e to lead and draw to the
coincidence. We call it fate, sometimes; stopping short, either
blindly inapprehensive of the larger and surer blessedness, or too
shyly reverent of what we believe to say it easily out. Yet when we
read it in a written story, we call it the contrivance of the
writer,--the trick of the trade. Dearly beloved, the writer only
catches, in such poor fashion as he may, the trick of the Finger,
whose scripture is upon the stars.

Marion Kent is received into the Ingraham home. Hilary Vireo and
Luclarion Grapp preach the gospel to her.

"Christ died."

The minister uttered his evangel of mercy in those two eternal
words.

"Yes,--Christ," murmured the girl, who had never questioned about
such things before, and to whose lips the holy name had been
strange, unsuitable, impossible; but whose soul, smitten with its
sin and need, broke through the wretched outward hinderance now, and
had to cry up after the only Hope.

"But He could not forgive my letting _them_ die. I have been reading
the New Testament, Mr. Vireo, 'Whosoever shall offend one of these
little ones, it were better for him that a millstone"--

She could not finish the quotation.

"Yes,--'_offend_;' turn aside out of the right--away from Him;
mislead. Hurt their _souls_, Marion."

Marion gave a grasping look into his face. Her eyes seized the
comfort,--snatched it with a starving madness out of his.

"Do you think it means _that?_" she said.

"I do. I know the word 'offend' means simply to 'turn away.' We may
sin against each other's outward good, grievously; we may lay up
lives full of regrets to bear; we may hurt, we may kill; and then we
must repent according to our sin; but we _may_ repent, and they and
He will pity. It is the soul-killers--the corrupters--Christ so
terribly condemns."

"But listen to me, Marion," he began again. "God let his Christ
die--suffer--for the whole world. Christ lets them whom he counts
worthy, die--suffer--for _their_ world. The Lamb is forever slain;
the sacrifice of the holy is forever making. It is so that they come
to walk in white with Him; because they have washed their robes in
his blood--have partaken of his sacrifice. Do you not think they are
glad now, with his joy, to have given themselves for you; if it
brings you back? 'If I be lifted up, I will draw all men unto me.'
He who knew how to lay hold of the one great heart of humanity by a
divine act, knows how to give his own work to t