escends
Down to the fiery coast,
Amongst abominable fiends'--

Yes, that does sound dreadful. Worst of it is, you get used to 'em, and
don't notice 'em much. Why, I've sung that hymn dozens of times in
church, and never thought of the meanin'. And there's Tom Davis: he
drinks most of the time, but he has sung once or twice in the choir
(though he ain't been ever converted yet, and he is really terrible
wicked; don't do nothin' but swear and drink). But I don't suppose he
noticed the words of this hymn,--though I know he sung it,--for he keeps
right on in his sin; and he couldn't, you know, Mrs. Ward, if that hymn
was true to him."

Helen left Alfaretta to reflect upon the hymn, and went back to the
study; but the door was shut, and she heard the scratching of her
husband's pen. She turned away, for she had lived in a minister's
household, and had been brought up to know that nothing must disturb
a man who was writing a sermon. But John had hurriedly opened the door.

"Did you want to speak to me, dearest?" he said, standing at the foot of
the stairs, his pen still between his fingers. "I heard your step."

"But I must not interrupt you," she answered, smiling at him over the
balusters.

"You never could interrupt me. Come into the study and tell me what it
is."

"Only to ask you about a hymn which Alfaretta says is to be sung on
Sunday," Helen said. "Of course there is some mistake about it, but
Alfaretta says the choir has been practicing it, and I know you would not
want it."

"Do you remember what it was, dear?"

"I can't quote it," Helen answered, "but it began something about
'damnation and the dead.'"

"Oh, yes, I know;" and then he added, slowly, "Why don't you like it,
Helen?"

She looked at him in astonishment. "Why, it's absurd; it's horrible."

John was silent for a few moments, and then he sighed: "We will not sing
it, dear."

"But, John," she cried, "how could such a hymn ever have been printed? Of
course I know people used to think such things, but I had no idea anybody
thought of hell in that literal way to-day, or that hell itself was a
real belief to very many people; however, I suppose, if such hymns are
printed, the doctrine is still taught?"

"Yes," John said, "it is as real to-day as God himself,--as it always has
been and must be; and it is believed by Christians as earnestly as ever.
We cannot help it, Helen."

Helen looked at him thoughtfully. "It is very terrible; b