ions, although human perception is not as
much aware of them at one time as at another. The words of the Assessor
made at this moment an indescribable impression on Petrea. She wept from
the sweet emotion excited by the description of a condition which was so
perfect, and of endeavours which were so holy. It appeared to her as if
she knew her own vocation, her own path through life; one which would
release her soul from all trifles, all vanities, all disquiets, and
which would speed her on to light and peace. Whilst these thoughts, or
rather sentiments, swelled in her breast, she looked through her tears
on her companion, as he sate there with his expressive countenance and
his large beautiful eyes fixed on the scene before him, and she saw in
him, not Jeremias Munter, but a wise hermit, with a soul full of sublime
and holy knowledge. She longed to throw herself at his feet, and beseech
his blessing; to propose to him that he should remain in this solitude,
in this hut, with her; that he should teach her wisdom; and she would
wait upon him as a daughter, or as a servant, would rise with him and
pray at sunrise, and do in all things like the Essenes. Thus would they
die to the world, and live only for heaven.

Overpowered by her excited feelings, surrendered to the transports of
the moment, and nearly choked with tears, Petrea sank on the breast of
Jeremias, stammering forth her undefined wishes.

If a millstone had fallen round his neck, our good Assessor could not
have been more confounded than he was at that moment. Deeply sunk in his
own thoughts, he had quite forgotten that Petrea was there, till
reminded of her presence in this unexpected manner. But he was a man,
nevertheless, who could easily understand the excitement of mind in a
young girl, and with a pure fervour of eye, whilst a good-humoured
satire played about his mouth, he endeavoured to tranquillise her
over-wrought feelings. Beautiful, then, was the discourse he held with
her on all that which calms and sanctifies life; on all that on which
man may found his abode whether in the desert or in the human crowd. He
spoke words then which Petrea never forgot, and which often, in a future
day, broke the chaotic state of her soul like beams of pure light.

In the mean time the tempest had dispersed itself, and the Assessor
began to think of a return; for Petrea thought nothing about it, but
would willingly have seen herself compelled to pass the night in the