"Surely there occurs to every uncorrupted heart some stirrings of a diviner life; some consciousness, obscure and transient it may be, but deep and authoritative, of a nobler calling than we have yet obeyed; a rooted dissatisfaction with self, a suspicion of some poison in the will, a helpless veneration for something that is gazed at with a sigh as out of reach. It is the touch of God upon us, his hand laid upon our conscience, and felt by all who are not numb with the paralytic twist of sin. Even the indifferent mind of self-indulgence, drowsy with too much sense, complacent with too much self, scarcely escapes the sacred calling." Martineau.