what constitutes the torment; hence men do not really believe it.
Especially when it is represented as of eternal duration, the idea is
entirely beyond men's imagination; and so the effect is far from
proportionate to the warning.

But we can imagine something of the suffering of discipline. That comes
within the scope of our imagination; yea, and of our experience, too.
And when it is represented as ceasing when the desired result is
secured, it commends itself to our highest ideas of benevolence, wisdom,
and justice; and but for the baleful influence of tradition, would
become at once credible.

If you want an example of the same principle on a smaller scale, take
the case of Nebuchadnezzar to whom we referred. Was his a light
punishment? Anything more dreadful it would be hard to conceive. But it
was discipline; and the discipline was removed when it had accomplished
its purpose. And don't you think it had a most salutary effect on the
man all his days? I imagine that the same principle applies to the next
life. What the discipline may be, we know not; yet we can conceive that
in certain cases it may be terrible suffering. But when the desired
reformation is effected, the suffering will be removed. And don't you
think that the very memory of that suffering will be a wholesome object
lesson to all eternity?

This is the suffering which I would have proclaimed to all men as a
warning. And it can be uttered with the accent of intelligent
conviction, which the warning of endless torment never can. Moreover, it
is so consonant with our best instincts of necessity, justice, mercy,
truth, love--that it carries men's convictions at once.