day, to enter into eternity either of happiness or
misery. He had, indeed, often talked of the immortality which some
achieve even in this world; but he had cheapened this, declaring it to be
an unsubstantial mockery, that could give no such comfort in the hour of
death as was unquestionably given by belief in heaven and hell.

Dr. Gurgoyle, however, had an equal horror, on the one hand, of anything
involving resumption of life by the body when it was once dead, and on
the other, of the view that life ended with the change which we call
death. He did not, indeed, pretend that he could do much to take away
the sting from death, nor would he do this if he could, for if men did
not fear death unduly, they would often court it unduly. Death can only
be belauded at the cost of belittling life; but he held that a reasonable
assurance of fair fame after death is a truer consolation to the dying, a
truer comfort to surviving friends, and a more real incentive to good
conduct in this life, than any of the consolations or incentives falsely
fathered upon the Sunchild.

He began by setting aside every saying ascribed, however truly, to my
father, if it made against his views, and by putting his own glosses on
all that he could gloze into an appearance of being in his favour. I
will pass over his attempt to combat the rapidly spreading belief in a
heaven and hell such as we accept, and will only summarise his contention
that, of our two lives--namely, the one we live in our own persons, and
that other life which we live in other people both before our reputed
death and after it--the second is as essential a factor of our complete
life as the first is, and sometimes more so.

Life, he urged, lies not in bodily organs, but in the power to use them,
and in the use that is made of them--that is to say, in the work they do.
As the essence of a factory is not in the building wherein the work is
done, nor yet in the implements used in turning it out, but in the will-
power of the master and in the goods he makes; so the true life of a man
is in his will and work, not in his body. "Those," he argued, "who make
the life of a man reside within his body, are like one who should mistake
the carpenter's tool-box for the carpenter."

He maintained that this had been my father's teaching, for which my
father heartily trusts that he may be forgiven.

He went on to say that our will-power is not wholly limited to the
working of its own sp