Another whom I saw in Hades I should—­save for his pitiable effort to escape observation—­have passed unnoticed.  His pitfall in life had been love of approbation, which was so strong that he was never happy except in perpetually endeavoring to pass himself off for that which he knew he was not.  The only aim of his existence had been to win the approval of others, and, lo! one morning he awoke in Hades to find himself the despised of the despised, and the laughing stock of the very Devil.  I saw few more pitiable sights than that of this wretched creature, slinking shamefacedly through hell, and wincing, as from a blow, at the glance of every passer.

During my wanderings I had reason to ask one whom I had known on earth concerning the fate of an old acquaintance of his own.

“I will tell you all I know, of the man about whom you ask,” he said, “but first let me explain that my sorest hindrance on earth was unbelief.  Once, when I might have believed, I would not, and my punishment is that now, when I would believe, I cannot, but am for ever torn by hideous apprehension and doubt.  Moreover, there are many things which, clear and plain as they may be to the faithful of heart and to the believing, are to my doubting eyes wrapt around in mystery.  Into these mysteries it has been ordained as part of my punishment that I shall ever desire to look, and of all these mysteries there is none which fills me with such horror and dread as the mystery of the dead who die.”

“Of the dead who die!” I said.  “What do you mean by those strange words?  Surely all who die are dead.”

“They are my words,” he cried excitedly, and with a hysterical laugh.  “The words I use to myself when I think of the mystery which they strove so carefully to conceal from me, but which for all their cunning I have discovered.  When first I came here, I saw, either in hell or in heaven, the faces of most of the dead whom I had known on earth, but some faces there were—­the man of whom you ask was one—­which I missed, and from that time to this I have never seen.  ‘Where, then, are they?’ I asked myself, ’since neither earth, hell, nor heaven knows them more?  Has God some fearful fate in store for sinners, which may one day fall upon me as it has already fallen upon them?’ And so I set myself to discover what had become of these missing faces, and you shall hear the result.

“When you and I were children, we were taught that every human being is born with an immortal soul.  But they did not tell us that just as neglected diseases can kill the body, so unchecked sin can kill the soul.  But it is so, and that is what I meant when I said that he of whom you asked was ‘of the dead who die.’