Finally, she learned that she was the crowning intelligence in the

vast progression; that she would ultimately become part of Deity.

"The long ascending line, from dead matter to man, had been a

progress Godward, and the next advance would unite creation and

Creator in one person." With all her aspirations she had never

dreamed of such a future as was here promised her. To-night she was

closely following that most anomalous of all guides, "Herr

Teufelsdrockh." Urged on by the same "unrest," she was stumbling

along dim, devious paths, while from every side whispers came to

her: "Nature is one: she is your mother, and divine: she is God! The

'living garment of God.'" Through the "everlasting No," and the

"everlasting Yea," she groped her way, darkly, tremblingly, waiting

for the day-star of Truth to dawn; but, at last, when she fancied

she saw the first rays silvering the night, and looked up hopefully,

it proved one of many ignes-fatui which had flashed across her path,

and she saw that it was Goethe, uplifted as the prophet of the

genuine religion. The book fell from her nerveless fingers; she

closed her eyes, and groaned. It was all "confusion, worse

confounded." She could not for her life have told what she believed,

much less what she did not believe. The landmarks of earlier years

were swept away; the beacon light of Calvary had sunk below her

horizon. A howling chaos seemed about to ingulf her. At that moment

she would gladly have sought assistance from her guardian; but how

could she approach him after their last interview? The friendly face

and cordial kindness of Dr. Asbury flashed upon her memory, and she

resolved to confide her doubts and difficulties to him, hoping to

obtain from his clear and matured judgment some clew which might

enable her to emerge from the labyrinth that involved her. She knelt

and tried to pray. To what did she, on bended knees, send up

passionate supplications? To nature? to heroes? These were the new

deities. She could not pray; all grew dark; she pressed her hands to

her throbbing brain, striving to clear away the mists. "Sartor" had

effectually blindfolded her, and she threw herself down to sleep

with a shivering dread, as of a young child separated from its

mother, and wailing in some starless desert.




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