"Yes," answered Mary--"in proof of what it can prove. The joy of
a child over a new toy, or a colored sweetmeat, shows of what
bliss the human soul is made capable."
"Oh, capable, I dare say!"
"And more than that," Mary went on, adding instead of replying,
"no one ever felt such gladness without believing in it. There
must be somewhere the justification of such gladness. There must
be the father of it somewhere."
"Well! I don't like to say, after your kindness in coming here to
take care of me, that you talk the worst rubbish I ever heard;
but just tell me of what use is it all to me, in the state I am
in! What I want is to be free of pain, and have some pleasure in
life--not to be told about a father."
"But what if the father you don't want is determined you shall
not have what you do want? What if your desire is not worth
keeping you alive for? And what if he is ready to help your
smallest effort to be the thing he wants you to be--and in the
end to give you your heart's desire?"
"It sounds very fine, but it's all so thin, so up in the clouds!
It don't seem to have a leg to stand upon. Why, if that were
true, everybody would be good! There would be none but saints in
the world! What's in it, I'm sure I don't know."
"It will take ages to know what is in it; but, if you should die
now, you will be glad to find, on the other side, that you have
made a beginning.
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