Latter Day Saints' Messenger and Advocate/Volume 3/Number 3/Extract from "Dick's Philosophy of a Future State"

We extract the following chapter from "Dick's philosophy of a future state." There are reasonings sufficient, we think, to commend it to the attention of the reader—Ed. Mes.

SECTION X.

ON THE ABSURDITY OF SUPPOSING THAT THE THINKING PRINCIPLE IN MAN WILL EVER BE ANNIHILATED.

It is highly unreasonable; if not absurd, to suppose that the thinking principle in man will ever be annihilated.

In so far as our knowledge of the universe extends, there does not appear a single instance of annihilation throughout the material system. There is no reason to believe, that, throughout all the worlds which are dispersed through the immensity of space, a single atom has ever yet been, or ever will be annihilated. From a variety of observations, it appears highly probable, that the work of creation is still going forward in the distant regions of the universe, and that the Creator is replenishing the voids of space with new worlds and new orders of intelligent beings; and it is reasonable to believe, from the incessant agency of Divine Omnipotence, that new systems will be continually emerging into existence while eternal ages are rolling on. But no instance has yet occurred of any system or portion of matter either in heaven or earth having been reduced to annihilation. Changes are indeed incessantly taking place, in countless variety, throughout every department of nature. The spots of the sun, the belts of Jupiter, the surface of the moon, the rings of Saturn, and several portions of the starry heavens, are frequently changing or varying their aspects. On the earth, mountains are crumbling down, the caverns of the ocean filling up, islands are emerging from the bottom of the sea, and again sinking into the abyss; the ocean is frequently shifting its boundaries, and trees, plants, and waving grain now adorn many tracts which were once overwhelmed with the foaming billows. Earthquakes have produced frequent devastations, volcanoes have overwhelmed fruitful fields with torrents of burning lava, and even the solid strata within the bowels of the earth have been bent and disrupted by the operation of some tremendous power. The invisible atmosphere is likewise the scene of perpetual changes and revolutions, by the mixture and decomposition of gases, the respiration of animals, the process of evaporation, the action of winds, and the agencies of light, heat, and the electric and magnetic fluids. The vegetable kingdom is either progressively advancing to maturity or falling into decay. Between the plants and the seeds of vegetables there is not the most distant similarity. A small seed, only one tenth of an inch in diameter, after rotting for a while in the earth, shoots forth a stem ten thousand times greater in size than the germ from which it sprung, the branches of which afford an ample shelter for the fowls of heaven. The tribes of animated nature are likewise in a state of progressive change, either from infancy to maturity and old age, or from one state of existence to another. The caterpillar is first an egg, next, a crawling worm, then a nymph or chrysalis, and afterwards a butterfly adorned with the most gaudy colors. The may-bug beetle burrows in the earth where it drops its egg, from which its young creeps out in the shape of a maggot, which cast its skin every year, and, in the fourth year, it bursts from the earth, unfolds its wings, and sails in rapture "through the soft air." The animal and vegetable tribes are blended, by a variety of wonderful and incessant changes. Animal productions afford food and nourishment to the vegetable tribes, and the various parts of animals are compounded of matter derived from the vegetable kingdom. The wool of the sheep, the horns of the cow, the teeth of the lion, the feathers of the peacock, and the skin of the deer—nay, even our hands and feet, our eyes and ears, with which we handle and walk, see and hear, and the crimson fluid that circulates in our veins—are derived from the plants and herbs which once grew in the fields, which demonstrates the literal truth of the ancient saying, "All flesh is grass."

Still, however, amidst these various and unceasing changes and transformations, no example of annihilation has yet occurred to the eye of the most penetrating observer. When a piece of coal undergoes the process of combustion, its previous form disappears, and its component parts are dissolved, but the elementary particles of which it was composed still remain in existence. Part of it is changed into caloric, part into gass [gas], and part into tar, smoke, and ashes, which are soon formed into other combinations. When vegetables die, or are decomposed by heat or cold, they are resolved into their primitive elements, caloric, light, hydrogen, oxygen, and carbon,—which immediately enter into new combinations, and assist in carrying forward the designs of Providence in other departments of nature. But such incessant changes, so far from militating against the idea of the future existence of man, are, in reality, presumptive proofs of his immortal destination. For, if amid the perpetual transformations, changes, and revolutions that are going forward throughout universal nature in all its departments, no particle of matter is ever lost, or reduced to nothing, it is in the highest degree improbable, that the thinking principle in man will be destroyed, by the change which takes place at the moment of his dissolution. That change, however great and interesting to the individual, may not be more wonderful, nor more mysterious than the changes which take place in the different states of existence to which a caterpillar is destined. This animal, as already stated, is first an egg, and how different does its form appear when it comes forth a crawling worm? After living some time in the caterpillar state, it begins to languish, and apparently dies; it is encased in a tomb, and appears devoid of life and enjoyment. After a certain period it acquires new life and vigor, bursts its confinement, appears in a more glorious form, mounts upward on expanded wings, and traverses the regions of the air. And, is it not reasonable, from analogy, to believe, that man, in his present state, is only the rudiments of what he shall be hereafter in a more expansive sphere of existence? and that, when the body is dissolved in death, the soul takes its ethereal flight into a celestial region, puts on immortality, and becomes "all eye, all ear, all ethereal and divine feeling?"

Since, then, it appears that annihilation forms no part of the plan of the Creator in the material world, is it reasonable to suppose, that a system of annihilation is in incessant operation in the world of mind? that God is every day creating thousands of minds, endued with the most capacious powers, and, at the same time, reducing to eternal destruction thousands of those which he had formerly created? Shall the material universe exist amid all its variety of changes, and shall that noble creature, for whose sake the universe was created, be cut off forever in the infancy of its being, and doomed to eternal forgetfulness? Is it consistent with the common dictates of reason to admit, that matter shall have a longer duration than mind, which gives motion and beauty to every material scene? Shall the noble structures of St. Paul and St. Peter survive the ravages of time, and display their beautiful proportions to successive generations, while Wren and Angelo, the architects that planned them, are reduced to the condition of the clods of the valley?—Shall the "Novum Organum" of Bacon, and the "Optics" and "Principia" of Newton, descend to future ages, to unfold their sublime conceptions, while the illustrious minds which gave birth to these productions, are enveloped in the darkness of eternal night? There appears a palpable absurdity and inconsistency in admitting such conclusions. We might almost as soon believe that the universe would continue in its present harmony and order, were its Creator ceasing to exist. "Suppose that the Deity, through all the lapse of past ages, has supported the universe by such miracles of power and wisdom as have already been displayed—merely that he might please himself with letting it fall to pieces, and enjoy the spectacle of the fabric lying in ruins"—would such a design be worthy of infinite Wisdom, or conformable to the ideas we ought to entertain of a Being eternal and immutable in his nature, and possessed of boundless perfection? But suppose, farther, that he will annihilate that rational nature for whose sake he created the universe, while the material fabric was still permitted to remain in existence, would it not appear still more incompatible with the attributes of a Being of unbounded goodness and intelligence? To blot out from existence the rational part of his creation, and to cherish desolation and a heap of rubbish, is such an act of inconsistency, that the mind shrinks back with horror at the thought of attributing it to the All-wise and Benevolent Creator.

We are, therefore, necessarily led to the following conclusion: "That, when the human body is dissolved, the immaterial principle by which it was animated, continues to think and act, either in a state of separation from all body, or in some material vehicle to which it is intimately united, and which goes off with it at death; or else, that it is preserved by the Father of spirits for the purpose of animating a body in some future state." The soul contains no principle of dissolution within itself, since it is an immaterial uncompounded substance; and, therefore, although the material creation were to be dissolved and fall into ruins, its energies might still remain unimpaired, and its faculties "flourish in immortal youth.

"Unhurt, amidst the war of elements,

The wrecks of matter & the crush of worlds."

And the Creator is under no necessity to annihilate the soul for want of power to support its faculties, for want of objects on which to exercise them, or for want of space to contain the innumerable intelligences that are incessantly emerging into existence: for the range of immensity is the theatre of his Omnipotence, and that powerful Energy, which has already brought millions of systems into existence, can as easily replenish the universe with ten thousand millions more. If room were wanted for new creations, ten thousand additional worlds could be comprised within the limits of the solar system, while a void space of more than a hundred and eighty thousand miles would still intervene between the orbits of the respective globes, and the immeasurable spaces which intervene between our planetary system and the nearest stars, would afford an ample range for the revolutions of millions of worlds. And, therefore, although every soul, on quitting its mortal frame, were clothed with a new material vehicle, there is ample scope in the spaces of the universe, and in the omnipotent energies of the Creator, for the full exercise of all its powers, and for every enjoyment requisite to its happiness. So that in every point of view in which we can contemplate the soul of man and the perfections of its Creator, it appears not only improbable, but even absurd in the highest degree, to suppose that the spark of intelligence in man will ever be extinguished.