ange in the body, no matter how
infinitesimally small, is followed by a corresponding change in the
soul, then it is plain that, when the body becomes extinct, its
'function,' the soul, must also become extinct."

This is even more appalling than the reasoning of the biologist. But is
there not a little flaw somewhere? We take a branch from a privet-hedge
and shake it; some tiny eggs fall down. In time a large ugly caterpillar
comes from each egg; but, according to the mathematical men, the
caterpillar does not exist, since the egg has become naught. Good! The
caterpillar wraps itself in a winding thread, and we have an egg-shaped
lump which lies as still as a pebble. Then presently from that bundle of
thread there comes a glorious winged creature which flies away, leaving
certain ragged odds and ends. But surely the bundle of threads and the
moth were as much connected as the body and the soul? Logically, then,
the moth does not exist after the cocoon is gone, any more than the soul
exists after the body is gone! I feel very unscientific indeed as we put
forth this proposition, and yet perhaps some simple folk will follow
me.

God will not let the soul die; it is a force that must act throughout
the eternity before us, as it acted throughout the eternity that
preceded our coming on earth. No physical force ever dies--each force
merely changes its form or direction. Heat becomes motion, motion is
transformed into heat, but the force still exists. It is not possible
then that the soul of man--the subtlest, strongest force of all--should
ever be extinguished. Every analogy that we can see, every fact of
science that we can understand, tells us that the essence which each of
us calls "I" must exist for ever as it has existed from eternity. Let us
think of a sweet change that shall merely divest us of the husk of the
body, even as the moth is divested of the husk of the caterpillar. Space
will be as nothing to the soul--can we not even now transport ourselves
in an instant beyond the sun? We can see with the soul's eye the surface
of the stars, we know what they are made of, we can weigh them, and we
can prove that our observation is rigidly accurate even though millions
of miles lie between us and the object which we describe so confidently.
When the body is gone, the soul will be more free to traverse space than
it is even now.

_February, 1888._

Extracts from Reviews of the First Edition.

"Mr. Runciman is