THE POWER OF THE SOUL
After all, let a man take what pains he may to hush it down, a human soul is an awful ghostly, unquiet possession, for a bad man to have. Who knows the metes and bounds of it? Who knows all its awful perhapses, — those shudderings and tremblings, which it can no more live down than it can outlive its own eternity! What a fool is he who locks his door to keep out spirits, who has in his own bosom a spirit he dares not meet alone, — whose voice, smothered far down, and piled over with mountains of earthliness, is yet like the forewarning trumpet of doom! Uncle Tom’s Cabin, Harriet Beecher…
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