Perhaps quite a littleone, one that we have forgotten, but which has been recorded- small asa pea, but the pea can send out a blooming shoot. The poor bumpkin whosat on a low stool in the corner, and was jeered at and flouted,will perhaps have his worn-out stool given him as a provision; and thestool may become a litter in the land of eternity, and rise up then asa throne, gleaming like gold and blooming as an arbor. He who alwayslounged about, and drank the spiced draught of pleasure, that he mightforget the wild things he had done here, will have his barrel given tohim on the journey, and will have to drink from it as they go on;and the drink is bright and clear, so that the thoughts remain pure,and all good and noble feelings are awakened, and he sees and feelswhat in life he could not or would not see; and then he has within himthe punishment, the gnawing worm, which will not die through timeincalculable. If on the glasses there stood written 'oblivion,' on thebarrel 'remembrance' is inscribed.
  "When I read a good book, an historical work, I always think atlast of the poetry of what I am reading, and of the omnibus ofdeath, and wonder, which of the hero's deeds Death took out of thesavings bank for him, and what provisions he got on the journey intoeternity. There was once a French king- I have forgotten his name, forthe names of good people are sometimes forgotten, even by me, but itwill come back some day;- there was a king who, during a famine,became the benefactor of his people; and the people raised up to hismemory a monument of snow, with the inscription, 'Quicker than thismelts didst thou bring help!' I fancy that Death, looking back uponthe monument, gave him a single snow-flake as provision, asnow-flake that never melts, and this flake floated over his royalhead, like a white butterfly, into the land of eternity. Thus, too,there was Louis XI. I have remembered his name, for one remembers whatis bad- a trait of him often comes into my thoughts, and I wish onecould say the story is not true. He had his lord high constableexecuted, and he could execute him, right or wrong; but he had theinnocent children of the constable, one seven and the other eightyears old, placed under the scaffold so that the warm blood of theirfather spurted over them, and then he had them sent to the Bastille,and shut up in iron cages, where not even a coverlet was given them toprotect them from the cold. And King Louis sent the executioner tothem every week, and had a tooth pulled out of the head of each,that they might not be too comfortable; and the elder of the boyssaid, 'My mother would die of grief if she knew that my youngerbrother had to suffer so cruelly; therefore pull out two of myteeth, and spare him.' The tears came into the hangman's eyes, but theking's will was stronger than the tears; and every week two littleteeth were brought to him on a silver plate; he had demanded them, andhe had them. I fancy that Death took these two teeth out of thesavings bank of life, and gave them to Louis XI, to carry with himon the great journey into the land of immortality; they fly before himlike two flames of fire; they shine and burn, and they bite him, theinnocent children's teeth.
  "Yes, that's a serious journey, the omnibus ride on the greatmoving-day! And when is it to be undertaken? That's just the seriouspart of it. Any day, any hour, any minute, the omnibus may draw up.Which of our deeds will Death take out of the savings bank, and giveto us as provision?