Caroline was soon at home in that tiny parlour. A kind hand took from her her shawl and bonnet, and installed her in the most comfortable seat near the fire. The young and the antiquated woman were presently deep in kindly conversation, and soon Caroline became aware of the power a most serene, unselfish, and benignant mind could exercise over those to whom it was developed. She talked never of herself, always of others. Their faults she passed over. Her theme was their wants, which she sought to supply; their sufferings, which she longed to alleviate. She was religious, a professor of religion--what some would call "a saint;" and she referred to religion often in sanctioned phrase--in phrase which those who possess a perception of the ridiculous, without owning the power of exactly testing and truly judging character, would certainly have esteemed a proper subject for satire, a matter for mimicry and laughter. They would have been hugely mistaken for their pains. Sincerity is never ludicrous; it is always respectable. Whether truth--be it religious or moral truth--speak eloquently and in well-chosen language or not, its voice should be heard with reverence. 
Caroline was soon at home in that tiny parlour, installed in the most comfortable seat near the fire. The young and the old woman were presently deep in kindly conversation, and Caroline became aware of the power of an unselfish and benign mind. Miss Ainley talked never of herself, always of others: and not of their faults, but their wants and sufferings, which she longed to alleviate. She was religious, and spoke of religion often in a way which some people would have enjoyed ridiculing. They would have been hugely mistaken. Sincerity is never ludicrous; it is always to be respected.
