As to my empirical self, I let go my hold on it. I see it perish with the same indifference which the materialist asserts, for whom man is but a compound of physical matter and physical force. It is the real self, of which the empirical was the substratum, upon which I tighten my hold. I do not assert immortality, since immortality, like creation, is a bridge between the phenomenal and the spiritual levels. Creation is the bridge at the beginning; immortality the bridge at the end. Were I able to build the bridge, I should know. I do not affirm immortality. I affirm the real and irreducible existence of the essential self. Or rather, as my last act, I affirm that the ideal of perfection which my mind inevitably conceives has its counterpart in the ultimate reality of things, is the truest reading of that reality whereof man is capable. I turn away from the thought of the self, even the essential self, as if that could be my chief concern, toward the vaster infinite whole in which the self is integrally preserved. I affirm that there verily is an eternal divine life, a best beyond the best I can think or imagine, in which all that is best in me, and best in those who are dear to me, is contained and continued. In this sense I bless the universe. And to be able to bless the universe in one’s last moments is the supreme prize which man can wrest from life’s struggles, life’s experience.
I look back upon my life once more, and am grateful for the eternal worth which it was permitted me in this frail vessel of my mortal existence to hold, for the shimmer of the spiritual reality of things which I was permitted to see; grateful especially to those who loved me, and whom I was permitted to love, and who were to me in some measure revealers of the eternal life.
Consider lastly the peace that passeth understanding. Now, if ever, this peace should descend upon me. There is a kind of peace that is accessible to the understanding, and there is the peace that passeth understanding. The peace that can be understood is that which consists in the relief of pain. It arises in various ways. After an acute attack of physical pain how like balm is felt the succeeding absence of pain. After a prolonged sickness, when the convalescent takes his first walk, what a sweet tranquillity fills his mind! There is also the mental relief that comes when some danger has been safely passed; the peace of the sheltered fireside to one who has passed through a storm. Again, there is the peace that follows pecuniary anxiety, or the removal of some carking care, as when an erring son is reclaimed, or an estranged wife or husband is found anew.
But the peace that passeth understanding is that which comes when the pain is not relieved, which subsists in the midst of the painful situation, suffusing it, which springs out of the pain itself, which shimmers on the crest of the wave of pain, which is the spear of frustration transfigured into the shaft of light.
It is upon those we love that we must anchor ourselves spiritually in the last moments. The sense of interconnectedness with them stands out vividly by way of contrast at the very moment when our mortal connection with them is about to be dissolved. And the intertwining of our life with theirs, the living in the life that is in them, is but a part of our living in the infinite manifold of the spiritual life. The thought of this, as apprehended, not in terms of knowledge, but in immediate experience, begets the peace that passeth understanding. And it is upon the bosom of that peace that we can pass safely out of the realm of time and space.
APPENDIX
APPENDIX I
SPIRITUAL SELF-DISCIPLINE
The preceding volume in its entirety and in every part is nothing else than a book of spiritual self-discipline. Every religion presents to its followers as real objects that the eye has not seen. The certainty of the existence of these objects, religious certainty, religious conviction, springs from one or other kind of need and distress. The object that the eye has not seen is believed in because it corresponds to that need, and relieves that distress. Furthermore, the conviction is strengthened, the certainty intensified, by two methods: (1) elaboration of the ideas presented; (2) performing acts in the doing of which the existence of the objects is presupposed. Thus the idea of the Heavenly Father corresponds to the childlike need of protection. The elaboration of this idea in theological systems strengthens its hold, every idea being powerful as an active force in proportion as it is worked out in detail and linked up with other ideas. And ceremonies, prayers, acts of worship in the doing of which the reality of the Father-God is presupposed, strengthen the belief in him. Conduct is one of the chief sources of belief. The more frequently a devout Roman Catholic prays to the Virgin Mary, the more firmly will he be convinced that she exists and hears him. These features are common to all religion: unseen objects are presented as real; the belief in their reality is augmented by elaboration of the ideas; and above all their hold is reinforced by practice founded on and presuming the reality of the ideas.
The unseen object which the religion of spiritual experience presents is the unique personality. The lines along which the ideas are to be elaborated have been sketched in the above. Conduct based on the presumption that the divine nature exists in every human being is the principal means of fortifying that conviction, and this presumption itself rests on the fundamental fact of worth.