Lyon County times. [volume] (Silver City, Nev.) 1874-1907, 1875-11-28

dOu DTedtnes luuO Ills Hostiho ''S
breath of life, and man becomes
living soul; the diviner half he owes
to his GOD, and when the clay at last,
worn and cracked with hardship and
grief, crumbles to pieces, we pay our
debt, and the spirit returns to the
giver. Plato does not say it ever re-
turns again. This Is the true phil
osophy of the Delphian inscription
which says: "Know myself, that
thou mayest know the essence from
whose source thou art derived.
Know that of the Divine One thy
soul is but ray"
We are inclined to think that the
belief in the return of the spirit is
not in conformity with the philoso-
ply as taught by the ancients, but is
more the result of false school of
reasoning arising from the teachings of
the ever restless, ever wavering and
changeable modern. Yet among some
nations the doctrine of Metempsych-
osis still exists. The transmigration
of the soul of the dead into other
human beings, is strong among the
Greenlanders, and in Africa some
tribes bury their good and brave
near the habitations of the living
that their souls may enter the new
born children, and in this manner
account for their resemblance to
dead relatives. The Icannas OF
Brazil believe that the souls of the
brave warriors become beautiful
birds, and towards, reptiles. Others
believe that in sleep the soul leaves
the body, as also in sickness, and
the dying Feejeean crys and means
for his own soul to come back. But
this belief in metempyschosis, or
transmigratlon of the soul, does not
in any particular hint of the invisi-
BILE return of the soul or spirit to
visit the spots near to it on earth,
or linger near the loved ones it left
in sorrow or tears. We dare not at
tempt to discuss this theme, from our
inability 10 understand it, and while
we cannot accept the theory of the
enthusiast, we do not reject like the
skeptic with scorn. We may gaze
upon the empty air, and the work
ings of the mind will fill it with
phantoms of the imagination. We
may call upon the mournful winds,
and roaring breakers; one passes
through the trees like a sigh, and the
other dies with a sob upon the peb-
bled beach; we may gaze on the blue
and stupendous ocean OF heaven, ap-
peal with the intensity of a yearn-
ing soul to the sparkling, unsympa-
thizing stars, and yet neither our joy
or grief will be answered, or any
sign come to gladden. the heart with
the knowledge that though invisible,
loved ones are near. Even death
fails to reveal this great secret. TITS
true that sometimes the face OF the
dying is suddenly iliumined with a
bright, happy smile; the eyes turn
upwards filled with heavenly
light, the hands clasp, the lips move,
and the soul has flown-left no word
to enlighten us what wonders, what
beauties, what promises of joy
thrilled it with such ecstacy in leav-
ing It's babitation of clay. But
oftener, much oftener, men die as If
in sleep; the silence of death steals
over them, one by one the muscles
relax, and the stern serenity of ever
lasting repose settles upon their fea-
tures-the light has passed away,
and not wandering ray was left to
show us where it sought repose. We
can only say, that if it be true they
revisit us later, how much grief it
would still, how many bitter tears it
would dry, and how many erring
souls it would reclaim, if but sign
was left to guide us to the realms of
rest somewhere beyond our vision.
In this, as in many other mysteries,
we can only say with Newton, we
may have "picked up few shells by
the seashore, but the great ocean OF
truth lies undiscovered before u.s."
and in our ignorance and doubt we
demand of earth naught but her
peaceful solitude; of heaven, its un-
polluted air.
A BEAUTIFUL EXTRACT.