looked with some degree of confidence toward a coming forth again from
death? Now I think it is far more reasonable to believe in another life,
than in the delusiveness of these expectations. For I cannot suppose
that this universal expectation will be disappointed, without believing
in the wickedness, nay, the infinite malignity, of the Supreme Ruler,
which my whole nature utterly refuses to do. For what more cruel, than
to create this earnest and universal longing, and not gratify it? Does
it not seem so?'

We all admitted it.

'This instinctive desire,' continued Longinus, 'I cannot but regard as
being implanted by the Being who created us. It can proceed from no other.
It is an instinct, that is, a suggestion or inspiration of God. If it
could be shown to be a consequence of education, we might refer it for its
origin to ingenious philosophers. But it exists where the light of
philosophy has never shone. There have been none, of whom history has
preserved even obscurest traditions, who have wanted this instinct. It is
then the very inspiration of the Divinity, and will not be disappointed. I
trust much to these tendencies of our nature. This is the best ground for
our belief of a God. The arguments of the schools have never succeeded in
establishing the truth, even to the conviction of a philosophic mind, much
less a common one. Yet the truth is universally admitted. God, I think,
has provided for so important an article of faith in the structure of our
minds. He has not left it to chance or special Revelation. So, too, the
determinations of the mind concerning virtue and vice, right and wrong,
being for the most part so accordant throughout the whole race--these also
I hold to be instinctive.'

'I can think of nothing,' said Fausta, 'to urge against your argument. It