"The best we can desire," he says,[170] "after a courageous life, spent in doing good according to our light, is the eternal peace of the grave. 'Lord give them an eternal rest.'" It is evident however that in order to secure such a reward it is not necessary to show any courage, or attempt any sort of good-work, for according to him it equally awaits the most selfish and abandoned voluptuary. Finally,[171] At our death there disappears only the individual form in which the nerve-substance was fashioned, and the personal "soul" which represented the work performed by this. The complicated chemical combinations of that nervous mass pass over into other combinations--by decomposition, and the kinetic energy produced by them is transformed into other forms of nature. Imperial Cæsar, dead and turned to clay, Might stop a hole to keep the wind away, etc.-- * * * * * which lines others besides Haeckel are fond of quoting on this subject as if they had any possible connexion with it. It would be more to the point, and far more interesting, were some indication afforded of the chemical equivalent of the qualities which made Cæsar imperial, or those which distinguished the author of the above lines from the bards of our Music Halls. That, when a man is no more, his material part may serve various material purposes, is no more than was known to the first savage who made a drum with his enemy's skin, or used his skull for a drinking-cup.