_Reader_. The next question you treat, doctor, regards the immortality of
the human soul, or, as you call it, “personal continuance.” In your
opinion the spirit and the body, the soul and the brain, are so intimately
and inseparably connected that a soul without a body, as “force without
matter,” can never exist. I remember having already answered some of the
grounds of this opinion; but as you make “personal continuance” the
subject of a special chapter, I presume that it is in this chapter that
you have condensed the strength and substance of all your arguments. How
do you, then, establish your position?
_Büchner_. “A spirit without a body is as unimaginable as electricity or
magnetism without metallic or other substances” (p. 196).
_Reader_. Unimaginable! Of course, a spiritual substance is not the object
of imagination. Perhaps you mean that it is unthinkable, inconceivable, or
unintelligible; which I deny.
_Büchner_. “Unprejudiced philosophy is compelled to reject the idea of an
individual immortality and of a personal continuance after death. With the
decay and dissolution of its material substratum, through which alone it
has acquired a conscious existence and become a person, and upon which it
was dependent, the spirit must cease to exist” (_ibid_.)
_Reader_. Beware of fallacies, doctor. You have not yet proved that the
human soul needs a material substratum. Again, you merely assume that it
is _through the body_ that the soul has acquired a conscious existence,
whilst the fact is that the soul _through itself_ is conscious of its own
existence in the body. Moreover, the soul does not become a person through
the body it informs, but, on the contrary, confers on the body the
privilege of being a part of the person. Lastly, the spirit is not
dependent upon the body, except for the sensitive operations; and you
cannot assume that the soul depends upon the body for its own being. Hence
your conclusion is yet unproved.
_Büchner._ “All the knowledge which this spirit has acquired relates to
earthly things; it has become conscious of itself in, with, and by these
things; it has become a person by its being opposed against earthly,
limited individualities. How can we imagine it to be possible that, torn
away from these necessary conditions, this being should continue to exist
with self‐consciousness and as the same person? It is not reflection, but
obstinacy, not science, but faith, which supports the idea of a personal
continuance” (pp. 196, 197).
_Reader._ I am rather amused than embarrassed at your identifying
reflection with science and obstinacy with faith, as I know that you are
absolutely incapable of accounting for such a nonsensical ranting. It is
not true that “all the knowledge acquired by our soul relates to earthly
things.” We have already discussed this point, and shown that our
knowledge of earthly things is only the alphabet of human knowledge. Nor
is it true that our soul “has become conscious of itself by such things.”
Consciousness is, even objectively, an immanent act, and the soul cannot
be conscious of its own self, except by looking upon itself. No one can
say _I perceive_ without a knowledge of the _I_; and therefore the soul
knows its own self independently of the perception of other earthly
things. But, as there are philosophers who account for self‐consciousness
by the primitive accidental sensations experienced by the child, I will
suppose with you that our soul becomes conscious of its own existence by
means of such sensations. Does it follow from this that the union with the
body is “a necessary condition” for the existence of the soul? Such a
conclusion would be absurd. For it latently assumes that the soul must
lose its consciousness of self by losing the instrument of its first
sensation. Now, to assume this is at least as absurd as to assume that by
losing any of your senses you lose all the knowledge already acquired
through them, or that by going out of Germany you cease to know everything
that is German.
But your greatest mistake regards the notion of personality. The spirit,
you say, “has become a person by its being opposed against earthly,
limited individualities.” What does this mean? First of all, the spirit
_does not become_ a person, but is itself the source of human personality.
Secondly, to be a person, there is no need of other earthly, limited
individualities, against which the spirit should be opposed. Any
intelligent being, left to itself, with the free disposal of its own self,
is a person. _Persona_, says Boethius, _est rationalis naturæ individua
substantia_; and this celebrated definition, adopted by all the
metaphysicians of the old school, is far from becoming obsolete. It would
seem, then, that you speak of personality without knowing in what it
consists. To prove that the soul cannot enjoy personal continuance in a
state of separation, you should prove that the soul separated from the
body _is not an intelligent being having a free use of its faculties_.
Whatever else you may prove, if you do not prove this, will amount to
nothing.
_Büchner._ “Physiology,” says Vogt, “decides definitely and categorically
against individual immortality, as against any special existence of the
soul” (p. 197).
_Reader._ Tell the physiologists to keep to their own business. The
question of the immortality of the soul is not one of those which can be
solved from the knowledge of our organs and their functions. All the
physiologist can do is to show the existence in the organs of a principle
which animates them, and which at death ceases to show its presence. What
becomes of it the physiologist, as such, has no means of deciding. Hence
your Vogt is supremely rash in affirming that “physiology decides
definitely and categorically against individual immortality.”
_Büchner._ “Experience and daily observation teach us that the spirit
perishes with its material substratum” (_ibid._).
_Reader._ Indeed? Let us hear how experience and daily observation teach
what you assert. It is extremely curious that mankind should be ignorant
of a fact which falls under daily observation.
_Büchner._ “There never has been, and never will be, a real apparition
which could make us believe or assume that the soul of a deceased
individual continues to exist; it is dead, never to return” (p. 198).
_Reader._ Allow me to remark, doctor, that you change the question. You
had to show that experience and daily observation teach that the spirit
perishes with the body. To say that there are no apparitions is not to
adduce experience and daily observation, but to argue from non‐experience
and non‐observation. Not to see a thing is not an argument against its
existence, especially if that thing be not the object of sight; and
therefore to infer the non‐existence of souls from their non‐apparition is
a logical blunder. But, secondly, is it true that “there never has been,
and never will be, a real apparition”?
_Büchner._ “That the soul of a deceased person,” says Burmeister, “does
not reappear after death, is not contested by rational people. Spirits and
ghosts are only seen by diseased or superstitious individuals” (_ibid._).
_Reader._ I do not say that souls, as a rule, reappear, or that we must
believe all the tales of old women about apparitions. Yet it is a fact
that Samuel’s ghost appeared to Saul and spoke to him; and it is a fact
that the witch of Endor, whom Saul had consulted, was already famous for
her power of conjuring up spirits, as it appears from the Bible, where we
are informed that there were many other persons in the kingdom of Israel
possessing a similar power, whom Saul himself had ordered to be slain. If
you happen to meet with Martinus Del Rio’s _Magic Disquisitions_, you will
learn that in all centuries there have been apparitions from the spiritual
world. Devils have often appeared, saints have appeared, and, to make the
reality of the apparitions incontrovertible, have left visible signs of
their presence, or done things which no mortal man has power to do. I need
not descend to particulars; yet I may remind you of the great recent
apparition of Lourdes, and of the numberless miracles by which it was
accompanied and followed, in the eyes of all classes of persons, including
infidels and Freemasons, who left no means untried to discredit the facts,
but they only succeeded in enhancing the value of the evidence on which
such facts had been previously admitted. Come, now, and tell us that all
the witnesses of such public facts are “diseased or superstitious
individuals”!
It is therefore proved, by experience and observation, that there are
apparitions, and that the human soul remains in existence after its
separation from the body. But, although this proof suffices to convince
all reasonable persons, philosophers furnish us with other excellent
proofs of the immortality of the soul. Are you able to show that all such
proofs are inconclusive?
_Büchner._ “There is something suspicious in the great zeal and the waste
arguments with which this question has at all times been defended, which
yet, for obvious reasons, has rarely experienced serious scientific
attacks. This zeal appears to show that the advocates of this theory are
rather anxious about their own conscience, since plain reason and daily
experience are but little in favor of an assumption which can only be
supported on theoretical grounds. It may also appear singular that at all
times those individuals were the most zealous for a personal continuance
after death whose souls were scarcely worthy of such a careful
preservation” (p. 198).
_Reader._ This is vile language, doctor. Our zeal in defending the
immortality of the soul arises from the moral importance of the point at
issue; and there is nothing “suspicious” about it. Our “waste of
arguments” is not yet certified; whereas your waste of words is already
fully demonstrated. The immortality of the soul “has _rarely_ experienced
serious scientific attacks,” or rather, it has _never_ experienced them,
because real science does not attack truth, and therefore all attacks
against the soul’s immortality have been, are, and will always be
unscientific in the highest degree. “Plain reason,” without the least need
of “daily experience,” convinces every thoughtful man that a truth based
on good “theoretical grounds” cannot be rejected as a gratuitous
“assumption,” especially when it is also supported by undeniable facts.
Your closing utterance deserves no answer. Every sensible man will qualify
it as downright insolence. Meanwhile, where are your proofs?
_Büchner._ “Attempts were made to deduce from the immortality of matter
the immortality of the soul” (_ibid._).
_Reader._ This is simply ridiculous. Who ever admitted the immortality of
matter?
_Büchner._ “There being, it was said, no absolute annihilation, it is
neither possible nor imaginable that the human soul, once existing, should
be annihilated; which would be opposed to reason” (p. 199).
_Reader._ Natural reason does not show the impossibility of annihilation;
and therefore it was impossible for philosophers to argue as you affirm
that they did. But, since you think that annihilation is quite impossible,
how can you evade the argument?
_Büchner._ “There is no analogy between the indestructibility of matter
and that of spirit. Whilst the visible and tangible matter sensually
exhibits its indestructibility, the same cannot be asserted of spirit or
soul, which is not matter, but merely an ideal product of a particular
combination of force‐endowed materials” (_ibid._).
_Reader._ You merely rehash the old blunder already refuted in one of our
past conversations. If the soul were nothing but a product of material
combinations, it would certainly perish when those combinations are
destroyed, and there would be no need of annihilation to make it vanish.
But if the soul is an active principle, as you must admit, it cannot be a
result of material combinations, and consequently it is a special
substance, and cannot perish except by annihilation, just in the same
manner as matter also cannot perish but by annihilation. Your ground for
denying the analogy between the destructibility of matter and that of the
spirit is therefore a false supposition. It is plain that there is not
only analogy, but absolute parity, and that, if matter were really
indestructible, the indestructibility of the soul would thereby be
sufficiently established. But we do not avail ourselves of such argument;
for we know that matter is destructible. You say that “the visible and
tangible matter sensually exhibits its indestructibility”; but a little
reflection would have sufficed to convince you that the possible and the
impossible are not objects of sensible perception, but of intellectual
intuition. Then you say that the soul is an “_ideal_ product of a
particular combination of force‐endowed materials”; which is the veriest
nonsense. For, were it true that a particular combination of materials
produces the soul, such a product would be _real_, not _ideal_. Thus you
have succeeded in condensing no less than three blunders into a few lines.
But let this pass. Have you anything to add in connection with this
pretended argument?
_Büchner._ “Experience teaches that the personal soul was, in spite of its
pretended indestructibility, annihilated; _i.e._, it was non‐existing
during an eternity. Were the spirit indestructible, like matter, it must
not only, like it, last for ever, but have ever existed. But where was the
soul before the body to which it belongs was formed? It was not; it gave
not the least sign of an existence; and to assume an existence is an
arbitrary hypothesis” (pp. 199, 200).
_Reader._ You grow eloquent, doctor, but without cause. We all admit that
the soul did not exist before the body was formed. And, pray, how could
the soul be annihilated if it did not exist? Are you doomed to utter
nothing but blunders?
_Büchner._ “It is in the very nature of things that all that arises should
necessarily perish” (p. 200).
_Reader._ By no means.
_Büchner._ “In the eternal cycle of matter and force nothing is
destructible; but this only applies to the whole, while its parts undergo
a constant change of birth and decay;” (_ibid._).
_Reader._ Try to be reasonable, dear doctor, and lay aside “the eternal
cycle,” which has no existence but in your imagination. You promised to
argue from experience and observation. Keep your promise.
_Büchner._ “I will. There is a state which might enable us to produce a
direct and empirical argument in favor of the annihilation of the
individual soul—the state of sleep. In consequence of corporeal changes,
the function of the organ of thought is suspended, and the soul, in a
certain sense, annihilated. The spiritual function is gone, and the body
exists or vegetates without consciousness in a state similar to that of
the animals in which Flourens had removed the hemispheres. On awakening,
the soul is exactly in the state it was before sleep. The interval of time
had no existence for the soul, which was spiritually dead. This peculiar
condition is so striking that sleep and death have been termed brothers”
(p. 200).
_Reader._ This “direct and empirical argument” may be turned against you.
For sleep is not real death; and the animal, when asleep, continues to be
animated. If, therefore, the soul remains in the body, even when the
organs are in a condition which excludes the possibility of their
concurrence to the work of the soul, does it not follow that the soul
enjoys an existence independent of the organs? It is true that, while the
organs are in such a condition, the soul cannot utilize them for any
special work; but it does not follow that “the soul is, in a certain
sense, annihilated,” nor that “the spiritual function is gone.” You
yourself admit that, “on awakening, the soul is exactly in the state it
was before sleep.” I do not care to examine whether the state of the soul
is _exactly_ the same; I rather incline to say that it is much better;
but, waiving this, it is still necessary to concede that the soul cannot
keep its state without preserving its existence, attributes, and
faculties, and a direct consciousness of its own being, which can be
recollected after sleep, when it has been accompanied, as in dreams, by a
certain degree of reflection.
_Büchner._ I expected, sir, that you would appeal to dreams; for “the
phenomena of dreaming have been used as arguments against the supposed
annihilation of the soul during sleep, by their proving that the soul is
also active in that state. This objection is founded upon error, it being
well known that dreaming does not constitute the state properly called
sleep, but that it is merely a transition between sleeping and waking” (p.
201).
_Reader._ I have not appealed to dreams. I simply mentioned the fact that
in certain dreams, where a certain degree of reflection accompanies the
acts of the soul, we have the possibility of remembering that we were
conscious of our own being. Take away all dreams; you will not thereby
lessen the certainty of our direct consciousness of our own being; you
will only suppress an experimental subsidiary proof, of which we are in no
special need. Moreover, remark, doctor, that “against the _supposed_
annihilation of the soul during sleep” we are by no means bound to bring
arguments. It is necessary only to say _Nego assumptum_, and it will be
your duty to prove your supposition. I observe, in the third place, that
you cannot consistently maintain that dreaming is a state intermediate
between sleeping and waking. For, as you affirm that the soul exists in
the latter state, and does not exist in the former, you are constrained to
affirm that in the middle state the soul cannot be said to exist, and
cannot be said not to exist, but partakes of existence and non‐existence
at the same time. Now, though you are so thoroughly accustomed to
blundering, I am confident that you cannot but shrink from the idea of a
non‐existent existence. And thus your definition of dreaming destroys your
supposed annihilation of the soul during sleep.
_Büchner._ “Certain morbid conditions are still more calculated to prove
the annihilation of our spirit. There are affections of the brain, _e.g._,
concussions, lesions, etc., which so much influence its functions that
consciousness is suspended. Such perfectly unconscious states may continue
for months together. On recovery, it is found that the patients have no
recollection whatever of the period which has passed, but connect their
mental life with the period when consciousness ceased. This whole time was
for them a deep sleep, sleep or a mental death; they in a sense died, and
were born again. Should death take place during that period, it is
perfectly immaterial to the individual, who, considered as a spiritual
being, was already dead at the moment when consciousness left him. Those
who believe in a personal immortality might find it somewhat difficult, or
rather impossible, to explain these processes, or to give some clue as to
the whereabouts of the soul during these periods” (p. 202).
_Reader._ It is neither impossible nor difficult to ascertain where the
soul is during such periods; for it is in the body all the while. Only the
actual conditions of its existence in the body preclude, by their
abnormity, the exercise of some faculties. The soul is, in such cases,
like the organist, who is unable to elicit the wonted sounds from the
organ so long as the pipes are not properly supplied with wind. The
patients you allude to are not corpses; and although you affirm that “they
_in a sense_ died and were born again,” it is evident that they did not
die at all, but only lost the proximate power of performing certain
operations. The soul and the body, so long as they are together, must work
together. Even the purely intellectual operations, in which the body has
no part, are always naturally associated with the imaginative operations,
in which the body has a considerable part; and when these latter, through
the abnormal condition of the brain, are suspended, the former also are
suspended, so far at least as there is question of reflex acts. And this
fully accounts for the phenomena accompanying certain morbid states,
without resorting to your pretended annihilation of the spirit.
Accordingly, if you wish to argue against personal continuance, you must
draw your objections from some other source.
_Büchner._ “The annihilation of a personal soul has been protested against
upon moral grounds. It was, in the first place, asserted that the idea of
an eternal annihilation is so revolting to the innermost feeling of man
that it must be untrue. Although an appeal to feelings is not a scientific
method of proceeding, it must certainly be admitted that the thought of an
_eternal life_ is more terrifying than the idea of eternal annihilation.
The latter is by no means repugnant to a philosophical thinker.
Annihilation, non‐existence, is perfect rest, painlessness, freedom from
all tormenting impressions, and therefore not to be feared” (pp. 204,
205).
_Reader._ This way of reasoning, doctor, is most extraordinary. First, you
assume that the moral grounds on which our knowledge of the immortality of
the soul is based consist of mere feelings. This is false. Secondly, you
do not consider that there are rational tendencies which, whether you call
them feelings or not, ought to be taken into account in a philosophic
discussion, as they are of such a character that their fulfilment cannot
be a matter of doubt. Thirdly, you exhibit _eternal life_ as a synonym of
_perpetual torments_; for you suppose that the idea of eternal life is
terrific, and that, to be free “from all tormenting impressions,”
annihilation is necessary. Thus you conceive that after this life there
can be nothing but the torments of hell. This is most certainly true with
regard to unrepenting Freemasons; they have nothing else to expect, not
even annihilation; and it would truly be better for them if they were
annihilated or _had never been born_, as we know from the Gospel. But why
should you take for granted that there is no heaven? It is plain that your
argument in favor of annihilation is nothing but a miserable sophism.
Lastly, I wish to remark, though it is of little importance to the
question of immortality, that annihilation, or non‐existence, is _not_
perfect rest, as you imagine. For who is it that rests? Can you have the
subject after its annihilation, or the rest without the subject? You see,
I hope, that your logic here, too, is at fault.
_Büchner._ “Philosophers, perceiving the loose ground upon which they
stand in regard to this question, have, in their endeavors to reconcile
philosophy and faith, tried to help themselves by very singular
expedients” (p. 205).
_Reader._ Loose ground and singular expedients indeed! Who will believe
you?
_Büchner._ “The desire of our nature,” says Carrière, “to solve so many
problems requires immortality, and the many sorrows of this earth would be
such a shocking dissonance in the world if it were not to find its
solution in a higher harmony, namely, in the purification and development
of personal individuality. This and other considerations render
immortality, from our point of view, a subjective certainty—a conviction
of the heart” (p. 206).
_Reader._ Do you consider these words as a very singular expedient to
reconcile philosophy and faith? What can you object to the thought they
express?
_Büchner._ “Every one may, certainly, have _convictions of the heart_, but
to mix them up with philosophical questions is unscientific. Either
something accords with reason and experience—it is then true; or it does
not accord—then it is untrue, and can find no place in philosophical
systems” (_ibid._).
_Reader._ I see your trick, doctor. There are two kinds of convictions of
the heart. Some of these convictions are accidental, transitory, not
universal, and not invincible; others universal, permanent, and
unchangeable. The first kind originates in accidental affections of
particular persons in particular circumstances; and this kind of
convictions should not be mixed up with philosophical questions. But the
second kind owes nothing to accidental circumstances, and shows in its
universality and invincibility its universal and unconquerable cause,
which cannot be other than our rational nature; and this kind of
convictions must be taken into account in the philosophical questions
concerning our rational soul; for it is from the nature of the effects
that we discover the nature of the causes. Now, “the conviction” which
Carrière mentions belongs to this second kind; for it is common to all
rational beings, and cannot be shaken off even by those who, like you, try
to convince themselves of a future annihilation. We therefore can and must
take into account such a conviction when we examine philosophically the
nature of the soul.
Accordingly, it is absurd, on your part, to pretend that an appeal to such
a conviction is “unscientific.” Nothing is more unscientific than to lay
aside the effects while one wishes to investigate the causes.
As to your aphorism, “either something accords with reason and
experience—it is then true; or it does not accord—then it is untrue,” I do
not think that it can help you much. A thoughtless reader may indeed be
dazzled by its fine glittering, and candidly believe that you are a most
resolute champion and acute investigator of truth; but he who reflects on
your reckless disregard of logic, tergiversation, and intellectual
perversity will only wonder at your audacity in appealing to a principle
which you trample upon in every page of your production. Yes, sir; what
accords with reason and experience is true; but how can this be a plea for
denying immortality?
_Büchner._ “It may be that it would be very fine if in heaven, as in the
last act of a heart‐stirring drama, everything would resolve in a touching
harmony or in general joy; but science has nothing to do with what _may
be_, but with what _is_, and is accordingly compelled to infer from
experience the finiteness of human existence. Indeed, a perfect solution
of the enigmas of the universe, as Carrière desires, must be considered as
impossible for the human mind. The moment we arrive at this point we are
creators and capable of shaping matter according to pleasure. Such a
knowledge would be equivalent to dissolution—annihilation—and there exists
no being which can possess it. Where there is no striving there can be no
life; perfect truth would be a sentence of death for him who has acquired
it, and he must perish in apathy and inactivity” (p. 206).
_Reader._ It is of no use, doctor, to heap up assertions of this kind.
They are all groundless. When you say that science has nothing to do with
what may be, but with what is, you latently assume that between what may
be and what is there must be opposition; whereas it is plain that nothing
is but what could be. And again, when you mention _science_, what do you
mean? Physics, chemistry, astronomy, geology, and the like have certainly
nothing to do with the immortality of the soul; but philosophy has
something to do with it, and philosophy, the highest of sciences, decides
that the human soul not only _may be_, but _must be_, immortal. In the
third place, it is ludicrous to affirm that “experience shows the
finiteness of human existence”; for our experience is limited to human
life upon earth, whereas our discussion refers to after‐life. In the
fourth place, you pretend that a full knowledge of truth is impossible to
the human mind, for the wonderful reason that we would then be “creators
and capable of shaping matter according to pleasure.” In this you commit
two blunders; for, first, the knowledge of natural truths does not
necessarily entail a physical power of shaping matter according to
pleasure; and, secondly, were our souls to acquire such a power, we would
not yet be creators, as creation is infinitely above the shaping of
matter. You are never at a loss to find false reasons when needed to give
plausibility to false assertions. Thus you invent the prodigious nonsense
that a perfect knowledge of natural things “would be equivalent to
annihilation,” and to support this strange notion you argue that “where
there is no striving there can be no life,” as if a human soul, when in
full possession of truth, could not find in its contemplation a sufficient
exercise of intellectual life. Yet it is clear that striving for a good
must end in a peaceful enjoyment of the same good; or else all our
striving would be purposeless. On the other hand, if “perfect truth were a
sentence of death for him who has acquired it,” would it not follow that
the more we know, the less we live? But to conclude. How can you
conciliate these two things: “The moment we possess full knowledge we are
creators,” and “the moment we possess full knowledge we are annihilated”?
or these two things: “We become capable of shaping matter according to
pleasure,” and “we perish in apathy and inactivity”? Answer, old fox?
_Büchner._ “It may be that we are surrounded by many riddles” (p. 206).
“In doubtful questions we must apply human knowledge, and examine whether
we can arrive at any solution by experience, reason, and the aid of
natural sciences. . . . Some believe they can give scientific reasons for
the doctrine of individual immortality. Thus Mr. Drossbach discovered that
every body contains a limited number of _monads_ capable of self‐
consciousness . . .” (p. 208).
_Reader._ There is no need of discussing such absurdities. We know, that
monads are not self‐conscious.
_Büchner._ In fact, “Drossbach’s monads are too intangible to concern
ourselves about them. We may, however, take this opportunity of alluding
to the unconquerable difficulties which must arise from the eternal
congregation of innumerable swarms of souls which belonged to men who, in
their sojourn upon earth, have acquired so extremely different a degree of
development” (_ibid._).
_Reader._ What unconquerable difficulties do you apprehend?
_Büchner._ “Eternal life is said to be a perfectioning, a further
development, of earthly life, from which it would follow that every soul
should have arrived at a certain degree of culture, which is to be
perfected. Let us think, now, of the souls of those who died in earliest
childhood, of savage nations, of the lower classes of our populations! Is
this defective development or education to be remedied beyond? ‘I am weary
of sitting on school‐benches,’ says Danton. And what is to be done with
the souls of animals?” (pp. 208, 209).
_Reader._ Indeed, doctor, the ignorance of the unbeliever is astounding!
Our children and the lower classes of our populations are not half as
ignorant as you are. They would tell you that the light of the beatific
vision dispels with equal facility all degrees of darkness which may
remain in our souls in consequence of imperfect education, without any
need of your “school‐benches” or other imaginary devices. They would tell
you also “what is to be done with the souls of animals,” on which you most
stupidly confer “the same rights” as are possessed by the human soul. If
beasts have the same rights as men, it is a crime to kill them; or, if
this is no crime, it must be as lawful to kill and devour men! Are you
ready to accept this doctrine?
_Büchner._ “There is no essential and natural distinction between man and
animal, and the human and animal soul are fundamentally the same” (p.
209).
_Reader._ Do you understand what you say? What do you mean by
“fundamentally”?
_Büchner._ I mean that the animal soul is only distinguished from the
human soul “in quantity, not in quality” (_ibid._).
_Reader._ Then you yourself must have the qualities of an ass, and there
will be no difference between you and the ass, except in this: that the
asinine qualities are greater in you than in the ass. Your efforts to
prove that beasts are endowed with intellect, reason, and freedom are very
amusing, but lack a foundation. It would be idle to examine minutely your
chapter on the souls of brutes; it will suffice to state that your
reasoning in that chapter is based on a perpetual confusion of the
sensitive with the intellectual faculties. Sense and intellect do not
differ in quantity, but in quality. No sensation can be so intensified as
to become an intellectual concept or a universal notion. Hence no
intellect can arise from any amount of sensibility. Brutes feel; but,
although their sensitive operations bear a certain analogy to the higher
operations of the intellectual soul, nothing gives you the right to assume
that brutes can reason. So long as you do not show that asses understand
the rules and the principles of logic, it is useless to speak of the
intellect of beasts. Their cognitions and affections are altogether
sensitive; reasoning, morality, and freedom transcend their nature as much
as your living person transcends your inanimate portrait in the
frontispiece of your book.
But reverting to the immortality of the human soul, I wish you to
understand that in the course of your argumentation you have never touched
the substantial points of the question. You not only have not refuted, but
not even mentioned, our philosophical proofs of immortality. You have been
prating, not reasoning. To crown your evil work a couple of historical
blunders were needed, and you did not hesitate to commit them. The first
consists in asserting that “the chief religious sects of the Jews knew
nothing of personal continuance,” while it is well known that the chief
religious sect of the Jews was that of the Pharisees, who held not only
the immortality of the soul, but also the resurrection of the body. The
second consists in asserting that “among the enlightened of all nations
and times the dogma of the immortality of the soul has had ever but few
partisans” (p. 213), while the very reverse is the truth.
_Büchner._ “Mirabeau said on his death‐bed, ‘I shall now enter into
nothingness,’ and the celebrated Danton, being interrogated before the
revolutionary tribunal as to his residence, said, ‘My residence will soon
be in nothingness!’ Frederick the Great, one of the greatest geniuses
Germany has produced, candidly confessed his disbelief in the immortality
of the soul” (p. 213).
_Reader._ You might as well cite Moleschott, Feuerbach, yourself, and a
score or two of modern thinkers, all _enlightened_ by Masonic light,
_celebrated_ by Masonic pens and tongues, and _great geniuses_ of
revolution. But neither you nor your friends are “among the enlightened of
all nations and times.” Before you can aspire to this glory you must study
your logic, and, I dare say, the Christian doctrine too.
_Büchner._ If the soul survives the body, “we cannot explain the fear of
death, despite all the consolations religion affords” (p. 214).
_Reader._ You cannot; but we can.
_Büchner._ Men would not fear death, “if death were not considered as
putting an end to all the pleasures of the world” (_ibid._)
_Reader._ I too, doctor, acknowledge that death puts an end to all the
pleasures of this world; but this does not show that our soul will not
survive in another world. We fear death for many reasons, and especially
because we are sinners, and are afraid of the punishment that a just Judge
shall inflict on our wickedness. We would scarcely fear death, if we knew
that our soul were to be annihilated. And therefore our fear of death is a
proof that the belief in the immortality of the soul is more universal
than you imagine.
_Büchner._ “Pomponatius, an Italian philosopher of the XVIth century,
says: ‘In assuming the continuance of the individual we must first show
how the soul can live without requiring the body as the subject and object
of its activity. We are incapable of thought without intuitions; but these
depend upon the body and its organs. Thought in itself is eternal and
immaterial; but human thought is connected with the senses, and
perceptions succeed each other. Our soul is, therefore, mortal, as neither
consciousness nor recollection remains’ ” (p. 214). Can you answer this
argument?
_Reader._ Very easily. That the soul can live without the body is proved
by all psychologists from its spirituality—that is, from its being a
substance performing operations in which the body can have no part
whatever. Such operations are those which regard objects ranging above the
reach of the senses altogether; which, therefore, cannot proceed from an
organic faculty, nor from any combination of organic parts. Now, if the
soul performs operations in which the organs have no part, it is evident
that the soul has an existence independent of the organs, and can live
without them. Accordingly, the body is _not_ the “subject and object” of
the activity of the soul.
That “we are incapable of thought without intuitions” is true, in the same
sense as it is true that we are incapable of digesting without eating. But
would you admit that therefore no digestion is possible when you have
ceased eating? Or would you maintain that I cannot think to‐day of the
object I have seen yesterday? Certainly not. Yet it is evident that I have
to‐day no sensible intuition of that object. That thought in itself is
“eternal” is a phrase without meaning. Thought is never in itself; it is
always in the thinking subject. That “human thought is connected with the
senses” in the present life is true, not, however, because of any
intrinsic dependence of the intellect on the senses, but only because our
present mode of thinking implies both the intellectual and the sensible
representation. The consequence, “our soul is therefore mortal,” is
evidently false, as well as the reason added, that “neither consciousness
nor recollection remains.” Pomponatius was a bad philosopher, but still a
philosopher. His objection is vain, but still deserves an answer. His
reasoning is sophistical, but there is still some meaning in the sophism
itself. Not so with you. After three centuries of _progress_ you have not
been able to find a single objection really worth answering, either in a
scientific or in a philosophical point of view.
Pomponatius brings in another argument against immortality by saying that
virtue is much purer when it is “practised for itself without hope of
reward.” You quote these words (p. 214), but without gaining much
advantage from them. You might have argued that “as the hope of reward
makes virtue less pure, it would be against reason to suppose that God can
offer us a reward, the hope of which must thus blast our virtue.” In your
next edition of _Force and Matter_ you may develop this new argument, if
you wish. Your future adversaries, however, will refute it, as I fancy,
with the greatest facility, by observing, first, that the hope of a reward
may accompany the practice of virtue without interfering with its purity;
for we can love virtue _for itself_ without renouncing the reward of
virtue. Do you not expect your fees from your patients as a compensation
for your services? And yet I presume that you would take it as an insult
if any one pretended that you practise medicine for the love of money. It
might be observed, secondly, that as sin deserves punishment, so virtue
deserves reward; hence a wise and just Providence, which we must recognize
as an attribute of Divinity, cannot leave the virtuous without a reward,
nor the sinner without a punishment. And, since it is plain that neither
the reward nor the punishment is adequately meted out in this world, it
remains that it should be given in the next. I shall not enter into any
development of this argument, which is the most intelligible among those
usually made use of by philosophers to prove the immortality of the human
soul. It suffices for me to have shown the utter falsity of your reasons
against this philosophical and theological truth.