Behind the Veil.

Thames Star, Volume VII, Issue 2619, 31 May 1877, Page 3

Behind the Veil.

We have already intimated that we think it questionable whether the doctrine of a future life has been of that practical service to mankind, either in kind or degree, which is commonly assumed. Of its inestimable value, as a consolation to the sorrowing, as a hope to the aspiring, as a rest to the weary and heavy laden, it is not easy to speak in language too strong. But we are inclined to doubt whether it exercises much influence on the actual morals of mankind at large ; whether except in isolated instances the expectation of future retribution operates strongly to deter from crime or to stimulate to virtue ; arid it is more than doubtful whether the happiness and social progress of mankind has not rather been j retarded than promoted by this doctrine. But as to the deep paramount interest to every believer there can be no difference of opinion. Speculation as to the nature of that strange and new existence, and as to the influence which our proceedings here ma^S^ert on our position there, cannot fail to engross much of the thoughts of the serious mind.

We cannot agree with those who say that earth can give us no conception, no foretaste, of the felicities of Heaven. How then can we affect honestly to desire it? If we cannot conceive of it, how can we long for it? And how can we conceive of it, but from the basis of experienced feelings ? " W hat can we reason but from what we know ?" Why. should we regard this life as so wretched ■nd unworthy that the happiness of Heaven must necessarily be composed of distinct ingredients from the happiness of earth P God made it too. That something will yet remain to be superadded—something entirely new —in that future existence, I can well believe. Though God will be—caa be—no nearer to us there'than here, yet, as^ our perceptions of his presence will be clearer, and our insight into His nature incalculably deeper, it may be that at length, when through the course of those endless gradations of progress through which our spiritual faculties will attain.their full development, we shall have begun to know Him with. something of the same cognizance with which we know our fellow-creatures here—we shall so learn to love Him, that that love will absorb into itself all the other constituents of the Beatific Life. But I can conceive of this only as the result of the most ultimate and.seraphic knowledge: to expect it soon, or to effect it here seems to me equally irrational and insincere.

It is.unreasonable to expect so entire a change in the character of the soul, by the mere event of death, as would entitle it, or enable it to enter at once on the enjoyment of Supreme felicity. With the shuffling ofi this mortal coil, we may, indeed, hope to lay down ait once and for ever all those temptations with which in this life the senses beset the soul, all that physical weakness which has clogged and bounded the exertions of the intellect, all that obscurity , with which our material nature has too often clouded bur mortal rision. . But that the soul which has been angry, narrow^ or infirm here, should suddenly, become large, strong 1, and placid there, is a miracle which the analogies of God's workings give us no ground to anticipate. We believe that according to the goal vf hich each soul has reached on earth, will be its starting point in Heaven —that, through long ages of self-elaborating effort it must win its way up nearer and nearer to the Throne of God—and that occupation caa never fail, nor interest ever flag, even through everlasting being ; for, infinite as may be its duration, will it not be surpassed by the infinitude of the universe ? When we reflect that during a life of seventy years, the wisest of the sons of men, though aided by all the knowledge that preceding generations have bequeathed to them, can penetrate only an insignificant portion of the wonders of this little earth, we need not fear that eternity will exhaust the contemplations of him to whom will be open not only the systems and firmaments we read of and can dimly see, but that larger, remoter, more illimitable universe—which w.e cannot even dream ,pf here. " But the punishments of the next world !'' we hear it asked. Well! is our imagination so poor and * barren that we can conceive of no adequate and ample ones, without having recourse to the figures of the worm that dieth not, and the fire that is not quenched ? Must not a future world in itself bring with it dreadful retribution to the wicked, the selfish and the weak? In the mere fact of their cleared perceptions, in the realisation of their low position, in seeing themselves at length as they really are, in feeling that all their work is yet to do, in beholding all those they loved and venerated far before them, away from them, fading in the bright distance, may lie, must lie; a torture, a v purifying fire, in comparison with which tte representations of Dante and Milton sfeL'.vel into tameness and inadequacy. iSkhe base, the sensual, the hard, who have no notion of a neutral torment, translate these, if you will, by the image of a quenchless flame and a sulphurous lake; but seek not to embody such coarse and earthly conceptions in the theology of better natures.—:'• Greg's Creed of Christendom."