Physical death marks the transition from earthly life to eternal existence, freeing the soul to be with Christ and bringing rest akin to peaceful sleep (John 11:11-14; 1 Thessalonians 4:13-14). Christian preaching often uses imagery of crossing rivers, sleeping in Jesus' arms, and shadows to depict death as a passage rather than an end, highlighting hope, resurrection, and the believer’s victory over fear through faith.
Death humbles all human pride and power, showing its universal and inescapable nature.
O eloquent, just, and mighty death! whom none could advise, thou only hast persuaded; what none hath dared, thou hast done; and whom all the world hath flattered, thou only hast cast out and despised. Thou hast drawn together all the far-stretched greatness, all the pride, cruelty, and ambition of man, and covered it over with those two narrow words, "Hic jacet."
— Raleigh
Ignoring God’s warnings leads to sudden judgment and loss at life’s end.
O Man! of all fools, a fool with a gray head is the worst fool anywhere. With one foot in the grave, and another foot on a sandy foundation, bow shall I depict you, but by saying to you, as God said to the rich man, "Thou fool! a few more nights and thy soul shall be required of thee;" and then where art thou? Spurgeon.
Presuming on tomorrow risks losing your soul before repentance is possible.
A young man who had inherited an estate from an uncle was exhorted to seek Christ, and said, that he would do so as soon as he had paid off the debts that encumbered the estate. The pastor said, "Young man, beware!" you may never see that day: while you are gaining the world, you may lose your soul." The young heir said, "I'll run the risk." He went into the woods, and was engaged felling a tree; when a falling limb caused his instant death, within a few hours of his bold presumption.
Reckless presumption leads to destruction despite warnings and danger signs.
A noble ship was bearing in to port. It was the evening hour, and too late to enter without a pilot. There were two passages into the harbor; one a dangerous narrow channel, the other a wide and safer one. The captain determined to pilot himself by the narrow passage. A storm was coming up; and the passengers, with fear and consternation, begged him to take the wider channel. He laughed at their cowardice, and swore he would do as he pleased. As the night advanced, the gale increased. Soon arose a cry, "Breakers ahead, breakers ahead!" The captain flew to the wheel; the sails were struck; the wind had the mastery; and the captain found a will that could defy his own. The vessel made a fearful plunge, struck the foreship deep into the sand, to be shattered by the wild waves' pleasure. Few survived the terrors of that fearful night; but among the dead thrown up by the rising tide was the body of the wilful and presumptuous captain.
Procrastination in serious matters can lead to sudden and fatal consequences.
Archias, a Grecian chief-magistrate, was so unpopular, that his people conspired against his life. The day arrived for the execution of the plot. Archias was erased with wine, when a courier arrived from Athens, and hastened to put into his hands what afterwards proved to be a circumstantial account of the whole conspiracy, saying, "My lord, the person who writes you these letters conjures you to read them immediately: they contain serious affairs." Archias replied, "Serious affairs to-morrow;" and continued his revel. That night, in the midst of his mirth, the conspirators rushed into his palace, and murdered him and his associates.
Prosperity without God ultimately leads to death and the grave.
"What shall I come to, father," said a young man, "if I go on prospering in this way?" — "To the grave," the father replied.
Sin's hidden danger is like a serpent in a cup, bringing death and judgment unexpectedly.
The tale of the goblet which the genius of a heathen fashioned was true, and taught a moral of which many a death-bed furnishes the melancholy illustration. Having made the model of a serpent, he fixed it in the bottom of the cup. Coiled for the spring, a pair of gleaming eyes in its head, and in its open mouth fangs raised to strike, it lay beneath the ruby wine. Nor did he who raised that golden cup to quench his thirst, and quaff the delicious draught, suspect what lay below, till, as he reached the dregs, that dreadful head rose up, and glistened before his eyes. So, when life's cup is nearly emptied, and sin's last pleasure quaffed, and unwilling lips are draining the bitter dregs, shall rise the ghastly terrors of remorse and death and judgment upon the despairing soul. Be assured, a serpent lurks at the bottom of guilt's sweetest pleasure.
— Dr. Guthrie
Neglecting the soul's thirst leads to spiritual death and eternal despair.
A German had his side torn by a shell in the battle of the Wilderness, and lay down, sheltered by his blanket from the scorching sun, to die. A burning thirst caused his greatest suffering. A delegate put a canteen to his lips to relieve him. His disappointment and agony were intense when he found that he could not swallow. Every effort was in vain; and death came swiftly on. This case is analogous to the fate of one whose soul-thirst has been neglected till relief is impossible.
An hourglass symbolizes life's fleeting time, urging awareness before it runs out.
There was an ancient custom of putting an hour-glass into the coffin of the dead to signify that their time had run out, a useless notification to them. Better put the hour-glass into the hand of every living man, and show them the grains gliding steadily out. Soon all will be gone.
An actor died onstage at the moment his character faced death, showing life's fragility.
The death of Joseph Peterson, an actor long attached to the Norwich company, (Eng.,) was somewhat remarkable. In October, 1758, he was performing the Duke, in "Measure for Measure." Mr. Moody was the Claudio, and in the third act, where, as the friar, he was preparing Claudio for execution next morning, at these words:—
"——— Reason thus with life: If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep: a breath Thou art."
Here he dropped into Mr. Moody's arms, and never spake more.
An actor accidentally killed himself by fully identifying with his tragic role.
A number of young men were once engaged in acting the tragedy of "Bertram, or the Castle of St. Aldobrand," at Nashville. Mr. J. J. McLaughlin, formerly of Hopkinsville, Ky., was engaged to act the part of Bertram, whose part it was during the progress of the play to feign to stab himself. For this purpose he had provided himself with a Spanish knife. "As the tragedy wore to its devoutment his excitement increased, and the gloomy spirit of the play was upon him with a power that made a strong impression of reality upon the hearers, and made them shudder as he pronounced the following, accompanied by the plunge of the dagger that brought him to his death:—
'Bertram hath but one fatal foe on earth, And he is here.' [Stubs himself.]
It was at this moment that he plunged the weapon to his heart. It was doubtless the result of the excited feelings of the actor, who had too absorbingly entered into the dreadful spirit of his hero. We charitably suppose that he had no premeditated design of ending his life with the play; but his complete identification of feeling with the part he acted, led him to suicide as a natural consequence.
"The hallucination, if such we may call it, did not end with the plunge of the dagger. His feelings bore him along yet further. There was still, after some exclamations of surprise from the tragic monks, a dying sentence for him to repeat. He went through it with a startling effect:—
[With a burst of exultation.]
'I died no felon's death— A warrior's weapon freed a warrior's soul.'
# AFFE
# 7. Affection, Conjugal.
A king reflects on death's humility amid life's ambitious pursuits.
Philip, king of Macedon, as he was wrestling at the Olympic games, fell down in the sand; and when he rose again, observing the print of his body in the sand, cried out, "O how little a parcel of earth will hold us, when we are dead, who are ambitiously seeking after the whole world whilst we are living!"
Physical beauty fades in death, showing the vanity of worldly attractions.
A young lady in A ——, N. Y., was attacked with the small-pox. She was gay and thoughtless, and had been much admired for her comeliness and
# 35. BEGGARS
An infidel's final moments reveal fear and uncertainty about life after death.
An avowed infidel, whose language and conduct had been most profane, and who had boldly argued for man's right to kill himself when he found it expedient, swallowed a quantity of opium which put an end to his life. Among his papers was found one, on which was written, "I have this moment swallowed a vial of tincture of opium, consequently my life will be but short. Whether there will be a heaven or a hell, I leave parsons to divine." The part of the manuscript which followed was blotted, and concluded thus: "My hand trembles, my eyes grow dim, I can see to write no more; but he that would be happy should be religious."
Many Jews sensed sin and wrath but lacked peace in seeing God's salvation at death.
BED OF THE JEW.—In his interesting work, "Judah and Israel," Mr. Frey, a converted Jew, and who for more than forty years has labored among this people as a minister of the gospel, says: "For seven long years, while officiating Rabbi in the synagogue, it was my painful lot to attend the sick and dying; and while I found all of them sensible of their being sinners, and exposed to the wrath of God, I never found one saying, like good old Simeon, 'Now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation.'"
A condemned man’s calm focus on tobacco shows how ruling passions persist even at death.
The Editor of the Chenango Telegraph, in giving an account of the execution of George Denison, who suffered at Norwich, New-York, says, that while standing upon the fatal drop, and during the exhortation of the clergyman, the prisoner asked in a whisper, for the tobacco box of the deputy sheriff, from which he coolly took a quid, deposited it in his mouth, and returned the box. In ten minutes, he was launched into eternity! On the morning of the day that Hamilton, who shot Major Birdsall, was to be executed, the clergy passed two hours in solemn exercises with him. After they left the cell, Hamilton gave some directions about his gallows wardrobe. As the keeper was leaving to execute his commission, he asked Hamilton if he wanted any thing else. He replied, "You may get me a paper of tobacco." After a moment's reflection, he added, "Stop, perhaps I have enough,"—and, rising on his elbow, drew a part of a paper from under the pillow of his pallet, and measuring in his mind the quantity of tobacco by the few hours he had to live, calmly remarked, "This will last me."
Severus' last words reveal the emptiness of worldly achievements at death.
When Severus, Emperor of Rome, found his end approaching, he cried out, "I have been every thing, and every thing is nothing;" then ordering the urn to be brought to him in which his ashes were to be inclosed, on his body being burned, according to the custom of the Romans, he said, "Little urn, thou shalt contain one for whom the world was too little."
Great statesman Pitt died alone, illustrating the solitude of death for all.
Pitt died at a solitary house on Wimbledon Common. Not far off, by the roadside, stood a small country inn, where the various parties interested in the great statesman's life were accustomed to apply for information, and leave their horses and carriages. On the morning of the 23d of January, 1806, an individual having called at the inn, and not being able to obtain a satisfactory reply to his inquiries, proceeded to the house of Pitt. He knocked, but no servant appeared—he opened the door and entered—he found no one in attendance—he proceeded from room to room, and at length entered the sick chamber, where, on a bed, in silence and in perfect solitude, he found to his unspeakable surprise, the dead body of that great statesman who had so lately wielded the power of England, and influenced, if he did not control, the destinies of the world. We doubt whether any much more awful example of the lot of mortality has ever been witnessed.
Diogenes shows death makes all equal, regardless of status or position.
Diogenes was not in the wrong, who, when the great Alexander, finding him in the charnel-house, asked him what he was seeking for, answered, "I am seeking for your father's bones and those of my slave; but I cannot find them, because there is no difference between them."
Massive battle casualties illustrate the tragic consequences of human sin and conflict.
At Durham, 1346, there fell 15,000; at Haldonhill and Agincourt, 20,000 each; at Bautzen and Lepanto, 25,000 each; at Austerlitz, Jena and Lutzen, 30,000 each; at Eylau, 60,000; at Waterloo and Quatre Bras. one engagement, 70,000; at Borodino, 80,000; at Fontenoy, 100,000; at Yarmouth, 150,000; at Chalons, no less than 300,000 of Attila's army alone! The Moors in Spain, about the year 800, lost in one battle 70,000; in another, four centuries later, 180,000, besides 50,000 prisoners, and in a third, even 200,000. Still greater was the carnage in ancient times. At Cannæ, 70,000 fell. The Romans alone, in an engagement with the Cimbri and Teutones, lost 80,000. The Carthaginians attacked Hymera in Sicily with an army of 300,000 men, and a fleet of 2000 ships, and 3000 transports; but not a ship nor a transport escaped destruction, and of the troops, only a few in a small boat reached Carthage with the melancholy tidings. Marius slew, in one battle, 140,000 Gauls, and in another, 290,000. In the battle of Issus, between Alexander and Darius, 110,000 were slain, in that of Arbela, 300,000. Julius and Cæsar once annihilated an army of 363,000 Helvetians; in a battle with the Usipetes, he slew 400,000; and on another occasion, he massacred more than 430,000 Germans, who "had crossed the Rhine, with their herds, and flocks, and little ones, in quest of new settlements."
### 432. Sieges.
Bones of fallen soldiers were ground into manure, symbolizing the futility of war.
In the year 1830, it is estimated that more than a million bushels of "human and inhuman bones" were imported from the continent of Europe into the port of Hull, England. The neighborhood of Leipsic, Austerlitz, Waterloo, &c., where the principal battles were fought some fifteen or twenty years before, were swept alike of the bones of the hero, and the horse which he rode. Thus collected from every quarter, they were shipped to Hull, and thence forwarded to the Yorkshire bone-grinders, who by steam engines and powerful machinery, reduced them to a granulary state. In this condition they were sent chiefly to Doncaster, one of the largest agricultural markets of the country, and were there sold to the farmers to manure their lands. The oily substance gradually evolving as the bone calcines, makes better manure than almost any other substance—particularly human bones. Some of the good farmers of Yorkshire, were thus perhaps indebted to the very bones of their children for their daily bread! What a commentary on war and military glory does such a fact furnish us. The soldiers of England going forth to fight her battles on the Continent, their blood fattening the fields of her allies, and their bones brought back to fatten the soil of their fathers!
Everything we make is available for free because of a generous community of supporters.
Donate