Each of the thousands of atoms, of which said primitive life cell was composed, had a soul destined to take its place in some descendant, if it had an opportunity. And the souls are waiting in the atoms to be born, and not in Heaven as asserted by the Yogi philosophers. The Yogis claim that the souls are waiting in some department of the Buddhist heaven crying to be born. Bosh! They are waiting in the spermatozoa, those little monsters, those little devils that drive their great human masters to crime and murder, to the gallows and the stake; there they are howling to be born. In their frantic race to enter the ovum, as shown under “Spermatozoa,” Stand. Dic., no wonder they are excited. They have been waiting 500,000,000 years for the opportunity to become human beings. Cells propagate by division; that is my original ancestor, a little, round mass of protoplasm, divided itself into two cells to produce offspring, and all of my ancestors have done the same through all these millions of years, consequently I have in my body, in all of the cells, some of the original matter of which my original cell ancestor was composed. That is eternity’s great highway by which the soul walked down. The human germ cell divides in the same manner into two individuals and we propagate, as our earliest ancestors did, by casting off a cell, which, being joined by a cell of the opposite sex, becomes fertilized. The human embryo develops by repeated subdivisions of this twin cell, and each one of the myriads of cells so produced is a living, thinking being. The question has arisen why the cells in an embryo arrange themselves in the form of the parent, and it has been asserted that they are so distributed by God in pursuance of a Divine plan. But it is actually done by the volition of the cells themselves. Each cell takes its proper position in compliance with the instruction of its parent cell, and if removed by force to some other part of the embryo, will return to its original place, thus evincing the most surprising intelligence. It must be remembered that a molecule is as large as a universe, that there is no such thing as size, that as much ability may be stored up in the nerve centre of a cell as in all the debris of a human brain. We are immortal, but with no memory of past lives. If we do not propagate, this life will be the end of our line that has continued unbroken for millions of years, and we will have to go back into the abysmal void, into the womb of chaos and commence all over again. That will be our fate in any case. Only that cell of our bodies which may be incorporated in our progeny will continue in human form. That cell is a remote relative of ours, having descended from the ancestral germ cell from which our embryo was developed.