The Clue of the Maze

No Soul

A certain preacher had wrought his best to benefit his audience; but one of them came to him, and somewhat rudely remarked, “Your preaching is of no use to me. I do not believe that I have a soul, I don’t want to be talked to about an imaginary here-after: I shall die like a dog.” The minister calmly replied, “Sir, I have evidently failed through mis-apprehension. I did my best for the good of all my hearers; but I prepared the entertainment under the notion that I was catering for men with souls. Had I known that there were creatures present who had no souls, and would die like dogs, I would have provided a good supply of bones for them.” “Banter,” says one. Commonsense, say we. What more gentle dealing than playful sarcasm can be expected by men who hold such degrading views of themselves? Assuredly no soul need be worried by them. They confess their own inability to help us, and tacitly admit that we are not bound to let them hinder us. “There is no such thing as light.” cries one, “for I have no eyes wherewith to enjoy it.” Is there any argument in this? No, the blind gentleman is to be pitied, but his opinions upon colour and optics can have no weight. Soul-less beings may hold what philosophies they please; their opinions may be interesting as curiosities, but they cannot influence men with souls in the least degree.
The Clue of the Maze.

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