Her dreams had disquieted her more than she had yet confessed: had
she been taking a way of her own, and choosing a guide instead of
receiving instruction in the way of understanding? Were these things
sent for her warning, to show her into what an abyss of death her
conduct was leading her?--But the moment she found herself in the
open air of Donal's company, her doubts and fears vanished for the
time. Such a one as he must surely know better than those others the
way of the Spirit! Was he not more childlike, more straightforward,
more simple, and, she could not but think, more obedient than those?
Mr. Carmichael was older, and might be more experienced; but did his
light shine clearer than Donal's? He might be a priest in the
temple; but was there not a Samuel in the temple as well as an Eli?
It the young, strong, ruddy shepherd, the defender of his flock, who
was sent by God to kill the giant! He was too little to wear Saul's
armour; but he could kill a man too big to wear it! Thus meditated
Arctura as she climbed the stair, and her hope and courage grew.
A delicate conscience, sensitive feelings, and keen faculties,
subjected to the rough rasping of coarse, self-satisfied,
unspiritual natures, had almost lost their equilibrium. As to
natural condition no one was sounder than she; yet even now when she
had more than begun to see its falsehood, a headache would suffice
to bring her afresh under the influence of the hideous system she
had been taught, and wake in her all kinds of deranging doubts and
consciousnesses.
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