he had ventured to dispute an established point in surgery.  And yet, with the inconsistent folly of the age, he had absurdly set his seal to the falsity of the Bible, after giving it, at most, but a careless reading here and there, and without having ever once honestly made use of the means by which God has promised to enlighten the seekers after knowledge.  And yet, his eyes being blinded, he did not realize how absurd and unreasonable, how utterly foolish, was his conduct.  He thought himself sincere; he had no desire to lead Sadie astray from her early education, and, like most skeptical natures, he quite prided himself upon the care with which he guarded his peculiar views, although I could never see why that was being any other than miserably selfish or inconsistent; for it is saying, in effect, one of two things, either:  “My belief is sacred to myself alone, and nobody else shall have the benefit of it, if I can help it;” or else:  “I am very much ashamed of my position as a skeptic, and I shall keep it to myself as much as possible.”  Be that as it may, Dr. Douglass so thought, and was sincere in his intentions to do Sadie no harm; yet, as the days came and went, he was continually doing her injury.  They were much in each other’s society, and the subject which he meant should be avoided was constantly intruding.  Both were so constantly on the alert, to see and hear the unwise, and inconsistent, and unchristian acts and words, and also, alas! there were so many to be seen and heard, that these two made rapid strides in the broad road.

Finally, there was Dr. Van Anden, carrying about with him a sad and heavy heart.  He could but feel that he had shrunken from his duty, hidden behind that most miserable of all excuses:  “What will people think?” If Dr. Douglass had had any title but that particular one prefixed to his name, he would not have hesitated to have advised Mrs. Ried concerning him; but how could he endure the suspicion that he was jealous of Dr. Douglass?  Then, in trying to right the wrong, by warning Sadie, he was made to realize, as many a poor Christian has realized before him, that he was making the sacrifice too late, and in vain.  There was yet another thing—­Dr. Douglass’ statements to Sadie had been colored with truth.  Among his other honest mistakes was the belief that Dr. Van Anden was a hypocrite.  They had clashed in former years.  Dr. Douglass had been most in the wrong, though what man, unhelped by Christ, was ever known to believe this of himself?  But there had been wrong also on the other side, hasty words spoken—­words which rankled, and were rankling still, after the lapse of years.  Dr. Van Anden had never said:  “I should not have spoken thus; I am sorry.”  He had taught himself to believe that it would be an unnecessary humiliation for him to say this to a man who had so deeply wronged him!

But, to do our doctor justice, time had healed the wound with him; it was not personal enmity which prompted his warning, neither had he any idea of the injury which those sharp words of his were doing in the unsanctified heart.  And when he dropped upon his knees that night he prayed earnestly for the conversion of Sadie and Dr. Douglass.