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CHAPTER XXVIII.

LIFE AND DEATH-A LAW OF NATURE.

Qui apprendroit les hommes à mourir, leur apprendroit à vivre. Vostre mort est une des pièces de l'ordre de l'univers : c'est une pièce de la vie du monde."

MONTAIGNE.

DEATH is neither a law of hatred nor a law of vengeance; it is the condition of that which is. God has opposed it to life in order to maintain life.

The flowers of spring must fade, in order that autumn may produce its fruits; generations must pass away, that love may produce its fruits. Life and death act like a single power the one is charged to clear the place, the other to refil it; their visible end is not to create, not to destroy, but to perpetuate the great spectacle of nature.

Thus, there is nothing more remarkable than the harmony of these two powers, and, if we may so express it, than the equality of their labour. They advance at an equal pace, without either overtaking or passing each other; life sows, death reaps; and the reproductions and losses counterpoise each other. The destiny of the world depends upon the preservation of this equilibrium. You could not give death an advantage over life, or to life over death, without annihilating creation, for creation is the work of death as well as of life.

And, this is so true, that in order to cause life to cease upon the earth, it would be sufficient to establish a single exception to the law of death, I do not say in the human race, but in the most ephemeral being—a plant, a gnat, a

fly, a fish. The seeds of a single poppy would cover the earth in six years, and no more than three years would be required for a whiting to encumber the seas with its progeny. Fortunately, death is always on the watch. Foreseeing and preserving, it prevents these frightful multiplications, without ever annihilating the species; it saves the world from the excess of life.

In this respect, we will dare to say, that death is but the instrument of life. All its power is reduced to changing the forms of matter which it cannot destroy, and which life again takes from it. Thus, death has only power over the form. The essence of all things escapes it. A similar fact presents to our souls something more than hope!

It is, then, from not knowing death that we surround it with apprehension. It is a crime for a man to kill a man, because he takes away that which he cannot restore; but in the hands of God, it opens out a passage to the human race; it calls generations upon the earth. Were the work of death to be suspended, this immense stream would cease to flow. When the perceptible object of death is to multiply existences, can its imperceptible object be to annihilate?

And yet, moralists do not cease to tell us of the terrors of death some regard it as a scourge; other as a punishment. But if death be a law of vengeance, life is a law of wrath. Wherefore, then, do so many joys and hopes exist in our hearts, so many sublime inspirations in our souls? Wherefore this sun, these harvests, this verdure the air, perfumes, colours, and the delightful harmonies which indicate more goodness than power? Wherefore is life, in fact, this creation of a double self, (moi,) one of which being altogether material takes possession of nature, while the other detaches itself from nature to take possession of heaven; for our life on earth is

double, and promises us two worlds. It is true that we arrive in this world without defence and without intelligence, but we also arrive in it beneath the safeguard of maternal tenderness. Then come the sports of early infancy, then the illusions of youth and love, which would suffice to our happiness, since they raise us up to God. We want for nothing in the voyage, and Providence, which foresees all its necessities, has not forgotten its end. It bestows upon us the sentiment of infinity, which it refused to us at our entry into life.

We must dare to say, however singular it may appear, that we apprehend death because we shut our eyes to the benefits of life. If we knew better what God has done for us, we should also know better what he reserves for us. Our double life is a heavenly gift of love and goodness-a magnificent, a gratuitous gift. We were not, and here is a power which was from all eternity, that calls us not only to live and to feel, as all else lives and feels, but also to love him. This power which was, this divinity which created, gave us at first innocence and ignorance, and subsequently opened to us all the paths of imagination and of knowledge. By innocence we attain to the happiness of virtue, and by ignorance to the happiness of knowing. These two first conditions of life, which seem to attest our weakness, thus become the source of our sweetest pleasures; ignorance is the attribute of childhood, it comprises in an unlimited futurity all the joys of love, and a world to contemplate. What a multitude of reasons for loving life! But in proportion as the soul developes itself, as it feels itself free, eternal, infinite, more powerful than all the powers of nature; in proportion as the sentiment of the sublime raises it above worlds and suns, and in proportion as it frees itself from all the pains and pleasures of the flesh, does it imagine a something beyond all that it feels

and all that it sees. are there not for loving death; what numerous reasons for comprehending and hoping in the divine Creator of all things, the Power which was, is, and ever shall be; of whom, notwithstanding our weakness, we are permitted to have a glimpse; and to whom, notwithstanding our nothingness, we are allowed to pray.

Oh! then, what numerous reasons

The life of this world is a happiness, since it is the way which leads us to God.

Thus in proportion as life speaks, death loses its terrors, and appears to our souls but as a passage from darkness to light, a gate opening into heaven, at the threshold of which we only leave a corpse; a thing which, says Bossuet, has no longer a name, a handful of ashes.

Hence, to die is to be transformed; it is to pass from one life to another, from a world where we seek for truth, to a world where we possess it. Death leads us to God; this is a fact which destroys all its pains.

It is, then, for want of faith that we apprehend death, for want of enlightenment that we curse it; it is the greatest benefit of this life, since it is the end of life. But, do you say, I would not die. Well, be it so. Suppose God to give thee an eternity upon the earth. What a terrible present! Thou wouldst be condemned always to desire, without ever possessing; always to seek, without ever finding; to have constantly a glimpse of, without contemplating; always to love, without ever knowing the God whom thou lovest. Alas! what would life be, if it were restricted to this world, with desires which constantly extend beyond? All that which man seeks, loves, adores, has a glimpse of where is it? Nowhere here-below. Death then must give us that which life shows us. Death is therefore a good, the greatest good which the soul can conceive; the entrance to an eternity, which would be a

punishment upon earth, the accomplishment of the promises which life makes to us.

Man of little faith! thou blasphemest death, and it is by its means that thou mayest possess all the treasures which God permits thee in this life only to have a glimpse of and to desire. To understand death, is to study to live well; to understand life, is to be happy in death.

Let us then repose fearlessly upon this bed whereon the human race reposes. If wrath do not weigh heavily upon our life, wherefore should it suddenly show itself at our death? The laws of nature are laws of benevolence, which protect us unto the end; and it is perhaps in their last expression that God has placed the great secret of futurity. Observe the dying looks of all creatures directed towards the place where their posterity must be renewed. The butterfly falls near the flower in which it has deposited its eggs; the bird at the foot of the tree which sheltered its nest; the goat dies among its rocks; the bull in the meadows, stretched out upon the rich pasture; but man dies with his head and his eyes turned towards heaven, as a symbol of his immortality.

CHAPTER XXIX.

CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT.

DEATH IS NOT A PUNISHMENT INFLICTED UPON THE HUMAN RACE.

"Nous avons des affaires au ciel, ou plutot nous n'avons point d'affaires en ce monde; c'est au ciel que sont toutes nos affaires." "O mort! je te rends grâce des lumières que tu nous donnes." BOSSUET.

To the picture which we have just drawn, superstition opposes the most alarming prospects. It exclaims on our