(4.) From his inherent belief.
The fourth argument is from man's belief in immortality. For such a belief has existed among men in nearly every age and country, learned and ignorant, civilised and uncivilised. It was implied by the pre-historic men who buried food and weapons with their dead, and it was maintained by such philosophers as Socrates and Plato, and how are we to account for it? It cannot have arisen from experience; and the attempts to explain it as due to the desire which men have for immortality, or to someone occasionally dreaming that he sees a departed friend, are quite inadequate. Desire is not conviction, and dreams are notoriously untrustworthy. They might account for an individual here and there entertaining this belief, but not for mankind always and everywhere doing so; especially in face of the apparent contradiction afforded by every grave.
The belief, then, seems intuitive, and an inherent part of human nature; and we may ask, is it likely that God should have implanted such a strange belief in man if it were erroneous?
These, then, are the four great arguments in favour of man's immortality—those derived from his unique position; his unjust treatment; his vast capabilities; and his inherent belief. And with the doubtful exception of the second, not one of them applies to animals; so the common objection, that if man is immortal, animals must be so too, is quite untenable.
(5.) Counter-arguments.
On the other hand, the great and only important argument against man's immortality is that his spirit seems to be inseparably connected with his body. As far as we can judge, it is born with the body; it often inherits the moral character of its parents, just as the body inherits bodily diseases; it certainly develops and matures with the body; and in most cases it seems to gradually decay with the body; therefore it is inferred the two perish together.
But this does not follow; since, as said in [Chapter IV.], it is not the same body (in the sense of the same material particles) with which the spirit is united, even in this life. It is united to a continually changing body, yet it always survives. So it is not unlikely that it may survive the still greater change at death. Moreover, it is united to the body as its master, not its servant. It is, as already shown, a free spirit; and it decides to a great extent what the body shall say, and what it shall do. It thus uses the body as a means, or instrument, by which to act in the outer world; and therefore, of course, when the instrument gets out of order, its actions will become confused, but without implying that the spirit itself is so. In the same way, if we shut up a clerk in a telegraph office, as soon as his instruments get out of order, the messages he sends, which are his only means of communicating with the outer world, will become confused, and finally cease, but without implying that there is anything wrong with the clerk himself.
And this is confirmed by the fact that instances are known in which a man's intellect and will have remained quite vigorous all through a mortal sickness, and up to the very moment of death; so the gradual decay of the body does not necessarily involve that of the mind and spirit. While in states which somewhat resemble death, when, for instance, the body is fast asleep, or rendered unconscious by an accident, the mind and spirit are often peculiarly active, as in dreams. Therefore, when the body is really dead, the spirit may (for all we know) not only survive, but be endowed with still greater powers.
On the whole, then, this is not an insuperable difficulty; while the previous arguments render the idea of a future life distinctly probable. And this has, of course, a most important bearing on our next question; indeed, it is scarcely too much to say that the probability of a revelation depends on that of a future life. For if death ends all, man's existence is so short that a revelation can scarcely be thought probable; but if he is to live for ever, the case is very different.