A dispute has long subsisted between my mortal frame and
death; and though I have long maintained the struggle with a body subject to
disease and pain, I must at last yield to the universal conqueror, and be
led to the house appointed for all living. In a little while, the king of
terrors will advance toward me, harnessed to slay, and I shall not be able
to escape the keen destroyer. But here is the comfort of a Christian—that he
may die, and yet not be hurt of the second death. Yes he may go undismayed
with him who is the terror of kings—as with a conquered foe—and with
cheerfulness view the silent grave. For though his dust rots, yet his hope
shall flourish forever. O what an unspeakable privilege is a saving interest
in the Son of God, whereby death—which sets the world a trembling—fills the
believer's mouth with songs of triumph! Happy would the wicked be—if they
were freed from the fears of approaching death. But this advancing day, when
he departs, to be with Jesus, kindles joy in the believer's bosom.
Reluctant nature, indeed, may struggle in the last
pangs—but opening glories shall scatter every gloom. My relatives may weep
about me—but my soul shall be all harmony within. My body may toss and
tumble on a death bed—but my hope shall be fixed within the veil. Mourning
and weeping may attend my decease—but my departed soul shall soar to
everlasting song. And, while my sad friends inter my lifeless clay, my
immortality shall enter into the joy of my Lord.
Such views as these refresh the expectant of glory; and
whatever clouds may darken his evening sky, yet his state is secure, and he
shall never walk alone, through the dark shadow, the solitary valley of
death. The same divine Savior, who has been a cloud and a shadow to him all
the days of his life, will also be the shining of a flaming fire to him in
the night of his death. Hence death itself, like the cloud of old, when
kindly interposed between fleeing Israel and pursuing Egypt, though it be
terror and darkness to depraved mortals—yet it is joy, light, and transport
to adopted sons.
If, on the approach of the decisive moments, fierce
disease will allow my soul so much tranquility as to think; with what
delight will I bid the world adieu, how will my joys swell to see myself on
the brink of an eternity of glory! And, if I can use my tongue, how shall my
dying breath speak of the excellences of my divine Redeemer, and commend
religion to the sons of men! How shall I expatiate on the bliss, the
entrancing joys found in his presence, even below, when the soul dwells with
great delight under his shadow, and eats his fruits, while paradise blooms
around him! How shall I also endeavor to set forth a little of that
triumphant state that is before the throne!
Then, taking my last, my eternal farewell of all created
things, I shall fix my soul on all the boundless bliss, and everlasting
glory, that is in his presence; and, while he graciously begins to shed
eternal noon about me, shall breathe my soul out among his beams, and rise
in his irradiation to the very throne!