Let me put one case and I will be through with this branch of the
subject. A husband and wife love each other. The husband is a good
fellow and the wife a splendid woman. They live and love each other and
all at once he is taken sick, and they watch day after day and night
after night around his bedside until their property is wasted and
finally she has to go to work, and she works through eyes blinded with
tears, and the sentinel of love watches at the bedside of her prince,
and at the least breath or the least motion she is awake; and she
attends him night after night and day after day for years, and finally
he dies, and she has him in her arms and covers his wasted face with the
tears of agony and love. He is a believer and she is not. He dies, and
she buries him and puts flowers above his grave, and she goes there in
the twilight of evening and she takes her children, and tells her little
boys and girls through her tears how brave and how true and how tender
their father was, and finally she dies and goes to hell, because she was
not a believer; and he goes to the battlements of heaven and looks over
and sees the woman who loved him with all the wealth of her love, and
whose tears made his dead face holy and sacred, and he looks upon her
in the agonies of hell without having his happiness diminished in the
least. With all due respect to everybody I say, damn any such doctrine
as that.