promised a happier time when the bliss of Eden shall be renewed?"

"Yes, and the time will come. Not only prophets and apostles have
had it revealed to them, but grand souls among the heathen have dimly
descryed its dawning from afar. But what unimaginable scenes of horror
must first be? What doleful _misereres_ must first ascend to cloud
the brightness of the heavens and dim the joy of the blest! Long, long
before then, your and my remembrance, Faith, will have perished from
the earth. You will be then a seraph, and I--. If there be ever an
interval of pain, it will be when I think of your blessedness, and
you, if angels sometimes weep, will drop a tear to the memory of your
father, and it shall cool his torment."

What could the grieved and alarmed daughter say? She spoke in gentle
and loving tones. She combated by every possible argument these
miserable fancies. She entreated him for her sake as well as his own,
to cast them off. He listened to her without impatience, and as if
he loved to hear the sound of her voice. But he shook his head with
a mournful sadness, and his melancholy remained. As may well be
supposed, the dark cloud that had settled down upon his mind was not
thus to be dissipated. Faith, though troubled, did not despair. She
trusted the impression of the late calamity, to which she attributed
much of his unhappiness, would in time wear off. Meanwhile, she
commended him to the kind protection of that Gracious Being who is
loving to all his works.




CHAPTER XXVII.