ak to hold the match that fires a cannon. When evil elements
are aggregated, the force required to release them is often very small.
We may purpose no wrong to our neighbor in the indulgence of a freedom
that leads him into fiery temptation; but if we know that our freedom
must of necessity do this, can we escape responsibility if we do not
deny ourselves?"

"It is easy to ask questions and to generalize," returned Mr. Birtwell,
not hiding the annoyance he felt.

"Shall I come down to particulars and deal in facts?" asked Mr. Elliott.

"If you care to do so."

"I have some facts--very sad and sorrowful ones. You may or may not
know them--at least not all. But you should know them, Mr. Birtwell."

There was no escape now.

"You half frighten me, Mr. Elliott. What are you driving at?"

"I need not refer," said the clergyman, "to the cases of Archie Voss
and Mr. Ridley."

Mr. Birtwell raised his hands in deprecation.

"Happily," continued Mr. Elliott, "Mr. Ridley has risen from his fall,
and now stands firmer, I trust, than ever, and farther away from the
reach of temptation, resting not in human but in divine strength.
Archie is in heaven, where before many days his mother will join him."

"Why are you saying this?" demanded Mr. Birtwell. "You are going too
far." His face had grown a little pale.

"I say it as leading to something more," replied the clergyman. "If
there had been no more bitter fruit than this, no more lives
sacrificed, it would have been sad enough. But--"

"Sir, you are trifling," exclaimed Mr. Birtwell, starting from his
chair. "I cannot admit your right to talk to me in this way."

"Be calm, my dear sir," answered Mr. Elliott, laying his hand upon his
companion. "I am not trifling with you. As your warm personal friend as
well as your spiritual counselor, I am here to-night to give a solemn
admonition, and I can best do this through the communication of
facts--facts that stand on record for ever unchangeable whether you
know them or not. Better that you should know them."

Mr. Birtwell sat down, passive now, his hand grasping the arms of his
chair like one bracing himself for a shock.

"You remember General Abercrombie?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what has become of him?"

"No. I heard something about his having been dismissed from the army."

"Did you hear the cause?"

"It was drunkenness, I believe."

"Yes, that was the cause. He was a fine officer and a man of high
character, b