will not travel forever toward an unknown goal. And when the day arrives that he may look forward to the end of his life's journey, when he may look beyond the sea-line and view there, clear and beyond peradventure of doubt the quickening clutch of the dread maelstrom, the yawning maw of annihilation, blank death-then would human nature turn back upon itself in throes of revolt; evolution would cease, and the human race, after a few reactionary generations, obliterate itself completely from the face of the Earth. Such a conception of the finality of man's existence on the Earth is not impossible; yet it does such violence to common sense, to all the schools of learning, known, or conceivable to man, that we are forced to the conclusion that the demonstration of this question of life after death must be affirmative and cannot be negative. What is the value of a human soul? Is it nothing, or is it everything, infinitesimal, or is it infinite? Let that question be answered and the sociological problem is solved forever. No man would knowingly grind jewels into the dust. And if the human life is not an immortal soul in evolution the sooner it is known the better, that the useless, unnecessary struggle may cease. Would we consciously sow germless seed? Do we plant in ashes? What reasonable being, capable of justice, sympathy and attachment, could breed a child for annihilation? For, in the language of the good gray poet, "If all came but to ashes of dung, If maggots and rats ended us, then Alarum! for we are be tray'd, Then indeed suspicion of death. Do you suspect death? If I were to suspect death I should die пош Do you think I could walk pleasantly and well-suited toward annihilation?" Philosophy of the Good Gray Poet. When you read these, I that was visible am become invisible, Be as if I were with you. (Be not too certain but I am now with you.) What do you think has become of the young and old men? And what do you think has become of the women and children? They are alive and well somewhere, The smallest sprout shows there is really no death, And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it. And ceas'd the moment life appeared. All goes onward, nothing collapses. And to die is different from what anyone supposed, and luckier. I do not doubt that whatever can possibly happen anywhere at any time, is provided for in the inherences of things. Did you think Life was so well provided for, and Death, the purport of all Life, is not well provided for? Life, life is the tillage, and Death is the harvest according. - Whitman. |