s. I might not like them,
and they might not like me. I would rather meet there the ones
who have loved me here--the ones who would have died for me, and
for whom I would have died; and if we are to be eternally divided
--not because we differed in our views of justice, not because we
differed about friendship or love or candor, or the nobility of
human action, but because we differed in belief about the atonement
or baptism or the inspiration of the Scriptures--and if some of us
are to be in heaven, and some in hell, then, for my part, I prefer
eternal sleep. To me the doctrine of annihilation is infinitely
more consoling, than the probable separation preached by the orthodox
clergy of our time. Of course, even if there be a God, I like
persons that I know, better than I can like him--we have more in
common--I know more about them; and how is it possible for me to
love the infinite and unknown better than the ones I know? Why
not have the courage to say that if there be a God, all I know
about him I know by knowing myself and my friends--by knowing
others? And, after all, is not a noble man, is not a pure woman,
the finest revelation we have of God--if there be one? Of what
use is it to be false to ourselves? What moral quality is there
in theological pretence? Why should a man say that he loves God
better than he does his wife or his children or his brother or his
sister or his warm, true friend? Several ministers have objected
to what I said about my friend Mr. Mills, on the ground that it
was not calculated to console the living. Mr. Mills was not a
Christian. He denied the inspiration of the Scriptures. He believed
that restitution was the best repentance, and that, after all, sin
is a mistake. He was not a believer in total depravity, or in the
atonement. He denied these things. He was an unbeliever. Now,
let me ask, what consolation could a Christian minister have given
to his family? He could have said to the widow and the orphans,
to the brother and sister: "Your husband, your father, your brother,
is now in hell; dry your tears; weep not for him, but try and save
yourselves. He has been damned as a warning to you, care no more
for him, why should you weep over the grave of a man whom God thinks
fit only to be eternally tormented? Why should you love the memory
of one whom God hates?" The minister could have said: "He had an
opportunity--he did not take it. The life-boat was lowered--he
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