When you come to die, as you look back upon the record of your life, no
matter how many men you have wrecked and ruined, and no matter how many
women you have deceived and deserted--all that may be forgiven you;
but if you recollect that you have laughed at God's book you will see
through the shadows of death, the leering looks of fiends and the forked
tongues of devils. Let me show you how it will be. For instance, it
is the day of judgment. When the man is called up by the recording
secretary, or whoever does the cross-examining, he says to his soul:
"Where are you from?" "I am from the world." "Yes, sir. What kind of a
man were you?" "Well, I don't like to talk about myself." "But you have
to. What kind of a man were you?" "Well, I was a good fellow; I loved
my wife; I loved my children. My home was my heaven; my fireside was my
paradise, and to sit there and see the lights and shadows falling on the
faces of those I love, that to me was a perpetual joy. I never gave one
of them a solitary moment of pain. I don't owe a dollar in the world,
and I left enough to pay my funeral expenses and keep the wolf of want
from the door of the house I loved. That is the kind of a man I am."
"Did you belong to any church?" "I did not. They were too narrow for me.
They were always expecting to be happy simply because somebody else was
to be damned." "Well, did you believe that rib story?" "What rib story?
Do you mean that Adam and Eve business? No, I did not. To tell you the
God's truth, that was a little more than I could swallow." "To hell
with him! Next. Where are you from?" "I'm from the world, too." "Do
you belong to any church?" "Yes, sir, and to the Young Men's Christian
Association." "What is your business?" "Cashier in a bank." "Did you
ever run off with any of the money?" "I don't like to tell, sir." "Well,
but you have to." "Yes, sir; I did."
"What kind of a bank did you have?" "A savings bank." "How much did you
run off with?" "One hundred thousand dollars." "Did you take anything
else along with you?" "Yes, sir." "What?" "I took my neighbor's wife."
"Did you have a wife and children of your own?" "Yes, sir." "And you
deserted them?" "Oh, yes; but such was my confidence in God that I
believed he would take care of them." "Have you heard of them since?"
"No, sir." "Did you believe that rib story?" "Ah, bless your soul, yes!
I believed all of it, sir; I often used to be sorry that there were
not harder stories yet in the Bible, so that I could show what my faith
could do." "You believed it, did you?" "Yes, with all my heart." "Give
him a harp."