er? How could we make any progress without it?"

"I grant it all."

"Then, what would Lucifer do? He would save you from the dangers of the
world, whether you would or not. He would take away any need of volition
or choice on our part. Do what we would, sink as deep into sin as we
could, he would save us notwithstanding, without a trial, without a
purging process, with all our sins upon us; and in this condition we are
expected to go on to perfection, and become kings and priests unto God
our Father, exercising power and dominion over our fellow creatures.
Think of it! Evil would reign triumphant. Celestial order would be
changed to chaos."

The other said not a word. He could not answer his brother's array of
arguments.

"Dear brother," continued Homan, "never before have I received such
sorrow as when I saw you follow that rebellious Son of Morning.
Henceforth quit his company. I fear for him and his followers."

"But he has such power over me, Homan. His eloquence seems to hold me,
and his arguments certainly convince me. But I must go--and brother,
come with me to the assembly which we are to hold. Many will be there
from far and near. Will you come?"

"I cannot promise you, Sardus. Perhaps I may call and see what is said
and done."

Then they parted.

Homan went to the gathering of which Sardus had spoken, and as had been
intimated, he met many strange faces. Everywhere in the conversation,
serious topics seemed to be uppermost. The singing was not as usual. The
music, though always sweet, was sadder than ever before, and a discord
seemed to have crept into the even flow of life's sweet strain. Homan
had no desire to talk. He wandered from group to group with a smile for
all. Sardus was in a heated discussion with some kindred spirits; but
Homan did not join them. Under the beautiful spread of the trees and by
the fountains, sat and walked companies of sons and daughters of God.
Ah, they were fair to look upon, and Homan wondered at the creations of
the Father. No two were alike, yet all bore an impress of the Creator,
and each had an individual beauty of his own.

Strolling into an arbor of vines, Homan, did not observe the fair
daughter seated there until he turned to leave; and then he saw her. She
seemed absorbed in thought, and her eyes rested on the shiftings
throngs.

"A sweet face, and a strange one," thought he, as he went up to her and
spoke:

"Sister, what are you thinking about?"

She t