e into the _dim mysteries of the future_, to confront, it may be,
the interrogations of the Eternal,--I apprehend _every man's
responsibility will go with him_, and no second-hand opinions will
answer for us."[317] Is there not something here that should arrest the
attention and awaken the anxiety even of the Secularist himself? He sees
before him the inevitable event of death, and beyond it "the dim
mysteries of the future;" he _may be_ called to "confront the
interrogations of the Eternal," and then "every man's responsibility
will go with him." Surely there is enough in the bare _possibility_ of
such a prospect to justify more than all the interest which has ever
been expended upon it even by the most "anxious inquirer." But, haunted
by these solemn thoughts, Mr. Holyoake takes refuge in the other
alternative of his dilemma: "If there are other worlds, those will best
be fitted for the enjoyment of them who have made the welfare of
humanity their business in this." Secular philanthropy is the best, and
only needful, preparation. With this any belief in regard to the future
is unnecessary, without it no belief will be of any avail: for "the view
which any of us may entertain, conscientiously, will be our
justification in that issue, if we should come to want justification;"
"No second-hand opinions will answer for us. Nothing can justify us,
nothing can give us confidence, but the _conscientious nature_ of our
own conclusions; nothing can give us courage but _innocence_; nothing
can serve our turn but having believed according to _the best of our
judgment_, and having followed those principles which _seem to us_ to be
the truth." He takes refuge, then, first in his _good works_, and
secondly in the _sincerity_ of his convictions, as the sole grounds of
his confidence in the prospect of "confronting the interrogations of the
Eternal!"

Is it wonderful,--such being his only hope in death,--that when cholera
appeared in London, and multitudes were suddenly removed by that
appalling visitation, he should have felt it necessary to deliver a
series of Lectures,--now reprinted as "The Logic of Death,"--"with a
view to the assurance of his friends?" Might there not be some among
them who would shrink from a future judgment on the ground of their
"innocence" or "good works," and many more who would feel that they were
making an awful venture in leaving their eternity to depend on the mere
_sincerity_ of their convictions, in w