to His children as He pleases, and as they are prepared to receive it;
consequently, it swallows up and circumscribes all'."

"Take these, Dorian; have them with you as inspirational mottoes for
your life's work. Go on, there are a few more."

Dorian read again: "'The region of true religion and the region of a
completer science are one.'--Oliver Lodge."

"You see one of the foremost scientists of the day agrees with Brigham
Young," said Uncle Zed. "I think the next one corroborates some of our
doctrine also."

Dorian read: "'We do not indeed remember our past, we are not aware of
our future, but in common with everything else we must have had a past
and must be going to have a future.'--Oliver Lodge."

Again he read: "'We must dare to extend the thought of growth and
progress and development even up to the height of all that we can
realize of the Supreme Being--In some part of the universe perhaps
already the ideal conception has been attained; and the region of such
attainment--the full blaze of self-conscious Deity--is too bright for
mortal eyes, is utterly beyond our highest thoughts.'--Oliver Lodge."

Uncle Zed held out his hand and smiled. "There," he said in a whisper,
"is a hesitating suggestion of the truth which we boldly proclaim."

"Now you are tired, Uncle Zed," said Dorian. "I had best not read more."

"Just one--the next one."

Dorian complied:

"'There are more lives yet, there are more worlds waiting,
For the way climbs up to the eldest sun,
Where the white ones go to their mystic mating,
And the holy will is done.
I'll find you there where our love life heightens--
Where the door of the wonder again unbars,
Where the old love lures and the old fire whitens,
In the stars behind the stars'."

Uncle Zed lay peacefully on his pillow, a wistful look on his face. The
room became still again, and the clock ticked away the time. Dorian
folded up the papers which he had been told to keep and put them in his
pocket. The rest of the package he returned to the drawer. He lowered
the lamp again. Then he sat down and watched. It seemed it would not be
long for the end.

"Dorian."

"Yes, Uncle Zed, can I do anything for you?"

"No"--barely above a whisper--"nothing else matters--you're a good
boy--God bless you."

The dying man lay very still. As Dorian looked at the face of his friend
it seemed that the mortal flesh had become waxen white so that the
immortal spirit sh