But now, just this last night, I must once more implore you to open your heart to God's Spirit.

Ah, my Helen, I have sinned against Heaven and before you, but my punishment will be greater than I can bear if I enter heaven without you! Heaven?
My God, it would be hell! The knowledge that my sin had kept you out--yet even as I speak I sin." He was walking up and down the room, his hands knotted in front of him, and his face filled with hopeless despair.
"Yes, I sin even in this, for my grief is not that I have sinned against God in my duty to his people and in forgetting Him, but that I may lose you heaven, I may make you suffer!" Helen came to him, and tried to put her arms about him.

"Oh, my dear," she said, "don't you understand?
I have heaven now, in your love.

And for the rest,--oh, John, be content to leave it in Hands not limited by our poor ideas of justice.

If there is a God, and He is good, He will not send me away from you in eternity; if He is wicked and cruel, as this theology makes Him, we do not want his heaven! We will go out into outer darkness together." John shuddered.