He mentioned a name that was notorious in Europe at the time of my life on earth, though he was then long dead; a ruthless and ambitious conqueror, who poured a cataract of life away, in wars, for his own aggrandisement.  Then he mentioned another name, a statesman who pursued a policy of terrorism and oppression, enriched himself by barbarous cruelty exercised in colonial possessions, and was famous for the calculated libertinism of his private life.

“They were great sinners,” said Amroth, “and the sorrows they made and flung so carelessly about them, beat back upon them now in a surge of pain.  These men were strangely affected, each of them, by the smallest sight or sound of suffering—­a tortured animal, a crying child; and yet they were utterly ruthless of the pain that they did not see.  It was a lack, no doubt, of the imagination of which I spoke, and which makes all the difference.  And now they have to contemplate the pain which they could not imagine; and they have to learn submission and humility.  It is a terrible business in a way—­the loneliness of it!  There used to be an old saying that the strongest man was the man that was most alone.  But it was just because these men practised loneliness on earth that they have to suffer so.  They used others as counters in a game, they had neither friend nor beloved, except for their own pleasure.  They depended upon no one, needed no one, desired no one.  But there are many others here who did the same on a small scale—­selfish fathers and mothers who made homes miserable; boys who were bullies at school and tyrants in the world, in offices, and places of authority.  This is the place of discipline for all base selfishness and vile authority, for all who have oppressed and victimised mankind.”

“But,” I said, “here is my difficulty.  I understand the case of the oppressors well enough; but about the oppressed, what is the justice of that?  Is there not a fortuitous element there, an interruption of the Divine plan?  Take the case of the thousands of lives wasted by some brutal conqueror.  Are souls sent into the world for that, to be driven in gangs, made to fight, let us say, for some abominable cause, and then recklessly dismissed from life?”

“Ah,” said Amroth, “you make too much of the dignity of life!  You do not know how small a thing a single life is, not as regards the life of mankind, but in the life of one individual.  Of course if a man had but one single life on earth, it would be an intolerable injustice; and that is the factor which sets all straight, the factor which most of us, in our time of bodily self-importance, overlook.  These oppressors have no power over other lives except what God allows, and bewildered humanity concedes.  Not only is the great plan whole in the mind of God, but every single minutest life is considered as well.  In the very case you spoke of, the little conscript, torn from his home to fight a tyrant’s battles, hectored and ill-treated,