Universal

belief in souls is no logical argument in favour of their existence, for we know that the ma es are usually wrong in their conceptions, their minds being swayed by hopes, fears, and ancient custom. Physical laws—such as that of gravitation—are known to be true, though most men never understand them. We have shown also (Rivers of Life, ii, p- 591) that some 56 per cent of the whole population of the world may be regarded as Agnostik concerning any future life. It is again argued that belief in immortality produces a good life, through expectation of future reward or punishment, and affords consolation under sorrow. This indeed is the foundation of the whole fabric; yet mankind tacitly acknowledge, in the actual presence of death, how little as a rule they are influenced by any expectation of immortality. We do our best to live, and we bewail the dead who have left us. We fear, in fact, the unknown future. Between the finite and the infinite there could be no real communion, for “ absorption in deity” can only mean individual annihilation, and also implies that we are, as individuals, not such as “live and move and have our being” in the Infinite Power. [Even when the Buddhist speaks of the “drop absorbed in the ocean,” he seems to have no clear conception: since the matter of which the drop consists is indestructible, though it may be redistributed, and is as much in the ocean now as in future.—Eb.] The ancient Egyptians variously believed in souls that might return to the mummy, or migrate into other forms, or dwell with (or in) Osiris. But none of those beliefs, any more than those of Eleatik, Epicurean, or Stoik philosophers, or of the Sadducees, or of Hebrew psalmists and philosophers, in any way countenance the idea of a disembodied immortal spirit. Those who choose to rely on the vast systems of ancient and modern theologies, or on their “ feelings,” and imaginations, will tind ample support in the fancies of every age. Emerson says: “there is a hint of immortality in that happy state of mind which loves life, and exclaims, ‘What is good let it endure, and in our insatiable desire to learn and know... we feel in a manner wronged if there is to be nothing more.” Goethe exclaims: “Nature is bound to give me another term.” But who is she—the awful destroyer of life organic and non-organic—that we should trust her? How is this new life to begin, and are we to conceive it, as Emerson asks, as “a féte champétre, or an evangelical pic-nic whose prizes will be delivered to virtuous peasants?” [Yet if Seneca is right we have no cause to fear: the woes of 50 or 70 years are hardly worth lamenting; and punishment is not vengeance, but only the rod that guides us for a few short years on earth—Ep.] Harriet Martin eau looked forward to annihilation, and longed to sleep; but her opinions were influenced by long years of sickne . The hard facts of the deathbed do not countenance the tales of joyful anticipation on the part of the dying; as a rule they are fond illusions of the mourner, and their minds are generally occupied by their immediate physical wants. When the strong sane judgment of mature healthy life is ebbing away, we must not think that any weak death-bed words of repentance, or of recantation, can efface the good or the evil done in the past, or the consequences that follow therefrom. According as we have lived we have left our mark, for good or for evil. The law is stern but right. There is no recall: no Elisha whose bones can bring back the dead to life (2 Kings xiii, 21): no Jesus to bid us “come forth” like Lazarus: none to roll away the stone from our tomb: all these things are legends, like those of Greek heroes, or like Plato’s Er son of Armenius, belonging to ages of credulity and ignorance. Equally must we question the mystic who dreams of being “ absorbed into deity ”"— the “great unknown from whom we came”: for that, were it true, means not new life, but—to the individual—eternal death, with the lo of every fond or sad memory of the past. 298