At heart he is in full sympathy with the Brahman, with the rude Indian,
with the impassioned English Methodist, with all who cannot shake off
the mystic belief in a life that shall go on behind the veil. When the
pagan emperor spoke to his own parting soul, he asked the piercing
question that our sceptic must needs put, whether he like it or no--
Soul of me, floating and flitting and fond,
Thou and this body were life-mates together!
Wilt thou be gone now--and whither?
Pallid and naked and cold,
Not to laugh or be glad as of old!
Theology of any description is far out of my path, but I have the wish
and the right to talk gravely about the subject that dwarfs all others.
A logician who tries to scoff away any faith I count as almost criminal.
Mockery is the fume of little hearts, and the worst and craziest of
mockers is the one who grins in presence of a mystery that strikes wise
and deep-hearted men with a solemn fear which has in it nothing ignoble.
I would as lief play circus pranks by a mother's deathbed as try to find
flippant arguments to disturb a sincere faith.
First, then, let us know what the uncompromising iconoclasts have to
tell about the universal belief in immortality.
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