"You, then, were once what I am now—an unbeliever; and I was once what you are now—a believer. How the human character changes as time moves slowly on, to bring out the great teacher, death, who will finally settle everything."
"Yes, Sir, and for ever."
"What awful sublimity in that short sentence—yes, and for ever. The subject of our conversation interests me, as I have heard that prisoners committed for capital offences sometimes evince a peculiar intensity of emotion when listening to the mock process of a trial; the rehearsal of the coming tragedy pleases them. But to return to our subject, may I be permitted to ask you whether you now live habitually free from terror?"
"I do, Sir."
"Never calculate on being damned for ever?"
"Never."
"And you can sleep as calmly on your pillow, with the Bible by your side, as you could if you believed the dark world of hell had vanished into air—gone out of existence for ever?"
"Yes, Sir, I can."
"This, Sir, is to me inexplicably marvellous. I wonder how any one, who believes in the Divine authority of the Bible, can ever look at it without feeling terrified, as children feel when going into a dark room, after listening to a series of fearful ghost stories."