es in
truth a sacrament blessed of God; children thank parents for the gift of
life; parents see in children living satisfactions and rewards, not
reproaches or retributions doubly heavy to be borne, for the knowledge
that where two sinned, many must inevitably suffer."

"You try to tell me gently, Faith, but I see that you consider me one of
the innocent unfortunates, who have no right to marry till they be
healed, perhaps never. I have dimly felt this during the past year, now
I know it, and thank God that I have no child to reproach me hereafter,
for bequeathing it the mental ills I have not yet outlived."

"Dear Sylvia, you are an exceptional case in all respects, because an
extreme one. The ancient theology of two contending spirits in one body,
is strangely exemplified in you, for each rules by turns, and each helps
or hinders as moods and circumstances lead. Even in the great event of a
woman's life, you were thwarted by conflicting powers; impulse and
ignorance, passion and pride, hope and despair. Now you stand at the
parting of the ways, looking wistfully along the pleasant one where Adam
seems to beckon, while I point down the rugged one where I have walked,
and though my heart aches as I do it, counsel you as I would a daughter
of my own."

"I thank you, I will follow you, but my life looks very barren if I must
relinquish my desire."

"Not as barren as if you possessed your desire, and found in it another
misery and mistake. Could you have loved Geoffrey, it might have been
safe and well with you; loving Adam, it is neither. Let me show you why.
He is an exception like yourself; perhaps that explains your attraction
for each other. In him the head rules, in Geoffrey the heart. The one
criticises, the other loves mankind. Geoffrey is proud and private in
all that lies nearest him, clings to persons, and is faithful as a
woman. Adam has only the pride of an intellect which tests all things,
and abides by its own insight. He clings to principles; persons are but
animated facts or ideas; he seizes, searches, uses them, and when they
have no more for him, drops them like the husk, whose kernel he has
secured; passing on to find and study other samples without regret, but
with unabated zeal. For life to him is perpetual progress, and he obeys
the law of his nature as steadily as sun or sea. Is not this so?"

"All true; what more, Faith?"

"Few women, if wise, would dare to marry this man, noble and love-wor