Having just shown how uncertain the question of our immortality is, Meier continues by investigating what we could say about our condition after death, assuming we exist at all. He notes that this condition has two different aspects: our moral state or condition or what is based on our freedom and our physical state or condition or what is not based on our freedom of soul, in other words, all the inner contingent features of the soul that are caused by natural necessity. Meier starts with a study of the physical condition, leaving the moral condition to a later chapter.
Meier begins by considering the condition of the soul at the very moment of death. He notes that people feel fear at impending death and thus think that death is something horrible. He then reassures the reader that this fear is either caused by something else than death itself or it is completely unfounded. Death itself is just a transition to a new condition and is therefore nothing to fear about, even if the condition after this transition or the end of our current condition might be.
Indeed, Meier goes on, all of our negative emotions in our current condition are caused by a clear feeling of imperfection. Thus, if it is probable that the soul is not even conscious of itself at the time of death, death has physically nothing to be afraid of. Now, death severs the connection of the soul and body, which makes all the feelings and sensations connected to organs of the body vanish. Dying soul cannot then immediately feel its body and it will not be conscious of the condition of the body and is even incapable of feeling pain. This still leaves the possibility that the soul might be in pain during the final moments just before death. Meier assures us that during these moments we have no external sensations and our soul probably sleeps without dreams.
Meier notes that before Christianity people often believed in reincarnation, probably because they couldn’t understand how soul could endure without a body. Since they knew of no other organic bodies than animals, they thought that the soul would occupy another human body or then some other animal body. Meier quickly dismisses the idea of reincarnation, not really with any arguments, but just by setting it aside. Still, he thinks that the idea of reincarnation contained the important notion that after its death the soul will have a new body.
Meier goes on to explain why we call a certain body our own. Firstly, we represent this body more strongly and more often than other bodies. Indeed, we immediately represent only our bodies, while the existence of other bodies we deduce from the effects they have on our sense organs. Furthermore, whenever we represent other bodies, we also represent our own body. Secondly, what we call our body is in most close combination with our soul, since our soul affects no other thing so immediately and strongly and no other finite thing affects our soul as immediately and strongly.
Thus, Meier concludes, if we can prove that the same things hold for some other body after our death, it can be shown that the soul will be connected to another body. Assuming then that the soul has after death representations of the bodies in the world and is connected to them, Meier insists that the level of these representations and connections varies quantitatively and one of these levels must be greatest. The body to which this greatest level applies will therefore be our own body. Furthermore, Meier adds, representing external things requires sensations, which also requires that the soul has its own body.
Meier makes the remark that the soul will then in a sense not die, since it will always be connected to a body – just not the same one that it had earlier. He quickly adds that this is not against the Bible, since the scripture does not deny that the soul will be embodied after its death. Of course, he notes, people have a tendency to ask for more detailed characteristics, when something is proven to exist, and if such characteristics cannot be described with any probability, they disbelieve the proof of the existence. Thus, people will want to know what our bodies after death will be like, and indeed, Meier says, there have been many speculations about them: they are shiny, weightless and have sense organs all over. Meier makes fun of all these speculations and tells the reader that some gourmands would probably insist that our new bodies must have a stomach, although actually nothing definite can yet be known about them.
Where do these new bodies then come from? Meier recounts that some newer philosophers suggest it will be a quintessence of our current bodies and thus resemble it in outline – a sort of astral body. He agrees that this would be in line with the principle that nature makes no leaps. Yet, he adds, we only have a very vague idea of the basic parts of the human body and we cannot comprehend how such an astral body would not even now interact with our visible body.
The next question Meier deals with concerns the constitution of the new bodies. Will they be more perfect or imperfect than the current ones and do they even belong to the same species? Meier will later argue that we cannot even know whether our soul will be more perfect or imperfect after our death, thus, he concludes, we also cannot say anything about the perfection of our future bodies. As for the question of the species of the body, Meier notes that nature mostly deals with similarities, but that organic processes also involve natural variety, such as when a caterpillar dies and becomes a butterfly. He also points out that before birth our bodies looked very different from what they look like after birth and suggests that the external shape is not an essential feature of the human bodies, but determined by the standpoint from which we represent the world.
Meier mentions theological discussions about souls sleeping for a while after death. He notes that there is no consensus how long this sleep would last, although some theologians have suggested it will last until resurrection. Meier thinks that the human reason can say nothing decisive about this issue, although a period of sleep appears probable, since death means passage from one body to another, which could imply that for a while we might have more obscure sensations. He adds that such a time of sleep should be especially accepted by those who believe that the soul will not have a body after death, since our soul in this life conceives things only in relation to its body and it would seem improbable that the soul gained completely new capacities. Then again, he immediately says, it also seems reasonable that the soul would be awake after death, because it should immediately be connected to another body, thus receiving new and therefore very clear representations.
The previous considerations of the physical state have been of no interest to moral or religion, Meier thinks, and then suggests a question that is: will the soul live after death spiritually or just sensuously? This question presupposes Leibnizian division of finite monads into three classes: the lowest class consists of elements of bodies that represent the world only obscurely, higher than these are sensuous souls that represent the world obscurely and clearly, but indistinctly, and the highest class is formed of finite spirits – including human souls – that represent at least parts of the world distinctly. Question is then whether souls can move from one class to another, either upwards or downwards
According to Meier, some philosophers have said that while there generally may be progress within a class, nothing can leave its class. Meier argues against this opinion, because we see things changing their classes daily: an ignorant person becomes learned, a caterpillar becomes a butterfly etc. The opinion is true if we speak of classes defined by essential differences, Meier admits, but we haven’t yet proven that, for instance, being unable to represent distinctly is an essential property of sensuous souls. A particular objection against souls changing their classes is that the souls are hindered by the limits of their force of representation. Meier notes that this argument just begs the question, since assuming sensuous souls to be incapable of becoming a spirit is just what had to be proven. Thus, Meier concludes, no one has yet proven that a soul could not move from one class to another.
Meier himself thinks that although it is not certain, it is at least very probable that an element of a body can become a sensuous soul and then a spirit. His argument hinges on the idea that a difference between obscure, clear, but indistinct, and distinct representations is just quantitative: an obscure representation becomes clear when its parts are forceful enough to distinguish the whole representation from other, while an indistinct representation becomes distinct, when its parts become clear representations. Thus, Meier insists, representative force that had represented only obscurely has to just grow and gain more parts to become more perfect. Experience seems to show that such growth happens, he adds, since babies still represent things obscurely. Corruption of representative force seems also possible, Meier adds, since no level of clarity is necessary and experience shows that e.g. formerly distinct representations are forgotten.
Meier foresees the objection that the ability to develop distinct representations is already a defining characteristic of spirits, which would lead us to straightforward idealism. He suggests that this is just a question of how to define words. By spirits, he thinks, is not usually meant any entities that have an absolute or abstract possibility for distinct representations. What is required, instead, is a hypothetical possibility for distinct representations in the current context. Furthermore, what is now hypothetically impossible can become hypothetically possible, thus, animals might in future become spirits, Meier concludes. In addition, while our soul is spirit as long as it is connected to a body in this world and hence belongs to the highest class of finite monads, it is possible that it will lose its higher capacities after death and even all consciousness. All of this depends on nothing but the decree of God.
Meier recounts that philosophers have argued that a soul will have a more perfect power of representation after death, because finite things must constantly increase their perfection, since perfection leads to more perfection, as a good tree bears only good fruits. He considers this a weak argument, since the good fruits might not anymore affect the finite thing that caused them. In addition, the human soul has many imperfections that can cause further imperfections that might overcome the perfections, just like imperfections of our body cause the ailments of old age. Meier mentions also an argument from analogy with birth: just like semen is turned more perfect in the womb, similar change happens when the soul gets a new body with its death. He points out that we cannot really say how good the analogy is, since we are not even sure whether the soul is not destroyed in death.
Could the soul just sleep eternally? If it will, Meier ponders, all its future representations will be obscure and it will descend to the level of mere elements of bodies. He notes that eternal sleep contains no contradiction, since clarity of our representations is not necessary. Furthermore, he says, eternal sleep is even hypothetically possible, because consciousness of the soul depends on constant help from God, and if God chooses not to help it anymore, the soul will sink into sleep. In addition, the soul could also be combined with a body similar to what it had before birth, which would also mean a relapse into eternal sleep. Then again, Meier admits, it is possible that God will continue helping the soul and that it will get a physically more perfect body that is better equipped for clear representations. Furthermore, although we cannot demonstrate anything certain about this question, Meier insists, it is more probable that it will not sleep eternally, since God cannot reward and punish us, if the soul sleeps eternally.
Assuming that the soul won’t sleep eternally after its death, Meier thinks he can prove that it will still sleep sometimes. If we assume immortality to be true, he suggests, the nature of our soul isn’t completely changed, and thus it will want to rest from time to time, as its clear representations become obscure: rest renews our powers and makes our representations very clear after a period of obscurity. According to Meier, if there was no sleep in heaven and hell, they wouldn’t feel as pleasurable and painful, but would eventually become obscure.
Supposing that the soul does not sleep eternally, will it retain its higher capacities or will it descend into a state of an animal? Like with many questions before, Meier has to conclude that this depends on God’s will and cannot thus be demonstrated. The supposed proofs Meier considers fall for the same errors as proofs against the soul changing its class after death.
Can the soul distinctly remember its state before death and can it know itself to be the same person as it was? Meier refers to some ancient philosophers who had assumed that the soul will forget everything of its current life: he explicitly mentions the story of Lethe, the mythical river of forgetfulness. Meier notes that there is no reason to assume that the soul won’t forget everything and in current life we have examples of people losing their memories due to a sickness. Some might even think it a good thing to forget all the pains of the current life, he adds. Then again, it is more natural and more probable to assume that the soul will remember itself.
Meier goes through some fanciful ideas of the places where souls will go after their deaths: some people think heaven lies at the centre of Earth and the hell on a comet, some think that souls remain on Earth, others believe they will sour the stars. Meier thinks it futile to investigate all these suggestions. What we can say, according to Meier, is that if the soul is immortal, it will find itself after death in such a position that is demanded by the standpoint from which it represents the world and through which it steps in close connection with things that are appropriate for the role it will play after death. Furthermore, he thinks it necessary that the soul will remain in the world, because the world is a series of all actual contingent things: even the biblical heaven and hell would be just parts of this world.
Even less can we say about the actions of the soul after death, Meier says. According to him, if the soul can use all its capacities, it will have many new representations. Thus, it will have many new desires and aversions and will move its new body in many ways. Anything else about these actions cannot be known, because the place the souls are in and the things they are in contact with determine their actions also.
What happens to the souls of children who die before they have learned to use their reason? Again, Meier thinks that we cannot really know. If the souls of children are not destroyed, they will certainly live forever, and then they will get new bodies, which might enable the use of higher capacities, Meier argues. Still, all of this is uncertain, and their current lack of higher capacities makes all of this slightly more improbable. The case is similar with old people who have exhausted their capacities and have come into a second childhood. Meier notes that some people suggest that the feebleness of the faculties of the elderly is wholly dependent on the frailty of their body and that freedom from this body would instantly return the higher capacities. He answers that considering the harmony of the soul and body, it is certain that the soul has something to do with their demented state.
