It's wiser being good than bad;
It's safer being meek than fierce;
It's fitter being sane than mad.
My own hope is, a sun will pierce
The thickest cloud earth ever stretched;
That after Last, returns the First,
Though a wide compass round be fetched;
That what began best, can't end worst,
Nor what God blessed once, prove accurst.
--_Apparent Failure._ Browning.
X
_IS DEATH THE END?_
We have been studying the ascent of the soul in the successive stages of
its development, from the dawn of consciousness to the measure of
progress which our race has now attained. But a dark shadow falls across
that history. No one has yet lived who has reached what all have
believed to be the fullness of his possible development. At a certain
period in physical history what we call death intervenes, and we are
left wondering as to whether that is the end of all, or whether the soul
persists and continues its advance unhindered by bodily limitations.
That death is the end of the body, in its present form, no one doubts;
but whether the relations of the soul to the body are so intimate and
enduring that what vitally affects one affects the other is a subject
concerning which there has been eager and constant inquiry, and but
little real knowledge. Job's question, "If a man die shall he live
again?" is the common question of humanity. The importance of the
subject is attested by the prominence which it has always had in human
thought. Philosophers have given it foremost place in their
speculations. Science, while seeking to explore every part of the
physical universe, never escapes from the fascination of this question.
Is the death of the body the end of the spirit? Or, if we have not
sufficient material for a positive statement, is there enough to make a
strong affirmation of probability? We are facing the deepest mystery
which is ever presented to thinking men. Heretofore we have been trying
to follow a history clearly marked in the progress of humanity; now we
can only balance probabilities. But all that has been learned concerning
the nature and development of the spirit of man not only warrants, but
compels, the belief that death is not the end of the soul; and that to
assert that it is, is to deny the revelations of the universe, and to
insist that there is nothing but irony and mockery where there ought to
be reason and wisdom. In treating this subject I can but repeat thoughts
which have been emphasized again and again; but it is so vital, and so
near to the welfare of all, that old arguments become new, and interest
in them increases, the more frequently they are emphasized.
On what do we base our faith that the soul exists after death? That it
does is clearly the faith not only of religious teachers but of many of
the latest and most eminent scientists. Many expounders of evolutionary
philosophy unite in telling us that "the cosmic process" having reached
man, a spiritual being, can go no further in the physical order; that
evolution will never produce a higher being than a spirit, but that the
"cosmic" force will still persist and be utilized in the expansion and
perfection of spirits.
In treating this subject little attention will be given to the
scriptural argument, for there is little if any difference of opinion
concerning the teaching of Jesus and that of the writers of the New
Testament. They are united and consistent in assuming the persistence of
being. That belief underlies all their appeals to the solemn sanctions
of the moral law which they derived from the future life. Jesus himself
said, "If it were not so, I would have told you;" and nearly, if not
quite all the Apostles base their warnings and their invitations on
motives which reach beyond the death of the body. The masters of other
religions have been equally positive. In some form or other they have
asserted the continued existence of the spiritual nature in man.
But we turn, for the moment, from these and consider such evidence as
may be derived from the soul itself, and from what is known of its
progress.
There is no evidence that when the body dies the soul dies with it. It
may not be possible to prove the reverse; all that we know is that the
vital functions cease, and that the body decays. No eye ever saw the
soul, and no dissection ever discovered the place of its dwelling. Is
that ethereal something which we call soul simply the result of the
organization of atoms? Or is the body like a house in which a spiritual
tenant dwells? At least this may be affirmed: No one has yet been able
to prove that the soul and body die together. Then there is no
reasonable presumption against the continuance of being. No spirit, so
far as we know, has returned to the earth in visible form, and spoken
its message; and yet, for aught we know, we may be surrounded every day
by spiritual beings, moving unseen along the avenues upon which we walk,
and entering without invitation the houses which we inhabit. At this
point it is enough simply to grant that presumptions are, perhaps,
evenly balanced. If one asks for proof that the spirit persists, the
only reply must be a Socratic one--Can you prove that it is vitally
connected with the body?
Belief in the existence of the soul after death seems to be an innate
belief. It has been ascribed to the influence of the superstition about
ghosts; but that superstition is only an unscientific form of the larger
faith in the persistence of being. Where did this conviction originate?
We think only of such things as have been experienced. No thought is
ever entirely original. Even imagination cannot create anything
absolutely unlike anything which ever existed. All the fabled beings
who, according to the ancient mythology, filled the spaces and waters,
were but human creatures adapted to imaginary environments. Faith in the
existence of the soul after death could not have originated in the soul
itself; to believe that would be to contradict the laws of thought. It
seems to have been born with the soul, and yet not to be a part of it.
The common conviction of continuance of being can be explained only on
the assumption that it is an innate idea. That this assumption starts,
perhaps, quite as many questions as it settles may be granted.
Nevertheless, it is the only way in which this fact in mental and
spiritual history can be accounted for.
Not only is belief in persistence of being innate, but it is also
universal. It has been found in every land, in every time, in every
religion. Dr. Matthewson has finely argued that the savage worships a
fetish because he is seeking something which does not change[8]. He
knows that he dies; he worships that which he thinks does not die. A
piece of wood or a stone, at first, seems to him more enduring than a
man; therefore he worships the fetish. Gradually his eyes are opened and
he realizes that the man is more enduring than the thing. Then the
object of his worship is lifted from something material to a spiritual
being. The belief in immortality is coterminous with belief in the
Deity; the two forms of faith are always found together. The cultured
Greek, the mystic Egyptian, the idealistic Indian, the savage who
inhabits the forests of Africa, or who formerly dwelt in the forests of
America, alike have believed in some land of spirits to which their
loved ones have gone and to which they themselves, in turn, will also
go. Every age and every time, alike, have borne witness to the strength
and vitality of this faith.
[Footnote 8: Distinctive Messages of the Old Religions, p. 9.]
But still more convincing to me than any of the suggestions which have
gone before, is the fact that it is irrational to suppose that the soul
dies with the body. If that were true, how could we account for the
enormous waste in discipline and culture, in education and affection?
What is the meaning of the love that binds human beings together, if
after a short "three-score-and-ten career" it utterly ceases to be, and
being and affection alike go into oblivion? How can our systems of
education be justified, if the soul is perfected only to be destroyed?
On everything else man spends time, labor, affection in proportion to
the possibility of its endurance. He never seeks that which he knows
will be taken from him and destroyed as soon as it is perfected. An
artist would not spend a lifetime on a picture, or a sculptor in
finishing a statue, if he knew that when his work was completed it would
be instantly sunk in the depths of the sea. We devote a large part of
our lives to education; we cultivate our minds; our affections are
disciplined; we spend time, money, labor for years for the culture of
our children; can it be that all this preparation is for something which
never can be realized? In the midst of the loftiest manifestations of
the soul's power the body ceases to be. With indescribable bravery a
warrior lays down his life, a fireman rescues a child from a burning
building, a life-boatman goes through the surf to a sinking ship, and,
at that very moment when he proves himself best fitted to live, death
comes and he is seen no more. It cannot be proven that this is not the
end, but it is not reasonable to believe that this is the end. If it is,
human life is utterly without significance, and he is most to be
commended who quickest escapes from its misery and mockery.
Moreover the inequalities of the human condition are strangely
prophetic. Much has been made of this argument in the past,--Job and
Socrates both felt its force.
The value of it has often been discredited, but without reason. How
shall the bitter injustice which is frequently found on the earth be
explained? Some have an abundance of wealth, some have literally
nothing. Some enjoy the best of health and strength all their days,
while others pass their years in suffering and trial. Some are
surrounded by families and fairly revel in love and friendship, and
others lead lonely lives toward a welcome end. Some are strong and
brave, and able to act a part in the drama of life; others are weak,
obscure, unknown, and, for aught that they or we can see, might as well
have never been. The law of heredity sweeps down from the past and
brings a terrible legacy to many who spend all their days in trying to
escape from what has been forced upon them. What shall we say concerning
those who are born in lust and must live in the midst of the vice of a
great city, and who, in turn, give birth to a lustful and vicious brood?
Have they had a fair chance? Will their children have? Such questions
have puzzled the most earnest thinkers of all time, and there has seemed
to be but one explanation. Job seemed to be in darkness, until at last
there flashed upon his mind this question, which is also a modified
affirmation, "If a man die shall he live again?" If he live again, then
it is possible that what seems to be unjust may be righted; and those
who have known only suffering and pain during their dwelling in the
flesh, may some time enter into the fruition of their discipline in the
joy and victory of the endless life. The more this argument is pondered
the stronger its force becomes. It carries conviction to all who are
deeply sensitive to the common human experience, and who at all
understand the misery and the suffering of human existence. One in the
fullness of his physical strength may think little about it, but that
deformed girl who asked her mother after service one Easter Day,
"Mother, is it true that in heaven I shall be as straight as you and
father?" is a type of millions of others. Some suffer in body and some
in mind; some have a heredity of insanity or vice--they are born with
shackles on their faculties. If they ever have a fair chance to grow
noble and beautiful, morally and spiritually, it must be after their
bodies have been laid aside. It cannot be said that they do not now
desire benefit and blessing, but it is evident that it is impossible for
their longing to be gratified. The conviction that this is a moral and
rational universe compels us to believe that some time and somewhere
those who suffer will escape from their pain, that those who are
burdened with the evil that has been inherited from past generations
will rise above it, and that the soul will be given an unhindered
opportunity for growth and advancement. The inequalities in the human
condition almost compel us to believe that the death of the body cannot
be the end of the spirit.
A little light on this subject comes from the faith of the world's
greatest teachers. As there are, now and then, those who see farther
than others with the physical eye, so there have been a few teachers who
have been rightly called seers, because their eyes have penetrated
farther into the mysteries of the universe than have those of their
fellow-men. Among the seers of the ages, I think that the two whom all
would recognize as being preëminent are Socrates and Jesus--the one the
finest flower of the intellectual development of Greece, and the other
the consummation of the hopes and visions of the most spiritual people
that the world has ever known. Both Socrates and Jesus believed in God,
and both have taught the world, with no uncertain sound, of their faith
in immortal life. The latter was clearly an axiom with Jesus, for He
said to His disciples in effect, "If there had been any question about
it I would have told you;" and almost with his last breath Socrates
compelled his disciples to think of him as immortal, for he told them
that, though his body might be buried anywhere, he defied both friend
and foe to catch his soul. Socrates and Jesus represent the belief of
the world's greatest seers.
The deep and abiding confidence of the teachers, who increasingly
command our admiration as the years go by, is not to be entirely
disregarded. We may care little what those tell us who walk by our sides
in the dark valleys or on the dusty plains; but there are others who
have climbed to the crests of the loftiest mountains, and who have
looked into a world of which we have only dreamed. When they come down
we listen because we know that they have had visions. Even so it is in
our intellectual life. A few men have risen above the common levels of
humanity, as the Alps above the plains of Lombardy. They have spoken
concerning what they have seen. They have had glimpses of God--the soul
of the universe, and of the persistence of individuals in the realm that
lies beyond the grave. I might not let my faith be determined by their
testimony alone, but when what they say is confirmed by many other
voices speaking in the soul, and sounding through the history of the
world, it is easy to believe that they have spoken of things which have
been revealed to them.
Another confirmation of our conviction of the reality of life after
death may be stated as follows: It is not possible for us to think of
the heroes and singers of the ages as having less endurance than the
words which they have uttered and the deeds which they have performed.
Milton's and Shakespeare's bodies have long been dead. The great
dramatist has recorded a dire curse on any one who should move his
bones. In the chancel of the Church of the Holy Trinity at
Stratford-on-Avon those bones are supposed to rest. But the plays that
Shakespeare wrote are still the wonder of the world, and the glory of
the English race. Is it possible to believe that the man was less
enduring than his work? Is it possible to believe that Shakespeare's
plays and Milton's epic will exist, perhaps, for a thousand years, while
the dramatist himself has utterly ceased to be? You open a neglected
drawer of your desk and come suddenly upon a letter written by a friend
of half a century ago; the paper is a little soiled, but as firm as
ever; the ink is hardly faded; the words are all clearly formed and full
of inspiration; and you hold that letter in your hand and ask yourself,
"Was the man who penned these lines less enduring than the paper on
which he wrote, or than the ink with which he wrote?" Such questions are
not arguments, and yet they have the force of arguments. It is not
possible in our better moments to feel that the great and good, by whom
this world has been lifted to its present condition, have gone entirely
into nothingness.
It was said of our Lord, "It was not possible that such a man should be
holden of death." And it is not possible for us to believe, in our
inmost souls, that those who become a part of our being, whose love is
of more value to us than our own lives, whose memory is the dearest
treasure that we possess, by some accident, a taint in the food or the
water, can utterly pass from existence. If it were possible to believe
that, then the most miserable creature on the earth would be man, for he
would know of his greatness, and know also that his greatness is a
mockery and a sham. In hours of doubt, let us lean hard upon the
question, "Is it possible that those with whom we have walked and
worked, conversed and communed, and by whom we have been helped and
blessed, should forever cease to be, while the houses in which they
live, and the tools with which they labor, will endure for generations?"
The soul is full of prophecies. Only as there may be continuance of
being can these prophecies have fulfillment. The feeling of dependence,
the desires for friendship which are never satisfied, the powers of
body and of mind which are capable of a development which they never
receive on earth, are prophecies of a life beyond death. Not the least
among the reasons for our belief that death is not the end of the soul
is the fact that the soul itself is a prophecy of its own immortality.
It is always best to believe the best. This world and human life may be
interpreted on the materialistic hypothesis; then matter is all and
death is the gloomy _finale_ to the tragedy of existence. Or they may be
interpreted according to the spiritual hypothesis; then within the body
dwells the spirit; then the latter is but a tenant of the former. If the
house is destroyed the tenant goes elsewhere. If we interpret the world,
and human life, according to the materialistic theory all the beauty and
joy of existence on the earth will disappear. We will then live for a
little time; and our loves, our disciplines, and our victories alike
will be only delusions soon to be mercifully ended by death. Possibly
that is true; but, if it is true, then this universe is the embodiment
of the most dismal, desolate, and diabolical thought that it is possible
for a human being to conceive. On the spiritual hypothesis all
experiences are intended for the perfection of the soul. Bodily
limitations, physical sufferings, animal solicitations, may all be used
so as to promote the development and perfection of the spirit. When the
body can do no more the soul will emerge purified and strengthened by
contact with that which is physical. It will then move from the narrow
quarters in which it has dwelt into some larger and fairer room in the
great palace of God. Once more, I confess, we cannot demonstrate the
truth of this faith, but it is always best for ourselves and for the
world to believe the best. With this faith human life is nobler, and
human effort more persistent and enduring than it would be without it.
At the end "the finished product" will be larger, and more perfect, if
there is something to strive for than if hope is destroyed the moment
that aspiration is born. I should be willing to rest my faith in
immortality upon this one argument. A rational being should be satisfied
only with a rational answer to his questions; a moral being should be
satisfied only with a moral solution of his problems. This universe is
neither rational nor moral if the soul ceases to be at the death of the
body. On the other hand, if the soul passes into another and ampler
sphere all the mysteries are explained, and there is meaning even in the
darkest passages of human experience. All things work together for good
to those who are willing to be led toward the higher things.
These are some of the reasons, with which all thinking persons are
familiar, for believing that the soul continues its growth after the
body has been laid aside. Evolution has opened a new vista in human
thought. There had been vague suggestions of it before, but evolution
has done much to confirm faith by its clear and strong testimony. It
prophesies the eternal growth of the spirit. These prophecies are
harmonious with those of the soul, and with the positive teachings of
the Christian revelation. This then is our conclusion:--in the process
of time, in accordance with natural law, our bodies will be laid aside,
some in one way and some in another, but the soul that has dwelt in
these bodies will become free. In ways of which we know not, and of
which it would be presumption to speak, its perfecting will be
continued. What teachers will take it in hand then is beyond our
knowledge; but we are confident that its individual existence will
continue, that its perfection will be along moral and spiritual lines,
that it will grow forever and forever in intelligence, in love, in the
power of rational choice, and into harmony with Him from whom it has
come and whose glory will be its perfection. To believe less would be to
refuse to listen to the voices which speak within and the voices which
speak without,--it would be to believe in an irrational and immoral
universe rather than a rational and moral one.
Our souls have a right to be heard, and their prophecies have in them an
element of certainty. He who listens to the voices which speak within
will never believe that the death of the body is the end of his personal
being. The suggestion of a state of existence from which sin, sorrow,
and death shall be forever absent, into which there shall enter nothing
that maketh a lie, and where sacrificial love is the everlasting light,
is the highest and most satisfying ideal for human life that has ever
been spoken or imagined; and that which completely satisfies the heart
cannot at the same time be repudiated by the intellect.
Let us, therefore, reverently confess that we believe in "the life
everlasting."