we descend the road of life, the journey, demanding so much of our
attention, becomes of more importance than the journey's end; but to
the child, standing at the valley's gate, the terminating hills are
clearly visible. What lies beyond them is his constant wonder. I
never questioned my parents directly on the subject, shrinking as so
strangely we all do, both young and old, from discussion of the very
matters of most moment to us; and they, on their part, not guessing my
need, contented themselves with the vague generalities with which we
seek to hide even from ourselves the poverty of our beliefs. But
there were foolish voices about me less reticent; while the
literature, illustrated and otherwise, provided in those days for
serious-minded youth, answered all questionings with blunt brutality.
If you did wrong you burnt in a fiery furnace for ever and ever. Were
your imagination weak you could turn to the accompanying illustration,
and see at a glance how you yourself would writhe and shrink and
scream, while cheerful devils, well organised, were busy stoking. I
had been burnt once, rather badly, in consequence of live coals, in
course of transit on a shovel, being let fall upon me. I imagined
these burning coals, not confined to a mere part of my body, but
pressing upon me everywhere, not snatched swiftly off by loving hands,
the pain assuaged by applications of soft soap and the blue bag, but
left there, eating into my flesh and veins. And this continued for
eternity. You suffered for an hour, a day, a thousand years, and were
no nearer to the end; ten thousand, a million years, and yet, as at
the very first, it was for ever, and for ever still it would always be
for ever! I suffered also from insomnia about this period.

"Then be good," replied the foolish voices round me; "never do wrong,
and so avoid this endless agony."