The Future Life.

The future life has ceased to be a problem. It is a fact established by reason and by demonstration for almost all men, since those who deny it form an infinitesimal minority, despite the noise they attempt to make. It is not, then, its reality that we propose to demonstrate here. That would be to repeat ourselves, without adding anything to the general conviction. The principle being admitted, as a first fruit, what we propose is to examine its influence upon the social order and upon moralization, according to the manner in which it is viewed.

The consequences of the contrary principle, that is, of “nothingism,” are already too well known and sufficiently understood for it to be necessary to develop them anew. We will only say that, if the nonexistence of the future life were demonstrated, the present life would have no other end than the maintenance of a body that, tomorrow, within an hour, may cease to exist, everything in that case being entirely finished. The logical consequence of such a condition for Humanity would be the concentration of all thoughts upon the increase of material pleasures, without regard to the harm done to others. Why, then, should anyone endure privations, impose sacrifices upon himself? Why should he constrain himself in order to improve himself, to correct himself of his defects? It would also be the absolute uselessness of remorse, of repentance, since nothing would be to be hoped for. It would be, in short, the consecration of selfishness and of the maxim: The world belongs to the strongest and to the most cunning. Without the future life, morality is no more than a mere constraint, a conventional code, arbitrarily imposed; it would have no root in the heart. A society founded on such a belief would have for its only bond, to hold its members together, force, and would very soon fall into dissolution. Let it not be objected that, among the deniers of the future life, there are honest persons, incapable of knowingly causing harm to anyone whatsoever, and susceptible of the greatest devotions. Let us say, first of all, that, among many unbelievers, the denial of the hereafter is more bravado, boastfulness, the pride of passing for strong minds, than the result of an absolute conviction. In the inner forum of their consciences, there is a doubt that troubles them, on account of which they seek to stun themselves. It is not, however, without dissimulation that they pronounce the terrible nothingness, which deprives them of the fruit of all the labors of the intelligence and shatters forever the dearest affections. Many of those who declaim most loudly are the first to tremble before the idea of the unknown; for that very reason, when the fatal moment of entering into that unknown approaches them, very few are those who fall asleep, in the final sleep, in the firm persuasion that they will not awaken somewhere, seeing that Nature never abdicates her rights. We affirm, then, that, in the majority of unbelievers, the incredulity is very relative, that is, that, their reason being satisfied neither with the dogmas nor with the religious beliefs, and having found nothing, anywhere, with which to fill the void that had been made within them, they concluded that there is nothing and built systems with which to justify the denial. They are not, consequently, unbelievers except for lack of something better. The absolutely incredulous are exceedingly rare, if indeed they exist.

A latent and unconscious intuition of the future is, therefore, capable of holding back a great number of them on the slope of evil, and an immensity of acts could be cited, even on the part of the most hardened, testifying to the existence of that secret sentiment that dominates them, in spite of themselves.

It must also be said that, whatever the degree of incredulity, it is human respect that renders persons of a certain social condition reserved. The position they occupy obliges them to a very discreet line of conduct; they fear above all the disesteem and the disdain that, making them lose, by falling from the category in which they find themselves, the attentions of the world, would deprive them of the pleasures they enjoy; if they lack a foundation of virtues, they have at least the veneer of them. But to those who have no reason to concern themselves with the opinion of others, to those who mock the “what will they say,” and it cannot be contested that these form the majority, what brake can be imposed upon the overflowing of brutal passions and gross appetites? On what base shall one rest the theory of good and evil, the necessity for them to reform their evil inclinations, the duty to respect what belongs to others, when they themselves possess nothing? What can be the stimulus to honesty, for creatures whom one has persuaded that they are no more than simple animals? The law, they reply, is there to contain them; but the law is not a code of morality that touches the heart; it is a force whose action they endure and which they elude, if they can. If they fall under its gauntlet, this is regarded by them as the result of bad luck or of clumsiness, which they set about remedying at the first occasion. Those who claim that unbelievers have more merit in doing good, because they expect no recompense in the future life, in which they do not believe, avail themselves of a sophism equally ill founded. Believers too say that the good practiced with a view to advantages that may be reaped is of little merit. They go even further, for they are persuaded that the merit can be completely annulled, such being the motive that determines the action. The perspective of the future life does not exclude disinterestedness in good works, because the felicity they procure is, above all, subordinated to the degree of moral advancement of the individual. Now, the proud and the ambitious are counted among the least favored. But are the unbelievers who do good as disinterested as they claim? Is it that, expecting nothing from the other world, they also expect nothing from this one? Has self-love no part in the matter? Are they insensible to the applause of men? If such were the case, they would be at a degree of rare perfection, and we do not believe that there are many who are induced to so much solely by the cult of matter. A more serious objection is this: If the belief in the future life is a moralizing element, how is it that those to whom it is preached from the moment they come into the world are equally so wicked?

In the first place, who tells us that without it they would not be worse? There is no doubting it, once one considers the inevitable results of the popularization of “nothingism.” Is it not proved, on the contrary, by observing the different gradations of Humanity, from savagery up to civilization, that intellectual and moral progress goes in the lead, producing the softening of customs and a more rational conception of the future life? That conception, however, being very imperfect, cannot yet exert the influence it will necessarily have, in proportion as it is better understood and as more exact notions are acquired regarding the future that is reserved for us.

However solid the belief in immortality may be, man does not concern himself with his soul except from a mystical point of view. The future life, defined with extreme lack of clarity, impresses him only very vaguely; it is no more than an objective that is lost very far off, and not a means, because his lot is irrevocably assigned to him and nowhere is it presented to him as progressive, whence it is concluded that what we shall be, on leaving here, we shall be for all eternity. Moreover, the picture they draw of the future life, the conditions determining the happiness or the misfortune that are experienced there, are far, especially in a century of examination such as ours, from completely satisfying reason. Add that it is not very directly bound to terrestrial life, there being no solidarity between the two, but rather an abyss, so that he who concerns himself principally with one of the two almost always loses the other from sight. Under the empire of blind faith, this abstract belief sufficed for the inspirations of men who, then, allowed themselves to be led. Today, however, under the reign of free examination, they wish to conduct themselves by themselves, to see with their own eyes and to understand. Those vague notions of the future life are no longer at the height of the new ideas and no longer correspond to the needs that progress has created. With the development of ideas, everything must progress around man, because everything is linked, everything is solidary in Nature: sciences, beliefs, cults, legislations, means of action. The movement forward is irresistible, because it is the law of the existence of beings. Whatever lags behind, below the social level, is set aside, like a garment that has become useless, and finally swept away by the swelling wave.

The same happens with the puerile ideas about the future life with which our fathers contented themselves; to persist today in imposing them would be to propagate incredulity. In order for general opinion to accept it and for it to exert its moralizing action, the future life must be presented under the aspect of a positive thing, in some way tangible and capable of withstanding any examination, satisfying reason, leaving nothing in shadow. At the moment when the precariousness of the notions about the hereafter was opening the door to doubt and to incredulity, new means of investigation were conferred upon man, to penetrate that mystery and to make him understand the future life in its reality, in its positivism, in its intimate relations with corporeal life.

Why, in general, is so little care given to the future life? It is, however, a matter of present concern, since every day thousands of men depart for that unknown destination. Each of us having to depart in turn, and the hour of departure being able to sound from one moment to another, it seems natural that all should concern themselves with what will happen. Why does this not occur? Precisely because the destination is unknown, and because, up to the present, no one had the means of knowing it. Science, inexorable, dislodged it from the places where they had confined it. Is it near? Is it far? Is it lost in the infinite? The philosophies of yesteryear answer nothing, because they know nothing in this respect. One then says: “It will be whatever it will be.” Indifference.

We are taught that we shall be happy or unhappy, according as we shall have lived well or ill. But this is so vague! In what do that happiness and that unhappiness consist? The picture they draw of the one and the other is so at variance with the idea we form of God's justice, so full of contradictions, of inconsistencies, of radical impossibilities, that involuntarily doubt presents itself, if not absolute incredulity. Moreover, it is considered that those who were mistaken with regard to the places indicated for future dwellings may also have been led into error as to the conditions they establish for happiness and for suffering. Besides, how shall we be in that other world? Shall we be concrete or abstract beings? Shall we have a form or an appearance? If we have nothing material, how shall we be able to experience material sufferings? If the blessed have nothing to do, perpetual idleness, instead of a recompense, will be a torment, unless one admits the Nirvana of Buddhism, which is no more desirable than that idleness. Man will not concern himself with the future life except when he sees in it a clearly and positively defined end, a logical situation, in correspondence with all his aspirations, which resolves all the difficulties of the present and in which nothing presents itself to him that reason cannot admit. If he concerns himself with the next day, it is because the life of the next day is intimately bound to the life of the previous day; the one and the other are solidary; he knows that on what he does today depends his position tomorrow, and that on what he does tomorrow will depend his position on the following day, and so on.

Such must the future life be for him, when it is no longer lost in the nebulosities of abstraction and is a palpable present reality, the necessary complement of the present life, one of the phases of the general life, as the days are phases of corporeal life. When he sees the present react upon the future, by the force of things, and, above all, when he understands the reaction of the future upon the present; when, in short, he verifies that the past, the present, and the future are linked together by inflexible necessity, like yesterday, today, and tomorrow in the present life, oh! then his ideas will change completely, because he will see in the future life not only an end, but also a means; it is not a distant effect, but a present one. Then, likewise, this belief will without doubt exert, and by an entirely natural consequence, a preponderant action upon the social state and upon the moralization of Humanity. Such is the point of view from which Spiritism makes us consider the future life.

Allan Kardec.