Hence suggests itself the further question, a necessary sequel to the first. If death is not the ending of the soul's life, what is the _nature_ of that immortality, the actuality of which the speaker seeks to establish? We have already seen Cleon emphatically repudiating the theory of Protus as to the satisfaction afforded by a vicarious immortality, "what thou writest, paintest, stays: that does not die." Equally unsatisfactory to human nature is the suggestion in the present instance of a prolongation and renewal of life by influences transmitted to succeeding generations. And yet is the certainty of the thirteenth century possible to the nineteenth? "Phrase the solemn Tuscan fashioned." I believe and I declare-- Certain am I--from this life I pass into a better, there Where that lady lives of whom enamoured was my soul. With this assurance all would be well. (iv) Now, the mere possibility of propounding questions such as the foregoing, involves the existence of that which asks, and of that to which the enquiry is addressed with at least an anticipation, however vague, of obtaining an answer. In other words, the existence of an intelligent being and an external source of intelligence to which its questionings are directed. These are the only facts on which the speaker would insist as a basis for subsequent argument: but of the certainty of these he is absolutely assured. That their existence is beyond proof he holds as testimony to their reality. Call this--God, then, call that--soul, and both--the only facts for me. Prove them facts? that they o'erpass my power of proving, proves them such: Fact it is I know I know not something which is fact as much. (ll. 222-224.) God and the soul. The primary fact of life and that which is dependent on the primary. That the soul knows not whence it came nor whither it goes is no argument against either its existence and immortality, or the existence and omnipotent and omniscient control of a divine Being. The relative positions of the rush and the stream lend themselves to the illustration of this assertion. Whatever the purpose of life, it is yet possible that man should exist without possessing assured knowledge concerning his future destiny. All that the rush may conjecture of the course of the stream is "mere surmise not knowledge": nevertheless, the existence of the stream is a fact as self-evident to the onlooker as is that of the rush. Therefore--