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things as they are； awaiting the end with resignation； with terror； or with the callous indifference of despair； according to their individual temperaments。 Others start out on wild searches of their own。 They examine the remaining religions； they try spiritualism； they bring themselves； or so imagine； into some faint and uncertain touch with the dead； the Unseen and the Powers that dwell therein； only after all to return unsatisfied； unsettled； hungry — frightened also at times — and doubtful of the true source of their vision。 For in all these far seas they can find no sure； anchored rock on which to stand and defy the storms of Fate。 Those alien religions may suit and even be sufficient to the salvation of their born votaries； but to these philosophical inquirers they are not sufficient。 Moreover； they find that Christianity embodies whatever is true and good in every one of them； rejecting only the false and evil。 To take but one example； all； or very nearly all； of the beautiful rules and maxims of Buddha are to be found in the teaching of our Lord。 but there is this difference between the faiths they preached。 Whereas that of Buddha； as I understand it； is a religion of Death； holding up cessation of mundane lives and ultimate extinction as the great reward of virtue； Christianity is a religion of Life； of continued individual being； full； glorious； sinless and eternal； to be won by those who choose to accept the revelation of its Founder。 Who then can hesitate between the two？ Who wishes to be absorbed into the awful peace of Nothingness？ Why； such； without its precedent preparation； was the refuge of the Roman who opened his veins when things went wrong or Caesar frowned！
Thus it es about that these seekers after spiritual truth remain drifting to and fro in their little boats of hope； that grow at length so frail and old； and mayhap in the end founder altogether。
Or perhaps they turn in despair and； aware of the overwhelming importance； of the awfulness of the issue indeed； to which all other things are as naught； face the situation afresh； study afresh； think afresh； pray afresh； perchance for years and years。 If so； there is really only one work with which they need trouble themselves； the New Testament； and parts of the Old such as the Psalms。 At least that is my experience — the experience of a plain man in search of truth。
I suppose that for the last fifteen or twenty years； except very occasionally through accident or a sense of unworthiness； scarcely a day has gone over my head on which I have not once （the last thing at night） and often more than once； read a portion of the Bible。 The result is that now I find it fresher； stronger； more convincing； more full of hidden meaning than I did when I began this exercise。 “Search the Scriptures” was a very great and potent saying； for in them I think is life。
What； it may be asked； do you find there； beyond picturesque narrative and the expression of hopes natural to the hearts of members of a race that in a few short years must throb itself to silence？ I answer that in all their main facts they are true。 I have been accustomed to write fiction for a space of nearly a whole generation； and I know something of the business。 Having this experience at my back I declare earnestly that； with a single exception； I do not think it possible that the gospels and the rest can be the work of man’s imagination。 That exception is the Book of Revelation； which might possibly have been conceived by some noble human mind in a wonderful period of spiritual exaltation。 I hasten to add that I am certain this was not the case； that on the contrary it was divinely inspired； whatever the actual meaning of parts of it may be。 All I say is that； in my view； it alone of the books of the New Testament might perhaps be a fruit of human powers of creation。
With the remainder of them it is different。 These； I am sure； are records of things that were said or happened very much as they are written down。 Who； for instance； could have invented the account of the Last Supper in St。 John？ A thousand touches； patent enough to the eye of one who poses romance； show that this view is true； the very inconsistencies or variations in the different accounts of certain incidents； due for the most part to the varying temperaments of the recorders that cause them to dwell upon that aspect of the matter in hand which appealed to them； rejecting or slurring over the others； suggest that it is true。 Any person who has been accustomed to hear evidence knows that such evidence is most suspicious when a number of witnesses tell exactly the same story； especially as to events that happened a while before； and most credible when that story es from sundry mouths with differences of detail。
So； the critic will say； you are prepared to swallow the miracles at a gulp？ Yes； I am — or most of them。 I do not see how they are to be explained away； moreover； I have known so many miracles to occur in my own time and experience that a few more or less make no difference to me。 To state that miracles； which after all may be but the partial manifestation of some secret law veiled from us as yet； have ceased is； in my opinion； a profound mistake； they happen often； especially in the heart of man。 Moreover； the whole circumstances of life are a miracle； the wireless instrument that at this moment I hear doing its work is a miracle； we are surrounded by miracles； unappreciated； unvalued； because so mon。 This； though a truism； is one from which we may argue。
I believe； therefore； that these things took place substantially as they are recorded； that a God…endowed Being of supernatural strength did show signs and wonders before the eyes of His generation； and for the subsequent instruction of mankind。 If this is not true； or rather； if the greatest of these signs is not true； then Christianity falls to the ground； it is a well dug in sand that will hold no water； and what tens of millions have believed and believe to be a gateway to a better and enduring world is but a glorious morning cloud which melts away and is lost in the vastness of the ether。 Then； as St。 Paul says； we are of all men the most miserable； then let us eat and drink for tomorrow we die； then let us see to it； so far as is possible； that we bring none here to bear the burden of the years and know the despairing bitterness of death。
Needless to say； I refer to the Resurrection of Jesus Christ。 If He never rose from the grave； then； so far as I can see； there is no hope for Christian man； and we trust in a vain thing。 I say； so far as I can see； for there may exist other roads of salvation with y part； I believe； however； that He did rise； as firmly as I believe that at this moment of writing I am sitting on the deck of a ship called the Arcadia； and that what He； born of woman； did； we shall do also。
Indeed this may be a convenient place to state my private opinion （it is no more； though I cannot find that it conflicts with the doctrines of Christianity； see； for instance； the passage in which our Lord refers to Elijah as having returned to Earth in the person of John the Baptist）； to the effect that we； or at any rate that some of us； already have individually gone through this process of ing into active Being and departing out of Being more than once — perhaps very often indeed — though not necessarily in this world with which we are acquainted。 In short； like the Buddhists； I am strongly inclined to believe that the Personality which animates each of us is immeasurably ancient； having been forged in so many fires； and that； as its past is immeasurable； so will its future be。 This is in some ways an unfortable faith or instinct； thus I； for one； have no wish to live again upon our earth。 Moreover； it is utterly insusceptible of proof — like everything else that has to do with the spirit — for vague memories； affinities with certain lands and races； irresistible attractions and repulsions； at times amounting in the former case to intimacies of the soul （among members of the same sex； for in discussing such matters it is perhaps better to exclude the other） so strong that they appear to be already well established； such as have drawn me so close to certain friends； and notably to one friend recently departed； are none of them proof。 Nor are the revelations of persons who seem to have access to certain stores of knowledge denied to most men； for these may be anything or nothing。 Nor is that strong conviction of immemorial age which haunts the hearts of some of us。
No； there is no proof； and yet reason es to the support of these imaginings。 Unless we have lived before； or the grotesque incongruities of life are to be explained in some way unknown to us； our present existence； to my mind； resembles nothing so much as a handful of what is known as “printer’s pie” cast together at hazard and struck off for the reader to interpret as he will or can。 Or perhaps in this case a better example would be to pare the world to a great ball…room wherein a Puck…like Death acts as Master of Ceremonies。 Here the highly born； the gifted and the successful are weled with shouts of praise； while the plain； the poorly dressed； the halt； are trodden underfoot； here partners； chosen at hazard； often enough seem to be dancing to a different time and step； till they are snatched asunder to meet no more； here one by one the revellers of all degrees are touched upon the shoulder by the Puck…like Death who calls the tune； and drop down； down into an imperable darkness； while others who knew them not are called to take their places。
But if we admit that every one of these has lived before and danced in other rooms； and will live again and dance in other rooms； then meaning informs the meaningless。 Then those casual meetings and swift farewells； those loves and hatings； are not of chance； then those partners are not chosen at hazard after all。 Then the dancers who in turn must swoon away beneath that awful； mocking touch； do not drop into darkness but into some new well of the water of Life。 Then what we behold is but a few threads； apparently so tangled； that go to weave the Sphinx’s seamless veil； or some stupendous tapestry that enwraps the whole Universe of Creation which； when seen at last； will picture forth the Truth in all its splendour； and with it the wondrous story and the meaning of our lives。
Such； put shortly and figuratively； seems to me one of the strongest arguments for the continuity of our personal existence through various phases。 It may be； however； that it is no argument at all — that there is some other explanation （beyond that of blind； black； brutal chance）； perhaps so simple that we cannot grasp it； which accounts for everything。
One contention； however； I find it hard to accept — namely； that man appearing here for the first time through an accident of the flesh is placed and judged eternally in accordance with his deeds of at most about thirty waking； conscious years （even if his life be long）； for childhood and the time spent in sleep must be excluded。 To me such a thing is almost incredible。 Final judgment I can understand after many lives of growing towards the good or towards the ill — and； indeed； the faith I follow declares it — but not an eternity of anyt