“For my part,” said Only Truth, “I cannot conceive how a man when he hath choice of masters should choose so scurvy an one! Here is a King whom you may serve who, if in this world He seemeth at times neglectful of his servants and niggardly in comforts and rewards, yet, when you have come to the next world which is his true city and court, you have his sign manual for it that you will have honours and titles and riches without end! Moreover, your body will be happy and comforted, and you will not again be sorrowful or tried, nor ever have to work, but only stand and praise.—Not so with that other man, who will not kneel here nor wear this Master’s livery! Comes King Satan and claps him, ‘You are mine!’ Then mayhap he is led to a dance of unlawful and honey-sweet pleasures, or is given a heap of gold, or is dressed in a purple mantle and given a sceptre to hold, or is made drunk with worthless knowledge! But it is all a show and turneth to gall and wormwood. For incontinent he dieth. Nay, oftenest there is not in his hire the honey-sweet nor the gold and purple! For the other King’s servant even here triumpheth, and Satan’s man dieth a lazar and poor, even if he be not hanged, torn asunder, broken on the wheel, or burned. Then goeth the wicked wretch to his Master’s capital and court, even as the good man goeth to his. But the one servant lifteth his feet in haste from burning marl and findeth no cool floor to set them on. He swalloweth smoke and flames and findeth no water in all hell. His flesh blackeneth to a crisp, but is never burned senseless. A million years pass, and not one second but he hath felt first pain and terror. Eternity, eternity! and never will his anguish lessen. He looketh about him and seeth those for whom he had affection—for like liketh like—burning with him, and about their feet, creeping and wailing, the unbaptized babes. He looketh up, and he seeth across the gulf the other King’s court, and the Happy Servant. And the Happy Servant looketh down and seeth him, and his own bliss waxeth great. Wherefore—” Wrath Diverted took the word. “Nay! You err, Brother Only Truth, in using the word ‘choice.’ There is no choice, none!—that is, none on our part. Attribute no merit to us who attain Salvation! Attain it, do I say? Nay, we attain it not, we are _lifted_ into it. Another pays my debt!” “Nay, I meant it in that wise,” said Only Truth. “A babe in the faith knoweth that all are rightly lost and damned. Lost, lost! all are lost. Five thousand and more years ago it happened! One day, nay, one hour, one minute—and all was done and over! Then all souls sank to hell, and all put on Satan’s livery. In hell are folk who have burned and howled five thousand years! Lost, lost, all are lost! But the King, because of the Prince’s intercession, holds out his sceptre to those among us whom he chooses out. But we have no goodness or merit of our own! Miserable sinners are we all, and the due of perdition!”