'In that, Princess,' I could not help saying, 'I am a woman too. I have
long since lost all that regard for the gods in which I was so carefully
nourished. I despise the popular superstitions. Yet is there nothing
which I have found as yet to supply their place. I have searched the
writings of Plato, of Cicero, of Seneca, in vain. I find there, indeed,
wisdom, and learning, and sagacity, almost more than human. But I find
nothing which can be dignified by the name of religion. Their systems of
morals are admirable, and sufficient perhaps to enable one to live a
happy or fortunate life. But concerning the soul of man, and its destiny,
they are dumb, or their words, if they utter any, are but the dark
speeches of an oracle.'

'I am happy that I am not alone,' said Julia; 'and I cannot but think that
many, very many, are with me. I am sure that what most persons, perhaps,
who think and feel upon those subjects, want, is some divine promise or
revelation. Common minds, Longinus, cannot appreciate the subtlety of
your reasonings, much less those of the Phaedo. And, besides, the cares
and labors of life do not allow time to engage in such inquiries, even if
we supposed all men to have capacity for them. Is it not necessary that
truths relating to the soul and futurity should rest upon authority, if
any or many beside philosophers are to embrace them? And surely, if the
poor and ignorant are immortal, it is as needful for them, as for us, to
know it. It is, I conceive, on this account, that the religion of the
Christians has spread so rapidly. It meets our nature. It supplies
authority. It professes to bring annunciations from Heaven of man's
immortality.'

'It is for that reason,' replied Longinus, 'I cannot esteem it. The very
term revelation offends. The right application of reason effects all, it
seems to me, that what is called revelation can. It perfectly satisfies