"My friend warns me," continued the Pastor, addressing his younger nieces as well as their mother; "that the Marquis Santa Cruz is a Roman Catholic in the severest sense of the term.--That his mind, enlightened on every other subject, is here under an impenetrable cloud. Indeed, his errand hither is a sufficient proof of his mental darkness. He brings his son to this island, _to touch the dead man's bones, and be healed_; and he neglects the living presence of his Saviour, who has only to will it, and it is done!--Oh, my children, here is a lesson to humble the pride of intellect, and to fill you with awe before the Creator of your reason, and the revealer of his word!--Reason, when hearkening to revelation, must be as _a little child_; not as an idiot, that receives all, and does all, without understanding the nature of the command;--but as a little child, humble and intelligent, eager to apprehend the truth, and ready to obey it. Such a little child as that which appeared with the Doctors in the Temple, hearing and asking them questions, Mark you!--He did not then _speak as one having authority_, but he came to hear, and to inquire!--In all things, _He_ is our example; and that example bids us search the Scriptures for truth; and to apply to God alone, through one Mediator for salvation here and here-after." Mrs. Coningsby did not answer her uncle, but pressed the hands of her listening daughters; who cast down their eyes in reverence of their beloved teacher and his divine subject.--Mr. Athelstone paused a few minutes, and resumed. "The Grand-Pensionary, being aware how happy I should be to see the Marquis Santa Cruz, and to render every service in my power to his invalid son, gave him this letter, which has introduced to us two such interesting persons.--So now, my dear niece, you must do your part, in the shape of aired rooms and nourishing diet; and I will try to perform mine so, as to induce the father and son to become our guests for as many weeks, as they have purposed days:--They would be visitors after Louis's own heart." "I thought the young Spanish nobleman looked very ill," observed Alice in a tone of pity; "he leaned so languidly in his chair; and his large dark eyes moved so heavily, it seemed a labour for him to turn them even from me to my sister; though we sat close together.--Poor young man!--And how kindly he asked about Louis!--Did not you, Cornelia, think he looked ill?" "Indeed," said her sister, "I scarcely noticed his looks at all; which I am sorry for.--He must have thought us most unfeelingly inattentive, to allow an invalid to sit so long in a hot room with that heavy cloak on."