What hells have we not invented for the afterlife! Indeed, what hells we
have often made of this, both for ourselves and others, and at really
such a very small cost of ingenuity, after all!

Perhaps the biggest and most benighted fools have been the best
hell-makers.

Whereas the best of our heavens is but a poor perfunctory conception,
for all that the highest and cleverest among us have done their very
utmost to decorate and embellish it, and make life there seem worth
living. So impossible it is to imagine or invent beyond the sphere of
our experience.

Now, these dreams of mine (common to many) of the false but ineffable
joys, are they not a proof that there exist in the human brain hidden
capacities, dormant potentialities of bliss, unsuspected hitherto, to
be developed some day, perhaps, and placed within the reach of all,
wakers and sleepers alike?

A sense of ineffable joy, attainable at will, and equal in intensity and
duration to (let us say) an attack of sciatica, would go far to equalize
the sorrowful, one-sided conditions under which we live.

* * * * *

But there is one thing which, as a school-boy, I never dreamed--namely,
that I, and one other holding a torch, should one day, by common
consent, find our happiness in exploring these mysterious caverns of the
brain; and should lay the foundations of order where only misrule had