THE AWAKENING.
And Dea!
It seemed to Gwynplaine, as he watched the break of day at Corleone Lodge, while the things we have related were occurring at the Tadcaster Inn, that the call came from without; but it came from within.
Who has not heard the deep clamours of the soul?
Moreover, the morning was dawning.
Aurora is a voice.
Of what use is the sun if not to reawaken that dark sleeper—the conscience?
Light and virtue are akin.
Whether the god be called Christ or Love, there is at times an hour when he is forgotten, even by the best. All of us, even the saints, require a voice to remind us; and the dawn speaks to us, like a sublime monitor. Conscience calls out before duty, as the cock crows before the dawn of day.
That chaos, the human heart, hears the fiat lux!