But shall kind Providence provide two sets
of wings for nose talkers and chest talkers? Why not make the
two into one good talker and save one pair of wings?
Why not, in fact, keep just one perfect sample, and let all the
rest placidly drift back to nothingness? Or, better, why not
take all the goodness that there is in all the men and women that
ever were and melt it all down into one cosmic human being? ----
The rain drops, the mist and the sprays of Niagara all go back to
the ocean in time. Possibly we all go back at the end to the sea
of divine wisdom, whence we were sent forth to do, well or badly,
our little work down here:
Future punishment? We think not.
One drop of water revives the wounded hero--another helps to give
wet feet and consumption to a little child. It all depends on
circumstances.
Both drops go back to the ocean. There is no rule that sends the
good drop to heaven and the other to boil forever and ever in a
sulphur pit. ----
Troubles beset us when we think of a future state and our reason
quarrels always with our longings. We all want--in heaven--to
meet Voltaire with his very thin legs. But we cannot believe
that those skinny shanks are to be immortal. We shall miss the
snuff and the grease on Sam Johnson's collar.
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