f the
world, there wasn't any dust. So, the elect must mean some other
folks--not us of this world, at all."

"Doubtless the inhabitants of Mars or Jupiter," observed Betty,
laughing in spite of herself at John's flippant remark.

"Betsy," presently said Henry very earnestly, "I've watched you and
Susan closely all during this revival, and I do believe that you both
are really under conviction. The belief in your own wickedness and in
the total depravity of the human heart is the first link in the
chain--as Brother Weaver says."

"But I do not believe in 'total depravity,'" maintained Betsy, stoutly.
"If the human race was utterly depraved to start with, how could one
keep growing worse and worse all the time?"

"Ah, Betty," said Henry, "I reasoned just as you do, once; but now I
understand these things better. Although I am of myself utterly vile
and worthless, the mercy of God has taken hold of me and clothed and
hidden me in the righteousness of his dear Son, and now I----"

"Henry," interrupted Betsy, with sudden sweetness, for the time sobered
by his earnest face and voice, "you mustn't feel hurt by anything I
have said. You know I jest over the most solemn subjects, and see the
ludicrous side of everything; but I can be impressed by real
earnestness, and I have never doubted that you are sincere in all you
say."

"Yes," said Susan, "I'd sooner doubt my own eyesight than your
sincerity, Henry. I can understand and believe in that at least; but in
other things I must be a bigger simpleton than even the 'wayfaring
man'; for the way of salvation is anything but plain, if it includes
the doctrines of our churches. I can't understand them at all."

"Understand them!" exclaimed Betsy. "Who can? Why, whenever one of our
learned ministers is on the subject of 'reprobation,' 'predestination,'
or 'effectual calling,' his reasoning is so subtle and his logic so
ingenious that it must puzzle the elect angels themselves to understand
his arguments."

"But you surely believe in the beautiful doctrine of grace?" Henry
asked earnestly. "You believe that the saints will persevere and get
home at last to glory, don't you?"

"We'll tell you more about that when we get there ourselves--if we ever
do," replied Susan.

"If the saints do persevere to glory," remarked John Calvin, "some of
'em are makin' a mighty poor start of it here below. Look at Sam
Ruddell, drunk half his time, and too lazy and mean to do any honest
wor