I do not doubt for a moment
that it is the immortal principle in man, the sense of
deathlessness, which comes to his aid. It is the instinct which, in
spite of all knowledge and experience, says suddenly, in a moment
like that, "Well, what then?" That instinct is a far truer thing
than any expectation or imagination. It sees things, in supreme
moments, in a true proportion. It asserts that when the rope jerks,
or the flames leap up, or the benumbing blow falls, there is
something there which cannot possibly be injured, and which indeed
is rather freed from the body of our humiliation. It is but an
incident, after all, in a much longer and more momentous voyage. It
means only the closing of one chapter of experience and the
beginning of another. The base element in it is the fear which
dreads the opening of the door, and the quitting of what is
familiar. And I feel assured of this, that the one universal and
inevitable experience, known to us as death, must in reality be a
very simple and even a natural affair, and that when we can look
back upon it, it will seem to us amazing that we can ever have
regarded it as so momentous and appalling a thing.
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