"Why that is the very thing," said Mr. Stackpole,--"that is the mischief of education I was speaking of--men are brought up to it."
"You cannot dispose of it so, sir, for this feeling is quite as universal as the other; and so strong that men have not only been willing to render life miserable but even to endure death itself, with all the aggravation of torture, to smooth their way in that unknown region beyond."
"It is one of the maladies of human nature," said Mr. Stackpole,--"that it remains for the progress of enlightened reason to dispel."
"What is the cure for the malady?" said Mr. Carleton quietly.
"Why sir!--the looking upon death as a necessary step in the course of our existence which simply introduces us from a lower to a higher sphere,--from a comparatively narrow to a wider and nobler range of feeling and intellect."
"Ay--but how shall we be sure that it is so?"
"Why Mr. Carleton, sir," said Mrs. Evelyn,--"do you doubt that? Do you suppose it possible for a moment that a benevolent being would make creatures to be anything but happy?"
"You believe the Bible, Mrs. Evelyn?" he said smiling slightly.
"Certainly, sir; but Mr. Carleton, the Bible I am sure holds out the same views of the goodness and glory of the Creator; you cannot open it but you find them on every page. If I could take such views of things as some people have," said Mrs. Evelyn, getting up to punch the fire in her extremity,--"I don't know what I should do!--Mr. Carleton, I think I would rather never have been born, sir!"
"Every one runs to the Bible!" said Mr. Stackpole. "It is the general armoury, and all parties draw from it to fight each other."