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“There shall be no more sea!”

I agree with him fully, and yet I know people whose conception of heaven includes Byron’s apostrophe to the ocean. How can we all be satisfied?

Other curious sounds come to us as we sit in the silence. Some are interesting, a few are strange or delightful. I frequently seem to hear church bells gently chiming, just as they did years ago when the sound came over the hills of the little country town where I was a boy. The sound now seems to start far away, dim in the distance; gradually it comes nearer, until the tones seem to fall upon the ear with full power. They are always musical, never discordant; they go as suddenly and as unexpectedly as they come. And where do they come from? Can it be that dormant brain cells suddenly arouse to life and unload their charge of gentle memories? Or it may be—but you are not interested in what the deaf man comes to think of strange messengers who enter the silent world. You would not believe me were I to tell you all we think and feel about them.