of a Common Brotherhood.

This pleased her very much, and when I expatiated on the Omniscience,
Omnipotence, Omnipresence, and so on, of our God, and of the loving
kindness taught by his Son, she was much impressed.

The story of the Virgin birth naturally did not astonish her, but she
was greatly puzzled by the Sacrifice, and still more by the Devil, and
the theory of Damnation.

When in an inadvertent moment I said that certain sects had believed in
infant damnation--and explained it--she sat very still indeed.

"They believed that God was Love--and Wisdom--and Power?"

"Yes--all of that."

Her eyes grew large, her face ghastly pale.

"And yet that such a God could put little new babies to burn--for
eternity?" She fell into a sudden shuddering and left me, running
swiftly to the nearest temple.

Every smallest village had its temple, and in those gracious retreats
sat wise and noble women, quietly busy at some work of their own until
they were wanted, always ready to give comfort, light, or help, to any
applicant.

Ellador told me afterward how easily this grief of hers was assuaged,
and seemed ashamed of not having helped herself out of it.

"You see, we are not accustomed to horrible ideas," she said, coming
back to me rather apologetically. "We haven't any. And when we get a
thing like that into our minds it's like--oh, like red pepper in your
eyes. So I just ran to her, blinded and almost screaming, and she took
it out so quickly--so easily!"

"How?" I asked, very curious.

"'Why, you blessed child,' she said, 'you've got the wrong idea
altogether. You do not have to think that there ever was such a God--for
there wasn't. Or such a happening--for there wasn't. Nor even that this
hideous false idea was believed by anybody. But only this--that people
who are utterly ignorant will believe anything--which you certainly knew
before.'"

"Anyhow," pursued Ellador, "she turned pale for a minute when I first
said it."

This was a lesson to me. No wonder this whole nation of women was
peaceful and sweet in expression--they had no horrible ideas.

"Surely you had some when you began," I suggested.

"Oh, yes, no doubt. But as soon as our religion grew to any height at
all we left them out, of course."

From this, as from many other things, I grew to see what I finally put
in words.

"Have you no respect for the past? For what was thought and believed by
your foremothers?"

"Why, no," she said. "Why