"Souls, brother. I plucks brands from the burning with j'y and gather sheaves with gratitood. You've 'eard o' body-snatchers, I suppose?"
"I have."
"Well, I'm a soul-snatcher. I snatches 'em to the Lord whensoever and wheresoever I can, brother."
"But surely," I demurred, "the soul, which is an abstraction, a part of the Infinite and thus of God Himself, is therefore imperishable. Socrates taught this, Pantheism is based on this, the arguments of the Peripatetic Philosophers all trend to this belief, and Christ preached the Soul's immortality and life after death. Thus, if the Soul is immortal and cannot perish, how may it be saved?"
"By the Blood o' the Lamb, brother; otherwise ye shall be cast into outer darkness to weep and gnash."
"But why?"
"For sins, committed in the flesh and unrepented."
"Supposing a man sins daily for threescore years and ten and dies unrepentant, must he go down to hell and be tormented for ever and ever for so short a time of sinning?"
"He must, brother, alas!"
"Horrible!" I cried. "Horrible, and most unjust."