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TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER; 


OR, 


A  TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY. 


V 


By  JOHN  DARBYk 


••  /-\i~>  r» 


J 


AUTHOR  OF  "THINKERS  AND  THINKING,"    "  ODD   HOURS 
OF  A  PHYSICIAN,"    ETC. 


?SOFn 


Oa 


PHILADELPHIA : 

CLAXTON,  REMSEN  &  HAFFELFINGER, 

624,  626  &  628  Market  Street. 

1876. 


Get. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1875,  by 

CLAXTON,  REMSEN  &  HAFFELFINGER, 

in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington. 

Collins,  Printer. 


The  Library 
of  Con-guess 


WASHINGTON 


*** 


*^ 


-«i  ,>v 


J.  F>G>N  &  SON, 
STEREOTYPE  FOUNDERS, 

PHILADELTHIA.  ^ 
^ ^ 


TO  "  CEBES," 

Who  may  stand  as  the  representative  of  many  of  the  writer's 
friends ;  earnest  inquirers  after  truth,  sceptical  alone  because  of 
not  seeing  the  way  clearly, 

^JLhis   Jfittle    jjolnme   is.  jpedwatext ; 

the  hope  being  indulged  that  the  meaning  of  life  and  of  living 
will  be  found  in  its  pages. 


in 


'From  the  dead,  O  Cedes,  living  things  and  living  men 
are  produced? ' — PHiEDO. 


T  is  undeniably  the  case  that  the  Positivist  in 
his  observations,  investigations,  and  exclu- 
sions, is  enabled  to  exhibit  Mind  as  a  sim- 
ple functional  expression  ;  and  consequently 
that  it  is  not  a  something  immortal.  Hence 
it  is  that  many,  of  short  sight,  conclude  it  demonstrated  that 
the  teachings  of  the  theologians  are  errors,  and  that  man 
has  no  different  part  or  state  assigned  him  than  belongs  to 
Matter  and  Force  at  large.  The  author  of  this  little  volume, 
in  a  hope  of  being  able  to  show,  with  simple  language 
and  illustrations,  how  erroneous  is  such  a  conclusion,  and 
at  the  same  time  to  exhibit  plainly  and  fully  what  is  the 
status  of  man  in  creation,  has  occupied  a  few  of  his  leisure 
hours  in  writing  the  brochure  here  presented.  That  it  may 
accomplish  the  purpose  of  its  intention  in  putting  to  rest 
many  unwise  doubts,  and  in  showing  how  grand  is  the 
capability  of  the  human,  is  a  wish  not  less  sincere  than  are 

the  convictions  which  go  to  make  up  the  arguments. 

vii 


viii  INTRODUCTION. 

In  making  the  dialogue  an  addendum,  as  it  were,  to 
Plato's  world-famous  controversy  on  the  Immortality  of  the 
Soul,  the  "  Phaedo,"  the  design  is  to  extend  the  meaning  of 
the  present  discourse,  and  to  call  the  attention — of  people 
who  might  happen  to  be  unfamiliar  with  it — to  a  production 
of  which  the  meditative  Cato  was  wont  to  remark,  "that 
when  surrounded  by  the  wrecks  made  in  the  contentions  of 
Pompey  and  Caesar,  it  was  to  the  Phaedo  alone  that  he  could 
turn  for  consolation."  It  is  a  pity,  indeed,  that  so  little 
should  be  known  by  people  of  the  present  day  of  the  great 
controversies  of  Cynosarges  and  the  Academy.  Acquaint- 
ance with  Socrates  and  Plato  is  the  best  possible  guard 
against  coming  to  unwise  decisions,  and  should  constitute 
a  part  of  the  education  of  every  cultivated  individual. 

Aside  from  the  intentions  just  noted,  it  may  not  but  be 
seen  that  a  dialogic  form  is  that  best  adapted  to  a  manner 
of  composition,  where  frequent  explanations  are  rendered 
necessary  in  order  that  meanings  may  be  made  plain. 

In  the  arguments  here  presented,  it  is  assumed  that  the 
capability  of  man  is  tripartite  ;  but  that  everything  else  in  na- 
ture is  strictly  dual.  If  such  a  distinction  be  not  clearly  made 
evident,  then  the  labor  of  the  effort  is  a  barren  one,  and  the 
trouble  taken  amounts  to  nothing.  If,  on  the  contrary,  the 
writer  makes  his  subject  understood,  then  must  it  be  seen 
by  the  reader  that  the  mysteries  of  life  are  just  no  mysteries 
at  all ;  and  for  a  man  to  understand  himself,  it  needs  only 
that  he  inquire. 

Philadelphia,  July  4th,  1875. 


PART  FIRST. 

GENERAL  ARGUMENT. 

PAGE 

The  Queries  of  Cebes  concerning  the  Soul  .  .  .      14 

Transmigration,  a  Text  from  Ovid 15 

The  Ionian  Judgment     ..'-..•••       V     20 

Reflections  in  a  Cemetery 24 

Enquiries  concerning  the  Soul 27 

Protagoras  and  Things 31 

A  Definition  of  Things 32 

Men  and  Brutes 33 

The  Quality  of  Apprehension 39 

Real  Things  and  Images 42 

The  Cartesian  System 43 

Nothing  Wrong  in  Itself 47 

Idealism 52 

The  Creating  of  Things 54 

PART  SECOND. 

THE  SOUL. 

Seven  Senses 59 

Offices  of  the  Senses 60 

God  and  Soul,  one 61 

Immortality        .        . 64 

ix 


X  CONTENTS. 

PART  THIRD. 
WHO,  AND  WHAT  IS   MAN? 

PAGB 

The  Entities 72 

Spinoza 72 

Locke's  Definition  of  Soul 74 

Leibnitz's  Definition  of  Mind 74 

Defects  of  above  Definitions 74 

A  Watch  and  Intelligence 75 

Soul  not  a  Necessary  Part  of  Man         .        .        .        .76 

Mind  and  a  Shadow 78 

Thought,  a  Function 78 

Matter 80 

Force  .        .        .   . 81 

Hegelianism 82 

The  Becoming  and  Departing 83 

Relation  of  Man  with  Brutes  and  Vegetables  .        .      86 

Mind 89 

Genius 91 

Suffering  by  Negation 98 

God  and  Men .        .      98 

The  Writing  on  a  Tombstone    .....         106 


TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER. 


XI 


ARGUMENT. 

NEARLY  twenty-three  hundred  years  ago,  Socrates,  whose 
name  is  familiar  to  all  thinkers,  was  executed  at  Athens, 
having  been  condemned  by  the  judges  because  of  accusations 
preferred  by  one  Melitus  that  he  disbelieved  in  the  gods  of  his 
country,  and  through  his  teachings  corrupted  the  Athenian  youth. 
On  the  day  in  which  the  sentence  was  to  be  carried  into  effect, 
there  were  assembled  in  the  prison  his  friends  Echecrates,  Phaedo, 
Apollodorus,  Cebes,  Simmias,  and  Crito,  and  with  these  Plato 
represents  as  being  held  the  world-famous  conversation  on  the 
immortality  of  the  soul. 

In  the  present  dialogue,  it  has  not  been  thought  either  amiss  or 
out  of  keeping  with  nature's  laws  to  imagine  that,  in  the  cor- 
relations or  transmigrations  of  life,  these  friends  should  find 
themselves  again  together  after  the  lapse  of  all  these  years,  and 
that,  possessed  of  the  lore  of  the  modern  Positivist,  the  conversa- 
tion should  be  renewed. 

In  these  pages  it  is  recognized  that  the  Positivist  is  right  in 
maintaining  that  man  is  an  automaton,  and  in  the  declaration  that 
mind  is  a  function  of  the  brain,  living  and  dying  with  that  mass 
of  matter  in  which  it  has  its  existence.  It  is  also  held  that  the 
organization  of  man  demonstrates  his  ability  to  live  without  a 
soul;  that  a  soul  is  not  a  necessity  to  man,  and  that  he  may 
be  born,  may  live,  and  die,  without  the  immortal  principle.  It 
is  finally  attempted  to  be  shown  that  man  is  the  only  offspring  of 
creation  to  whom  has  been  given  the  capability  of  receiving  and 
holding  the  immortal  principle,  and  that  the  extent  and  character 
of  his  immortality  depend  upon  himself.  What  this  principle 
is,  the  Analysis  exhibits. 


xn 


TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER. 


■O0>©<C 


Socrates.  It  is  permitted  me,  O  Cebes,  to  continue 
with  you  that  conversation  which  the  good  intention 
of  Crito  would  have  altogether  prevented,,  had  we  not 
denied  the  importunities  of  him  who  prepared  the 
poison-cup. 

Cebes.  Nothing  strange  does  it  seem  to  hear  again 
the  voice. 

Soc.  Nothing  strange;  for  that  which  is  heard  is 
immortal;  instruction  resides  not  less  on  the  lips  of 
folly  than  in  the  speech  of  wisdom,  and  he  who  hears 
not  the  voice  always,  hears  not  only  because  that  he 
does  not  listen.  But  heed,  Cebes,  and  call  you  Phaedo, 
and  Echerates,  Apollodorus,  Simmias,  and  Crito ;  shall 
we  not  with  profit  take  up  the  subject  of  our  discourse 
at  that  point  where  the  commands  of  the  officer  of  the 
Eleven  interrupted  it  ? 

2  13 


14  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

Ceb.  Whether  the  voice  be  false  or  true,  whether  it 
bears  the  speech  of  Cynosarges  or  deceives  through  the 
lips  of  a  sophist,  I  will  listen,  hoping  to  find  doubts 
resolved. 

Soc.  Judge  of  a  speech,  Cebes,  by  the  argument. 
This,  then,  is  the  sum  of  what  you  inquired,  when,  in 
the  pen  at  Athens,  we  sat  together  two  thousand  years 
ago.  You  required  it  to  be  proved  that  man  has  a 
soul ;  that  soul  is  something  imperishable  and  immor- 
tal; that  a  philosopher  who  is  about  to  die,  full  of 
confidence  and  hope  that  after  death  he  shall  be  far 
happier  than  if  he  had  died  after  leading  a  different 
kind  of  life,  does  not  entertain  such  confidence  foolishly 
and  vainly.  You  asserted,  as  well,  that  even  to  be  able 
to  show  that  a  soul  is  something  having  existence,  and 
that  it  is  of  a  strong  and  divine  nature,  and  that  it  lived 
before  we  men  were  born,  not  at  all  hinders,  but  that 
all  such  things  may  evince,  not  its  immortality,  but 
that  the  soul  is  durable,  and  existed  an  immense  space 
of  time  before,  and  knew  and  did  many  things;  but 
that,  for  all  this,  it  was  not  at  all  the  more  immortal ; 
but  that  its  entrance  into  the  body  of  a  man  is  the 
beginning  of  its  destruction,  as  though  it  were  a  disease, 
so  that  it  passes  through  this  life  in  wretchedness,  and 
at  last  perishes  in  what  is  called  death.  You  declared, 
also,  that  it  is  of  no  consequence  whether  it  should 
come  into  a  body  once  or  often  with  respect  to  our 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  1 5 

occasion  of  fear,  for  it  is  right,  you  said,  that  he  should 
be  afraid,  unless  he  be  foolish,  who  does  not  know,  and 
cannot  give  a  reason  to  prove  that  the  soul  is  immortal. 
Such  is,  I  think,  Cebes,  the  sum  of  what  you  required, 
and  what  you  asserted. 

Ceb.  I  do  not  take  from,  or  add  to  it ;  such  things  I 
said. 

Soc.  Now  that  the  centuries  which  have  come  and 
gone,  have  left  behind  demonstrations  of  which  the 
sophists  knew  nothing,  and  of  which  we  in  our  turn  had 
as  little  provision — now,  holding  speech  again  together, 
we  are  able  to  affirm  of  things  whereof  formerly  we 
ventured  alone  to  insinuate.  Give  heed,  Cebes;  to-day 
we  shall  have  a  demonstration  which  in  itself  carries  its 
own  voucher ;  to-day  we  shall  be  made  to  feel  that  we 
know  whereof  we  affirm.  The  centuries,  my  Cebes, 
are  as  vantage  ground.  What  Theaetetus  knew  not  of 
the  meaning  of  science  is  now  fully  comprehended,  for 
the  times  have  exhibited  not  only  this  meaning,  but  as 
well  the  end  of  such  manner  of  inquiry.  Let  us,  then, 
talk  together  from  the  standpoint  of  to-day,  for  after 
such  manner  it  is  that  we  have  to  the  advantage  of  our 
discourse,  that  fresher  knowledge  to  which  I  allude. 

Ceb.  After  whatsoever  manner  it  best  pleases  you. 

Soc.  We  will  have  then,  as  a  text,  those  lines  which 
the  poet  Ovid  makes  as  speech  for  Pythagoras. 


1 6  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

"  Death  has  no  power  the  immortal  soul  to  slay ; 
That,  when  its  present  body  turns  to  clay, 
Seeks  a  fresh  home,  and  with  unminished  might 
Inspires  another  frame  with  life  and  light. 
So  I  myself  (well  I  the  past  recall), 
When  the  fierce  Greeks  begirt  Troy's  holy  wall 
Was  brave  Euphorbus  ;  and  in  conflict  drear, 
Poured  forth  my  blood  beneath  Atrides'  spear ; 
The  shield  this  arm  did  bear,  I  lately  saw 
In  Juno's  shrine,  a  trophy  of  that  war." 

Heed,  Crito,  when  all  was  over,  as  you  would  have 
it,  did  you  catch  and  bury  Socrates  ?  *  You  remember, 
my  friends,  that  I  craved  you  as  sureties  to  Crito,  whom 
I  could  not  persuade  that  the  body  he  was  to  bury  was 
not  Socrates,  even  though  I  argued  long  both  for  his  and 
my  own  consolation.  When  I  shall  tell  you  what  I 
now  know,  it  will  not  seem  a  strange  thing  to  learn  that 
Socrates  was  a  mourner  with  you  at  his  own  funeral. 
There  was  a  something  also  that  I  held  with  Simmias. 

*  After  the  conclusion  of  his  discourse,  Socrates  proposed  to 
bathe  himself  in  order  that  such  trouble  might  be  spared  those 
who  were  to  prepare  his  body  for  interment.  Crito.  anxious  to 
pay  every  respect  to  the  master,  asks  Socrates  if  he  has  any  com- 
mands to  give,  and  among  other  things  begs  to  know  how  he 
would  like  to  be  buried.  Smiling,  the  sage  replies,  "  Just  as  you 
please,  provided  you  can  catch  me,"  and  he  then  begs  the  others 
to  be  sureties  to  Crito  for  his  absence  from  the  body,  as  before,  Crito 
had  been  bound  to  the  judges  for  his  appearance  on  the  day  of 
trial. 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  1 7 

If  I  am  not  wrong,  Simmias,  we  did  agree,  after  some 
argument,  that  death  consisted  alone  in  a  separation  of 
soul  from  the  materials  of  the  body ;  that  the  wisdom 
of  the  philosopher  counselled  him  to  keep  the  soul 
always  as  isolated  from  the  mortal  parts  as  possible,  in 
order  that  he  should  secure  to  himself  the  greatest 
pleasure :  this,  we  inferred ;  now  are  we  prepared  to 
understand  that  which  before  we  could  not  prove. 

Simmias.  It  is  well  recalled,  Socrates.  It  was  myself 
who  admitted  that  there  exist  two  classes  of  pleasures, 
namely,  such  as  come  of  agreeable  bodily  sensations, 
and  others  with  which  bodily  parts  seem  to  have  no 
association.  Also,  it  was  agreed  to,  that  pure  knowl- 
edge might  only  come  when  the  soul  denied  all  office 
of  reason  on  the  part  of  the  body.  It  was,  as  well, 
agreed  that  purification  consists  in  this,  namely,  in  ac- 
customing the  soul  to  collect  itself  by  itself,  on  all  sides, 
apart  from  the  body,  and  to  dwell,  so  far  as  it  can,  in 
a  present  and  in  a  future,  alone  by  itself,  delivered,  as 
it  were,  from  the  shackles  of  the  body. 

Soc.  If  I  mistake  not,  Simmias,  it  was  an  inference 
that  a  wise  man  could  have  no  fear  of  death ;  on  the 
contrary,  that  it  was  the  part  of  philosophy  to  court  a 
dissolution  of  the  mortal  ties,  seeing  that  only  in  such 
a  dissolution  could  the  soul  obtain  its  freedom. 

Ceb.  It  is  not  to  be  forgotten,  Socrates,  that,  dissatis- 
fied with  this  conclusion,  it  was  even  I  who  suggested 
2*  B 


1 8  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

that  there  might  be  no  soul  apart  from  body — that  the 
day  in  which  a  body  dies,  soul  is  dispersed  and  vanishes 
like  breath  or  smoke. 

Sot.  You  say  right,  Cebes ;  the  memory  of  the  objec- 
tion has  not  left  me ;  and  now,  with  clearer  vision,  are 
we  to  take  up  the  arguments  where,  together,  we  laid 
them  down.  Heed,  my  friend;  we  will  get  knowl- 
edge of  the  soul  in  learning  what  it  is  not.  The  cen- 
tury that  marks  our  present  meeting  having  in  it  a 
fulness  of  positive  research,  such  as  was  not  found  with 
our  master  Anaxagoras,  or  with  any  that  preceded  him, 
we  find  ourselves  as  men  standing  upon  high  ground  ; 
around  us,  and  within  us,  is  that  which  shows,  with  an 
irrefutable  plainness,  as  it  would  seem,  wjiat  are  the 
meaning  and  end  of  scientific  inquiry;  a  knowledge 
which  we  are  led  to  perceive  had  first  to  be  arrived  at 
in  order  to  the  possibility  of  recognizing  anything  that 
might  have  existence  beyond  the  material. 

Ceb.  Shall  we  not  begin  with  the  beginning,  Soc- 
rates ? 

Soc.  It  is  well  put,  Cebes,  seeing  that  they  listen  who 
were  not  before  auditors.  We  recall  to  ourselves,  and 
to  these  other,  that,  previous  to  the  school  of  the  Ionian 
philosophers,  — of  which  Thales  was  the  founder, — man 
had  not  attempted  any  inquiry  into  himself  or  into  the 
manner  or  matter  of  his  composition  ;  the  world  was  ac- 
cepted by  him  as  he  found  it,  and,  like  unto  a  tree  or 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  1 9 

rock,  he  rested  in  that  in  which  he  found  nutrition  and 
development. 

But  to  Thales  came  the  inclination  leading  to  inquiry, 
"  Who  and  what  is  Thales? ' '  This,  we  remember,  was  the 
question  ever  present  with  the  sage.  But  Thales  could 
find  on  the  earth,  or  in  the  universe,  nothing  which 
seemed  to  him  so  potent  and  so  omnipresent  as  moist- 
ure. Water,  he  declared,  therefore, —  and,  as  it  would 
seem,  most  naturally  and  plausibly, —  to  be  the  one 
component  of  the  world.  A  man,  he  said,  was  made 
up  of  water,  the  earth  is  water,  the  gods  themselves  are 
water;  and  all  was  well  argued  and  weir  spoken,  for 
according  to  the  light  so  was  the  judgment. 

Next  we  are  to  refer  to  Anaximenes,  the  successor, 
shall  we  call  him,  of  Thales.  The  pupil  of  Anaximander 
did  not  agree,  however,  with  his  predecessor.  A  some- 
thing more  persistent  than  water  he  thought  Air  to  be ; 
so  in  this  element,  —  as  he  considered  it,  —  he  affirmed 
was  to  be  found  the  one  component  of  man  and  world 
and  God.  Wherever  life  is,  there  also,  said  Anaxi- 
menes, is  to  be  found  respiration;  where  no  air  is, 
there  is  death. 

Ceb.  And  Heraclitus  denied  the  conclusions  of  both 
his  Ionian  brothers. 

Soc.  Well  remembered,  Cebes ;  the  Ephesian  did  in 
truth  differ  widely  from  those  who  went  before  in  their 
conclusions.     Fire,  he  affirmed  to  be  the  one  component 


20  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

of  the  world.  A  spontaneous  force  and  activity  resided, 
he  said,  in  fire :  Neither  by  God,  nor  by  man,  is  God 
or  man  or  world ;  all  are  of  an  ever-living  fire,  in  due 
measure  self-enkindled,  and  in  due  measure  self-extin- 
guished. Yet  see,  O  Cebes,  all  the  Ionians  agreed  in 
this,  namely,  that  there  existed  a  universal  principle, 
this  principle  abiding  the  same,  no  matter  how  multi- 
tudinous the  changes ;  and,  indeed,  in  this  lies  the  gist 
of  the  Ionian  philosophy. 

Sim.  We  are  right,  Socrates,  in  accepting  that  the 
error  of  this  school  lay  in  the  unreliability  of  the  means 
employed  by  it  to  understand  ? 

Soc.  We  are  right  indeed,  Simmias.  The  Ionians 
recognized  no  source  of  knowledge  apart  from  the 
senses  of  the  organic  man  :  what  these  senses  exhibited 
to  them  they  affirmed  to  be  truth.  Thus,  the  Ionian 
philosophy  means  the  judgment  that  comes  of  seeing, 
hearing,  tasting,  smelling,  of  general  and  special  touch  ; 
these  being  the  senses  that  pertain  to  man  as  an  animal, 
and  being  the  instruments  employed  by  the  school, 
which  we  consider,  to  acquire  its  conclusions.  But, 
even  in  the  far-away  days,  it  was  not  a  difficult  matter 
for  us  to  perceive  the  fallacies  of  Ionian  judgments,  in- 
asmuch as  it  was  of  self-exhibition  that  truth  resided 
not  in  the  judgments  of  senses  simply  animal  in  their 
import ;  for  while  it  was  that  a  man  might  very  well  say 
what  any  certain  thing  appeared  to  him  to  be,  yet  very 


OR  A  TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  21 

little  inquiry  elicited  that  no  two  men  could  possibly 
see  the  same  thing  in  exactly  the  same  manner ;  just 
as  it  is  not  seen  of  any  two  that  in  physiognomy  they 
exactly  resemble  each  other.  To  the  Ionians  we  are  to 
give,  however,  a  credit  which  justly  belongs  to  them, 
for  having  opened  the  epoch  of  philosophic  inquiry 
(all  other  people  rested  in  some  theology  or  mythology), 
but  this  award  is  all  that  belongs  to  them.  And  who, 
Simmias,  are  we  to  honor  for  an  advancing  step,  if  not 
Diogenes?  for  from  whom,  if  not  from  the  Apollonian, 
got  the  great  Anaxagoras  that  cue  which  enabled  him 
to  declare  that,  while  it  might  very  well  be  that  Anax- 
imenes  was  right  in  teaching  that  the  world  was  made 
of  air,  yet  the  universe  was  seen  to  be  full  of  the  ex- 
pressions of  arrangement,  and  that  such  direction  could 
not  possibly  reside  in  a  simple  ?  See,  said  the  Greek, 
all  that  man  looks  upon  is  found  to  be  ordered  in  the 
best  and  most  beautiful  manner ;  and  without  Reason 
this  would  be  impossible.  It  must  be,  therefore,  that 
the  air  is  a  compound,  and  in  it  resides  consciousness. 

Ceb.  Neither  are  we  to  forget,  Socrates,  that  noble 
"  Argument  of  Design  "  made  by  yourself,  which  to-day 
seems  as  impressive  as  when,  two  thousand  years  back, 
Plato  wrote  it  out  for  the  Athenians. 

Soc.  We  may  let  that  go,  Cebes ;  yet  no  more  right- 
fully was  I  in  debt  a  cock  to  Esculapius  than  does  the 
philosopher  of  to-day  owe  an  oblation  to  the  Lydian 


22  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

Anaxagoras.  We  are  not  to  detract  from  credit  due 
Diogenes;  but  we  may  not  fail  to  recognize  in  the 
Lydian  the  planter  of  that  seed  out  of  which  have  grown 
the  umbrageous  branches  under  which  discourse  the 
modern  peripatetics.  All,  said  Anaxagoras,  was  chaos 
until  intelligence  (Mind)  entered  into  matter.  Yet 
heed,  Cebes,  for  here  we  are  to  make  mention  of  the 
paradox  of  the  citizen  of  Clazomenae.  Agreeing  with 
the  Ionians,  he  taught,  as  you  remember,  that  all  knowl- 
edge comes  through  the  senses ;  opposing  the  Ionians, 
and  agreeing  with  Xenophanes,  he  declared  that  all 
knowledge  received  through  the  senses  is  delusive. 
Was  he  right,  Cebes,  in  the  first,  or  in  the  last,  of  his 
premises  ?  Or,  of  possibility,  is  the  paradox  more  seem- 
ing than  real  ? 

Ceb.  Why  not,  Socrates  ? 

Soc.  It  is  to  be  assumed  that  reason  leads  not  to 
truth  \  this,  because  office  is  to  be  denied  to  reason  save 
as  such  office  is  an  associate  of  the  senses.  Reason  is 
a  thing  wholly  and  strictly  influenced  by  the  character 
of  brain  organization,  and  it  is  the  case,  as  has  most 
wisely  been  affirmed  by  the  eleatic  Parmenides,  that  the 
highest  degree  of  thought  comes  from  the  highest  de- 
gree of  brain  organization.  How,  then,  should  it  be 
otherwise  than  that  reason  is  a  false  measure,  seeing 
that  it  is  a  something  dependent  on  the  accidents  of  a 
construction,  and  not  a  thing  immutable  and  unchange- 
able in  itself? 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  2$ 

Ceb.  But  what  is  to  be  the  argument,  Socrates  ? 

Soc.  This,  Cebes :  that  reason  cannot  be  a  reliable 
staff  upon  which  to  lean,  seeing  that  by  no  possibility 
can  this  show  the  same  thing  in  the  same  manner  to 
any  two  persons.  That  it  is  not  by  means  of  a  man's 
mind  that  he  can  come  to  know  himself:  yet  that  there 
exists  a  means  through  which  a  man  may  as  surely 
arrive  at  such  knowledge,  as  that  the  almighty  God  is  a 
self-acquainted  entity. 

Ceb.  To  know  thus  much,  Socrates,  would  seem  to 
possess  one  with  the  wisdom  of  life. 

Soc.  It  was  not  unlikely  so  esteemed  by  the  oracle. 
Give  heed,  Cebes,  and  you  too,  Simmias,  and  Apollo- 
dorus,  and  all  others  who  would  make  an  excursion. 
It  was  one  of  no  less  repute  than  our  other  master, 
Pythagoras,  who  persisted  in  declaring  that  in  the 
number  One  was  to  be  settled  the  principle  of  existence. 
Has  any  one  understood  the  Samian  ?  Did  the  mathe- 
matician comprehend  himself?  Come,  my  friends;  it 
is  in  the  arcana  of  nature,  and  not  amid  the  marts  of 
these  busy  moderns  that  to-day  we  find  ourselves.  Let 
us,  unmindful  of  aberrant  lessons,  set  ourselves  to  the 
contemplation  of  that  wherein  exists,  and  out  of  which 
arises,  all  instruction.  Let  us  renew  our  converse  con- 
cerning the  Soul  —  for  if  it  be  that  any  among  us  shall 
find  himself  assisted  to  the  apprehension  of  this 
Totality,  then  in  truth  must  it  be  that  life  may  con- 


24  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

tain  no  mysteries,  or  possess  no  riddles,  the  solutions  to 
which  this  favored  one  shall  not  find  within  himself. 
It  is  a  place  of  quiet  and  profound  peace,  this  in  which 
we  find  ourselves.  A  cemetery,  people  call  it ;  these 
many  stones  scattered  around  cover,  they  say,  dust  that 
is  dead.  Ah !  happy  provision  of  nature  that  all  this 
earth  has  lost  understanding  of  fevers  that  preyed  on  it 
and  which  consumed  it —  yet  that  it  is  dust  for  which 
new  wings  are  fledging.  But  wisdom  is  not  in  a  grave, 
Cebes,  and  therefore  may  not  arise  out  of  it.  Yet,  of  all 
seats  to  be  sought  by  the  contemplative,  none  may 
have  preference  over  that  where  tombstones  are  found 
under  the  willows.  Heed,  my  friends ;  here  evidently 
is  the  grave  of  one  who  consumed  the  privileges  of 
existence  in  eating,  drinking,  and  sleeping.  Perhaps 
his  dog  rots  with  him.  Why  not  ?  a  dog  eats  and  drinks 
and  sleeps,  and  then.  rots. — "Was  born" — "Died" — 
this  is  all  the  history.  Here  is  a  monument,  a  mauso- 
leum made  up  of  many  pieces ;  perhaps  it  represents 
well  the  life  of  the  sleeper  —  a  piece  here,  and  a  piece 
there,  stolen  from  the  happiness  of  other  people.  There 
are  blurs  in  the  marble  —  not  fewer,  perhaps,  than  were 
in  the  life  —  yet,  as  marble  turns  to  dust,  white  and 
black  go  together  —  the  black  spots  are  fading  as  well 
from  the  mold  beneath.  Nature  will  again  try  the 
quarry  —  hoping  for  better  productions. 

Here  lies  one,  pronounced  by  his  marble,  an  orator. 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY,  2$ 

No  memories  tell  us  beyond  the  name.  Has  his  breath, 
Cebes,  gone  with  the  winds,  and  has  not  Anaximenes 
his  own  ? 

This  is  the  grave  of  one  who  wrote  many  books,  but 
nothing  has  been  left  above  ground;  it  is  a  grave, 
indeed,  Cebes,  and  so  Matter  must  try  in  fresh  form 
for  immortality,—  the  many  verses  were  lines  from  the 
mind;  mind  is  a  function  of  the  brain;  a  brain  is 
dust  —  no  soul  moved  the  fingers  of  this  writer. 

How  great,  my  friends,  must  have  been  the  wealth 
that  reared  the  pile  we  now  look  upon  :  yet  the  name 
it  bears  has  no  familiar  sound. —  A  life,  no  doubt,  was 
this,  which  took  into  itself  a  multitude  of  other  lives  — 
consuming  them,  not  for  immortality,  but  for  the 
purposes  of  nature  —  correlating,  correlating,  yet  all 
to  no  end, —  and  so  all  these  many  lives  which  lie 
beneath  the  stone  have  alone  the  meaning  of  the  mold 
of  the  trunk  of  this  great  cherry-tree,  which,  in  its  season, 
produced  not,  and  which,  as  is  fitting,  rots  not  less 
humbly  than  the  man  as  it  lies  in  the  shade  of  his 
marble.  Yet,  perhaps,  another  period  shall  serve  to 
unite  the  dust  of  man  and  tree,  and  who  will  deny  that 
something  may  not  come  of  the  union? — A  cherry, 
perhaps;  or,  maybe,  a  man  of  such  stature  that  the 
God  shall  find  fitting  residence  in  him — who  shall 
say? 

What  a  great  multitude  of  graves,  and  yet,  all  name- 
3 


26  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

less, —  but  this  is  in  the  way  of  nature :  a  million  seeds 
of  the  thistle-down  scattered  broadcast ;  a  million  ova 
given  to  the  waters  running  in  from  the  sea.  Which  of 
the  multitude  of  seeds  shall  produce  a  plant?  which 
ovum  bring  forth  a  fish  ?  It  is  a  blessed  privilege  of 
man,  my  friends,  that  he  lives  not  -after  the  manner  of 
the  chance  of  thistle-down  or  fish.  The  man  that 
craves  immortality  may  possess  himself  of  it,  and  in 
exact  proportion  with  his  craving  and  his  longing  will 
he  share  of  it ;  and  when  immortality  comes  to  a  man, 
then  has  come,  as  well,  eternity.  So  it  is  that  in  each 
day  such  a  man  experiences  the  fulness  of  living; 
a  day,  to  such  an  one,  is  as  a  thousand  years,  and  a 
thousand  years  might  not  seem  different  from  a  day ; 
the  mortal  has  become  subjective  to  the  immortal,  and 
the  physical  man  ceases  to  have  concern  or  care  about 
what  are  called  life  and  death,  for  to  his  consciousness 
has  come  the  knowledge  that  in  these  there  is  no  dis- 
tinction. The  man  whom  the  God  individualizes  has  lost 
himself  in  God ;  his  harmony  is  in  the  hand  that  strikes 
the  chords  of  his  organism.  Such  a  man  loses  con- 
sciousness of  himself  in  exact  proportion  as  the  God  occu- 
pies him.  Is  it  to  be  wondered  at  that  such  become  in- 
different to  the  body  ?  Is  a  God  to  be  ornamented  with 
a  silken  hat  and  shoe-buckles  ?  Or  is  he  to  be  esteemed 
singular  in  that  his  ways  differ  from  those  of  animals? 
And  the  difference  in  men  lies  simply  in  this,  that 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  27 

some  cry  diligently  to  the  God  that  they  may  be  occu- 
pied ;  but  others  deny  the  God,  and  will  not  let  them- 
selves be  merged  into  him;  and  so,  remaining  as  all 
other  purely  matter  and  force  composed  things,  these 
may  not,  of  possibility,  find  themselves  of  different 
constitution  or  signification.  To  such,  death  would 
seem  to  mean  just  what  disintegration  means  to  a 
stone,  or  what  decomposition  means  to  the  dog  or 
horse.  There  is  here  nothing  that  can  retain  a  sense 
of  individuality,  and  when  we  bury  such  from  our 
sight  we  have  given  their  personality  to  nature. 

Of  all  inquiries  which  it  concerns  men  to  make,  that 
is  the  most  important  which  considers  the  soul  —  the 

Ego. 

"  Ignoratur  enim,  quae  sit  natura  animi : 
Nati  sit :  an,  contra,  nascentibus  insinuetur ; 
Et  simul  intereat  nobiscum  morte  diremter; 
An  tenebras  Orci  visat,  vastaque  lacunas, 
An  pecudes  alias  divinitas  insinuet  se." 

And  is  the  poet  right  in  thus  declaring  man's  igno- 
rance of  himself?  Whether  the  soul  be  born  with  a 
man,  or  be  infused  into  him  at  birth  ?  Whether  it  dies 
with  the  body  and  with  the  material  returns  to  earth  ? 
Or  whether  it  passes  into  other  animals  ?  Not  right, 
but  wrong,  is  he ;  for  it  does  expose  itself  that  a  soul 
may  be  known  as  is  a  body,  and  he  who  finds  himself 


28  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

attuned  may  turn  his  eyes  inward  and  behold  the  Ego. 
This  did  Plotinus  and  his  fellow  mystics  make  plain  at 
a  period  allied  with  the  time  when  Phaedo  conversed 
with  us ;  for  did  not  the  soul  of  Philo  come  to  a  sur- 
face where  it  was  seen  of  such  as  might  behold  it  ? 
And  has  not  this  same  thing  been  observed,  only,  how- 
ever, after  a  different  manner,  by  the  wise  Lucretius, 
who  declares  for  a  nature  that  is  corporeal  of  the  mind  ? 

Corpoream  naturam  animi  esse  necesse  est 
Corporis  quoniam  telis  istique  laborat. 

It  is  not  unknown  to  us,  Cebes,  neither  was  it  un- 
familiar in  the  olden  time,  that  philosophy,  whether 
theological,  positive,  or  metaphysical,  advances  only, 
and  always,  towards  a  single  something,  which  some- 
thing is  felt  and  recognized  to  be  all  things  in  itself 
—  the  origin  and  cause  of  life  —  the  entity,  of  which 
images  and  signs  are  the  expression.  And  furthermore, 
the  learned  fail  not  to  understand  that  while  multitu- 
dinous names  are  applied  by  the  ages  to  this  entity — to 
this  abstract  something  —  yet  it  has  ever  had,  and  may 
only  continue  to  have,  a  common  meaning  and  signifi- 
cation to  all.  Thus,  whether  the  appellation  be  "Ego," 
as  used  by  ourselves;  "One,"  as  it  was  named  by 
Pythagoras;  "Mind,"  as  our  master  Anaxagoras  called 
it;  or  whatever  the  title  employed  —  as  "Idea"  by 
our   pupil  Plato;    Ormus,  by  the   Persian;    "Brama" 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CE METER  Y.  29 

by  the  Indian ;  Zeus,  as  by  the  Macedonian :  or,  to 
come  to  these  modern  people,  "Idee,"  as  by  the  Ger- 
man Hegel;  "Substance,"  as  by  the  wonderful  Spinoza 
—  no  matter  what  the  name,  a  common  thing  and  prin- 
ciple stands  out  and  forth  as  the  representative,  and 
through  no  argument  may  this  one  be  resolved  into  the 
many,  except  as  such  many  pertain  to  phenomena. 
Heed,  Cebes;  if  I  am  wrong  as  to  this  conclusion,  are 
their  none  amongst  you  who  will  refute  me  ?  Truly  are 
we  not  without  learning  sufficient  to  a  refutation,  if  any 
refutation  there  be.  Have  we  not  together  studied 
"De  Rerum  Natura,"  peering  with  Lucretius  through 
lights  and  shadows?  Have  we  not  with  Shungie 
plucked  from  the  orbit,  and  eaten,  the  left  eye  of  a 
great  chief  with  hope  of  increasing  the  outlook  of  our 
own  ?  What  has  Plutarch  told  of  Osiris  and  Isis  that 
we  do  not  know?  And  what  has  Vishnu  Purana 
spoken  of  Brahm  that  we  have  not  comprehended? 
Have  we  not  heeded  the  Yasna,  drank  of  the  waters  of 
the  Talmud,  and  with  a  "John"  searched  through  thQ 
mysteries  of  the  Logos  ?  Notice  the  great  rock,  Cebes, 
upon  whose  broad  face  we  now  sit  holding  discourse  \ 
see  the  sun-illumined  stream  winding  its  way  amid  the 
green  things  of  its  shores ;  look  at  the  brown  ridges  in 
the  ploughed  land  out  of  which  just  now  are  rising  the 
potato  stems  ;  behold  yon  clump  of  deep-tangled  briars 
in  which  the  birds  are  holding  high  revel.  And  still 
3* 


30  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

as  well,  Cebes,  let  memory  carry  thy  gaze  to  that  water 
on  which  together  we  have  so  often  looked  from  the 
Piraeus ;  these  things,  to  me,  Cebes,  are  living  beings. 
Is  not  the  soul,  said  Bharata  to  Sauriva's  king,  one, 
uniform,  perfect,  exempt  from  birth,  omnipresent,  un- 
decaying,  mode  of  true  knowledge,  disassociated  with 
unrealities  ?  Ignorance  alone  it  is  which  enables  Maya 
to  impress  the  mind  with  sense  of  individuality ;  for  as 
soon  as  that  is  dispelled,  it  is  known  that  severalty  exists 
not,  and  that  there  is  nothing  but  one  individual  whole. 

Ceb.  I,  for  one,  listen  not  further,  if  it  is  designed  to 
show  that  severalty  exists  not. 

Soc.  Foolish  Cebes,  are  we  not  in  ourselves  argument 
to  the  contrary?  What  everlasting  peace,  Cebes,  seems 
the  fixedness  of  this  great  stone;  how  the  potato  stems 
seem  as  if  coming  forth  to  a  feast  of  sunshine,  and 
which  indeed  they  do ;  how  glad-voiced  are  the  birds 
in  the  briar-tangle.  I  think,  as  we  sit  here,  Cebes,  that 
these  things  are  as  though  the  Omnipresent  has  said, 
I  will  be  all  voice,  all  ear,  all  eye.  For  think  you, 
Cebes,  that  God  could  exist,  and  not  be  glad  ?  And  is 
not  creation  glad?  In  what  resides  gladness,  if  not  in 
fitness?  And  is  not  all  fitted?  Winter  to  summer, 
spring  to  harvest ;  the  water  to  the  valley ;  the  tuber 
to  the  earth;  birds  to  briar-tangles,  and  the  rock  to 
solidity? — But  this  touches  not  our  argument.  Heed, 
my  friend,  I  will  show  you  something  not  less  strange 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  3 1 

than  severalty  existing  in  individuality.    Follow  closely, 
else  will  you  not  understand  me. 

Ceb.  The  argument  is  to  show  "Who,  and  what  is 
man,"  past,  present,  and  to  come. 

Soc.  You  are  right,  Cebes ;  what  he  is,  what  he  has 
been,  and  what  he  will  be. 

Ceb.  By  an  a  priori  or  an  a  posteriori  showing. 

Soc.  By  both  —  backwards  and  forwards,  forwards 
and  backwards. 

Imprimis,  Cebes,  it  may  not  be  denied,  and  must 
therefore  be  admitted,  that  the  judgments  made  by  a 
Thing  cannot  pass  beyond  that  which  is  the  capability 
possessed  by  the  Thing  to  form  or  make  a  judgment. 
Such  capability,  as  belonging  to  man  —  to  the  natural 
man  —  is  seen  to  reside  in  the  number,  character,  and 
nature  of  the  Senses  :  therefore,  man's  means  of  know- 
ing, having  existence  alone  in  the  senses,  he  can  opine 
of  the  world  only  as  the  world  exhibits  itself  through 
these  senses. 

Ceb.  This  is  not  to  be  denied. 

Soc.  Judgment,  then,  is  as  the  media  which  shows 
the  thing  that  is  to  be  judged  ? 

Ceb.  Why  not? 

Soc.  It  was  one  of  not  less  repute  than  Protagoras 
who  affirmed,  "  that  things  are  what  they  seem  to  be." 
Is  this  right,  Cebes  ? 

Ceb.  It  would  seem  to  be  right,  Socrates. 


32  TWO  THOUSAND   YEARS  AFTER, 

Soc.  When  a  man  looks  upon  the  earth  ftirough  a 
piece  of  red-colored  glass,  the  ground  is  seen  to  be  red ; 
or  if  the  pigment  be  blue,  then  is  everything  blue ;  or  if 
green,  then  all  is  green.  Is  the  thing  looked  upon, 
Cebes,  of  all  these  shades  ? 

Ceb.  By  Jupiter,  it  may  be  none  of  them. 

Soc.  Then  are  we  to  say  that  the  sophist  is  wrong, 
and  that  a  thing  is  not  necessarily  what  it  seems  to 
be? 

Ceb.  This  may  but  be  right ;  but  what  say  you,  Soc- 
rates, that  a  thing  is  ? 

Soc.  I  would  put  it  in  this  way :  A  thing  is,  to  the 
uses  of  the  senses,  what  to  the  senses  it  seems  to  be. 

Ceb.  It  is  undeniable. 

Soc.  Judgment  is  seen,  then,  to  be  the  same  as  com- 
prehension ? 

Ceb.  It  is  the  same,  assuredly,  Socrates. 

Soc.  If  then  it  be  the  case  that  a  man  possesses  no 
capability  beyond  the  media  which  signify  comprehen- 
sion, it  is  impossible  that  he  arrive  at  truth  ? 

Ceb.  It  has  been  proved  to  be  impossible. 

Soc.  Say  rather,  Cebes,  it  would  appear  that  it  may 
be  so  proven. 

Ceb.  But  the  argument  is  to  show  that  a  man  may 
arrive  at  a  knowledge  of  himself.  Did  you  not  just  say, 
Socrates,  that  a  man  may  come  to  such  knowledge  as 
surely  as  that  the  Almighty  God  is  a  self-acquainted 
entity? 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  33 

Soc.  You  quote  me  not  wrong,  Cebes ;  that  is  what  I 
said. 

Ceb.  But  you  have  just  exhibited  that  the  senses  are 
the  only  media  of  knowledge,  and  at  the  same  time  you 
have  shown  that  information  coming  through  the  senses 
cannot  be  reliable.  Wherein  do  you  differ,  Socrates, 
from  Anaxagoras  ? 

Soc.  Not  so  fast,  Cebes ;  I  said  the  senses  of  organic 
life.     Has  a  man  not  more  than  these? 

Ceb.  By  Jupiter,  I  understand  nothing  of  your 
meaning. 

Soc.  Is  there  any  difference,  Cebes,  between  a  man 
and  an  ox  ? 

Ceb.  Assuredly  it  would  seem  not,  Socrates,  provid- 
ing that  the  two  be  found  endowed  alike  with  common 
senses. 

Soc.  But  is  it  not  affirmed  of  the  one  that  it  is  mortal, 
and  of  the  other  that  it  is  immortal?  How  is  this, 
Cebes  ?  Is  the  affirmative  true,  or  is  it  the  case  that  if 
the  one  be  mortal  the  other  likewise  must  be,  or  if  im- 
mortal, so  also  must  be  the  other  ? 

Ceb.  I  may  only  maintain  that  unless  some  difference 
be  shown  to  exist,  what  the  one  is,  that  also  must  the 
other  be. 

Soc.  What  do  you  understand,  Cebes,  by  these  senses 
of  organic  life  of  which  we  are  speaking  ? 

Ceb.  That  there  are  six  means  through  which  a  man 


34  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

learns  —  as  sight,  taste,  smell,  hearing,  and  touch,  the 
latter  being  of  two  kinds,  special  and  general. 

Soc.  And  you  know  of  no  other  media  of  informa- 
tion either  for  men  or  brutes  ? 

Ceb.  What  others  can  there  be  ? 

Soc.  And  the  brutes,  alike  with  men,  you  will  main- 
tain, are  found  possessed  of  these  senses  ? 

Ceb.  It  requires  not,  that  attempt  be  made  to  show 
that  this  is  the  case. 

Soc.  You  must  hold  then,  of  necessity,  Cebes,  that 
if  Hades  exists,  brutes,  equally  with  men,  are  its  occu- 
pants. 

Ceb.  You  say  right,  Socrates ;  this  I  hold. 

Soc.  But  is  not  man,  some  men  —  yourself,  let  us  say, 
Cebes,  to  make  a  good  example  —  found  possessed  of  a 
concept  of  certain  things  of  which  brutes  never  have 
exhibited  expression? 

Ceb.  By  Jupiter !  you  say  right,  Socrates.  Of  the 
Thunderer  himself,  as  an  illustration. 

Soc.  Well  exampled,  Cebes,  yet  no  man  has  ever 
touched,  tasted,  smelled,  seen,  or  heard  a  God. 

Ceb.  Pardon,  Socrates.  On  such  showing  it  is  im- 
possible that  a  man  can  know  that  there  is  a  God  ;  yet 
it  is  seen  that  a  multitude  of  even  the  most  simple  peo- 
ple possess  such  knowledge. 

Soc.  But  not  all  people  ? 

Ceb.  By  Jupiter  !  no,  Socrates ;  some  of  the  Positiv- 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  35 

ists,  for  example.  But  are  you  to  pretend  that  there  is 
a  difference  in  men  ?  or,  to  put  it  in  other  words,  that 
the  men  who  do  not  know  God  are  like  the  brutes,  and 
that  there  are  others  who  possess  a  something  not  com- 
mon to  this  organic  life  of  which  we  are  speaking  ?  these 
being  the  ones  who  have  this  knowledge  ? 

Soc.  Must  this  not  be  the  case,  Cebes,  unless  that 
you  can  show  that  God  is  to  be  known  either  by  being 
touched,  smelled,  tasted,  heard,  or  seen  ? 

Ceb.  On  the  showing  of  the  argument,  I  know  not 
how  to  deny  it. 

Soc.  But  you  affirm  that  some  men  know  of  God  ? 

Ceb.  Wherever  man  exists,  there  is  found,  in  some 
form  or  other,  this  knowledge. 

Soc.  How  is  it  as  to  where  other  animals  exist  ? 

Ceb.  It  would  not  seem  that  a  knowledge  of  God  is 
found  apart  from  man. 

Soc.  Is  this  not  still  another  paradox  that  you  are 
making,  Cebes  ?  You  see  and  say  that  two  things  are 
alike,  and  yet  in  the  same  breath  declare  a  dissimilarity. 
Let  me  see,  however,  if  I  can  help  you  out,  for  if  things 
are  alike,  then  surely  can  they  not  be  unlike,  and  if  they 
are  unlike  it  is  quite  impossible  that  they  should  be  alike. 
There  is,  then,  difference  or  no  difference. 

Ceb.  How  not  ? 

Soc.  And  if  it  be  not  the  case  that  brutes  know  of 
God,  then  neither  can  man  have  such  knowledge,  unless 
that  the  one  differs  from  the  other  ? 


36  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

Ceb.  So  it  would  seem  to  be,  Socrates. 

Soc.  Neither,  unless  a  difference  can  be  shown,  is  it 
possible  to  deny  immortality  to  brutes,  if  such  a  prerog- 
ative be  insisted  on  for  man  ? 

Ceb.  It  is  not  possible. 

Soc.  We  must  show  then  that  a  man  possesses  some- 
thing that  the  brute  does  not,  if  we  would  have  any 
reason  for  believing  the  former  immortal  ? 

Ceb.  This,  Socrates,  must  surely  be  shown. 

Soc.  But  in  such  showing,  might  it  not  come  out  that 
there  are  many  men  not  unlike  brutes  ? 

Ceb.  How  not  ?     Melitus,  for  example. 

Soc.  What  is  to  be  done  with  such  men,  Cebes  ? 

Ceb.  Such,  by  the  showing,  are  not  men,  but  brutes ; 
unless,  indeed,  some  other  name  be  selected  as  a  mark  to 
them  who  have  this  something   not   possessed  by  the 
others. 

Soc.  You  shall  make  what  distinction  you  will,  Cebes, 
but  you  will  find  the  line  a  hard  one  to  draw. 

Ceb.  Give  name,  Socrates,  to  this  something  which 
makes  a  distinction  of  such  importance. 

Soc.  It  is  a  something  never  seen  in  the  brute,  not 
always  in  man,  yet  which  finds  that  which  is  capable  of 
receiving  and  holding  it  alone  in  the  human  being. 
Suppose  that  we  call  it  Mind,  Cebes  ? 

Ceb.  We  will  call  it  mind,  Socrates,  if  so  be  this 
please  you, 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  37 

Soc.  But  what  do  you  esteem  as  mind,  Cebes  ? 

Ceb.  Mind  is  that  which  moves  matter,  or  it  is  a 
something  that  comes  out  of  matter,  and  which  thinks. 

Soc.  Then  it  cannot  be  mind ;  for  not  only  brutes,  but 
even  vegetables,  possess  this  you  describe,  and  our  pre- 
mise now  is  that  human  beings  are  alone  capable  to  it. 
Shall  we  then  try  again,  Cebes  ?  and  might  we  venture 
to  name  this  something  Intelligence  ? 

Ceb.  You  mock  me,  Socrates  ? 

Soc.  I  appeal  to  Simmias.  Are  we  not  at  a  dead-lock, 
Simmias,  unless  that  we  discover  a  something  in  man 
never  met  with  in  other  forms  of  life  ? 

Sim.  It  needs  not  to  be  argued,  Socrates. 

Ceb.  It  is  not  at  all  difficult,  Socrates,  to  perceive 
that  this  last  is  not  the  thing  we  seek,  for  intelligence 
characterizes,  to  a  greater  or  lesser  extent,  all  animals. 

Soc.  You  correct  me  happily,  Cebes;  it  cannot  be 
intelligence.  Might  it  not,  however,  be  the  something 
that  we  call  Innate,  as,  for  example,  the  religious  senti- 
ment ? 

Ceb.  It  is  this,  Socrates,  for  surely  will  it  not  be 
possible  to  find  the  religious  in  brutes. 

Soc.  Yet,  as  I  bethink  me,  Cebes,  it  cannot  be  an 
innate  sentiment  or  thing,  because,  as  we  were  com- 
pelled to  agree,  it  must  be  a  something  found  alone  in 
man,  and  it  just  comes  to  me  to  perceive  that  innate 
and  instinct  mean  the  same;  and  as,  undeniably,  the 
4 


38  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

instinctive  is  more  marked  in  the  lower  animals  than 
in  man,  the  advantage  would  be  given  to  the  brutes  by 
the  admission  of  such  a  premise. 

Ceb.  By  Jupiter,  Socrates,  I  see  not  how  it  could  be 
otherwise. 

Soc.  Shall  we  call  it,  then,  Individuality  ? 

Ceb.  Neither  this,  Socrates,  for  one  has  not  to  ob- 
serve for  much  space  of  time  even  the  most  insignificant 
of  insects  before  that  he  perceives  an  inclination  in  each 
to  look  out  for  itself. 

Soc.  Shall  we  call  it,  then,  a  Sense  ? 

Ceb.  This  truly,  Socrates,  providing  that  we  have 
not  already  exhausted  these  attributes,  and  that  it  may 
be  shown  there  is  a  seventh  sense,  which  sense  is  pecu- 
liar to  man. 

Soc.  Has  a  brute,  Cebes,  the  quality  of  Apprehen- 
sion? 

Ceb.  Meaning  by  this,  what,  Socrates  ? 

Soc.  Meaning  a  perception  of  things  which  are  not 
to  be  tasted,  smelled,  heard,  seen,  or  felt. 

Ceb.  Surely,  Socrates,  no  brute  ever  exhibited  pos- 
session of  such  a  quality. 

Soc.  Neither  brutes  of  high  degree  nor  of  low  ? 

Ceb.  Neither  reptiles  which  are  the  lowest,  nor 
elephants  which  are  the  highest,  Socrates. 

Soc.  Is  any  character  of  knowledge  to  be  found  in 
man  which  may  not  possibly  have  come  to  him  through 
the  inlets  of  the  organic  senses  ? 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY,  39 

Ceb.  I  hesitate  to  make  answer,  Socrates. 

Soc.  Yet  you  say  that  man  knows  of  the  existence  of 
God.     Does  man  comprehend  God,  Cebes? 

Ceb.  Why  not? 

Soc.  We  have  been  compelled  to  see  that  to  com- 
prehend a  thing  is  to  have  judgment  of  it ;  and,  as  well, 
did  we  acquaint  ourselves  with  the  fact  that  judgment 
is  that  perception  which  arises  out  of  the  uses  of  the 
animal  senses.  How  then,  Cebes,  is  it  possible  to  have 
comprehension  of  a  thing  never  seen,  felt,  tasted,  heard, 
or  smelled  ? 

Ceb.  How  not,  Socrates  ? 

Soc.  But  man  knows  God,  and  yet  it  is  seen  that  he 
may  not  have  come  to  such  acquaintance  through  com- 
prehension. Must  there  not,  then,  of  necessity,  Cebes, 
be  an  inlet  of  knowledge  to  man,  which  is  a  something 
distinct  from  the  senses  which  subserve  the  purposes  of 
his  needs  as  an  animal  ? 

Ceb.  We  must  deny  that  he  knows  God,  or  other- 
wise agree  to  what  you  suggest,  Socrates. 

Soc.  We  assume  as  undeniable  the  responsibility  of 
the  senses  of  organic  life  to  the  offices  of  an  organism 
in  which  they  are  found :  the  Sight  shows  the  precipice, 
Sensation  distinguishes  fire.  This,  Cebes,  you  under- 
stand ? 

Ceb.  Nothing  may  be  more  plain. 

Soc.  Comprehension,  then,  resides  in  reason.     Let 


40  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

us  see  how  very  fallible  a  thing  this  reason  is.  Reason 
may  not  justly  and  truly  explain  even  that  which  is 
within  the  province  of  its  judgment,  inasmuch  as  it  has 
its  lessons  alone  through  the  senses;  and  the  nature, 
number,  and  character  of  these  so  vary  that  it  is  im- 
possible that  like  impressions  be  conveyed  to  all.  Thus, 
an  apple  is  a  thing  that  has  taste,  or,  it  is  a  thing  that 
is  without  taste,  according  as  it  is  judged  of  by  a  man 
who  possesses  the  peculiar  appreciative  sense  or  who  is 
deficient  in  it.  It  is  a  thing  having  odor,  or,  it  is  a 
thing  scentless, —  as  olfaction  happens  to  be  present  or 
absent.  No  man  may  take  it  on  himself  to  describe  an 
apple ;  and  yet,  whatever  an  apple  seems  to  be  to  any 
particular  individual,  that  same  thing  it  surely  is  to  that 
person.  To  a  blind  man  an  apple  is  a  fruit  having 
taste,  smell,  sound,  substance,  but  it  is  a  thing  minus 
color ;  to  him  who  is  paralytic  it  is  a  something  yielding 
no  impression  to  touch ;  to  the  deaf  it  has  no  crackle  in 
it  when  pressed ;  if  a  man  could  be  found  entirely  defi- 
cient in  the  senses  of  an  organism,  an  apple  would  be,  to 
this  one,  a  nothing. 

Ceb.  Or  if  a  man  could  be  found  having  an  added 
sense  or  senses,  an>  apple  would  be  to  such  what  it  has 
never  been  discovered  to  be  by  any  other  ? 

Soc.  This  surely  would  be  the  case,  Cebes ;  a  thing 
is  according  to  the  senses  by  which  it  is  judged. 

Ceb.  Then  is  it  not  the  case  that  things  are  not,  in 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  41 

themselves,  but  that  the  existence  lies  wholly  in  a  some- 
thing that  is  a  percipient  ? 

Soc.  Wiser  than  we,  my  dear  Cebes,  hold  this. 

Ceb.  Who  ?  to  name  one  or  more. 

Soc.  The  subjective  philosophers,  Plato,  among  the 
ancients;  he  whom  they  call  the  Idealist,  among  the 
moderns. 

Ceb.  What  do  such  say  ? 

Soc.  Your  memory  is  strangely  at  fault,  Cebes.  Let 
me  recall  your  wandering  wits.  Heed,  if  what  I  quote 
be  not  of  familiar  sound. 

Idea  is  the  essence  or  reality  of  a  thing.  For  instance, 
there  is  a  multiplicity  of  beds  and  tables. 

"  Certainly.7 ' 

But  these  two  kinds  are  comprised,  one  under  the 
idea  of  a  bed,  and  the  other  under  the  idea  of  a  table  ? 

"Without  doubt." 

And  we  say  that  the  carpenter  who  makes  one  of 
these  articles,  makes  the  bed  or  the  table  according  to 
the  idea  he  has  of  each.  For  he  does  not  make  the 
idea  itself.     That  is  impossible. 

"Truly  that  is  impossible." 

Well,  now,  what  name  shall  we  bestow  on  the  work- 
man whom  I  am  going  to  name  ? 

"What  workman?" 

Him  who  makes  what  all  other  workmen  make  sepa- 
rately. 

4* 


42  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

"  You  speak  of  a  powerful  man." 

Patience  !  you  will  admire  him  still  more.  This 
workman  has  not  only  the  talent  of  making  all  the 
works  of  art,  but  also  all  the  works  of  nature,  plants, 
animals,  everything  else,  —  in  a  word,  himself.  He 
makes  the  heaven,  the  earth,  the  gods,  everything  in 
heaven,  earth,  or  hell. 

"  You  speak  of  a  wonderful  workman,  truly/ ' 

You  seem  to  doubt  me.  But  tell  me,  do  you  think 
there  is  no  such  workman  ?  or  do  you  think  that  in  one 
sense  any  one  could  do  all  this,  but  in  another  no  one 
could  ?  Could  you  not  yourself  succeed  in  a  certain 
way? 

"In  what  way?" 

It  is  not  difficult ;  it  is  often  done,  and  in  a  short  time. 
Take  a  mirror  and  turn  it  round  on  all  sides.  In  an 
instant  you  will  have  made  the  sun,  the  earth,  yourself, 
the  animals  and  plants,  works  of  art,  and  all  we 
mentioned. 

"Yes,  the  images,  the  appearances,  but  not  the  real 
things.' ' 

Very  well,  you  comprehend  my  opinion.  The 
painter  is  a  workman  of  this  class,  is  he  not  ? 

"  Certainly.1 ' 

You  will  tell  me  that  he  makes -nothing  real,  although 
he  makes  a  bed  in  a  certain  way  ? 

"Yes;  but  it  is  only  an  appearance,  an  image.' ' 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  43 

And  the  carpenter ;  is  the  bed  which  he  makes  any- 
thing more  than  a  certain  bed ;  it  is  not  that  which  is 
the  idea  or  essence  of  the  bed  ? 

"It  is  not.' ' 

If,  then,  he  does  not  make  the  idea  of  a  bed,  he  makes 
nothing  real,  but  only  something  which  represents  that 
which  really  exists.  And  if  any  one  maintain  that  the 
carpenter's  work  has  a  real  existence,  he  will  be  in 
error. 

Ceb.  But  is  there  not  something  in  way  of  demon- 
stration to  show  that  the  world  is  not  merely  sub- 
jective ? 

Soc.  The  demonstration  lies  within  a  man's  self. 
That  which  thinks,  Is.*  The  nervous  system  of  a  man  is 

*Rene  Des  Cartes,  the  founder  of  modern  philosophy  (1596), 
gained  what  seems  to  be  a  strictly  reliable  basis  upon  which  to 
construct  a  system  when  he  assumed  that,  in  order  to  find  truth, 
one  must  start  in  the  denial  of  any  or  every  thing  that  has  not  in 
itself  the  demonstration  of  its  own  reality.  Any  one  who  attempts 
such  manner  of  inquiry  will  be  compelled  to  find,  with  the  Tor- 
rainean,  that  an  only  thing  which  possesses  such  a  capability  is 
self-consciousness  as  this  exists  in  Thinking.  To  Think,  is 
necessarily  TO  BE.  Hence  the  famous  Cartesian  aphorism, 
"  Cogito,  ergo  sum."  Farther  on  in  this  dialogue  we  shall  assume 
to  show  that  it  is  the  brain  which  thinks;  the  thinking  being  an 
organic  expression.  If  we  succeed  in  such  showing,  we  demon- 
strate that  matter  exists.  Surely  this  would  be  an  undeniable 
conclusion,  if  To  Think  is  To  Be.  That  which  exists  —  being 
evident  to  the  senses  of  an  animal —  is  necessarily  objective ;  that 
is,  it  is  objective  in  the  same  way  and  manner  as  that  which  is  the 
percipient  is  objective. 


44  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

That  which  thinks;  the  nervous  system  is  Matter  — 
Matter  makes  up  the  world.  But  whist,  Cebes,  this  all 
in  good  turn.  You  doubt  not,  my  friend,  that  a  judg- 
ment which  is  not  to  be  relied  upon  to  tell  us  of  an 
apple  which  one  holds  in  the  hand,  stands  in  very  little 
place  when  one  attempts  to  reason  about  God  ? 

Ceb.  I  see  plainly  that  judgment  can  tell  nothing  at 
all  about  God.  It  is  evident,  that  by  learning,  God 
cannot  be  found  out,  or  that  search  will  not  discover 
him. 

Soc.  Still,  he  is  known  ? 

Ceb.  He  is  known  indeed,  Socrates. 

Soc.  Let  us  hasten  to  the  understanding  of  that  which 
they  who  apprehend,  tell  us. 

Ceb.  But  first,  Socrates,  I  check  my  curiosity  to 
understand  somewhat  more  of  this  subjectiveness.  What 
says  the  modern  to  whom  you  have  alluded  ? 

Soc.  It  is  not  delay,  Cebes ;  for  to  know  of  Berkeley 
and  of  Idealism,  is  to  find  ourselves  put  far  on  the  way. 

Ceb.  If  I  am  not  wrong,  Socrates,  this  man  was 
accounted  as  possessed  of  great  virtue  ? 

Soc.  Virtuous  and  learned  and  noble,  was  he,  above 
all  the  men  of  his  time,  Cebes.  '  And  yet  all  this  good- 
ness was,  perhaps,  no  merit  to  the  man. 

Ceb.  You  speak  a  paradox. 

Soc.  The  martyr  was  a  god. 

Ceb.  It  is  well,  Socrates,  that  this  is  two  thousand 
years  after, 


OR  A  TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  45 

Soc.  Was  not  Christ  a  God,  Cebes  ? 

Ceb.  You  blaspheme,  Socrates. 

Soc.  Save  your  strictures,  Cebes,  and  answer ;  yes  or 
no. 

Ceb.  Only  the  foolish  deny  it. 

Soc.  And  was  not  Christ  a  man  ? 

Ceb.  Meaning  by  this,  what,  Socrates  ? 

Soc.  You  are  dull,  Cebes;  meaning  that  his  body 
would  bleed  when  wounded,  and  that  his  flesh  when 
pierced  and  torn  would  breed  scars ;  meaning  that  his 
locomotion  was  by  means  of  muscles,  and  that  his 
uprightness  in  posture  lay  in  the  foundations  of  a  skele- 
ton. 

Ceb.  He  truly  was  born,  and  grew  apace,  as  other 
men. 

Soc.  But  he  was  not  like  other  men. 

Ceb.  You  confound  and  confuse  me,  Socrates.  And 
if  I  was  not  in  confidence  as  to  the  coming  out,  I  would 
fear  to  be  longer  a  listener. 

Soc.  The  God  and  Christ  are  one,  Cebes;  and 
withal,  England  has  seen  no  such  God-man  as  Berkeley. 

Ceb.  How  could  people  see  a  God  ? 

Soc.  Not  with  their  eyes,  Cebes ;  so  that  all  who  had 
not  other  means  of  beholding,  called  the  good  bishop 
a  fool. 

Ceb.  It  was  natural,  then,  that  Christ  should  have 
been  deemed  an  impostor? 


46  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

Soc.  Like  may  only  be  known  by  like ;  such  alone 
called  him  God  as  were  themselves  more  than  mortal. 

Ceb.  Must  a  man,  then,  be  as  a  God  in  order  to  know 
God? 

Soc.  Your  judgment  shall  be  after  the  argument, 
Cebes.  But  heed  of  the  Idealist.  Here  was  a  man 
who  tutored  his  body  into  such  complete  subjection  to 
the  infinite,  that  in  the  end  he  lost  consciousness  of  the 
existence  of  his  mortal  parts,  and  came  to  deny  that 
anything  like  matter  had  being  outside  of  the  percep- 
tions. How,  Cebes,  should  such  an  one  be  tempted  as 
are  common  men  —  meaning,  by  being  tempted,  to 
exhibit  animal  appetites  and  weakness  —  seeing  that 
these  appetites  were  not  present  with  him,  their  place 
being  occupied  by  that  other  something  of  which  we 
are  to  discourse? 

The  philosophers,  Cebes,  are  often  ridiculed  for  dis- 
tinguishing between  the  not  self  and  the  self;  but  hold 
you  ever  in  mind,  that  it  is  the  philosophers  who  are 
the  wise  men,  and  that  they  are  the  silly  who  deride 
their  distinctions.  A  Nearches  cannot  pound  a  Zeno 
in  a  mortar. 

Imprimis,  Cebes,  it  is  to  be  understood  that  bodily 
traits  are  of  temperament,  and  of  the  disposition  of  parts ; 
so  that,  as  the  animal  attributes  of  a  man  are  concerned, 
the  human  differs  in  no  respect  from  the  common  brute 
creation  —  the  one  race   having  alike  with  the  other, 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  47 

passions,  wants,  and  necessities;  and  having,  for  the 
direction,  government,  and  provision  of  these,  certain 
instincts  which  constitute  the  laws  of  an  animal  organi- 
zation. This  being  understood  —  and  the  truthfulness 
of  it  requires  no  controversy — it  is  to  be  recognized, 
that  in  the  actions  of  men,  unrestrained  and  uninfluenced, 
we  are  to  expect  that  same  difference  which  we  perceive 
to  distinguish  the  brutes ;  these  being  found,  mild  or 
fierce,  tractable  or  intractable,  according  to  the  humors 
of  each.  But  heed,  Cebes.  A  man  is  more,  or  better 
saying  it,  he  may.be  more,  than  an  animal.  To  man 
there  may  be  solicited  that,  which,  when  it  is  taken  into 
him,  and  when  it  is  allowed  to  become  his  director  and 
guide,  is  found  to  introduce  him  to  greater  pleasure 
than  any  known  to  the  instincts,  and  when  a  man  courts 
this  higher  something  as  his  supreme  controller,  giving 
himself  up  fully  to  its  direction,  he  is  led  to  find  a  hap- 
piness and  an  elevation  in  living  of  which  the  common 
man  —  the  pointer  of  pins  —  knows  nothing. 

And  here  it  is,  Cebes,  that  we  are  to  find  the  origin 
of  that  idea  of  original  sin  about  which  men  so  un- 
necessarily bother  themselves.  It  is  not  that  in  man 
exists  an  evil  principle,  unless  indeed  it  can  be  shown 
that  the  instincts  are  evil ;  and  to  show  this,  would  be 
to  discover  error  in  the  Creator.  The  rather  is  it,  that 
things  which  are  called  of  evil  and  depravity  are  of  ill- 
seeming  only  through  being  brought  into  conflict  with 


48  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

that  which  is  of  other  origin  and  nature.  Heed,  my 
Cebes.  We  are  to  consider  a  wonderful  paradox,  namely, 
that  a  man  may  have  a  soul,  and  that  a  man  may  be 
without  a  soul ;  and  if  such  a  distinction  be  shown  to 
exist,  it  is  seen  that  the  difference  between  what  is  called 
a  good  man  and  what  is  esteemed  a  bad  one,  lies  simply 
in  this  —  that  the  one  is  a  creature  living  solely  and 
wholly  in  the  laws  of  an  animal  organization ;  the  other 
has  been  raised  through  an  added  element  into  a  some- 
thing higher.  I  will  show  you,  Cebes,  that  what  are 
called  the  faults  and  follies  of  the  one  class,  are  to  be 
treated  with  that  leniency  with  which  we  consider  the 
vices  of  brutes ;  it  will,  on  the  other  hand,  exhibit  itself, 
that  the  actions  of  a  God  are  to  be  judged  by  the 
attributes  of  a  God.  That  then,  which  —  when  found 
in  man  —  is  deemed  of  evil  in  the  abstract,  will  be  seen 
to  be  nothing  else  than  organization ;  and  it  may  not 
of  possibility  have  any  more  of  demerit  in  it  than  has 
the  ferociousness  of  a  panther's  cub,  or  than  is  to  be 
esteemed,  as  in  itself  commendable,  the  playfulness  of  a 
cat's  kitten — both  alike  are  expressions  of  organization, 
and  the  ferociousness  is  as  natural  as  the  gentleness, 
the  bite  as  natural  as  the  play. 

Ceb.  By  such  showing  no  wrong  is  to  be  found  ? 

Soc,  By  such  showing,  charity  is  to  find  sympathy  for 
the"  natural  actions  of  animals,  whether  these  animals  be 
in  shape  like  unto  brutes  or  men.     Heed,  Cebes  !    The 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CE METER  Y.  49 

law  of  the  man  is  the  law  of  the  association  in  which  he 
finds  himself.  Everything  is  wrong  which  produces 
discomfort;  everything  is  right  which  yields  pleasure. 
To  distinguish,  then,  between  pain  and  pleasure,  is  to 
discriminate  between  wrong  and  right.  Evil  and  good 
are  correlative,  and  the  evil  of  to-day  may  well  prove 
to  be  the  good  of  the  morrow,  as,  on  the  other  hand, 
it  has  been  often  enough  found  that  a  good  of  one  hour 
is  the  sting  and  smart  of  another.  It  was  only  a  week 
back,  as  well  we  recall,  that  my  horse,  snapping  his 
rein,  did  take  to  those  strong  swift  strides,  which,  when 
practised  in  the  fields  of  his  pasturage,  we  have,  to- 
gether, so  often  extolled,  because  of  the  metal  and 
fleetness  found  in  them ;  yet  did  the  road,  upon  which 
this  time  he  ran,  lead  to  a  precipice ;  and  thus  that 
which  we  had  pronounced  good  proved  an  instrument 
of  destruction.  And  may  either  of  us  forget  the  suffer- 
ing which  came  even  to  yourself,  Cebes,  from  the  abuse 
of  things,  natural  and  good  in  themselves  ?  When 
Lucon  drowned  himself  at  the  spring,  it  was  only  that 
he  employed  unwisely  and  inexpediently  a  thing  which, 
to  all  his  previous  years,  had  had  for  him  the  meaning 
of  that  very  life  which  at  the  last  it  destroyed.  So 
what  was  it  that  Zuras  said  of  family  ties  grown  cumber- 
some to  him  ?  And  did  we  not  admit  with  him  that 
he  had  natural  right  to  tire  of  whom  he  would,  and 
that  he  might,  in  the  proprieties  of  the  same  nature, 
5  D 


SO  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

take  up  whatsoever  of  the  new  that  he  elected  ?  Yet 
this  has  not  been  found  expedient  by  Zuras,  for  now  is 
he  seen  to  be  of  all  men  not  only  the  most  delinquent, 
but  the  one  most  dissatisfied  and  wretched.  Is  it  not, 
then,  wise,  Cebes,  that  a  man  deny  the  directions  of 
the  instincts  as  hastily  as  possible  ?  not  for  the  reason 
that  these  lead  wrong,  but  because  it  is  known  that 
there  are  pleasanter  and  better  ways  in  which  one  may 
walk.  As  for  ourselves,  we  will  assuredly  not  find  that 
we  are  wrong  in  agreeing  with  Epicurus  that  the  pleas- 
ures of  the  body  are  not  to  be  compared  with  those 
of  the  soul,  and  while  we  may  take  to  ourselves  no 
credit  for  being  of  better  natural  parts  than  is  Zuras, 
yet  do  we  demonstrate,  through  what  we  get  from  life, 
that  we  are  of  wiser  action ;  for  while  it  is  seen  that 
our  friend  has  a  home  which  is  little  different  from  a 
kennel,  others  —  they  who  are  opposite  to  him  in  prac- 
tice— do  find  his  barren  spot  the  most  bountiful  and 
gracious  oasis  of  existence.  And  yet,  Cebes,  both 
kennel  and  home  —  as  it  is  not  to  be  denied  —  find 
their  signification  in  a  law  of  association  :  for  did 
Zuras  live  where  alone  snarl  dogs  and  foxes,  and  where 
the  hospice  is  unknown,  he  might  not  discover  the  loss 
of  anything — he  would  be  poor  to  wretchedness ;  albeit, 
he  would  know  nothing  of  the  absence  of  wealth.  Is 
all  this  not  well  put  by  Herillus,  where  he  so  ably 
shows  that  circumstances  and  events  change  the  mean- 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETER  Y.  5  I 

ing  of  good,  just  as  the  same  piece  of  brass  might  be- 
come a  statue  either  of  Alexander,  or,  — let  us  say,  of 
Cebes?  And  was  I  not  right  when  I  gave  it  as  an 
aphorism  to  Thaetetus,  that  whatever  things  appear 
just  and  honorable  to  each  city,  these  are  so  to  that 
city  so  long  as  it  thinks  them  so  ? 

There  are  demigods,  Cebes,  and  these  walk  the 
earth,  and  in  seeming  are  like  common  men ;  but  there 
is  a  great,  even  if  an  unseen,  difference  —  they  are 
not  as  common  men.  Who,  in  all  Leyden,  was  like 
unto  the  student  Heinsius,  as  he  sat  in  the  lap  of 
eternity  amongst  the  divine  souls  ?  And  what  but  the 
God  carried  u^Eneas  in  his  flight  from  Dido  ?  It  is  not 
difficult  to  show  that  a  man  possesses,  or  may  possess, 
a  something,  which  pertains  not  to  the  capability  of 
the  brute. 

No  error  is  so  great,  no  one  so  destructive  to  the 
true  purpose  and  intent  of  living,  as  that  which  con- 
siders what  is  ordinarily  called  success,  as  necessarily 
the  true  success.  No  advantage  can  be  a  true  gain,  in 
which  the  signification  is  temporary ;  no  accumulation 
can  have  the  meaning  of  riches,  where  the  coin  has 
currency  in  the  day  alone  on  which  it  has  been 
gathered;  yet  these  are  the  advantages  that  a  multi- 
tude seek,  and  which,  when  secured,  receive  the 
plaudits  of  a  greater  multitude.  Is  the  meaning  plain, 
Cebes  ?     Is  it  the  soul  which  is  to  govern  the  body,  or 


52  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

is  it  the  body  that  is  to  govern  the  soul  ?  Or  shall  we 
consider  that  I  spoke  the  full  truth  when  I  affirmed, 
formerly,  that  a  soul  while  imprisoned  in  a  body  might 
not  live  its  life  of  wisdom?  It  is  a  little  thing,  and 
quick  done  with,  this  present  of  ours,  yet  where  is  the 
man  but  that  refuses  to  enjoy  it  ?  Not  that  men  are 
wise,  and  in  an  understanding  of  the  transitory  char- 
acter of  a  present,  seek  to  lay  up  treasures  for  use  in 
some  other  day  that  shall  be  longer;  quite  the  con- 
trary—  that  other  day  is  the  last  thing  that  enters  into 
the  calculation.  Heed,  Cebes,  a  demigod  is  that 
man  whose  soul  is  strong  enough  to  coerce  the  body. 
As  an  example,  a  better,  perhaps,  might  not  be  pointed 
out  than  this  same  Idealist,  whose  fulness  and  strength 
of  soul  were  so  great  that  he  might  not  esteem  matter 
as  being  anything  else  than  a  subjective  existence ;  and 
yet,  my  friend,  all  the  learning  of  Cloyne's  bishop 
did  not  save  the  great  and  good  man  from  the  slurs 
and  innuendoes  of  the  pin-pointers  —  but  the  ridicule 
did  not  make  a  pin-pointer  out  of  the  demigod. 

One  is  to  understand  of  Idealism,  Cebes,  in  under- 
standing that  God's  ways  are  not  as  are  men's  ways,  and 
that  in  proportion  as  a  human  draws  to  himself  a  soul, 
so,  in  like  proportion,  does  matter  become  annihilated 
to  him.  This,  I  think,  is  all,  Cebes;  although  the 
philosophers,  when  they  discourse  of  Idealism,  do  not 
put  it  after  this  manner,  but  speak  rather  somewhat  thus  : 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  53 

All  sensation,  they  would  say,  is  to  be  found  within  a 
man's  self.  What  any  one  thinks  that  he  sees  or  handles 
or  hears,  this  he  perceives  within  his  own  consciousness, 
and  not  as  an  object  which  has  existence  in  itself.  The 
existence  of  a  thing  lies  in  the  idea  of  the  thing ;  and 
as  an  idea  may  only  exist  to  the  consciousness,  so  a 
thing  cannot  be  anything  else  than  subjective. 

Ceb.  Would  the  Idealist  say  that  a  brick  is  not  a 
brick,  or  that  a  tree  which  stands  in  one's  way  is  not  at 
all  in  the  place  where  it  seems  to  be?  If  he  says  thus, 
does  he  speak  else  than  nonsense,  Socrates  ? 

Soc.  You  forget  our  own  definition,  Cebes:  "a 
thing  is,  to  the  uses  of  the  senses,  what  to  the  senses  it 
seems  to  be.M  Whether  a  thing  exists  as  object  or  sub- 
ject, makes  no  jot  of  difference  as  the  needs  and  neces- 
sities of  the  conscious  man  are  concerned.  A  brick  is 
found  to  answer  the  purpose  of  the  wall,  and  what 
serves  the  meaning  of  fruit  is  plucked  from  a  tree. 
One  has  no  concern  to  trouble  himself  as  to  whether 
bricks  or  trees  are  external  or  internal. 

Ceb.  You  say  that  this  founder  was  of  great  learn- 
ing? 

Soc.  He  was  inspired,  Cebes  —  as  men  are  inspired 
who  speak  the  words  of  the  God  within  them. 

Ceb.  I  think,  Socrates,  that  we  have  here  come  to 
an  involvement  from  which  we  shall  scarcely  extricate 
ourselves.  You  accept,  with  Des-Cartes,  that  conscious- 
5* 


54  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

ness  is  existence,  and  you  have  declared  your  intention 
and  ability  to  show  that  consciousness  has  existence 
alone  in  a  brain,  and  that  a  brain  is  matter  —  transfer- 
ring thus  existence  from  an  idea  to  an  object.  Now  you 
accept,  as  using  the  speech  of  the  God,  one  who  sep- 
arates consciousness  from  matter,  denying  any  objective 
existence  to  the  latter.  See,  Socrates,  the  God  sep- 
arates what  you  put  together. 

Soc.  What  if  we  should  say,  Cebes,  that  conscious- 
ness is  subjective  to  the  God  ? 

Ceb.  We  are  extricated,  Socrates;  and  it  is  seen 
that  the  God  makes  a  world  by  the  simple  act  of  turn- 
ing a  thought  to  its  creation. 

Soc.  How  would  you  explain  this,  Cebes  ? 

Ceb.  Nothing  is  easier.  Objects  being  things  having 
existence  alone  in  consciousness,  we  have  only  to  assume 
that  in  like  manner  consciousness  is  subjective  to  the 
mind  of  the  God;  just  as  you  put  it,  Socrates;  and 
thus,  understanding,  of  our  own  consciousness,  how 
things  are  made  to  us,  we  are  at  no  loss  in  perceiving 
how  the  God,  even  by  so  simple  a  means  as  an  act  of 
thought,  may  make  not  only  men  and  other  animals, 
*but  as  well  a  world.  Why,  even  a  man,  Socrates,  can 
do  much  of  the  same  thing,  and  indeed,  according  to 
this  showing,  he  is  constantly  engaged  in  creating. 

Soc.  Yet,  Cebes,  these  Christians,  among  whom  we 
find  ourselves,  dispute  as  to  the  ability  of  the  God  to 
resurrect  their  bodies, 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  55 

Ceb.  Do  such  not  see,  Socrates,  that  in  every  dream 
they  of  themselves  perform  this  miracle  ? 

Soc.  It  is  strange,  Cebes ;  but  they  see  it  not,  even 
though  it  be  so  plain.  But  now  that  there  are  no 
Eleven  to  prevent,  let  us  separate,  for  I  perceive  that 
Apollodorus  gives  much  evidence  of  weariness.  To- 
morrow we  will  have  the  argument  and  demonstration, 
and  with  the  God's  help  we  shall  not  then  part  until 
we  know,  even  as  we  are  known. 


SOUL. 


57 


THE   SOUL. 


Soc.  The  argument,  Cebes,  is  founded  on  the  quality 
of  what  we  have  defined  as  Apprehension. 

As  man  knows  himself  and  finds  himself,  so  he  is 
able,  directly  and  indirectly,  to  recognize  the  ex- 
istence of  seven  senses:  i,  of  Sight;  2,  of  Taste;  3, 
of  Smell;  4,  of  Hearing;  5,  of  Special  Touch;  6,  of 
General  Sensation ;  and  7,  of  Apprehension.  The  first 
six  of  these,  as  we  have  felt  ourselves  compelled  to 
acknowledge,  are  common  to  man  and  the  animals  at 
large.  The  seventh  is  not  necessarily  a  possession  of 
man,  yet,  when  met  with,  is  found  in  the  human  alone. 

Whatever,  in  reality,  things  may  he,  things  are  to 
the  uses  of  the  senses  what  to  the  senses  they  seem  to 
be ;  and  a  thing,  anything,  howsoever  different  it  may 
appear  to  different  people,  is,  to  the  uses  of  each  person, 
what,  to  the  sense  which  would  employ  it,  it  seems  to 

59 


60  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

that  sense  to  be.  This,  Cebes,  we  will  consider  as 
established,  unless  indeed  the  keen  power  of  analysis 
that  lies  within  you  may  discover  a  weakness,  and  thus 
demolish  the  assumption. 

Ceb.  My  thoughts  have  done  nothing  but  consider 
the  definition,  Socrates,  since  yester-noon  it  was  given 
by  you.  I  accept  it  as  irrefutable.  It  is  a  wonderful 
definition,  for  I  cannot  but  see  that  it  completely 
reconciles  even  such  opposites  as  the  subjective  and 
objective  philosophies. 

Sim.  It  is  your  Daemon,  Socrates,  that  has  spoken  the 
word. 

Soc.  You  understand  me,  then ;  the  senses  have  office 
—  one  sense  sees,  another  tastes,  a  third  hears,  a 
fourth  smells,  a  fifth  and  sixth  touch.  What,  now, 
Cebes,  is  the  office  of  this  seventh  ?  for  surely,  if  it  is  a 
sense,  it  may  not  be  without  office  of  some  kind  or  other. 

Ceb.  I  do  not  forget,  Socrates,  that  we  have  pro- 
nounced it  to  be  the  sense  which  has  to  do  with  the 
something  which  distinguishes  the  capabilities  of  the 
man  from  other  animals. 

Soc.  Well  remembered,  Cebes.  Then,  as  no  office  is 
found  for  this  sense  as  relation  is  had  with  the  material 
wants,  and  as  a  sense  may  not  exist  without  office,  so 
the  demonstration  is  to  be  considered  as  complete  that 
it  is  the  instrument  of  man's  relation  with  the  God. 

Ceb.  Does  a  sense  exist  elsewhere  than  in  itself? 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  6 1 

Soc.  What  penetration  you  exhibit,  Cebes  But  let 
us  see.  What  is  a  Sense  ?  For  instance,  what  would 
you  call  the  sense  of  sight  ? 

Ceb.  I  would  say  that  the  sense  of  sight  is  an  instru- 
ment composed  of  eyes,  optic  nerves,  and  lobes ;  these 
constituting  a  system  whose  office  it  is  to  see. 

Soc.  And  would  you  say  that  if  there  was  no  such  a 
system  as  this,  that  then  there  would  be  no  such  a  thing 
as  sight  ? 

Ceb.  It  shows  itself  to  be  as  you  say. 

Soc.  Remember,  Cebes,  you  have  admitted  that  the 
measure  of  things  exists  alone  in  the  senses.  Do  you 
mean  us  to  understand  by  this,  that  things  appreciated 
and  understood  alone  through  Sight  would  have  no 
existence  to  a  man  who  is  without  this  system  or  sense 
that  you  have  so  learnedly  named  ? 

Ceb.  How  might  it  be  otherwise,  Socrates  ? 

Soc.  And  would  you  further  say  that  if  there  was  in 
the  world  no  such  a  thing  as  the  sense  of  sight,  that 
then  likewise  all  things  which  are  seen,  would  have  no 
existence,  as  sight  is  concerned  ? 

Ceb.  This  I  say. 

Soc.  And  suppose,  Cebes,  that  all  the  senses  by 
which  men  know  the  world  were  abolished  ? 

Ceb.  Then  it  follows,  Socrates,  that  there  would  be 
no  world. 

Soc.  What  say  you,  Simmias ;  is  the  conclusion  right  ? 
6 


62  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

Sim.  I  see  not  how  Cebes  may  say  otherwise. 

Soc.  Give  heed,  Cebes.  You  have  proven  to  our 
satisfaction  that  sight  exists  in  Sight,  and  likewise  of 
the  other  senses  that  the  meaning  of  each  lives  in  a 
same  manner.  Now,  what  is  that  sense  which  tells  us 
about  the  God? 

All.  Oh!    Socrates. 

Soc.   Give  it  name,  Cebes. 

Ceb.  I  am  overwhelmed,  and  dare  not  speak  the  word. 

Soc.  How  is  it,  Cebes,  with  men  who  do  not  know 
the  God  ? 

Ceb.  It  follows  necessarily,  Socrates,  that  they  do 
not  differ  from  the  brutes. 

Soc.  A  man  differs  from  a  brute,  then,  in  proportion 
to  the  quality  and  amount  of  the  sense  of  Apprehension 
found  with  him  ? 

Ceb.  On  the  showing;  this  is  to  be  accepted. 

Soc.  Then,  if  a  man  be  met  with  who,  being  deficient 
in  those  common  senses  which  conduce  to  earthly  lore, 
or  having  them  of  such  mean  quality  that  the  judg- 
ment and  thinking  that  come  of  them  are  beneath  com- 
mendation ;  if  such  a  man  be  found  possessed  in  abun- 
dance of  the  seventh  sense,  shall  it  prove  to  be  the  case 
that  this  one  knows  more  of  God  than  may  a  multitude 
of  brighter  men  ? 

Ceb.  It  seems  to  me,  Socrates,  that  we  have  only  to 
put  it  thus :  If  a  multitude  be  deficient  in  the  sense 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  63 

of  Sight,  and  one  be  found  greatly  endowed  in  such 
quality,  shall  not  this  latter  see  things  clearer  and 
better  than  may  all  the  others,  even  if  put  together  ? 

Soc.  You  comprehend  me,  Cebes.  Who  knows  of 
the  God  is  told  by  the  God.  In  proportion  as  a  man 
knows  of  the  Divinity,  so,  it  would  seem,  the  Divine  is 
within  him.  Can  a  man  cultivate  the  sense  of  Touch, 
Cebes? 

Ceb.  Why  not? 

Soc.  Or  may  the  sense  of  Hearing  be  enlarged  ? 

Ceb.  Witness  the  refinements  of  the  musicians, 
Socrates. 

Soc.  What  then  follows  concerning  this  sense  of  Ap- 
prehension? Can  a  man,  Cebes,  grow  the  God  in 
himself? 

Ceb.  It  follows  as  a  necessity. 

Soc.  According,  then,  as  a  man  cultivates  the  Divine 
sense,  so  is  he  found  to  know  of  that  which  the  sense 
is;  just,  indeed,  as  in  proportion  to  the  acuteness  of 
the  common  senses  possessed  by  him  is  he  found  able 
to  tell  well,  or  indifferently,  of  what  is  touch,  taste, 
smell,  or  condition.  What  we  call  inspired  men  are 
men  preeminently  endowed  with  Godliness.  Moses 
had  such  largess  that  ages  before  the  physicist  had 
name  the  sage  knew,  through  the  God  that  occupied 
him,  of  the  secrets  of  creation.  Christ  was  so  full  of 
the  God  that  all  men  who  have  God  in  them  call  him 


64  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

"The  God,"  just,  Cebes,  as  a  drop  of  water  might 
call  the  lake  a  sea.  Yet  in  turn  did  Christ  speak  of 
the  God  :   "  Eli,  Eli,  lama  sabachthani. ' ' 

Is  the  God  immortal,  Cebes  ? 

Ceb.  It  so  declares  itself  to  be,  and  knowing  neces- 
sarily itself,  what  is  affirmed,  is. 

Soc.  But  what  of  a  man  ?  Is  a  man  likewise  im- 
mortal ? 

Ceb.  I  may  answer  only  through  the  argument, 
Socrates.  If  God  is  immortal  then  man  is  immortal, 
and  his  consciousness  of  the  immortality  would  seem 
to  be  in  proportion  to  the  God  possessed  by  him. 

Soc.  But  how  about  men  who  do  not  possess  this 
quality  of  Godliness  ? 

Ceb.  Such,  by  the  showing,  cannot  be  immortal,  for, 
as  we  have  seen,  the  difference  between  man  and  the 
brute  lies  alone  in  this  quality,  and  if  men  having  it 
not,  are  immortal,  we  have  seen  that  brutes  likewise 
must  be  immortal ;  and  this  last  is  not  so  by  the  speak- 
ing of  the  God. 

Soc.  Then,  walking  the  earth,  there  are  men  and 
God-men  —  or  demigods  ? 

Ceb.  The  argument  would  show  that  it  is  thus, 
Socrates. 

Soc.  Then  we  are  to  say  that  that  idea  of  Pythagoras, 
that  the  soul  is  a  necessary  circle,  is  not  a  just  idea  ? 
Or  rather  would  you  prefer  to  say,  Cebes,  that  ^Ethalides 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  65 

did,  indeed,  become  Euphorbus,  and  that  in  turn 
Euphorbus  became  Hermotimus ;  Hermotimus  still  in 
turn  Pyrrhus,  and  that  yet  again  Pyrrhus  passed  into 
the  son  of  the  seal-engraver  ? 

Ceb.  I  think,  Socrates,  that  it  corresponds  best  with 
what  we  opine  of  the  God,  to  say  the  latter. 

Soc.  But  what  concerning  a  transmigration  through 
other  animals  ? 

Ceb.  The  argument  shows  that  here  the  Tyrrhenian 
was  wrong ;  except,  indeed,  that  it  might  be  shown  he 
was  not  without  understanding  of  the  transmigrations 
which  convert  stones  into  vegetables,  vegetables  into 
beasts,  and  beasts  into  men,  and  that  thus  he  under- 
stood a  Providence  which,  in  the  end,  brings  all  things 
into  a  circle.  Think  you  that  Pythagoras  understood 
this,  Socrates? 

Soc.  You  must  recall  what  he  said  of  the  monad. 
But  why  say  you,  Cebes,  that  a  metempsychosis  cor- 
responds with  what  a  God  knows  of  himself?  —  we 
shall  say  that  the  God  is  in  Cebes,  shall  we  not  ? 

Ceb.  If  so  be  it  pleases  you,  Socrates,  you  may  say 
that  Cebes  courts  the  God.  But  make  answer;  is 
the  God,  and  that  which  we  call  Life,  anything  dif- 
ferent ? 

Soc.  They  are  different,  Cebes ;  that  is,  different  to 

the  extent  that  one  is  Cause,  the  other,  Effect. 

Ceb.  This  has  not  been  shown. 
6*  E 


66  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

Soc.  Nothing  has  as  yet  been  demonstrated  ;  we  are 
coming  to  this,  Cebes. 

Ceb.  Give  it  definition,  Socrates. 

Soc.  Will  it  suit  the  purpose  of  what  you  would  say, 
to  esteem  it  as  Severalty  existing  in  Oneness  ? 

Ceb.  I  stand  rebuked,  and  will  not  again  forget  that 
you  have  before  so  named  it.  And,  indeed,  I  should 
shame  to  have  to  be  reminded,  because  of  the  alarm  it 
created. 

Soc.  Use  this,  then,  if  it  stands  your  purpose,  Cebes. 

Ceb.  It  stands  it  well,  Socrates ;  for  if  the  God  have 
Severalty,  then  it  follows  that  the  Entity  is  broken  up  in 
its  offices,  and  if  broken  up  in  its  offices,  why  should 
these  go  out  because  that  a  desk  breaks  down  or  a  roof 
falls  in ;  the  office  is  not  in  desk  or  roof? 

Soc.  Then  we  are  to  esteem  Cebes  as  a  Pythagorean  ? 

Ceb.  Give  heed,  Socrates.  Would  you  say  that  when 
the  God  goes  out  of  a  man  because  that  the  body  falls 
to  pieces,  that  then  the  God  ceases  to  perform  an  office, 
and  that  an  eternity  is  spent  in  the  stillness  and  nothing- 
ness which  come  of  being  without  office  ? 

Soc.  I  would  say  not  thus,  Cebes;  but  the  rather 
agree  with  what  I  infer  you  would  say,  namely,  that 
the  story  of  Ponticus  is  true,  and  that  Pythagoras  is 
indeed  the  son  of  Mercury. 

Ceb.  Then  are  we  to  say  that  the  God  has  no  better 
office  than  that  in  which  a  God-man  finds  himself? 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY,  6j 

Soc.  A  God-man  is  certainly  to  say  this  as  concern 
is  had  to  himself,  and  as  regard  is  had  to  his  offices  and 
influence.  Is  not  the  God  the  happiness  and  grace  of 
the  world,  Cebes  ? 

Ceb.  This,  of  necessity. 

Soc.  Howis  it,  Cebes  ? 

Ceb.  I  see  it  all,  Socrates.  It  is  through  his  resi- 
dence in  man. 

Soc.  Then  does  it  not  follow  that  the  God  continues 
as  he  is  known ;  that  is,  as  a  God-man  knows  himself; 
for  if  with  each  change  he  should  take  himself  away, 
and  come  not  back  again,  what  should  save  the  world 
from  having  each  day,  and  day  after  day,  somewhat  less 
of  that  which  you  say  constitutes  its  happiness  and 
grace  ? 

Ceb.  You  would  say,  Socrates,  that  it  is  for  a  man  to 
do  his  best  in  a  situation  in  which  he  finds  himself — 
not  troubling  the  God  about  any  to-morrow. 

Soc.  I  would  say,  Cebes,  that  the  God  has  no  to- 
morrow. 


MIND. 


WHO,  AND  WHAT  IS  MAN  ? 


69 


WHO,  AND  WHAT  IS  MAN? 


Soc.  Understand  of  what  has  been  said,  Cebes, 
through  what  is  now  said. 

Ceb.  Unless,  indeed,  Socrates,  the  God  has  already- 
given  me  to  understand  it. 

Soc.  It  is  well  spoken.  And  if  it  be  that  He  fault 
the  present  discourse,  then  is  our  show  of  demonstra- 
tion to  be  esteemed  of  less  import  than  the  sound  of  a 
bell ;  for  this,  as  we  well  know,  has  its  tone,  not  in 
solidity,  but  in  that  which  is  directly  the  reverse  of 
this,  namely,  in  emptiness. 

Ceb.  Give  rule,  Socrates.  How  does  the  God  fault 
a  discourse  ? 

Soc.  He  turns  from  it,  Cebes,  as  not  finding  within 
it  that  which  satisfies.  But  give  heed,  and  may  the 
God  be  with  us  and  help  us  —  me,  to  unravel  and  ex- 
plain ;  you,  to  comprehend. 

7i 


72  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

We  start,  Cebes,  by  assuming  the  existence  —  as  a 
comprehensible  thing  —  of  a  creation,  secondary,  and, 
as  it  is  found  in  that  which  constitutes  its  life  and 
movements,  external  to  and  independent  of  any  im- 
mediate controlling  action  on  the  part  of  a  Creator. 
We  assume  this,  because  creation  discovers  to  the  un- 
derstanding two  materials,  principles,  or  entities,  and 
two  only.  The  physicist,  having  these  two,  finds  in 
them  everything  which  has  to  do  with  the  earth  as  it  is, 
and  with  the  phenomena  associated  with  its  life.  The 
entities  which  compose  the  creation,  are  Force  and 
Matter. 

Exclusion  discovers  a  third  entity  —  an  entity  ap- 
prehensible, but  only  negatively  comprehensible ;  an 
entity  which  this  same  exclusion  shows  to  have  neces- 
sarily preceded  Force  and  Matter,  and  out  of  which 
these  must  have  come.  Here,  Cebes,  is  the  "Idea" 
of  our  pupil  Plato,  and  here  is  the  "  Substance' ' — 
the  Noumenon  —  of  Spinoza.  No  learning,  no  explo- 
ration, no  anything,  ever  has  been  found  able  to  dis- 
cover Force  and  Matter  as  entities  of  self-creation. 

Ceb.  Was  it  not  Spinoza,  Socrates,  who  asserted  that 
in  a  single  entity  is  the  expression  of  all  phenomena  ? 
If  I  remember  rightly,  he  queried  somewhat  after  this 
manner.  In  the  beginning,  he  said,  was  God,  and  the 
God  was  the  all.  How  then  may  a  thing,  he  asked, 
even  the  God,  being  the  all  and  the  everything,  create 
out  of  itself  a  thing  unlike  itself? 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CE METER  Y.  73 

Soc.  It  was  the  question  of  a  profound  logician, 
Cebes,  and  it  unsettled  —  unfortunately,  and  to  the 
great  grief  of  the  sage  —  all  men  who  were  not  God- 
men.  But  have  you  not,  even  already,  answered  the 
matter  for  yourself?  Did  we  not  recognize  that  even 
a  man,  any  man,  might  do  this  which  the  Jew  denied 
even  the  power  of  the  God  to  do  ? 

Ceb.  I  understand,  Socrates.  You  do  not  say  that 
Spinoza  was  wrong,  but  that  he  erred  in  using  mortal 
eyes,  and  in  telling  of  what  he  saw  with  an  immortal 
tongue. 

Soc.  You  speak  yourself  with  a  poet's  tongue,  Cebes ; 
Anytus  himself  might  not  have  put  it  better ;  the  Jew 
did  indeed  forget  the  difference  between  his  own  ears 
and  the  ears  to  which  he  spoke.  But  carry  your 
memory  back  to  the  admission  you  made  in  assenting 
to  that  which  you  acknowledged  as  reconciling  the 
opposite  conclusions  of  the  objective  and  subjective 
schools  of  philosophy. 

Ceb.  In  showing  the  mistake  of  Protagoras  you  have 
shown  the  error  of  Spinoza.     I  am  answered,  Socrates. 

Soc.  Say  rather,  Cebes,  that  I  show  an  error  in  the 
putting  of  a  thing.  But  we  may  go  on.  Man  is  of  the 
earth,  earthy;  this,  necessarily,  because  of  his  consti- 
tution. He  may  be,  or  may  not  be,  of  the  God,  godly ; 
he  may  be  without  a  soul ;  he  may  differ  in  no  respect, 
except  in  capability,  from  a  brute  or  from  a  vegetable. 
7 


74  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

Ceb.  This  you  are  to  demonstrate. 

Soc.  This  I  am  to  demonstrate. 

Sim.  We  listen,  Socrates,  with  all  interest. 

Crito.  Socrates  would  have  us  physicists  as  well  as 
philosophers. 

Soc.  I  would  have  a  man  know  himself. 

Sim.  A  moment,  Socrates,  if  I  may  be  pardoned  the 
interruption.  It  was  one  of  these  moderns  in  much 
repute*  who,  in  contradistinction  to  what  you  hold, 
taught  his  countrymen  that  the  Soul  is  as  a  tabula  rasa, 
and  that  all  that  comes  to  it  comes  from  without  —  that 
in  the  infant  it  is  best  likened  to  a  sheet  of  white  paper. 
Do  you  say  that  this  is  error? 

Soc.  He  should  have  said  Mind,  Simmias,  and  then 
it  would  not  have  been  error. 

Ceb.  Simmias  emboldens  me  to  add  that  another  of 
not  less  characterf  likened  the  mind  to  a  block  of 
marble,  in  which  the  statue  is  prefigured  by  the  veins  in 
the  block,  and  that  thus  all  —  defect  or  beauty  —  is 
from  within,  and  that  nothing  is  from  without.  What 
of  this,  Socrates  ? 

Soc.  It  was  the  error  of  mistaking  Temperament  for 
Mind,  and  the  one  was  not  less  wrong  than  was  the 
other — a  sheet  is  not  the  table  on  which  it  lies.  But 
let  us  to  the  demonstration.     Shall  we  begin,  Cebes,  by 

*  Locke.  f  Leibnitz. 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  75 

asserting  that  man  is  an  Automaton,  and  thus  agree  with 
the  physicists  ? 

Ceb.  This,  if  so  be  it  pleases  you. 

Soc.  What  would  you  say  of  a  watch,  Cebes?  is  this 
also  an  automaton? 

Ceb.  Meaning  by  this,  just  what,  Socrates  ? 

Soc.  Meaning  that  it  is  a  machine,  which,  when  once 
set  going,  runs  the  length  of  its  spring  without  other 
direction. 

Ceb.  A  man  certainly  is  found  to  accomplish  his  func- 
tions through  a  motive  power  existing  within  himself. 

Soc.  A  watch  is  found  able  to  mark  the  hours  and 
minutes  and  seconds  of  a  day.  How  is  this,  Cebes? 
has  a  watch  intelligence? 

Ceb.  By  Jupiter,  Socrates,  you  call  a  smile  even  to 
the  face  of  Apollodorus.  How  can  a  machine  have 
intelligence  ?  Is  your  question  not  the  same  as  though 
you  had  asked  whether  or  not  a  watch  possesses  a  mind  ? 

Soc.  Yet,  Cebes,  let  a  man  question  his  watch  when 
he  will,  and  it  tells  him  the  time  of  day.  Can  anything 
aside  from  intelligence  tell  the  time  of  day? 

Ceb,  I  see  your  meaning,  Socrates ;  intelligence  alone 
may  tell  the  time  of  day.  Truly  here  is  a  paradox — a 
man  tells  himself  the  time  of  day,  yet  does  not  himself 
know  what  o'clock  it  is.  One's  own  intelligence  has 
to  speak  to  him  through  a  medium. 

Soc.  Can  an  ox  speak  the  time  of  day,  Cebes  ? 


?6  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

Ceb.  I  should  scarcely  like  to  trust  it  for  the  minutes 
and  seconds,  Socrates. 

Soc.  You  understand  me.  Man  is  a  machine ;  this, 
and  nothing  different.  Yet  is  there  found  within  him 
an  intelligence  which  is  to  him  what  the  time  of  day 
is  to  the  watch.  A  man  may  tell  another  who  looks 
upon  him  concerning  things  which  are  not  of  himself. 

Ceb.  But  all  watches  will  not  tell  the  time  of  day? 

Soc.  Well  suggested,  Cebes;  only  such  mark  the 
hours  as  bear  the  gift  of  speech. 

Ceb.  And  you  would  say,  Socrates,  that  a  man  may 
be  like  a  watch  that  runs  without  direction;  that  is, 
moving  his  hands  and  crying  his  tick-tack,  yet  be 
utterly  lacking  in  that  which  is  the  meaning  of  his 
capability  ? 

Soc.  There  is  no  difference  between  a  watch  and  a 
man  except  as  capability  for  office  is  concerned.  See, 
Cebes,  we  may  not  of  possibility  say  that  the  something 
which  tells  the  time  of  day  is  of  the  watch  proper,  for 
it  is  seen  that  at  times  a  watch  has  no  more  of  such 
direction  and  office  in  it  than  has  a  stick  or  stone,  yet 
at  other  times  the  meaning  of  the  office  is  back,  and 
we  trust  the  voice  even  for  the  passing  seconds.  If  an 
intelligence  be  found  at  times  in  a  thing,  and  then 
again  be  not  found  in  it,  can  we  say  that  the  intelli- 
gence is  the  thing,  or  that  the  thing  is  the  intelligence  ? 

Ceb.  By  Jupiter,  Socrates,  we  could  no  more  say  this 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  J  J 

than  could  we  say  that  a  man  is  the  house  in  which  he 
lives,  or  that  the  house  is  the  man. 

Soc.  Then  when  the  Time  of  Day  is  not  found  in  the 
watch  you  would  not  say  that  Time  of  Day  is  dead  ? 

Ceb.  Surely  this  might  not  be  said,  Socrates,  seeing 
that  watches  have  been  dead,  so  to  speak,  for  years, 
and  after  this  the  office  has  been  found  not  less  active 
than  ever. 

Soc.  Then  because  soul  is  not  found  in  a  body 
—  that  soul  which  is  the  capability  of  the  human,  as 
the  time  of  day  is  the  capability  of  the  watch  —  you 
may  not  assert  that  soul  is  dead? 

Ceb.   I  will  never  again  deny  that  soul  is  immortal. 

Soc.  And  what  concerning  its  independence  of  man  ? 
Will  you  deny  that  it  holds  different  relation  to  its 
temple  from  that  held  by  intelligence  to  the  watch  ? 

Ceb.  I  may  not  deny  this,  Socrates,  seeing  that  soul 
is  found  often  enough  absent  from  the  body. 

Soc.  As  when,  Cebes  ? 

Ceb.  As  when  it  is  not  present  with  any  of  tthese 
bodies  that  lie  beneath  the  tombstones. 

Soc.  A  sun-dial  tells  the  time  of  day;  how  is  this, 
Cebes  ? 

Ceb.  I  could  have  wished  the  illustration  completed, 
fearing  to  find  myself  led  from  that  which  has  been 
made  so  plain. 

Soc.  It  is  completed,  Cebes,  only  that  we  distinguish 
7* 


78  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

between  soul  and  mind  as  between  a  watch  and  dial ; 
the  latter  being,  indeed,  nothing  different  from  a  sheet 
of  white  paper,  which  receives  and  shows  that  which 
falls  upon  it. 

Ceb.  A  dial  is  only  a  surface.  Would  you  say, 
Socrates,  that  this  is  all  that  mind  is  ?  that  it  is  a  thing 
without  intelligence  in  itself? 

Soc.  I  would  say,  Cebes,  that  it  is  not,  in  itself,  a 
maker  of  anything. 

Ceb.  Is  a  man  of  genius,  Socrates,  not  something 
different,  as  mind  is  concerned,  from  a  common  man  ? 

Soc.  Assuredly.  But  why  do  you  not  as  well  ask 
whether  a  dial  of  exquisite  construction  and  markings 
differs  from  a  rude  board,  out  of  which  is  brought  the 
shadow  by  means  of  a  piece  of  stick  laid  across  it  ? 

Ceb.  You  would  say,  then,  that  genius  has  the  mean- 
ing of  an  accidental  refinement,  or  arrangement,  in  the 
disposition  of  parts? 

Soc.  I  understand  it  thus,  Cebes. 

Ce%.  These  moderns  say  that  Thought  is  a  function. 
What  is  the  meaning  of  this,  Socrates  ? 

Soc.  What  is  the  function  of  a  sun-dial,  Cebes  ? 

Ceb.  If  I  am  not  wrong,  the  function  of  a  dial  is  to 
show  a  shadow. 

Soc.  Does  a  dial  make  the  shadow  that  it  shows  ? 

Ceb.  How  might  this  be,  Socrates,  seeing  that  the 
shadow  is  a  something  external  to  it  ? 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  79 

Soc.  Yet  you  say,  that  to  show  a  shadow  is  the  func- 
tion of  the  dial  ? 

Ceb.  I  may  only  maintain  this. 

Soc.  Then  function  consists  in  a  giving  forth  of  that 
which  comes  to  an  organ  or  instrument? 

Ceb.  It  would  seem  to  be  as  you  say. 

Soc.  Whatever  the  quality  of  a  production,  are  we 
not  then  to  look  upon  it  as  of  like  signification  ?  that 
is,  as  a  something  received  and  given  back?  Heed, 
Cebes ;  may  Thought  be  else  than  a  something  which 
has  fallen  upon  a  sentient  dial  ?  Is  there  any  thought 
without  experience  ?  And  is  thought  not  seen  to  in- 
crease, enlarge,  and  intensify  itself  according  to  the 
scope  of  observation  enjoyed  by  a  man  ? 

Ceb.  But  you  would  have  us  believe  that  it  is  not 
thus  with  soul  ? 

Soc.  The  functionings  of  a  soul  are  from  within,  and 
of  itself,  consequently  the  outgivings  are  in  no  sense 
reflections.  Did  not  the  Christ  confound  the  doctors  ? 
From  whence,  Cebes,  were  the  arguments  used  by  the 
Christ-child  ?  Surely  they  were  not,  in  any  common 
sense,  experiences,  for  a  thousand  ordinary  experiences 
existed  with  the  elders  where  a  single  one  was  to  be 
found  with  the  younger ;  and  yet  Age  found  no  speech 
to  urge  against  Youth.  But  let  us  on ;  our  interruptions 
confuse  the  demonstration. 

A  man,  the  natural  man,  man  as  an  animal,  is  found, 


80  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

when  analyzed,  to  be  made  up  of  the  two  entities  to 
which  we  have  alluded — Matter  and  Force.  In  this  he 
is  seen  to  differ  in  no  single  respect  from  any  animal 
or  reptile  which  creeps  or  crawls  over  the  earth,  or 
from  any  tree  or  plant  that  flourishes  upon  its  surface : 
there  are  differences  in  the  arrangement  and  disposition 
of  particles,  but  this  is  all ;  the  matter  is  the  same,  the 
force  is  the  same,  and  the  matter  and  force  are  con- 
stantly shifting  and  changing  from  one  thing  to  another 
thing,  being  never  continuous  in  one  place  or  with  one 
individual. 

Ceb.  Pardon,  Socrates,  but  do  you  any  more  than 
assume  the  existence  of  these  entities,  Matter  and 
Force  ? 

Soc.  You  lose  memory,  Cebes.  We  assume  that 
these  exist  on  the  evidences  of  the  senses  which  per- 
ceive them.  This  has  already  been  explained,  and 
needs  no  further  argument.  Whether  these  are,  in 
reality,  things  subjective  or  things  objective,  makes, 
as  has  before  been  shown,  no  iota  of  difference.  They 
exist  to  the  uses  of  a  man  as  the  natural  man  knows 
himself  and  them,  and  man  must  accept  their  reality 
or  be  without  anything.  If  these  exist  not,  then  man 
exists  not. 

Matter  appeals  to  the  senses,  and  to  the  experiences 
of  the  senses,  as  being  an  insensible  material  of  which 
the  tangible  universe  is  composed. 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY,  8l 

Force  may  be  described,  after  the  same  judgment, 
as  an  energy  and  power,  insensible  in  itself;  being  not 
a  result  of  molecular  relation,  but  the  cause  of  atomic 
combinations ;  a  thing  in  itself,  as  Matter  is  a  thing  in 
itself. 

There  is  no  matter  without  its  quota  of  force :  for 
being  without  force,  matter  would  be  dead,  and  in  the 
world  there  is  no  such  a  thing  as  death.  Force,  then, 
is  that  vital  principle  which  is  the  Expression  of  life, 
and  in  which  resides  the  meaning  of  automatic  action. 
Has  this  not  been  well  put  by  our  pupil  Plato  ?  "  Two 
efficient  causes  are  there,  maintains  the  broad-headed, 
namely,  that  which  is  moved,  and  that  which  moves ; 
the  things  moved  are  the  receptacles  formed  by  the  ele- 
ments; that  which  moves  is  the  power  of  God ;  "  that 
is,  Cebes,  that  which  moves,  is  an  entity  which  is  re- 
lated to  the  world  somewhat  as  the  Time  of  Day  is  re- 
lated to  a  watch.     Do  you  comprehend  ? 

Ceb.  Perfectly. 

Soc.  Thus  it  is  that  Carneades  puts  it : 

"  Nature  did  make  me,  and  she  does  together  keep  me  still, 
But  still  the  time  will  come  when  she  will  pull  me  all  to  pieces." 

And  thus,  by  Aristotle :  Matter  is  moved  by  an  Entel- 
echy  residing  in  it,  this  being  the  cause  of  a  continu- 
ous movement  or  agitation  never  found  absent.     Thus, 

F 


82  TWO  THOUSAND   YEARS  AFTER, 

too,  by  a  modern :  *  All  things  earthy  are  composed  of 
monads.  A  monad  is  an  autarchic  automaton,  being 
made  up  of  force  and  matter.  Heed  still  another :  f 
There  exists,  says  this  one,  a  "  welt-seele,,,  and  this 
which,  in  the  language  of  the  metaphysician,  is  a  non- 
ego,  is  identical  with  the  Ego. 

Ceb.  Meaning,  this  latter,  what,  Socrates  ? 

Soc.  Meaning  the  same  as  the  Time  of  Day  of  the 
watch  —  a  something  which  is  not  self-existent,  but 
which  yet  is  independent. 

Ceb.  What  is  that,  Socrates,  which  Hegelianism 
teaches  ? 

Soc.  The  German,  Hegel,  whose  judgment  is  so  much 
valued  by  these  moderns,  teaches  —  and  teaches  wisely 
—  that  the  world  is  not  an  act,  but  an  eternal  move- 
ment; that  it  is  continually  creating  because  of  that 
which  is  the  force  of  matter.  So,  also,  avers  another, 
whose  experience  and  scope  of  outlook  render  his 
reflections  among  the  brightest  found  among  men.  J 
From  investigations,  says  this  observer,  carried  through 
all  the  domains  of  chemistry  and  physics,  we  may  only 
arrive  at  the  conclusion  that  nature  possesses  a  store  of 
force  which  cannot  in  any  way  be  either  increased  or 
diminished ;  and  that  therefore  the  quantity  of  force  in 
nature  is  just  as  eternal  and  unalterable  as  the  quantity 
of  matter.     Heed  an  example,  Cebes,  and  consider  a 

*  Leibnitz.  f  Schelling.  J  Helmholtz. 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  83 

jelly-fish.  Here  is  a  case  in  which  the  conjunction  of 
the  entities  we  consider  is  so  simple,  that  no  organs 
have  been  produced.  Yet  a  jelly-fish  eats  without  a 
mouth,  moves  about  without  limbs,  digests  without  a 
stomach,  nourishes  its  parts  without  vessels,  and  it  may 
be,  builds  for  itself  a  house  of  shell  which  no  testaceous 
animal  can  excel.  Is  there  not  here  demonstration  of 
life  as  it  exists  in  these  simples  ?  A  jelly-fish  is  little 
else  than  matter  and  force  made  visible. 

Yet  mark,  Cebes,  what  it  is  that  Pythagoras  asserts 
with  such  show  of  wisdom.  It  is  impossible,  says  the 
sage,  not  to  perceive  that  ulterior  to  phenomena  resides 
a  Directing  Power.     We  come  always  to  this,  my  friend. 

Ceb.  Does  not  this  modern  whom  men  call  Leibnitz, 
teach,  with  his  system  of  monads,  about  the  same  as 
was  held  by  the  master  Anaxagoras  with  his  homoeo- 
meriae. 

Soc.  Great  words,  Cebes,  with  simple  meanings. 
The  becoming  and  departing,  said  the  Master,  is  a 
doctrine  held  by  the  Greeks  without  foundation,  for 
nothing  can  ever  be  said  to  come  or  depart ;  but,  since 
existing  things  may  be  compounded  together  and  again 
divided,  we  should  name  the  becoming  more  correctly 
a  combination,  and  the  departing  a  separation.  Anax- 
agoras has  put  it  well,  Cebes,  and  so  also  has  Empe- 
docles:  "  Body  is  but  a  mingling,  and  then  a  separa- 
tion of  the  mingled.'*     See,  Cebes,  it  does  not  satisfy 


84  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

that  we  seek  for  the  origin  either  in  homceomerise  or 
in  the  monad.     There  is  a  Something  else. 

The  entity  which  exclusion  discovers  is  an  undeni- 
able something,  and  must  exist  everywhere ;  but,  in  the 
judgment  of  the  human,  what  is  the  entity  ?  and  where 
is  it?  He  was  a  wise  man  and  a  good  one,  him  whom 
they  yet  call  St.  Chrysostom ;  and  what  said  the  saint  ? 
"  Of  my  knowledge  I  do  know  that  there  is  a  God  who 
exists  everywhere  —  that  He  is  wholly  everywhere,  but 
the  how,  I  know  not ;  also,  that  He  is  without  begin- 
ning, ungenerated,  and  eternal;  but  the  how,  I  know 
not. '  '  And  what  was  that,  Cebes,  which  was  so  well 
queried  by  him  whom  they  name  the  "  Heavenly "?  * 
"To  say  what  God  is  not,  is  much  easier  than  to  say 
what  He  is." 

Ceb.  Yet  we  are  to  comprehend  the  God? 

Soc.  We  are  to  apprehend,  Cebes ;  that  is,  provided 
any  of  the  God  be  found  with  us :  and  if  we  be  not 
thus  endowed,  we  may  pass  to  that  plane  which  limits 
comprehension,  and  getting  thus  far  we  have  a  negative 
proof  in  that — through  the  process  of  exclusion — we 
know  there  is  something  else  even  though  we  be  with- 
out the  sense  which  allows  the  taking  hold  of  it. 

Ceb.  Let  us  deny  to  ourselves,  for  the  purpose  of  the 
demonstration,  that  we  possess  any  other  lore  than  that 
of  the  animal  senses,  for  the  other  sense,  having  its 

*  Augustine. 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  85 

knowledge  in  itself,  needs  nothing  to  its  understanding. 
Let  us  proceed,  Socrates,  that  we  may  understand  how 
man  as  man  is  capable  of  knowing  himself,  for  I  doubt 
me  but  that  Phsedo,  who  holds  his  tongue  so  demurely, 
is  anxious  enough  to  find  out  what  is  the  pertinence  of 
that  exclusion  which  marks  the  line  between  God-men 
and  the  brutes. 

Soc.  You  hold  me  well  and  wisely  to  the  point, 
Cebes.  It  is  our  idea  to  understand  what  is  the  mean- 
ing, and  where  the  end,  of  scientific  inquiry. 

I  think,  Cebes,  we  well  understand  that  a  man  may 
not  differ  from  a  stone,  vegetable,  or  brute,  save  as  it  is 
the  case  that  he  has  found  with  him  some  material  or 
substance  or  thing  not  found  in  the  other. 

Ceb.  This  was  agreed  to. 

Soc.  And  we  pronounced  this  something  the  quality 
of  Apprehension  ? 

Ceb.  This  is  what  we  called  it. 

Soc.  Do  the  senses,  Cebes,  perceive  as  existing  in 
creation  any  thing  beside  force  and  matter  ? 

Ceb.  Why  not  many  things  ? 

Soc.  Give  it  name,  Cebes ;  what,  for  example  ? 

Ceb.  I  am  not  clear,  Socrates,  but  that  mind  is  a 
something  different  from  either  of  the  entities  you 
name. 

Soc.  Will  you  retract,  then,  and  say  that  mind  is  the 
same  as  soul  ? 
8 


86  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

Ceb.  This  I  perceive  I  may  not  do  without  admit- 
ting an  immortal  individuality  for  men  who  have  no 
showing  of  the  God  in  them,  and  as  well  would  I  have 
to  carry  to  Hades,  brutes  and  vegetables. 

Soc.  But  why  not  admit  the  one,  and  carry  the  other? 
Why  should  not  all  men  be  immortal  ? 

Ceb.  I  am  at  no  loss  in  understanding  that  this  might 
not  be,  seeing  that  a  thing  cannot  be  unlike  itself. 

Soc.  Give  it  name,  then,  Cebes ;  for  if  mind  be  not 
a  thing  residing  in  force  and  matter,  and  if  it  be  not 
of  the  God,  then  we  have  a  great  discovery  before  us. 

Ceb.  Explain  me  this,  Socrates:  How  can  a  thing 
that  reasons  be  alike  with  a  thing  that  does  nothing 
but  reflect  that  which  falls  upon  it  ? 

Soc.  If  you  insist  on  an  answer,  Cebes,  you  must  let 
me  go  on  after  my  own  fashion.  I  doubt  not  that  ere 
long  we  shall  come  to  the  place  of  a  reply. 

A  man  is  an  organized  body  ;  a  brute  is  an  organized 
body ;  vegetables  are  organized  bodies ;  men,  brutes, 
and  vegetables  have  thus  existence  and  function  in 
one  and  the  same  law.  A  stone  differs  from  a  vegetable 
only  as  a  brute  differs  from  a  man,  i.  e. ,  in  being  of  a 
lower  and  of  a  subservient  intention.  A  man  may, 
and  does,  live  and  thrive  on  stones,  but  he  may  do  so 
only  indirectly.  It  is  for  the  plant  to  take  into  itself, 
and  to  digest,  the  stone :  it  is  for  the  ox,  with  his 
several  stomachs,  to  convert  many  plants  into  a  con- 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  87 

centrated  meat,  which  is  the  pabulum  for  man  —  thus 
soil,  plants,  and  brutes,  necessarily  precede  man,  and 
are  as  almoners  to  him. 

Man,  of  his  organic  nature,  may  act  in  organic  re- 
lations not  more  intelligently  than  do  vegetables ;  he 
may  accomplish  his  functions,  and  coordinate  his  move- 
ments, and,  as  such  actions  are  concerned,  one  man 
may  not  be  seen  to  differ  from  another ;  albeit,  between 
any  two  taken  as  examples  there  may  be  the  difference 
of  that  which  renders  the  one  mortal,  the  other  im- 
mortal; or,  the  immortal  principle,  differing  in  its 
relation  with  a  human  body,  even  as  do  force  and 
matter,  may  be  found  to  exist  in  a  varying  quota :  for 
even  as  it  is  seen  of  one  body  that  it  possesses  much 
matter,  of  another  little  ;  of  one  that  it  is  overflowing 
with  vitality,  of  another  that  it  is  sinking  from  lack 
of  it  —  so  one  man  will  be  found  God-like  all  the  way 
through,  his  fellow  shall  show  nothing  at  all  of  the 
Divine. 

Heed,  Cebes,  here  is  a  beautiful  passage  from  the 
book  of  the  Soofees  :  "  You  say,"  says  the  book,  "  the 
sea  and  waves,  but  in  that  remark  you  do  not  believe 
that  you  signify  distinct  objects,  for  the  sea,  when  it 
heaves,  produces  waves,  and  the  waves,  when  they 
settle  down  again,  become  the  sea :  in  the  same  manner 
men  —  the  souls  of  men  —  are  the  waves  of  God.  Or, 
you  trace  with  ink  upon  paper  certain  letters,  but  these 


88  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

letters  are  not  distinct  from  the  ink  which  enabled  you 
to  write  them ;  in  the  same  manner  the  creation  is  the 
alphabet  of  God,  and  is  lost  in  Him.  - 9 

Organic  life,  Cebes,  is  unfilled  form  —  is  a  letter 
drawn  with  an  inkless  pen  ;  a  letter  drawn  is  not  less  a 
letter  made  because  that  it  is  without  color ;  a  man  is 
not  less  a  physical  man  in  that  he  is  without  a  soul ; 
for  even  as  the  ink  is  not  the  form  of  the  letter,  so  soul 
would  not  seem  to  be  a  necessary  attribute  of  humanity. 

Soul  is,  in  a  sense,  a  correlative  thing ;  changing, 
however,  never  into  anything  else,  being  one  from  the 
beginning  unto  the  end,  which  beginning  discovers  to 
us  no  origin,  which  end,  it  would  seem,  is  never  to 
come. 

Idiots  and  fools,  say  the  Egyptians,  are  those  whose 
souls  are  in  heaven,  while  their  grosser  parts  walk  about 
the  earth. 

A  saint,  affirms  the  Mussulman,  is  not  to  be  con- 
demned,  as   are   other  men,   for  the  commission  of 
bodily  sin,  for  his  soul  being  absorbed  in  the  contem- 
plation of  the  Divine,  the  bodily  passions  are  without   ,. 
other  directions  than  the  instincts. 

This  it  is,  Cebes,  that  the  Dervish  holds.  There  is 
but  one  God,  the  creator  of  the  world.  When  God 
made  man,  He  was  pleased  to  give  him  something 
which  He  did  not  give  to  any  other  of  his  creatures. 
God  was  pleased  to  gift  man  with  an  existence  like  his 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  89 

own,  which  will  not  only  live  in  the  present  life,  but 

will  continue  to  exist  hereafter  in  another This 

peculiar  part  of  man's  existence  is  his  soul.  The 
peculiar  character  of  this  existence  is  such  as  to  lead  to 
the  conviction  that  it  is  more  than  human,  and  must, 
therefore,  be  Divine ;  the  origin  of  this  soul  is  due  to 
a  direct  emanation  from  the  Deity ;  and  differs  from 
the  ordinary  breath  of  life,  which  all  other  animated 
nature  received  on  its  creation.* 

Action  in  a  man  is  of  twofold  signification  ;  it  may 
have  relation  exclusively  with  what  is  known  as  reflex 
movement  —  automatic  action  —  that  is,  an  instrument 
of  sensation  being  touched,  as  though  it  might  be  a 
spring,  expression  is  conveyed  to  a  second  element, 
which  in  its  turn  acts  upon  others,  and  these  still  in 
turn  upon  others,  until  the  most  complex  results  may 
be  seen  to  accrue.  Yet  all  these  actions  have  a  mean- 
ing but  little  different  from  the  tones  which  are  given 
forth  by  a  violin  or  flute. 

Now  let  us  come  to  the  reply.  Mind  is  an  auto- 
matic or  reflective  ability,  residing,  in  varying  degrees, 
in  all  organized  bodies.  And  what  is  termed  Reason 
is  this  same  ability  in  working  action.  Let  these  asser- 
tions find  illustration  in  an  experiment  common  with 
these  modern  physiologists.  If  a  frog  be  decapitated, 
and  an  irritant  applied  to  one  of  its  hind  feet,  the  leg 

*  History  of  the  Dervishes. 
8* 


90  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

is  withdrawn;  let  the  irritant  be  increased,  and  both 
limbs  are  flexed ;  still  increased,  all  the  limbs  are  moved, 
the  frog  jumping  away.  Let  now  be  applied  an  irritant 
to  the  inner  part  of  the  thigh,  and  the  foot  of  the 
opposite  leg  is  used  in  effort  to  remove  the  offence. 
Next  let  the  foot  be  cut  from  the  limb,  and,  after  a 
moment  of  apparent  reflection,  the  knee  is  moved  up 
so  as  to  rub  the  part  worried. 

The  reasoning  powers  of  a  man  may  as  certainly  be 
independent  of  a  soul,  and  not  be  a  thing  in  itself,  as 
in  brutes  what  is  called  intelligence  is  not  necessarily 
of  the  immortal  principle.  Which  of  two  musicians, 
the  one  being  in  practice  the  other  out,  shall  be 
found  to  discourse  the  finer  music?  And  is  it  not 
seen  to  be  the  case  that  the  best  performer  accom- 
plishes his  manipulations  with  least  premeditation  or 
effort?  Do  not  the  fingers  cover  the  stops,  or  touch 
the  keys,  with  an  unconscious  and  unpremeditated 
accuracy?  Here,  indeed,  would  what  is  esteemed 
commonly  as  reasoning  scarcely  appear  to  be  employed 
— fingers  move  quicker  than  what  is  called  thought. 
It  would  seem  to  be  an  excito-motor  result,  purely 
and  simply;  and  this,  in  truth,  it  is.  Thus  we  find 
ourselves  led  to  maintain  that  thought  —  reason  —  is 
only  reflection ;  or,  to  put  it  in  other  words,  that  it  is 
response  to  external  impressions. 

Education    is    the   cultivation   of    the    excitability 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  9 1 

residing  in  matter :  the  schoolboy,  with  plodding  care, 
toils  through  the  stanzas  of  a  page,  the  alphabet  being 
called  into  requisition  with  almost  every  word ;  the 
accomplished  reader  gets  the  sense,  yet  pronounces  — 
if  reading  to  himself — never  a  syllable.  The  two 
differ  alone  in  that  the  one  person  possesses  unculti- 
vated natural  powers  or  offices ;  the  other  has  a  cere- 
brospinal centre,  or  reflecting  surface,  so  acutely 
responsive,  that  the  slightest  possible  impression  is 
equivalent  to  a  result. 

Man,  as  an  animal,  would  seem  to  be  of  higher 
organization  than  the  brute  only  as  the  brute  is  of 
higher  organization  than  the  vegetable,  the  vegetable 
than  the  stone ;  that  is,  as  he  is  found  to  be  possessed 
of  refinement  in  attributes.  Great  parts  in  men  have 
alone  the  signification  of  accidental  molecular  disposi- 
tion— some  men  have  voice  with  which  they  sing,  other 
men  are  entirely  without  voice,  being  dumb ;  so  there 
are  birds  which  sing  and  birds  which  may  not  sing; 
mice  even  are  there  which  chirp  in  their  nooks  and 
crannies,  teaching  the  lesson  of  a  oneness  in  nature. 
The  man  of  genius  is  not  great  through  his  soul,  but  he 
comes  to  be  marked  as  eminent  among  his  fellows 
because  it  has  happened  that  accident  endowed  him 
with  peculiar  sensibility  on  some  aspect  of  the  common 
reflecting  surface  of  the  nervous  mass.  He  is,  indeed, 
like  the  sensitized  plate  of  the  picture-maker,  and  the 


92  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

one  receives  and  shows  forth  images  not  more  naturally 
and  readily  than  does  the  other.  Is  not  genius  allied 
with  disease,  inasmuch  as  it  is  an  abnormal  condition? 
And  has  not  a  Genius  more  occasion  for  medicine  than 
for  gratulations?  He  who  knows  the  meaning  of  ge- 
nius, Cebes,  pities  the  possessor,  for  in  what  is  esteemed 
the  gift  is  much  suffering.  A  Genius  reflects  as  naturally, 
and,  in  a  sense,  as  unconsciously,  as  does  a  looking- 
glass  hung  out  in  face  of  the  sun.  Unmistakably  is  it 
the  case,  that  a  man  may  talk  well,  write  well,  do  well 
a  multitude  of  things,  and  yet  do  all  that  he  does  in 
the  law  of  his  organic  relations,  differing  only,  in  the 
degree  of  his  accomplishments,  from  the  least  impres- 
sible and  most  stupid  either  of  men,  lower  animals,  or 
vegetables.  Soul,  on  the  other  hand,  is  an  attribute 
which  has  pertaining  to  it  associations  higher  and 
loftier  than  the  things  of  colleges  and  books,  and  sen- 
sitive cerebrospinal  surfaces.  As  it  enlarges  in  a  man, 
so  it  is  found  to  speak  words  and  act  actions  of  its  own ; 
and  thus  it  is  that  the  uneducated  Gallilean  unfolded 
life-lessons  before  which  the  learning  and  judgment  of 
the  world  stands  dumb ;  thus  it  is  that  fishermen  leave 
their  nets  and  write  books  which  universities  reverence 
as  models  in  philosophy;  thus  it  is  that  a  Cyrus 
understands  his  own  immortality,  and  that  a  Cicero 
finds  in  old  age  anticipations  more  pleasurable  than 
even  those  begotten  of  the  most  exquisite  senses  of 
youth, 


OR  A  TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  93 

It  is  through  the  Genius  alone,  Cebes,  that  men  are 
enabled  to  understand  of  the  riches  and  capability  of 
nature;  great  poems,  great  designs,  great  every  things 
are  in  the  way  alike  of  every  human  brain,  just  as 
human  faces  fall  alike  against  unsensitized  and  sensitized 
plates,  and  yet  are  seen  to  show  themselves  alone  from 
the  latter;  the  great  things  of  the  world  are  of  the 
world,  and  not  at  all  of  the  surface  that  reflects  and 
shows  them.  A  looking-glass  will  show  a  castle,  but 
who  thinks  to  credit  the  mirror  as  the  maker  and  pro- 
ducer of  that  which  it  exhibits  ?  Ah,  Cebes,  the  glory 
and  harmony  that  are  about  us !  how  little  should  we 
know  of  these  without  the  Genius  ! 

Ceb.  What,  if  you  be  wrong  in  all  this,  Socrates  ? 

Soc.  Answer  me,  my  friend.  Is  the  image  shown  us 
by  the  picture-maker  a  something  that  had  residence 
in  his  plate  ? 

Ceb.  No  man  would  assert  this. 

Soc.  Whence  then  is  it?  for  surely  it  is  not  seen 
when  the  eyes  are  turned  away  from  the  plate  ? 

Ceb.  Truly,  Socrates,  it  is  a  reflection  caught  from  a 
something  external  to  it. 

Soc.  The  image  is  not,  then,  a  production  of  the 
plate  ? 

Ceb.  This  might  not  be  the  case,  seeing  that  with 
like  facility  it  would  have  shown  a  horse  or  a  house. 

Soc.   Neither  any  more  are  pictures  the  productions 


94  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

of  the  painters,  verses  the  compositions  of  the  poets, 
or  beautiful  designs  the  creations  of  the  architects. 

Ceb.  You  would  say,  then,  that  men  are  born  to 
different  offices  ?  speaking  of  men  as  one  speaks  of 
machines. 

Soc.  Men  say  this  for  themselves,  Cebes.  A  man  may 
polish  and  keep  bright,  but  he  does  not  arrange  his 
brain  \  therefore,  may  he  not  of  possibility  show  that 
which  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  his  surface  to  reflect. 
A  man  may  do  nothing  different  from  that  which  he 
finds  within  him  the  ability  to  do.  Carbon  arranged 
as  a  surface  of  charcoal  cannot  flash  back  a  sun-ray  as 
when  it  finds  its  composition  after  the  order  of  a 
diamond. 

Ceb.  Does  not  this  conflict,  Socrates,  with  that 
famous  parable  of  the  talents  which  these  moderns  so 
continuously  use  as  a  lesson  ? 

Soc.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  one  truth  endorsing 
another  truth.  To  whom  much  is  given,  from  him 
much  is  expected ;  and  to  whom  little  is  given,  from 
him  little  is  required.  Is  it  not  thus  that  men  them- 
selves consider  machines,  Cebes?  Bright  or  dull,  a 
surface  is  not  to  be  allowed  to  decrease  in  its  reflecting 
power,  for  according  to  the  polish,  so  is  the  reflection. 
A  dull  face  may  be  made  brighter,  and  a  bright  face 
may  be  made  brighter  still. 

Ceb.  But  how  may  a  man  polish  and  keep  bright 
such  a  thing  as  an  internal  surface  ? 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  95 

Soc.  He  is  to  do  it  as  he  does  with  the  instrument 
which  is  kept  from  going  to  rust  through  much  hand- 
ling. Heed,  Cebes ;  when  a  man  suffers  this  surface  to 
become  dull,  not  only  does  he  cease  to  give  forth  any- 
thing, but  he  becomes  himself  incapable  of  receiving 
anything.  Many  men  are  little  different  from  mollusk 
or  sponge. 

Ceb.  You  esteem,  Socrates,  that  you  have  given  us 
good  and  all-sufficient  reasons  for  the  faith  in  which 
you  yourself  seem  so  firmly  rooted  concerning  this 
mechanical  explanation  of  mind,  and  its  entire  sepa- 
rability from  soul  ? 

Soc.  Analyze  for  yourself,  Cebes,  and  if  the  subject 
appeal  to  you  in  any  different  manner,  decide  against 
me.  For  myself,  what  I  have  said,  I  believe;  and 
this  for  the  reason  that,  twist  and  turn  this  surface  as  I 
will,  it  shows  me  nothing  different. 

Ceb.  You  believe,  then,  necessarily,  that  in  the  de- 
struction of  the  surface  that  reflects,  that  which  is  its 
function  is  destroyed  also? 

Soc.  Not  more  truly  than  do  I  believe  in  the  nothing- 
ness of  a  shadow,  when  the  dial  is  not  in  place  to 
make  one.  But  heed,  Cebes,  the  reflecting  surface,  as 
it  is  seen,  is  used  by  the  soul,  just  as  eyes  and  ears  are 
employed  by  it  as  instruments.  When  the  God  speaks 
through  men,  he  must  use  the  language  which  men  un- 
derstand.    And  why  shall  He  not  make  such  markings 


96  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

on  the  dial  as  suits  His  purpose,  and  thus  show  forth 
Himself  in  the  heart,  as  it  were  ?  What  shall  the  soul 
which  resides  in  a  man  use  as  its  instruments  of  action, 
if  not  these  very  senses  which  we  perceive  as  the  caterers 
to  bodily  offices  ?  Heed,  again,  Cebes ;  what  was  that 
breathed  by  the  God  into  the  nostrils  of  the  clay- 
formed  human  ?  Shall  we  deny  that  this  was  the  soul  ? 
Or  shall  we  say  that  it  was  the  something  which  must 
be  so  intimately  allied  with  this,  and  which,  for  want 
of  better  name,  we  have  called  the  Capability  ? 

Ceb.  But  if  the  soul  use  as  instruments  the  senses 
of  the  organism,  how  may  it  be  otherwise,  Socrates, 
than  that  thus  the  God  is  recognizable  by  these  senses  ? 

Soc.  Whist,  Cebes;  the  horse  no  doubt  speculates 
over  the  master  that  drives  him,  but  think  you  that  a 
horse  can  measure  a  man  ?  Yet  what  of  all  this  ?  Is 
it  not  enough  to  have  discovered  that  we  possess  Capa- 
bility, and  that  this  has  for  a  man  all  the*  meaning  of  a 
soul  ?  Is  this  very  different  from  discovering  and  un- 
derstanding that  all  men  have  souls  ?  See,  my  friend, 
it  is  for  a  man  to  cultivate  his  Capability,  or  to  deny  it, 
as  he  wills :  the  God  knocks  continuously  at  the  door 
of  the  heart,  seeking  to  come,  even  Himself,  to  wider 
expression;  seeking  to  get  more  of  Himself  into  the 
world ;  urging  his  right  to  the  temples  He  has  built. 
If  a  man  will  not  open  the  door,  then  he  remains,  of 
necessity,  dual  in  his  nature,  and  the  fulness  of  his 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY,  g? 

meaning  continues  in  that  which  constitutes  duality. 
And  see,  Cebes,  what  an  expression  is  this  of  free- 
agency  ?  And  what  an  explanation  of  that  consoling 
passage,  "  that  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  within  a  man." 
Surely,  where  the  God  is,  there  is  heaven.  A  man 
needs  but  to  open  his  own  gates  that  he  find  himself  at 
once  in  paradise.  One  needs  not  to  wonder  and  specu- 
late as  regards  the  location  of  the  city  that  is  called 
golden ;  the  brightest  spot  in  the  kingdom  of  the  blessed 
has  been  found  amid  the  filth  of  a  noisome  prison  cell. 
The  man  who  understands  not  that  the  kingdom  of  the 
God  is  everywhere,  may  take  to  himself  the  conviction 
that  he  has  not  within  him  the  sense  of  Godliness.  A 
man  gets  farther  and  farther  into  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  as  the  God  gets  farther  and  farther  into  the 
man. 

Seb.  Heed,  Socrates.  What,  by  such  showing,  be- 
come of  the  transgressions  of  men  ?  Is  there  no  pun- 
ishment for  sin  ? 

Soc.  You  ask  a  question,  Cebes,  that  belongs  alone 
to  the  very  ignorant.  If  you  would  find  out  for  your- 
self, try  transgression,  and  if  you  get  not  punishment 
enough,  come  back  with  other  question. 

Ceb.  Pardon,  Socrates,  but  a  multitude  of  men  sin, 

and  then  glory  and  pride  and  pleasure  themselves  in 

'the  offences,   seeming  to  find  little  punishment  that 

worries  them. 

9  G 


98  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

Soc.  Foolish  Cebes,  not  yet  to  have  grasped  the 
meaning  of  suffering  by  negation.  Such  men,  my 
friend,  are  the  most  unenviable  and  myopic  of  mortals — 
they  hug  to  their  breasts  bundles  of  thorns  in  an  entire 
obliviousness  to  the  existence  of  boquets  of  fragrant 
roses ;  such  are  as  swine,  whose  dish  is  a  trough,  and 
whose  nourishment  deadens  while  it  fattens.  Oh,  Cebes ! 
that  you,  of  all  the  children  of  men,  should  ask  such 
questions ;  and  this,  while  every  grave,  and  every  house, 
and  every  street,  swarm  with  their  multitude  of  answers — 
hell  in  so  many  places,  and  only  heaven  in  so  few  — 
the  Kingdom  that  is  everywhere  negated  by  the  Tartarus 
that  is  nowhere  but  in  a  man's  own  heart  —  not  even 
enough  consciousness  left  to  evoke  a  cry  for  the  chances 
of  the  Acherusian  lake.  Whist,  Cebes;  some  men 
love,  and  some  men  think  they  love  —  what  is  the 
difference  ? 

Ceb.  I  am  well  corrected,  Socrates.  But  are  you  to 
be  understood  as  maintaining  that  the  Deus  Mundi  is 
nothing  different  from  that  Godliness  which  resides 
with  a  God-man  ? 

Soc.  Things  dissimilar  in  appearance  and  in  ap- 
parent nature  may  be  of  like  constitution.  Ice  is 
water,  Cebes,  but  water  is  not  ice.  Aquosity  is 
hydrogen  and  oxygen,  but  these  gases  are  not  aquosity. 
Soul  is  force,  but  Force  is  not  soul. 

Ceb.  But,  it  is  natural  to  query :  If  all  soul  be  a  com- 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  99 

mon  soul,  how  may  distinction  exist  between  the  whole 
and  a  part  ?  Where  is  God  ?  the  individual  God  ?  and 
where  is  man  —  the  man  that  apprehension  teaches  as 
being  possessed  of  individual  immortality  ? 

Soc.  One,  being  seated  by  the  side  of  the  great  Nile, 
did  scoop  up  in  his  palm  that  which  contained  in  each 
drop  all  that  makes  the  water  —  yet  did  the  river  run 
on  as  calmly,  and  grandly,  and  as  individually  as 
ever. 

Ceb.  And  the  palmful  evaporated,  and  found  its 
way  back  into  the  stream  ? 

Soc.  Yes,  Cebes,  found  its  way  back  into  that  it  was, 
and  no  man  might  distinguish  that  portion  which 
answered  the  purpose  of  an  illustration. 

" As  one  body  seems  the  aggregate 

Of  atoms  numberless,  each  organized, 
So,  by  a  strange  and  dim  similitude, 
Infinite  myriads  of  self-conscious  minds 
In  one  containing  Spirit  live,  who  fills 
With  absolute  ubiquity  of  thought 
All  his  involved  monads,  that  yet  seem 
Each  to  pursue  its  own  self-centring  end." 

From  the  scientific  standpoint,  no  particle  of  con- 
fusion would  seem  to  exist  in  viewing  as  in  inseparable 
conjunction  the  all  soul  and  the  individual  souls  of 
men :  for,  as  to  unthinking  people,  fathers  and  sons  ap- 
pear like  distinct  individualities,  yet  does  the  physicist 


100  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

know  that  such  separation  is  but  conventional :  for  how 
might  it  be  but  that  all  men  are  in  that  from  whence 
man  had  origin  — ■  that  "  I  and  my  Father  are  one ' '  ? 

Ceb.  But  a  son,  it  may  be  said,  returns  not  into  his 
father. 

Soc.  A  narrow  and  most  gratuitous  assertion.  Is  not 
the  father  in  his  time  a  son  ?  and  does  he  not  in  turn 
go  the  way  whence  he  came ;  and  goes  not  each  son  in 
a  self-same  way,  forever  —  coming  from,  going  back, 
into  that  which  is  the  origin? 

.  Ceb.  But  the  attributes  of  God,  it  is  to  be  suggested, 
are  justice  and  mercy  and  long  endurance ;  and  men, 
the  best  of  men,  are  found,  too  often,  unjust,  pitiless, 
and  impatient. 

Soc.  So,  also,  it  is  that  other  water  which  one  has 
from  the  river  is  found  putrid  and  filthy,  yet  we  may 
not  deny  its  origin,  nor  that  whereof  it  is.  So,  also, 
the  brine  which  comes  in  from  the  sea  is  found  saltless 
in  the  streams  of  distant  meadow  lands ;  and  yet  these 
are  not  two  waters. 

Ceb.  But  man  is  insignificant,  and  God  is  All- 
mighty ! 

Soc.  Yes;  so  also  the  Nile  which  was  held  in  the 
palm,  evaporated,  and  quickly  disappeared.  Yet  the 
great  current  flows  on  forever,  and  deluges  Egypt. 

Ceb.  But  how,  Socrates,  is  to  be  explained  the  indi- 
viduality of  a  human  soul,  if  it  is  to  be  esteemed  as  not 
a  thing  in  itself? 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  101 

Soc.  Are  not  the  individualities  of  children  as 
entities,  and  yet  is  it  to  be  denied  that  parent  and 
child  are  one? 

So,  also,  is  it  not  the  case  that  centre  and  circum- 
ference are  one,  for  may  it  be  that  the  former  can  exist 
without  the  latter  ?  Yet  is  a  centre  a  point  so  minute 
that  human  eye  has  never  beheld  it ;  while  a  circum- 
ference may  be  so  expansive  that  it  shall  girdle  the 
world. 

Ceb.  But  all  this  is  a  judgment  of  soul  formed  and 
based  on  a  knowledge  of  matter. 

Soc.  Yes,  so  it  is  premised  to  be.  It  is  judgment  by 
exclusion  —  it  is  comprehension;  yet  is  it  found  to 
correspond,  so  far  as  it  goes,  with  the  definitions  of  ap- 
prehension. Matter  is  matter,  and  it  is  seen  to  be  for- 
ever in  a  state  of  transmigration ;  being  to-day  of  this 
body,  to-morrow  of  that.  Yet  does  the  physicist  find 
it  made  up  of  elementary  particles,  which  particles  are 
eternal  and  indestructible  in  their  individuality,  never 
being  lost  to  themselves.  Here,  in  even  so  crude  a 
thing  as  matter,  are  we  able  to  illustrate  numberless 
individualities  residing  in  an  oneness. 

Ceb.  But  God  is  all  knowledge.  If,  then,  God  and 
the  soul  of  man  be  one,  man,  it  would  certainly  seem, 
should  have  the  secret  by  which  He  created  the  earth 
and  the  sky ;  and  he  should  be  able  to  tell  unto  him- 
self  the  wherefore  and  the  whereof  of  life  and  of  action. 
9* 


102  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

Soc.  Excellently  put,  Cebes;  you  surpass  yourself. 
Yet  let  an  answer  be  found  in  the  confusions  of  Ly- 
sander,  who,  on  his  life,  can  tell  nothing  of  such  simple 
matters  as  the  muscles  and  tendons  which  move  the 
limbs  of  the  child  he  created.  He  did  also  construct 
the  eye,  and  what  eye  is  so  tell-tale  as  that  of  the  boy 
Zapater  ?  Yet  has  no  one  ever  judged  Lysander  as  an 
optician,  and,  indeed,  he  might  not  tell  how  many 
humors  he  did  put  into  the  orb ;  and  of  that  complex 
thing,  the  retina  gangliformis,  he  knows  certainly  not 
so  much  as  the  name.  Yet  it  is  not  to  be  denied  that 
from  his  creating  power  did  all  these  things  come. 

Ceb.  Go  on,  Socrates. 

Soc.  If,  now,  these  conclusions  of  comprehension  are 
not  to  be  overthrown  by  the  higher  wisdom  of  appre- 
hension, it  would  seem  to  be  with  Soul  as  it  is  with 
Matter  and  Force — free  is  the  one  as  are  the  others. 
Soul  is  that  "  Essential  Form  M  as  understood  by  Plato, 
to  possess  which  is  to  have  all  good.  He  who  gathers 
of  it  becomes,  in  proportion  to  the  gathering,  Godlike : 
he  who  denies  and  rejects  the  good,  fails  and  shrinks, 
and  withers  away  even  as  does  he  who  refuses  to  take 
to  the  matter  of  his  body  air  and  sunshine. 

It  can  only  be  that  God  is  immortal  life,  and  thus  is 
it  happy  provision  that  it  seems  to  pertain  to  a  man's 
self,  as  to  what  extent  immortality  is  to  be  enjoyed  by 
him.     Let  man  die — for  so  he  would  seem  to  be  able  to 


OR  A   TALK  IN  A  CEMETERY.  IO3 

die — if  he  so  wills,  as  a  brute  dies ;  he  who  so  departs, 
carries  with  him  nothing  of  the  immortal ;  somebody 
else  enjoys  his  share.  It  is  with  soul,  Cebes,  as  with 
gold  ;  common  property  is  it,  yet  it  is  seen  that  some 
men  so  strive,  and  so  do  continuous  battles  for  gold, 
that  they  may  be  esteemed  as  having  converted  them- 
selves into  statues  of  this  metal ;  others,  they  who  battle 
not,  go  down  to  their  graves  without  even  so  much  of 
coin  as  shall  suffice  to  pay  for  the  nails  which  hold  the 
coffin-boards  together. 

It  is  to  be  comprehended  that  it  is  with  God  —  the 
All  Soul  —  as  it  is  with  the  sun.  Day  after  day,  through 
all  the  generations  of  man,  has  this  great  mystery  been 
seen  in  the  sky :  yet  what  child  but  knows  that  in  it  is 
the  color  of  the  leaf;  the  absence  of  the  darkness 
which  its  presence  negates ;  the  organic  life  of  every- 
thing that  lives  on  earth?  yet,  that  of  itself  it  grows 
never  less.  And  this  sun  is,  in  seeming,  something  dis- 
tinct, and  has  an  apparent  separation  of  millions  of 
miles  from  that  which  is  itself.  Wonderful  condition  ! 
that  man  has  a  God  and  Father,  yet  is  himself  God 
and  Father.  Wonderful !  that  a  little  flower  should 
have  its  beauty  by  reason  of  sunshine  that  is  a  part  of  ■ 
it,  yet  that  the  sun  is  a  great  planet  far  away  in  the 
sky. 

In  proportion,  Cebes,  as   a   man  is  Godly,  so  of 
necessity  does  he  grow  in   apprehension.     Mysteries 


104  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER, 

there  are  which  it  is  difficult  to  comprehend,  yet  which 
are  easy  of  apprehension.     Is  it  not  felt  of  every  man 
who  aspires  to  work  and  to  live  nobly,  that  such  work 
and  life  are  found  to  lie  in,  and  yet  to  be  without  him- 
self? herein  being,  indeed,  one  of  the  many  negative 
proofs  of  an  immortal  individual  principle.     Is  not  the 
negation  of  the  man,  with  his  passions,  his  weaknesses, 
and  his  fallacies,  a  necessity,  that  one  may  gain  lofty 
ends  ?     Does  not  that  eagle  fly  highest  which  has  the 
cleanest  wings  ?    Runs  not  slowest  that  animal  whose 
limbs  are  most  mud  be-draggled  ?     To  apprehend,  is 
to   know,   without    comprehending.      Does   not   that 
ignorance  —  of  man's  knowledge  —  which  bows  before 
the  shrine  apprehend,  yet  what  comprehends  it  of  the 
Omnipotence  that  is  worshipped.    May  a  mouse  compre- 
hend an  elephant  which  is  only  itself  enlarged  ?    Or 
may  the  gnat  comprehend  wherein  its  wings  differ  from 
those  of  the  ostrich  ?    That  like  be  unto  like  who  may 
dispute.     Yet  who  shall  comprehend  how  that  breath 
which  is  the  immortal  life  of  man,  enters  into  him,  and 
becomes  his  individual   immortality?     And  yet  who 
may  doubt  that  this  is  ?    Not  that  a  Moses,  or  a  John, 
has  asserted  it  —  not  even  because  it  is  an  expression 
of  the  vox  populi,  which  we  accept  as  the  leges  Dei, 
but  because  in  that  exhibit  which  knowledge  calls  ex- 
clusion do  we  find  Apprehension  denominated,  and  its 
existence  as  a  Sense  demonstrated. 


OR  A  TALK  IN  A  CE METER  Y.  105 

Take  lesson,  Cebes,  and  you  others  who  sit  among 
the  tombstones.  Who  will  perish  as  cat  or  dog  when 
he  may  live  as  a  God  ?  Who  will  crawl  among  mold, 
when  the  bright  empyrean  invites  him?  Who  will 
exist  alone  to  the  performance  of  animal  offices,  when 
the  Divine  asks  for  and  craves  his  help  ?  Doubt  it  not, 
my  friends,  these  modern  physicists  may  not  have  their 
arguments  gainsayed  or  their  demonstrations  brought 
to  naught :  a  man  is  an  automaton  ;  mind  is  a  function ; 
and  these,  when  combined,  are  found  to  be  nothing 
better  than  a  machine  ;  and  as  a  machine,  the  parts  go 
to  destruction  and  to  nothingness;  one  piece  after 
another  piece  going,  until  in  the  end  no  man  may  say 
that  a  machine  ever  existed. — But  the  office, — the  office, 
O  Cebes  !  —  Is  not  greatest  length  of  life  in  an  office  ? 
He  who  would  have  immortality  is  to  find  it  alone  in 
the  office  of  his  capability :  for  of  all  offices,  this  is  the 
single  one  that  is  immortal,  and  in  its  immortality  all 
that  is  divine  in  a  man  is  rendered  eternal  —  love, 
virtuous  actions,  and  all  the  things  which  are  of  Godly 
nature.  It  is  a  grand  intention  This  which  is  the 
capability  of  a  man;  it  is  the  grandeur  of  the  God 
himself.  Shall  a  man  find  himself  able  to  bear  such 
office  and  at  the  same  time  give  his  every  action  and 
thought  to  the  service  of  Mammon?  Heed,  my 
friends,  I  read  you  a  passage  from  a  famous  book  of 
these   moderns.     It  is  a  strange  passage,  to  say  .the 


106  TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AFTER. 

least  of  it.  See  what  you  can  make  out  of  it.  But  no. 
I  read  it  not  to  you :  let  me  the  rather  write  it  in  great 
letters  across  the  white  face  of  a  tombstone,  that  thus, 
whenever  you  find  yourselves  in  this  arcanum,  it  may 
stare  its  words  into  your  faces,  and  thus  compel  you  to 
consider  it ;  for  that  it  is  of  vast  import  to  men  is  not 
to  be  doubted,  seeing  that  it  belongs  to  that  utterance 
which  we  have  learned  to  be  the  speech  of  the  God.  — 
See ;  thus  it  is, 

"  It  is  easier  for  a  camel  to  go  through  the  eye  of  a 
needle,  than  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into  the  kingdom 
of  God.11 


WORKS  OF  DR.  GARRETSON. 


"  TWO  THOUSAND   YEARS  AFTER," 
A  Philosophical  Dialogue.     Price,  $1.00. 

"  THINKERS  AND  THINKING." 

An  Introduction   to   the   great  Thoughts  and  Thinkers  of 
the  world.     i6mo.     Fine  Cloth.     Price,  $1.50 

"  ODD  HOURS  OF  A  PHYSICIAN" 

A  series  of  Essays  concerning  things  which  concern  every- 
body.    i6mo.    Fine  Cloth.     Price,  $1.50. 

"LYSIAS,  THE  EASE-SEEKER."     (Ingress.) 
This  volume  is  founded  on  a  text  from  Timon  : 

"  These  things  my  heart,  O  Pyrrho,  longs  to  hear ; 
How  you  enjoy  such  ease  of  life  and  quiet, 
The  only  man  as  happy  as  a  god.'' 

Price,  $1.50. 


SCIENTIFIC. 

"A  SYSTEM  OF  ORAL  SURGERY." 

Being  a  Text-Book  on  the  Diseases  and  Surgery  of  the  Mouth, 
Jaws,  and  Face.  Handsomely  Illustrated.  Pages,  1 100. 
Price,  Cloth,  $  10.00.     Sheep,  $  1 1 .00. 


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