when his mind is senile, but is contented as a little child.  And not only is this constant, simultaneous growth and decay of body and mind to be observed, but we know that mental functions are disordered and suspended by various physical conditions.  Alcohol, many drugs, fever, disorder the mind; a blow on the cranium suspends its functions, and the ‘spirit’ returns with the surgeon’s trepanning.  Does the ‘spirit’ take part in dreams?  Is it absent from the idiot, from the lunatic?  Is it guilty of manslaughter when the madman murders, or does it helplessly watch its own instrument performing actions at which it shudders?  If it can only work here through an organism, is its nature changed in its independent life, severed from all with which it was identified?  Can it, in its ‘disembodied state,’ have anything in common with its past?"[11]

It will be seen that my unbelief in the existence of the Soul or Spirit was a matter of cold, calm reasoning.  As I wrote in 1885:  “For many of us evidence must precede belief.  I would gladly believe in a happy immortality for all, as I would gladly believe that all misery and crime and poverty will disappear in 1885—­if I could.  But I am unable to believe an improbable proposition unless convincing evidence is brought in support of it.  Immortality is most improbable; no evidence is brought forward in its favour.  I cannot believe only because I wish."[12] Such was the philosophy by which I lived from 1874 to 1886, when first some researches that will be dealt with in their proper place, and which led me ultimately to the evidence I had before vainly demanded, began to shake my confidence in its adequacy.  Amid outer storm and turmoil and conflict, I found it satisfy my intellect, while lofty ideals of morality fed my emotions.  I called myself Atheist, and rightly so, for I was without God, and my horizon was bounded by life on earth; I gloried in the name then, as it is dear to my heart now, for all the associations with which it is connected.  “Atheist is one of the grandest titles a man can wear; it is the Order of Merit of the world’s heroes.  Most great discoverers, most deep-thinking philosophers, most earnest reformers, most toiling pioneers of progress, have in their turn had flung at them the name of Atheist.  It was howled over the grave of Copernicus; it was clamoured round the death-pile of Bruno; it was yelled at Vanini, at Spinoza, at Priestley, at Voltaire, at Paine; it has become the laurel-bay of the hero, the halo of the martyr; in the world’s history it has meant the pioneer of progress, and where the cry of ‘Atheist’ is raised there may we be sure that another step is being taken towards the redemption of humanity.  The saviours of the world are too often howled at as Atheists, and then worshipped as Deities.  The Atheists are the vanguard of the army of Freethought, on whom falls the brunt of the battle, and are shivered the hardest of the blows; their feet trample down the thorns that others may tread unwounded; their bodies fill up the ditch that, by the bridge thus made, others may pass to victory.  Honour to the pioneers of progress, honour to the vanguard of Liberty’s army, honour to those who to improve earth have forgotten heaven, and who in their zeal for man have forgotten God."[13]