"That's just what they are doing," said Jim; "And they are having a glorious high old time doing it too. Mrs. Cerulean herself intends to write for the paper on the subject of fortyfication and twentification and unification, and everything else that ends with _ation_. And it is thought it will improve the paper to have some nice little hymns inserted in it, to the tune of 'I Want to be an Angel.' I asked Mrs. Cerulean what if my friend Dacia should rip an oath in the midst of one of her _salons_--you know the little wretch does swear like a pirate; and you ought to see how serenely she looked over my head into the far distant future, and answered me so tenderly, as if I had been a two hours' chicken peeping to her. 'Oh, James,' says she, 'there are many opinions yet to be expressed on the subject of what is commonly called profanity. I have arrived at the conclusion myself, that in impassioned natures, what is called profanity, is only the state of prophetic exaltation which naturally seeks vent in intensified language. I shouldn't think the worse of this fine vigorous creature if, in a moment's inspired frenzy, she should burst the tame boundaries of ordinary language. It is true, the vulgar might call it profane. It requires anointed eyes to see such things truly. When we have risen to these heights where we now stand, we behold all things purified. There is around us a new heaven and a new earth.' And so you see, Dacia Dangyereyes turns out a tip-top angel of the new dispensation." "Well," said Ida, rising, with heightened color, "this, of course, ends my intercourse with Mrs. Cerulean, if it be true." "But," said Eva, "how can they bear the scandal of this disgraceful trial? This certainly will open their eyes." "Oh," said Jim, "you will see, Mrs. Cerulean will adhere all the closer for this. It's persecution, and virtue in all ages has been persecuted; therefore, all who are persecuted, are virtuous. Don't you see the logical consistency? And then, don't the Bible say, 'Blessed are ye when men persecute you, and say all manner of evil against you?'" "It don't appear to me," said Ida, "that she can so far go against all common sense." "_Common_ sense!" said Jim; "Mrs. Cerulean and her clique have long since risen above anything like common sense; all their sense is of the most uncommon kind, and relates to a region somewhere up in the clouds, where everything is made to match. They live in an imaginary world, and reason with imaginary reasons, and see people through imaginary spectacles, and have glorious good times all the while. All I wish is, that I could get up there and live; for you see I get into the state of prophetic ecstasy pretty often with this confounded hard grind below here, and then, when I rip out a naughty word, nobody sees the beauty of it. Mother looks glum. Sister Nell says, 'Oh, Jim!' and looks despairing."