"I sent for you to-night," he said, "not so much to administer to my
bodily ailment, as to satisfy me concerning certain physical
impressions which, of late, have occasioned me much anxiety and
surprise. I need not tell you how skeptical I have hitherto been on
the topic of the soul's immortality. I cannot deny that there has
always existed, as if in that very soul which I have been denying, a
vague half-sentiment of its own existence. But this half-sentiment
at no time amounted to conviction. With it my reason had nothing to
do. All attempts at logical inquiry resulted, indeed, in leaving me
more sceptical than before. I had been advised to study Cousin. I
studied him in his own works as well as in those of his European and
American echoes. The 'Charles Elwood' of Mr. Brownson for example, was
placed in my hands. I read it with profound attention. Throughout I
found it logical but the portions which were not merely logical were
unhappily the initial arguments of the disbelieving hero of the
book. In his summing up it seemed evident to me that the reasoner
had not even succeeded in convincing himself. His end had plainly
forgotten his beginning, like the government of Trinculo.
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