countenance, came up to me, and in tones of remarkable sweetness, said,
'You seem moved.' 'I feel troubled,' said I. 'I don't know what to
think; and I don't know what to do.' He smiled, and said, 'None of these
things move me.' Then lifting up his eyes towards Heaven he said,--'The
Sun still shines; and I feel his blessed warmth as sensibly as ever. And
the millions of our race still live and rejoice in his beams.' 'Thank
God,' said I: 'Yes, I see, he still shines; and I will rest contented
with his light and warmth.' 'The spots are there,' said he, 'past doubt;
but experience, the strongest evidence of all, proves that they do not
interfere with the beneficent influences of the Great and Glorious Orb,
or lessen his claims to our respect and veneration, or diminish one jot
our obligations to his great Author. They have their use, no doubt. The
Sun might be too brilliant without them, and destroy our eyes, instead
of giving us light. Too much light might prove as bad as too little. All
is well. I accept plain facts. To deny them is to fight against God. To
admit them and trust in God is the true faith, and the germ of all true
virtue and piety.

''I have no faith in the kind of absolute perfection those professors
contend for, either in Sun or Moon, Bible or Church; but I believe in
the SUFFICIENCY, or _practical_ perfection of all, and am as
happy, and only wish I were as good and useful, as ----'

'Just as he spoke those words, I awoke. He seemed as if he had much to
say, and I would fain have heard him talk his sweet talk till now; but
perhaps I had heard enough, and ought now to set myself heartily to
work, to get through with the business of my life.'

So ends the Dream-story.