"Yes, you shall see her again. 'And I saw the dead, great and small, stand
before God. And the books were opened, and the dead were judged from those
things which were written in the books. And whosoever was not found
written in the book of life was cast into the lake of fire, which is the
second death.' Yes; you shall see her again. She died so--with her knee
unbent, with her hand unraised, with a prayer unuttered, in the pride of
her intellect and the strength of her youth. She loved and she was loved;
but she said no prayer to God; she cried for no mercy; she repented of no
sin! Yes; you shall see her again."
In his bitterness Waldo laughed low:
Ah, he had long ceased to hearken to the hellish voice.
But yet another speaks.
"You shall see her again," said the nineteenth-century Christian, deep into
whose soul modern unbelief and thought have crept, though he knows it not.
He it is who uses his Bible as the pearl-fishers use their shells, sorting
out gems from refuse; he sets his pearls after his own fashion, and he sets
them well. "Do not fear," he says; "hell and judgment are not. God is
love. I know that beyond this blue sky above us is a love as wide-
spreading over all. The All-Father will show her to you again; not spirit
only--the little hands, the little feet you loved, you shall lie down and
kiss them if you will.
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