Finally, she learned that she was the crowning intelligence in the
vast progression; that she would ultimately become part of Deity.
"The long ascending line, from dead matter to man, had been a
progress Godward, and the next advance would unite creation and
Creator in one person." With all her aspirations she had never
dreamed of such a future as was here promised her. To-night she was
closely following that most anomalous of all guides, "Herr
Teufelsdrockh." Urged on by the same "unrest," she was stumbling
along dim, devious paths, while from every side whispers came to
her: "Nature is one: she is your mother, and divine: she is God! The
'living garment of God.'" Through the "everlasting No," and the
"everlasting Yea," she groped her way, darkly, tremblingly, waiting
for the day-star of Truth to dawn; but, at last, when she fancied
she saw the first rays silvering the night, and looked up hopefully,
it proved one of many ignes-fatui which had flashed across her path,
and she saw that it was Goethe, uplifted as the prophet of the
genuine religion. The book fell from her nerveless fingers; she
closed her eyes, and groaned. It was all "confusion, worse
confounded." She could not for her life have told what she believed,
much less what she did not believe. The landmarks of earlier years
were swept away; the beacon light of Calvary had sunk below her
horizon. A howling chaos seemed about to ingulf her. At that moment
she would gladly have sought assistance from her guardian; but how
could she approach him after their last interview? The friendly face
and cordial kindness of Dr. Asbury flashed upon her memory, and she
resolved to confide her doubts and difficulties to him, hoping to
obtain from his clear and matured judgment some clew which might
enable her to emerge from the labyrinth that involved her. She knelt
and tried to pray. To what did she, on bended knees, send up
passionate supplications? To nature? to heroes? These were the new
deities. She could not pray; all grew dark; she pressed her hands to
her throbbing brain, striving to clear away the mists. "Sartor" had
effectually blindfolded her, and she threw herself down to sleep
with a shivering dread, as of a young child separated from its
mother, and wailing in some starless desert.