He looked at her a moment, then putting her away, gently, again addressed Holden: 

“Have you no word of comfort for me?”

“Faint not; neither be tired of well-doing,” answered Holden, “and I doubt not that the cloud which now concealeth the divine countenance will depart, and thou shalt attain the peace that passeth understanding.”

“Have you attained it?  Do you know what it is to be justified by faith?”

“I have that blessed experience,” cried the enthusiast.  “Those whom He called He justified.  I am a brand plucked from the burning—­a monument of abounding mercy.”

“Tell me, then,” exclaimed Armstrong, “what are the signs by which it may be known?” He said this eagerly, and with an air of the intensest interest.

“I feel it,” cried Holden, rising and standing before him, “in the hatred that I bear towards all that conflicts with His will; in the love with which I read His word; in the willingness to suffer all things for the glory of His name, and to be damned for ever, if such be His purpose; I feel it in that, through His grace, I can trample the world under foot, and bear whatever cross His decree imposes; in the struggle and the aspiration to be more like Him, and in that His sovereign grace hath chosen me to reveal unto me His salvation and the knowledge of His speedy coming.”

It is impossible to convey an adequate idea of the manner in which this was spoken.  Words cannot describe the voice, or paint the wild gleams of enthusiasm that, like lightning-flashes, coursed each other over the features of Holden, as, without a gesture, and immovable as a rock, an image of undoubting confidence, he delivered himself of this extraordinary speech.  Nor, carried away by its impassioned utterance, were either Armstrong or his daughter aware of its full fanaticism.  But the impression made upon the two was somewhat diverse, and marked how differently the chords of their minds were tuned.  With all her reverence for the Enthusiast, Faith could not hear his wild avowal without pain, notwithstanding it was stamped with all the honesty of conviction, and her own creed taught that such a degree of spiritual elevation might be attained; while her father listened with a sad admiration, not unmixed with self-abasement and almost envy.

After a pause, Armstrong said:  “If such are the evidences of justification and a saving faith, then have I had them, too; but why bring they to me no confidence or holy joy?  Why is my soul cast down, and why do I feel like one who stumbles towards a pit?  Alas! my flesh quivers and my heart trembles at the thought of falling into His hands.”

“It is prayer that opens heaven,” said Holden.  “If thou wilt, we will unite our hearts in supplication.  Peradventure the Lord may send a blessing.”