Then it is possible for me, even for me, to love God. How is it possible
for me _not_ to love him? And it is possible for me, even for me, to be
religious, if to be religious is to love God, and to do whatever we can
to make those around us happy.
But if this is indeed religion, it is happiness, it is freedom,--it is
life!
Why, then, are so many of the religious people I know of a sad
countenance, as if they were bond-servants toiling for a hard master?