to another (the chrysalis and the butterfly) are not 'in pari materia' with
arguments from the visible to the invisible, and are therefore felt to be
no longer applicable. The evidence to the historical fact seems to be
weaker than was once supposed: it is not consistent with itself, and is
based upon documents which are of unknown origin. The immortality of man
must be proved by other arguments than these if it is again to become a
living belief. We must ask ourselves afresh why we still maintain it, and
seek to discover a foundation for it in the nature of God and in the first
principles of morality.

3. At the outset of the discussion we may clear away a confusion. We
certainly do not mean by the immortality of the soul the immortality of
fame, which whether worth having or not can only be ascribed to a very
select class of the whole race of mankind, and even the interest in these
few is comparatively short-lived. To have been a benefactor to the world,
whether in a higher or a lower sphere of life and thought, is a great
thing: to have the reputation of being one, when men have passed out of
the sphere of earthly praise or blame, is hardly worthy of consideration.
The memory of a great man, so far from being immortal, is really limited to
his own generation:--so long as his friends or his disciples are alive, so
long as his books continue to be read, so long as his political or military
successes fill a page in the history of his country. The praises which are
bestowed upon him at his death hardly last longer than the flowers which
are strewed upon his coffin or the 'immortelles' which are laid upon his
tomb. Literature makes the most of its heroes, but the true man is well
aware that far from enjoying an immortality of fame, in a generation or
two, or even in a much shorter time, he will be forgotten and the world
will get on without him.

4. Modern philosophy is perplexed at this whole question, which is