r of any scientist
possessing a secret drawn from the soul of nature that was not called
'mad' at once by his compeers and the public? I can stand THAT
accusation! Pray Heaven I never get as mad as a Wall Street gambler!"

"You will, if you gamble with the lives of nations!" said Gwent.

"Let the nations beware how they gamble with their own lives!" retorted
Seaton--"You say war is a method of money-making--let them take heed
how they touch money coined in human blood! I--one man only,--but an
instrument of the Supreme Intelligence,--I say and swear there shall be
no more wars!"

As he uttered these words there was something almost supernatural in
the expression of his face--his attitude, proudly erect, offered a kind
of defiance to the world,--and involuntarily Gwent, looking at him,
thought of the verse in the Third Psalm--

"I laid me down and slept; I awaked for the Lord sustained me. I will
not be afraid of ten thousands of the people that have set themselves
against me round about."

"No--he would not be afraid!" Gwent mused--"He is a man for whom there
is no such thing as fear! But--if it knew--the world might be afraid of
HIM!"

Aloud he said--"Well, you may put an end to war, but you will never put
an end to men's hatred and envy of one another, and if they can't 'let
the steam off' in fighting, they'll find some other way which may be
worse. If you come to consider it, all nature is at war with
itself,--it's a perpetual struggle to live, and it's evident that the
struggle was intended and ordained as universal law. Life would be
pretty dull without effort--and effort means war."

"War against what?--against whom?" asked Seaton.

"Against whatever or whoever opposes the effort," replied Gwent,
promptly--"There must be opposition, otherwise effort would be
unnecessary. My good fellow, you've got an idea that you can alter the
fixed plan of things, but you can't. The cleverest of us are only like
goldfish in a glass bowl--they see the light through, but they cannot
get to it. The old ship of the world will sail on its appointed way to
its destined port,--and the happiest creatures are those who are
content to sail with it in the faith that God is at the helm!" He broke
off, smiling at his own sudden eloquence, then added--"By-the-by, where
is your laboratory?"

"Haven't got one!" replied Seaton, briefly.

"What! Haven't got one! Why, how do you make your stuff?"

Seaton laughed.

"You think I'm go