hat all through, though one may not be able to reason or
argue about it."

"And the best evidence of all truth, my dear," answered the delighted
Dominie, "is that intuition which is before all reasoning, and by which
we must try reasoning itself. The moral is before the intellectual; and
that is why we preachers continually insist on faith as an illuminator
of the reason."

"You mean that we should cultivate faith," I said.

"Yes: not the faith that is blind, but the faith that sees, that is
positive; that which leads, not that which follows; the faith that
weighs argument and decides on it; in short, the native intuitions which
are a necessary part of the mind."

"I see, and I shall remember," said Lulu. "I shall never forget all you
say, Mr. Prince."

It was this sweet frankness, and the clearness with which her lately
developed intellect acted, that made us begin to respect Lulu as well as
to love her. She seemed to be getting right-minded at last.

When Mr. Lewis came, the conversation turned on other subjects; but it
was quite late at night before we were willing to part with our friends.
The shadow of misgiving which hangs over even short separations was
deeper than usual with me from the thought of the voyage. Lulu had been
so many times across the sea that she had no fear of it; and she went
up-stairs with me to say last words and give last commissions with her
usual cheerfulness. Notwithstanding the relief which I had felt during
the evening from her expressions of a moral and religious kind, I yet
had a brooding fear of the effect of association with a mind so lively
and so full of error as Remington's. What help or what sustaining power
for her there might be in her husband I could not tell; but be it more
or less, I feared she would not avail herself of it. Indeed, I feared
that she was daily becoming more alienated from him, as she pursued
onward and upward the bright mental track on which she had entered. And
it was seeing that she had not yet begun to con the alphabet of true
knowledge, that disturbed me most. If I could have seen her thoughtful
for others, humble in her endeavor after duty, I should have hailed,
rejoicingly, her intellectual illumination. As it was, I could not help
saying to her, anxiously, before we went downstairs,--

"I don't like Mr. Remington's notions at all, my dear!--I don't mean
merely his theological notions, but his ideas of life and duty seem to
me wrong and poor. Yo