It would just make a heaven of
warbling ignoramuses, don't you see? Eternal Rest sounds
comforting in the pulpit, too. Well, you try it once, and see how
heavy time will hang on your hands. Why, Stormfield, a man like
you, that had been active and stirring all his life, would go mad
in six months in a heaven where he hadn't anything to do. Heaven
is the very last place to come to REST in,--and don't you be afraid
to bet on that!"
Says I--
"Sam, I'm as glad to hear it as I thought I'd be sorry. I'm glad I
come, now."
Says he--
"Cap'n, ain't you pretty physically tired?"
Says I--
"Sam, it ain't any name for it! I'm dog-tired."
"Just so--just so. You've earned a good sleep, and you'll get it.
You've earned a good appetite, and you'll enjoy your dinner. It's
the same here as it is on earth--you've got to earn a thing, square
and honest, before you enjoy it. You can't enjoy first and earn
afterwards. But there's this difference, here: you can choose
your own occupation, and all the powers of heaven will be put forth
to help you make a success of it, if you do your level best. The
shoe-maker on earth that had the soul of a poet in him won't have
to make shoes here."
"Now that's all reasonable and right," says I. "Plenty of work,
and the kind you hanker after; no more pain, no more suffering--"
"Oh, hold on; there's plenty of pain here--but it don't kill.
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