he says, "has life, the other is dead." But what is life but the action of the soul in the body, just as the ringing of an electric bell is the action of the electricity in the metal. There is no life without a soul. The trees in my garden have souls — my horse and my dog have souls — and I? Oh, I am not inferior to them, I, too, have a soul. Aye, and a soul far nobler than theirs — not a mere vegetative soul like the tree, nor a mere animal soul like the dog, but a rational, an immortal soul. Their souls are imprisoned in their bodies, and so tightly locked in that when the prison-house of their body falls, prisoner and prison perish together; but my soul, though a prisoner in my body, is still unfettered, so that the destruction of my body brings to my soul, not death, but freedom. Hence it is that we hear St. Paul exclaim: " O God, I long for death that I may begin to live with Thee." The death of the body is only the beginning of the true life of the soul, for my soul is immortal — it can never die. For why do I fear death? Is it not because Nature has implanted in me an ardent desire to live forever? Most assuredly. Now Nature does not do things in vain. If there was no such thing as sound, she would not have given me ears to hear; if there was no light or color, she would not have given me eyes to see; if there was no such thing as truth in the world, why should she have given me a mind to know the truth; and if there was no everlasting life for my soul, why should she give my soul a natural longing for it? Yes; unless my soul is immortal, Nature is a liar. Nay, in that case, even
