THE
LAST ENEMY;
CONQUERING AND CONQUERED.
BY
GEORGE BURGESS, D.D,
Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church in Maine,
" THE LAST ENEMY THAT SHALL BE DESTROYED IS DEATH.'2
PHILADELPHIA:
PUBLISHED BY H. HOOKER,
SOUTH-WEST CORNER OF EIGHTH AND CHESTNUT STREETS.
1850.




Entered, according to Act of Ccengress, in the year 1850, by
H. HOOKER,
In the Office of the Clerk of the District Court of the United States,
in and for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.




CONTENTS.
PAGR
PROEm,...                    5
PART THE FIRST.
Life,....9
The Tree of Life,...         13
The Sentence of Death,..         17
Number of the Dead,...     21
Period of Death,....25
The First Death,...           34
Death by Murder,.....         40
Death by Massacre,....     46
Death in Single Combat,..                   50
Death in Battle,..                                55
Death by Punishment,.....  65
Death by Sacrifice,....            73
Death by Suicide,...                       77
Death through Eruptions in Nature,...    83
Death by Water,....                87
Death by Poisons,...         92
Death from Atmospheric Extremes,..         96
Death in Infancy,....    100
Death by Pestilence,.~... 105
Death by Casualties,...        110
Death from Defective Organization,.                   115
Death from Diseases incidental to Youth or to Place,.    119
Death in Child-birth,                ~..      122
Death from Sudden Derangement of Vital Parts,.   125
Death from Inflammatory Diseases,... 129
Death from Chronic D-ecay,.                 133
Death from Old Age,.  137
PART THE SECOND.
Essential Nature of Death,... 140
Immediate Cause of Death,...          144
Phenomena of Death,.. 147
Apparent Death,...         152
Corruption of the Body after Death,.. 156
(iii)




iv                       CONTENTS.
PAGE
The Mind in Death,.....   161
Higher Agencies in Death..... 168
Intercourse with the Dead,....   175
Capacities of the Soul after Death,.... 180
Natural Consciousness of a Life after Death,..   185
Heathen Traditions of Life after Death,..        190
Natural Prospect of Death,...        194
Bondage under the Fear of Death,...        198
PART THE THIRD.
Death under the Redemption,.... 202
Anticipation of the Death of Christ,...   206
Circumstances of the Death of Christ,.. 212
Design of the Death of Christ,..              216
Change in Death through the Death of Christ,.. 224
Christian Prospect of Death,....    228
Providences in Christian Death,... 232
Removal of the Fear of Death,.                         237
Conversion on the Bed of Death,.... 242
Diversity in Christian Death, from Difference in Belief,.   246
Diversity in Christian Death, from Temperament and Disease, 251
Conflicts in Christian Death,...           255
Reliance on Christ in Death,....    258
Love- in Christian Death,......                       - 261
Contrite Peace in Christian Death,...        265
Light in Christian Death,.....   267
Last Words of Dying Christians,..               272
PART THE FOURTH.
Transition in Death,.....        276
State of the Just after Death,..                  280
Paradise between Death and the Resurrection,. 285
Resurrection of Christ,...   291
Resurrection of Man in Christ,...        295
Body of Christ after his Resurrection,.                299
Interval before the Final Resurrection,... 303
Promise of the Resurrection,..                  306
Body of the Resurrection,....        311
Death of Death,......   315
The Second Death,...321
Eternal Life,......   325




PROEM.
TIRED with the sultry noonday toil;
I laid me on the grassy soil,
Where stately o'er my head,
An oak's broad branches, with the sound
Of winds on distant errand bound,
Their fanning coolness- spread,
And, glistening through them, far on high,
The summer sun went down the sky.
The strange, low notes that nature blends,
Like soothing words of ancient friends,
Came gently on my soul:
A child once more, I heard the bee,
The bird, the wind, the whispering tree,
And that unearthly harmony
O'er all my senses stole;
Till, stretched along the hillock's side,
I dreamed, and in my dream I died.
With one short moment's bursting strife,
My spirit upward sprung;
But on the verge of either life
Yet one short moment hung:
Above the dead I seemed to bow,
I seemed to touch the clay-cold brow,
And close the fading eye,
And still the murmuring branches stirred,
And, soaring still, the forest bird
Sent out its joyous cry.
1*                   (




PROEM.
But these were like the scenes of night,
While I awoke, and bathed in light
That round me far unveiled to sight
A world all dim before:
And life, as if an inward fount,
O'erflowed me and upbore,
As on light plumes of love to mount,
And journey and adore.
I was as one who on the main,
Has caught and lost a landward strain,
That came, and broke, and came again,
Mid the hoarse billows' roar,
But near as now his vessel floats,
Sound matched with sound, the choral notes
Pour warbling from the shore:
So all which e'er to joy or prayer
Had moved my grateful heart,
Seemed in one glorious hymn to bear
Its own melodious part.
The solemn voice of woods and streams;
The song of evening's fading beams;
The ocean's swell and fall;
And this fair chain of living things,
From glittering clouds of insect wings,
To nations rallying round their kings;
As from ten thousand thousand strings,
One music spread from all:
A strain of glory, heard above;
And heard on earth, a strain of love.
But oh, with what a bounding thrill
I felt the airs that never chill,
The strength that knowsnot years!
No cloud in all the heaven's sweet blue;
No more of doubt, where all was true;
No death, to close the longing view;
No dream of future tears!
The way was passed; and I could stand,




PROEM.                             7
As if on Jordan's farther strand;
As if, the palm-branch in my hand,
The chaplet on my brow,
A wanderer resting at his home,
A pilgrim at the holy dome,
To Zion's mountain I were come
Eternity was now!
Oh joy, beneath the gathered sail,
To hear from far the howling gale,
And feel the haven won!
Oh joy, along the well-fought field,
To see the conqueror's spear and shield
Give back the setting sun!
All, all was mine, and battle's din,
And the wild sea of grief and sin,
No more with morn should yet begin;
For all their work was done.
I took no note of earthly hours;
Alike if months-or moments sped:
I stretched the wing of inward powers,
And far or near might tread:
And now it seemed as I-had bowed,
Where rides in heaven some sabbath cloud,
And still a lingering gaze had cast
On those green vales whose woes were past.
Then forth the fire of gladness broke,
And all my new-born memory spoke,
And all its raptures rushed to meet
In yon best psalm of happiest days,
"c My thought on God shall still be sweet,
And all my being shall be praise."
I praised the Maker's breath thatg'ave
A life that bloomed not for the-grave
I praised the Saviour, that to save
From more than mortal loss,
He was the brother of the slave,
And drank the deep and bitter wave,
And triumphed by the cross:




PROEM.
I praised the Spirit's sevenfold flamne,
That now from all my spirit's frame,
With might that last in death o'ercame,
Had melted all its dross.
", And now, 0 Lord of life," I cried,
" Around me spread, unknown and wide
Thy ways, a pathless sea;
But thy dear love till now is tried,
And I will go where Thou wilt guide,
And where Thou art I dare abide,
For ever safe in Thee!"




THE LAST ENEMY.
PART THE FIRST.
I.
0 O thou great Arbiter of life and death!
Nature's immortal, immaterial Sun!
Whose all-prolific beam late called me forth
From darkness, teeming darkness, where I lay
The worm's inferior, and, in rank, beneath
The dust I tread on; high to bear my brow,
To drink the spirit of the golden day,
And triumph in existence; and couldst know
No motive but my bliss, and hast ordain'd
A rise in blessing; with the patriarch's joy
Thy call'I.follow to the land unknown!"
YOUNG.
THE earliest record in the history of man could come
only from  his Maker.  It is, that the Lord God determined to make man in His own image, "formed him
of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils
the breath of life; and man became a living soul."  His
existence was to be a type and symbol of Deity; but he
had the same body, and the same animal life, with the
beasts, the birds, the fishes, and the insects over whom
he had dominion.  The dust from which he was formed
(9)




10               THE LAST ENEMY.
was not more precious than theirs; and the breath of
life was their possession before he was created.
In fact, the skeleton of- the animal frame is composed
of the- same limestone which is scattered over the earth,
from the depths of ocean to the ridges of the mountains.
It is the beginning of animal structures in the coral and
the shell; and it is the last remnant that is discovered
in graves and catacombs.  The greatgaseous elements,
oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, and carbonic acid, gather
around it, with a little iron, sulphur, and quartz, and
form in such proportions the fibrin of the muscles, the
albumen of the brain. and nerves, the gelatinous substances, and the fat, that of the whole weight of the body,
when its parts are separated, three-fourths are water.
Fearful and wonderful is the mechanism in which these
chemical constituents meet; a mechanism so compact,
so delicate, and so mighty;'capable of being deranged
by a touch, yet equal to the mightiest tasks of action
and endurance.
But the body of man was not formed to excel the
other animal systems in their peculiar glories.  It lacks
the massy strength of -the elephant and the whale: it
cannot rival the muscles of the lion: the antelope and
ther greyhound are far more graceful: man has no
pinions to mount on high: he cannot live in the deep:
the falcon has a keener eye, the grouse a quicker ear,
the dog a more discerning smell, the bat a more susceptible touch; and of all the beasts the most hideous
is that which most resembles him in form, gestures, and
visage. His body, notwithstanding, has been fitted to
be the house of a guest that could dwell in none beside.
It is to stand erect, as becomes the ruler over all other
earthly creatures; the eye can look to heaven; the




.THE LAST ENEMY.                11.mouth is made for speech, the hands for works of skill,;the smooth, uncovered skin for expression and beauty of
a higher kind than that of fleeces or plumes: man most
easily weeps, and man alone can smile.
Into this body, Omnipotence breathed. the breath of
life; that unseen, incomprehensible principle, through
which motion, action, and sensibility began, never to
cease.  Like the tree yielding fruit, whose seed was in
itself, the life of the first man contained in itself the
lives of all future generations. At once the lungs
inhaled.the vital air; the blood ran through the arteries
and:veins; the nerves bore every sensation to and fro;
the muscles moved the whole frame; the heart throbbed
within; the eye had its flash, the cheek its crimson, the
mouth its smile:- man had become a living soul, the
chief of the animal creation. In most languages, the
name of the soul is derived from a word which signifies
wind or breath, as in the Hebrew, the Greek, and the
Latin. For, independent motion is the first and last
token of the presence of animal life, and the breath is
the beginning of independent motion; and there is
indeed a mysterious connexion between life and the
air, a connexion perhaps deeper than that of mere
physical adaptations.  The creature that breathes has
life, and, in the lower' sense, has a soul: but the soul
-of man, which, on the side where it meets the body, is
allied,:but -far, far superior to the life of all other
animals, has also another side, where it meets the Spirit
of God, and becomes itself a spirit. Body, and soul, and
spirit form indeed a threefold division of our nature,
iwhich has been sanctioned by some of the profoundest
thinkers of antiquity,' by early Christian writers, like
Justin and Irenweus, and by the phraseology of St. Paul,




12               THE LAST ENEMY.
who prays that all the three may be preserved blameless.
In this division the second term is employed for that
animal life which uses the organs of sense, and receives
their impressions; and the third for that higher and
more active part or operation of the inward man which
is chiefly the divine image. But in the Hebrew, the
Greek, and the Latin, the name of the spirit is also
derived from words that express a wind or breath; and
therefore, the original signification of soul and spirit is
essentially the same.
It is the spirit, or it is the soul in those higher
properties and acts which give it the name.of the
spirit, that knows, that imagines, that wills; that employs the tongue in speech,- and the whole body in free
and moral action.   When man became-a living soul,
these powers were given to him; and they were given
to no other earthly creature. These are the strength of,his arm, the grace of his figure, the beauty of his countenance; for, if the imagination could quite dismiss
these, the noblest or the loveliest form would but produce
the impression of the tiger or the swan, or, were it possible,-of a majestic or a blooming idiot. But when the
divine breath gave life to the body of man, a spirit shone
in his glance, spoke from his features, and acted through
his free movements.  He alone could know himself,.the
visible world and'its invisible Maker, and ripen for ever
in this knowledge. The moral image of God was in
man alone; and before him was that path in which he
might go on from perfection to perfection. Male and
female were they made, that strength and sweetness
might every where be united in exquisite joy; and that
the broad earth might be replenished and subdued by a
vast family, whose - ancestral home should be Paradise.




be t    trt    Of Tift.
", In this pleasant soil
His far more pleasant garden God ordained;
Out of the fertile ground He caused to grow
All trees of noblest kind for sight, smell, taste,
And all amid them stood the Tree of Life,
High eminent, blooming ambrosial fruit,
Of vegetable gold; and next to Life
Our death, the Tree of Knowledge, grew fast by."
MILTONr.
THE first state of man was one, of which no later
generation could form a just picture or conception. It
was like infancy, which leaves no trace in recollection.
The parents of the human race lived amidst a world of
speaking symbols.  They saw the properties of animals
at a glance; the fit' names came at once to their lips;
and the foundation of all language was laid  in  the
analogies of nature.   The voice of God breathed to
them as distinctly in the garden, in the cool of the day, as
the murmurs of the wind. In the subtlest of all beasts
lurked the presence of -their spiritual tempter, with his
hissing whisper, and his envenomned sting.  The trial
of their obedience, with all its vast issues, was a symbolical transaction.  Amidst all the trees, the fruit of
one was forbidden; and all their happy domain was
held under the tenure of this compliance. One other tree
was made the pledge and means of their perpetual preservation. The Tree of Life was planted in Paradise,
that, eating of its fruit, mankind might live for ever.
2                (13)




14               THE LAST ENEMY.
All the material creation tends to decay, and requires
incessant renewal: such is-.the law of its existence. The
life of man was always sustained, as at this day, by
continual supplies from a Providence, which has scattered over the earth, and gathers to his feet, those
substances whose elementary composition is adapted to
that of his body.  But these supplies could only prevent, from day to day, that incidental decay which would
ensue were the human body separated from any of the
surrounding elements which are necessary to the coninual
renovation of its vital energies.  The great, constant,
essential tendency to decay, under which all bodies,
however nourished, grow old, and at last sink without
disease, and notwithstanding all surrounding elements,
could not be thus removed.  For this, the bounteous
Creator had provided another antidote, in the fruit of
that blessed tree which stood distinct and pre-eminent
amongst all -the growth of the garden. It was ordained
to be the sacramental symbol of immortality; perhaps,
to be even the physical agency through which the decay
of nature should perpetually be counteracted.  The
pulse, which grew cold and languid after the flight of
years, was thus, perhaps, to be quickened and warmed
into more than youthful strength. Or, it may be that
he, who, at an appointed season, should approach and
eat its fruit, was to pass through some gentle transformation, as if from glory to glory. Without dying, the
insect lies down to its chrysalis slumber, and then
spreads its light wings, a beautiful inhabitant of the air.
The bud expands into the blossom, the blossom into thefruit, and yet there is no interval or violence. Two of
the family of men have entered a brighter state of being
without corporeal dissolution.  It may be that the Tree




THE LAST ENEMY.                 15
of Life was not only the pledge but the means of such
a transition, when the time should come to exchange
Eden for some bliss yet nearer to the angels.  These
have been the opinions of wise and holy interpreters.
-" In the other trees," says Augustin, "there was nourishment; but in this a sacrament." - Irenaeus and Chrysostom  suppose that it had a virtue to preserve the
organs in their original state, without disturbance, till
the period of translation.   The words of Gregory
Nazianzen make either the translation, or the perpetuity
of a blissful existence here, the direct consequence of
the taste.'" If we had continued what we were, and kept
the commandments, we should have been what we were
not, by coming to the Tree of Life, being made immortal, and approaching nigh to God."
We can imagine that, had men multiplied in innocence, they might have come from the ends of the earth,
on pilgrimage to Eden. In that pleasant land, the aged,
the ripe, might say, "come and let us go up to
", that sovereign Plant, whose scions shoot
With healing virtue, and immortal fiuit,
The Tree of Life, beside the stream that laves
The fields of Paradise with gladdening waves!"
There they might pluck from its branches, unforbidden
and in safety.  If they returned to their own regions, it
would be with strength renewed like that of the eagle,
for another career; as in the summer of countries that
approach the pole, the sun just reaches the horizon,
and, without setting, ascends anew, so that no night
intervenes between the evening and the morning.  If
they passed into another and a higher being, it would
be as angels have disappeared from the sight of men,
ai,; entered within the glorious veil.  No, thought of




16              THE LAST ENEMY.
suffering would have attended their departure,; and,
perhaps, with the powers of their higher nature, they
would no more have been always absent from such as
they left behind, than the angel visiters, who disappeared,
indeed, but "walked the air unseen," and at times came
visibly again, on messages-of love.




ct p  tntnte Onf Xtat.
"One arrow more,
The sharpest of the Almightyis store,
Trembles upon the string-a sinner's death."
KEBLE.' IT is one thing," says St. Augustin, "not to be able
to die, as God has formed some creatures; another thing
to be able not to die, as the first man was created. Separated from the tree of life, he could die; but if he had
not sinned, he could have been exempt from death. He
was mortal by the constitution of his animal body; immortal by the gift of his Maker."
Placed, for his  trial, under a single prohibition, he
saw before him  the two symbolical trees; and it was
announced to him that, by tasting the one, he must forfeit the right and power to taste the other; that if he would
know evil as well as good by his experience, he must
surrender the peace, the joy, and the very life which
would else have been perpetual. "In the day that thou
eatest thereof," was the divine word, "thou shalt surely'
die."' The name of death was spoken: it was heard in
Paradise: the thought was written on the mind of man,
in characters of fear, and it has never been effaced. In
the present languages of the world, it is a simple, primitive'word: there is no more elementary idea from
which this could have its derivation. Man needed not
to- see' death, that he might feel its horror;' no more than
he needs to see annihilation, that he may shrink from the
2*              (17)




18,              THE LAST ENhkMY.
conception, and rejoice in his existence. He understood
that death was the opposite and the destruction of life;
and life was all which, within him, or around him, moved,
acted, or enjoyed. The sentence which awaited his transgression was, that he should be deprived of his present
blissful being.  As his -body was dust by its original
composition, it would be but dust when its life should
have departed: the elements would claim their portion
in its substance. His spirit, the gift of God, would return to the Giver, subject to His sovereign disposal, tainted by its own guilt, and burdened with His displeasure;
a vessel that, having disappointed the use for which it
was designed, might now be cast aside, and, if it could
not lose its individual existence, could exist only in darkness and woe.
The penalty was vast and- terrible; the more terrible,
were it possible, even for its obscurity. The temptation
was slight, the resistance yet slighter: the simple lie of
the evil one was believed, against the dread word of the
Almighty Father: evil was known as well as good: sin
entered into the world, and death by sin. In that day
man died in effect; for the decree went forth from Him
with whom  to command is to execute  The seeds of
sickness and decay were at once planted in the human
frame; of sickness which would else have been an
unknown thought, and of decay, which the fruit of the
unforbidden Tree of Life would for ever have averted.
Shame and fear accompanied the consciousness of guilt
and the conviction that death was now a reality. In the
very act of sin, our progenitors died to their peace as
well as to their innocence. They now stood before their
Judge, awaiting the fulfilment of the residue of His sentence. The manner was still with Him; they only knew




THE LAST ENEMY.                19
that they were already dying creatures, and that the life
for which they had been formed was already departed.
They now heard the' yet. unknown: process by which
their- death should be made complete; the mighty load
of woes which was bound inseparably to death; the tremendous conflict of which the earth was;to be the battleground, that death might not reach the -spirit; and the
final victory in which death, and he that had the power
of death, should be trodden under foot, notwithstanding
their present triumph.
The sentence which before had been only awful, now
breathed compassion. Its thunders fell upon the head of
the tempter. He, like his poor instrument, the brute serpent, was doomed to make his path in the dust, hated
and hating, and at length to be crushed by the heel of a
human conqueror. A mark of peculiar sorrow was fixed
upon the hour which gives birth to a mortal; a mark,
that should fitly betoken the gateway of a world of tears.
But she who bore it should still be the mother of the living; her desire, submissive but affectionate and full of
solace for her griefs, should be to her husband; and love
and hope were still left to her who had forfeited Eden.
A curse was laid upon the earth, that it might produce
spontaneously the fruits of. death, all noxious and useless
herbs, and only yield to the hard toil of man his necessary food. While he should open its surface, he'was
ever to be reminded, too, that there his own limbs must
find their final rest: but it should still give him abundant
bread; and labour, with all its weariness, would be his
relief and his protection.  After a longer or a shorter
space, thus crowded with anxiety and sorrow, the close
must arrive: the dissolution of his' original state, gradual
as it was, should be completed; and he should return to




20               THE LAST ENEMY.
his kindred dust. But if he had-lost Paradise,,and even
life, through the fraud of the tempter; and if that tempter
was yet to be no victor, but a foe trodden under foot by
the seed of that woman whom he had deceived, this
close itself could be no mere triumph of the author of evil.
The soul, which would not die, might find a release in
death, and the very body, which seemed through the
sentence his inalienable prey, might yet be rescued
through his defeat, and live again.
Hoping, therefore, in the midst of grief, the first man
named the first woman, "Eve," the "living,' as the
mother of all living
", Man is to live, and all things live for man."
But Paradise, however it might be changed, was no
fit abode for those~ to whom the Tree of Life was now
forbidden. To have tasted that fruit, if its original effiect
could now have followed the taste, would have been
only to have made sorrow and sin immortal. Our parents
were, therefore, in mercy as well as in justice, banished
from Eden; and angels and a flaming sword forbade
every presumptuous approach; till Paradise itself was no
more. The flood left no tradition of the time when these
bright guards were last seen by human eyes; and no
mortal beheld when the trees.of the garden, and -with
them that wondrous tree' in their midst, withered away.
Over the soil from which -they grew, and into which, perhaps, they sank, the waters may have spread some plain
of sand, where now- above the wreck of Paradise, some
Mesopotamian caravan, weary with the journey, and fearful of-attack, halts for a night.




IV.
t          _ue numbi    of  t.e-V ab.
", Earth has hosts, but thou canst show
Many myriads for her one!"
CROLY.
THE mind sinks under the number, almost numberless,
of those who have been successively the inhabitants of
this world, and have bowed, in their turns, to the common sentence. Scarce one in many, many thousands,
has left more than the briefest echo of his name; yet of
each it is true that
", He was whatever thou hast been,
He is what thou shalt be."
The present population of the earth is estimated, with
seeming probability; at a thousand millions. Almost six
thousand years are numbered, since the creation. The
first two thousand years embraced about eighteen generations, before the-life of man had its present limits.
During the later four thousand years, three generations
have - lived within each century.  The succession of
generations -may therefore be computed at a hundred
and forty. Of the population of the earth before the flood,
not even the most conjectural calculation can be ventured; but probably the prevalence of ~violence and
crime may have prevented that vast increase, which, in
so long a space, and when the frame so defied disease,
might else have overspread the globe. After the flood,
(21)



22               THE LAST ENEMY.
the Eastern lands, Egypt, Assyria, India, China, were
soon the seats of mighty empires; of which some were
for a time, and others have been to this day, obeyed by
the most compact and multitudinous populations. The
remoter lands were more gradually and more thinly
peopled, and the history of many generations is covered
with impenetrable darkness; but except among "the
wildest barbarians, the population- supposed before
accurate knowledge could be obtained has commonly
been less than that which actually appeared after better
inquiry.  It will not be an extravagant, although an
uncertain computation, if the average number of each
generation be reckoned at one fifth of the present; and
then the entire number would be twenty-eight thousands
of millions. To admit such a number into the imagination, we can conceive that twenty-eight of the chief
empires of'the earth contained each a hundred provinces, and that each of these provinces contained five
cities of the magnitude of London.  These fourteen
thousand Londons could perhaps embrace the armies
of the dead.
The city of Nineveh must' have been inhabited,
through several ages, by more than five hundred thousand persons; and probably its mounds look down upon
what remains of six or seven millions. -A still vaster
multitude is covered by the desolate plain of Babylon.
Not less than fifteen millions of bodies must, in the
space of twenty-five centuries, have been mingled, with
the dust of Christian and Pagan Rome. At least half
as many more must sleep under the new Rome of Constantine.  -Some of the great capitals of the remote
East bury several millions in a century. But, in truth,
the bones of hosts more numerous than ever stood living




THE LAST ENEMY.               23
on one spot have been laid beneath many a fair town
whose inhabitants may scarce ever have thought how
the progress of ages had made their home so prodigious
a sepulchre.  Two millions of skulls are arranged in
the catacombs of Paris.  The ten thousand parishes of
England contain ten thousand churchyards; and the
clay of every churchyard contains a part of thousands
of frames, once warm and buoyant. It is enough to
make the simple comparison between the present population of any old district or town, and its collective
population in all the past; and the mind will grasp the
superior number of the dead beyond the living.
"' All that tread
The globe, are but a handful to the tribes
That slumber in its bosom."
The surface of the earth, so far as it is dry land, is
estimated at nearly forty millions of square miles. If
twenty-eight thousands of millions of inhabitants have
sojourned upon it, and could once more be distributed
over it, every square mile would receive seven hundred
persons. The average population of England is about
two hundred and sixty for a square mile, that of the
whole territory of the United States less than eight.
Could the dead live again upon the earth, they would
make every spot almost three times as populous as the
British isles, and almost a hundred fold more than the
American Republic.
On individuals so numberless the decree that sends
man to his dust has already passed into execution. The
dead exceed fivefold the minutes since the creation;
and in the last hour more than three thousand bodies
must have fallen.. Every year, one individual amongst




24               THE LAST ENEMY.
twenty-seven dies in Russia and in the city of New
York: one amongst thirty in Greece: one amongst
thirty-two in Sicily: one amongst thirty-six in Prussia:
one amongst thirty-nine in France and Holland: one
amongst forty-two in Philadelphia: one amongst fortythree in Belgium: one amongst fifty-three in England.
Till the end of time this mighty train must be swelled
by all who shall live: the extent of the procession can
be known only when it has; completely passed. So
immeasurable has been the triumph of the last enemy
of man, while but those two exceptions forbid us to
name it universal. One was " translated that he should
not see death;" the, other "went up by a whirlwind
into heaven," with -"a chariot of fire, and horses of
fire;" that what, in the last day, shall be seen in millions, might already have been recorded of more than
one.




V.
" As the long train
Of ages glide away, the sons of men,
The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes
In the full strength of years, matron and maid,
And the sweet babe, and the grayheaded man,
Shall one by one be gathered to thy' side,
By those who in their turn, shall follow them."
BRYANTr.
THE period at which man should return to dust was
left under a solemn uncertainty. Time would reveal the
thousand  methods ill which it could be hastened by
every possible agency in earth and air, around and within;
and would fix the limits beyond which, when every hazard
should be escaped, the issue could no longer be delayed.
The utmost length and the average length of human life
were then the secrets of the unfolding future, as now they
are the results of the recorded past.
Amongst those eight antediluvian patriarchs who completed the natural term of their days. he who died youngest was seven hundred and seventy-seven years old, and
he who lived longest was nine hundred and sixty-nine.
It is as if one now alive could have seen the face of one
who had witnessed the crucifixion. Although the years
of Methuselah have surpassed those of every other mortal, yet as Adam  began his existence in fill maturity,
and then lived through nine hundred and thirty years,
the most protracted resistance to decay may thus have
been allotted to the frame of our first father.  So far as
3                (25)




26               THE LAST ENEMY.
life, amongst the wicked of the antediluvian world, was
not extinguished'by violence, the general length of the
days of man must have been ten timesltheir present duration: a space sufficient, had intellectual vigour been
widely developed, to have comprehended the most amazing works of toil and skill, the profoundest discoveries
in science, and enterprises and achievements of magnificence since unparalleled. But that world left neither
pyramids nor books; and if great exploits of intellect
were riot attempted, tremendous, no doubt, must have
been the progress of brutality and crime, when the body
had such might, and when death and judgment were so
distant.'There were giants in the earth in those days, men
of renown; but the wickedness of man was great; all flesh
corrupted his way, the earth was filled with violence, and
that mighty race was doomed to death without posterity.
The descendants of Noah, the second father of- mankind, were permitted to add to that nourishment from the
fruits of the earth,;which'had been assigned to Adam,
the flesh of all animals. But it was not in the design that
new vigour should be given to their bodily system,-which
was rather destined to yield more annd more rapidly, till
their days should at, length be fixed at threescore years
and ten. The. son of Noah died at six hundred>; the
grandson of that son,'at. four hundred and thirty-three;
the grandson of that grandson at two hundred and thirtynine; the patriarch of the third generation after, at a hundred and'forty-eight; and then the ages of Terah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph were two hundred and
five, a hundred and seventy-five, a hundred and eighty,
a hundred and forty-seven, and a hundred -and ten.
When the Israelites wrere in the wilderness,- the common
term  of life was already as brief as now; and though




TIHE LAST ENEMY.              27
Moses lived, with an undimmed eye and with unabated
strength, to a hundred and twenty years, and Joshua
died at a hundred and ten, these were amongst those
extraordinary prolongations of life, of which- every age
has witnessed some examples. That such longevity fell
to the lot of the two great leaders of Israel, was a part
of the wondrous scheme of Providence which guided the
destinies of a chosen nation. Since the days of Jacob,
no authenticated instance remains, of a life that has exceeded a hundred and seventy years. If, amongst African
slaves, or Russian peasants, or Arabian hordes, a greater
age has been ascribed to some venerable remnant of a
past generation, the evidence of records was'wanting,
and the credulity of- barbarism -too easily supplies its
absence. There were in the city of Cairo, in 1800, thirtyfive persons amongst the less indigent inhabitants, whose
years were stated to excee'd a hundred. In Birmingham,
on the contrary, amongst a population of a hundred and
thirty thousand, -only six persons died at that age or
beyond it, within a period of ten years. In a census of
the Emperor Vespasian, a hundred and twenty-four such
persons were found in the region between the Po and
the Apennines. The census of the United States, in
1840, gave of such persons a thousand five hundred and
ten males and a thousand two hundred and fifty-nine
females, amongst a total population of rather more than
seventeen millions. But of these numbers a thousand and
thirty-four males and nine hundred and forty-three females were of African descent, amongst a black population of less than three millions, and may be excluded as
generally ignorant of their own age or of computation.
Seven hundred and ninety-two white persons are then
left, from more than fourteen -millions  or, about fifty in




28               THE LAST ENEMY.
a million, or one in twenty thousand. In London one
infant amongst three thousand lives to complete his hundredth year; in' the Belgic states a careful table gave
less than one-third of that proportion.
St. Polycarp seems to have been one of these exceptions to the common lot; Simeon, the second bishop of
Jerusalem, is said to have reached a hundred and twenty
years; and both died by martyrdom. Many of the saints
and anchorets of the earlier ages are famed for their
length of days: Paul- the Hermit, it is said, lived to be
a hundred and thirteen; his follower, Antony, —to be a
hundred and five, and John the Silent, to be a hundred
and four; the cenobites of Mount Sinai attain not unfrequently an extreme age; and instances, more wonderful
but more doubtful, occur in legendary biographies and
in the tales of travellers. The actor Macklin appeared on
the stage, as Shylock, after he had passed his hundredth
year; and a Baptist minister, in our day, has, at a.hundred and eight, addressed a congregation from the pulpit. Remembering the person of King-Richard the Third,
who fell in 1485, the Countess of Desm: ad lived till, the
reign, of James the First, and died at a hundred and
forty-five. In -poverty and not without viee,' old Parr"
survived till a hundred.and fifty-two.  But-the oldest
man of whom we have sure record, since the patriarchs,
was Henry Jenkins, who died in: Yorkshire- in 1670, at
a hundred and sixty-nine.
This is the utmost limit at which one lone"ly traveller
arrived; while, at less than half- the distance, lies the
common term of vigour and of healthful enjoyment. Our
universal history has followed the saying: of the mournful
prophet, " The days of our years are threescore years
and ten; and if by reason-of strength they be fourscore




THE LAST ENEMY;                29
years, yet is- their strength labour and sorrow." Of all
who are born into the.world, scarce five in a hundred,
it is probable, attain this natural term of their present
being. Amongst all those Jewish kings whose age is recorded, not one survived so long; of the English sovereigns since the Norman Conquest, only three amongst
thirty-four, and these three all of the robust house of
Brunswick; in France, since Charlemagne, only Louis
the Fourteenth, Charles the Tenth, and Louis Philippe.'Under every advantage, the hereditary peerage of the
British realm numbered, in 1840, amongst some five
hundred, and sixty members, one hundred and two who
were beyond the seventieth year; but amongst the fourteen millions who composed the white population of the
United States, there were, of that age, fewer than two
hundred and thirteen thousand.
At less than half of this distance of threescore years
and ten, itself less than half the utmost period of longevity, a majority of the pilgrims have already sunk by the
wayside. Such are the various effects of climate, of the
state of society, and of many accidental causes, on the
duration of life in different lands, nations, and ages, that
its average length for the whole human family cannot with
much accuracy be determined. Buffon placed it just below thirty-five, and supposed that one third-died before
the age of ten.,- Hufeland has reckoned that only half attain even that outer gate of early childhood. In a town
parish of New England, the average, in a computati'h of
some three hundred deaths, was thirty-three; but'two
thirds of those who died before that point died within the
first,).en years of life; and such a result, when compared
witli the great destruction of infancy in regions le-ss favoured; would tend to iustify the calculation of Hufeland.




30              THE LAST ENEMY.
It is not without interest to note the age at which
human beings of different kinds of eminence have closed
their earthly developement. - Amongst the poets, whose
fame is not seldom acquired( early, Kirke White died at
21, Drake at 25, Novalis at 28, Brainard at 32, Otway
and Churchill at 34, Byron at 36, Parnell and Burns at
37, Rowe and Gay at 44, Spenser at 45, Schiller at 46,
Addison- and- Thomson at 47, Cowley at 48, Akenside at
49, Tasso at 51, Shakspeare and Lessing at 52, Gray at
53, Camoens and Alfieri at 55, Dante and Pope at 56,
Prior at 57, Ariosto at 58, Racine at 59, Coleridge and
Scott at 61, Laharpe at 63, Milton at 66, Cowper at
68, Dryden and Petrarch at 70, Mason at 72, Lope
de Vega,, Corneille, Klopstock, Claudius, and Crabbe
at 78, Wieland at 79, Anacreon, Sophocles, and Pindar
about 80, Goetle at 82, Voltaire and Young at 84,
Southern at 86, and the Persian poet, Sadi, it is said,
at 120. Amongst other literary persons, Olympia Morata died at 29, Pico de Mirandula at 31, Mrs. Godwin
at 39, Politiano at 40, Glanvil at 44, Sir William Jones
at 48, Ascham at 53, Herder at 59, Grotius and Richter
at 62, Gibbon at 63, Cervantes and Stolberg at 69,
Selden and Lamb at 70, Locke, Richardson, Thomas
Paine, and Lady Mary Wortley Montague at 72, Cobbett at 73, Johnson at 75, Swift at 77, Lord Bolingbroke
and Lord Orford at 79, Godwin at 80, while Mrs.
Barbauld reached to 81, Mrs. Carter to 89, Hobbes to
91, and Hannah More to 92. Amongst artists, Bewick
died at 35, Vandyck at 42, Vanbrugh at 54, Bacon at
59, Gainsborough at 61, Hogarth at 67, Romney at 68,
Reynolds at 79, Northcote at 85, Nollekens and
Beechey at 86, and Michael Angelo at 90. Amongst
actors, Kean died at 45, Booth at 52, Garrick at 63,




THE LAST ENEMY.              31
Matthews at 65. Philologists, inl their tranquil pursuits,
have often survived to a very ripe old age; for, while'
Ockley died at 42,-Wakefield at 45, and Porson at 49,
Valpy lived till- 62, Joseph Scaliger and Parkhurst till
69, D'Herbelot till 70, Ainsworth till 73, Walker till
75, Cyril Jackson till 77, Castel and Bryant till 74,
Bentley till 80, Morell till 81, Heyne till 82, Markland
till 83, and Pocock and Rennell till -87.  Amongst
antiquaries, too, Ritson was 51, Anthony Wood 63,
Prynne 69, Ashmole 75, Cave 76-, Baker 77, Willis 78,
Stowe 79, Dugdale and Coxe 81, Rushworth and
Whitaker 83, and Pegge 92. Amongst naturalists and
philosophers, Cotes-.died at 34, Pascal at 39, Davy at
50, Tycho Brahe at 54, Saunderson at 57, Bacon and
Boyle at 65, Smeaton at 68, Sir James Edward Smith at
69, Bradley at 70, Flamstead and Gilbert White at 73,
Maskelyne at 79, Plato at 81, Theophrastus, Newton,
Evelyn, Halley, and Hutton, all at 85, Long at 90, Sir
William Herschel at more than 80, and his sister. at 97.
Amongst physicians, Beddoes died at 48, Freind at.53,
Radcliffe, Cheselden and Percival at 64, Sydenham at
65, Fothergill at 68, Jenner at 74, Harvey at 79, Mead
at 81.  Amongst eminent lawyers, Dunning, Lord
Ashburton died at 51,. Lord Nottingham at 61, the first
Lord Shaftesbury at.62, Lord Somers at 64, Lord King
at 65, Hale and Holt at 67, Lord Ellenborough at 68,
Lord Tenterden at 70, Lord Thurlow at 74, Lord Camden at 80, Coke at 84, Lord Eldon at 87, Lord Mansfield
at 88, and Lord Stowell at 91. Amongst divines and
religious writers, President Davies died at 36, Hugh
James Rose at 44, Hervey at 45, Hooker at 46, Toplady
at 48, Oecolampadius, Jewel, and Doddridge at 49,
Mede and Sacheverell at 52, Thomas Fuller, Burkitt.,




32             -THE LAST ENEMY.
Joseph Milner, and Bishop MIiddleton at 53, Samuel'
Clarke at 54, Hammond, Poole, Bingham and Legh
Richmond at 55, Jeremy Taylor, John. Scott, Smalridge
and Whitefield at- 56, Junius and Waterland —at 57,
Cardinal Pole, Donne, and Wilkins at 58,.Bunyan and
Butler at 60, Luther, Heylin, Horne, and Paley at 62,
Melancthon, GaAtrell, and' Kennicott" at 63, Tillotson,
Stillingfleet, and -Dwight at 64, Bernard Gilpin at 65,
Musculus, George Fox, and Herring at 66, Owen and
Seabury at 67, Cardinal Baronius, Claude, Stanhope,
and Drew at 68, Atterbury and Isaac Milner at 69,
Beveridge, Sharp, and Kippis at 70, Bullinger, Paolo
Sarpi,. Cudworth, and Priestley at 71,-Lightfoot, Pearson,
and Potter at 73, Gill, Watts, Jones of Nayland, Thomas
Scott, and Tomline at 74, Sanderson,'Howe, Bull, William Law, and Seclker at 75, Baxter at 76, Lowth,i Porteus and Simeon at 77, Derham at 78, Bellarmine, Tenison, and Bishop Newton at 79, Wake and Emlyn at 80,
Patrick, Warburton, Romaine, and Lawrence at 81, John
Newton at 82, Bishop Law and Lardner at 84, Hoaidley
at 85, Beza at 86, Whitby, Hurd, and Wesley at 88,
Nowell and Bishop Lloyd at 90, and Bishop Wilson at
92. Of the Fathers'of the Church, Basil lived -to be
about- 53, Ambrose about 58, Tertullian about 60,
Chrysostoin 63, Gregory of Nyssa 65, Origen 69, Eusebius and Augustin 76, Athanasius 77, Jerome 89, and
Epiphanius almost 100." Amongst statesmen, Mirabeau- died at 42, Pitt at 47, Halifax at 54, Fox at 58,
Canning- at 59, Lyttelton at 64, Clarendon at 66, Walpole at 69, Chatham and Carnot at 70, Hardenberg at
72, Wilberforce at 74, Talleyrand at 84, and Warren
Hastings at 86. Of illustrious warriors who have died the
death of nature, Hoche was removed at 33, the Marquis




THE LAST ENEMY.               33
of Granby at 49, Davoust- at 53, Massena and Augereau
at 59, Collingwood at 61, Cortez at 62, Anson at 65,
Washington at 67, Suwarrow at 71, Marlborough at 72,
Howe at 73, Rodney at 74, Amherst at 80, Hood at 82,
Townshend and Dumourier at 84. Amongst sovereigns,
Alexander died at 32, Titus at 40, Canute at 41, Napoleon at 51, Henry the Seventh at 52, Charles the Fifth
at 58, Marcus Aurelius at 60, Adrian at 62, Ferdinand
and Isabella at 63, Severis and Henry the First at 65,
Edward the Third at 66, Elizabeth at 68, Vespasian at
69, Tamerlane at 71, Antoninus Pius at 74, Augustus,
and Cosmo de Medici at 75, Richard Cromwell at 86,
and; Artaxerxes MInemon at 94.
The progress of society in cultivation and in the arts of
peace and the science of health, have doubtless postponed
a little the average limit of life.  Its utmost term  is
probably unchangeable; and those examples of longevity
which have approached that term were due to no influence of social improvement.  Ten thousand human
beings set forth together on' their journey.. After ten
years, one third at least has disappeared.  At the
middle point of the common measure of life, but half
are still upon the road.  Fast and faster, as the ranks
grow  thinner, they that remained, till now, become
weary, and lie down, and rise no more. At threescore
and ten a band of some four hundred yet struggles on.
At ninety, these have been reduced to a handful of thirty
trembling patriarchs, Year -after year, they fall in diminishing numbers.  One lingers; perhaps, a lonely
marvel, till the century is over. We look again, and
the work of death is finished.




VI.
"Javan!" said Enoch, "c on this spot began
The fatal curse;-man perish'd here by man
The earliest death a son of Adam died
Was murder, and that murder fratricide!"
MONTGOMEBY.
FROM the author of death came the temptation, and
-man was already so much in the bondage of that mysterious corruption which had followed the great transgression, that the temptation was heard, and actual death
was first introduced in demoniac hatred.  The impulse
of hatred, which is only just when it is turned against
some entirely and irrecoverably evil being, is, to work a
partial or a total destruction.  Life is the utmost which
it is in the power of.man to destroy.- Beasts had been
struck down, and had ceased to exist, before the eyes
of Cain: his hatred moved him to wish that Abel might
thus be destroyed: his arm dealt the blow; and his
brother, like one of the lambs of his own flock, sank in
his blood, and breathed his life away. The murderer was
smitten with desperate horror: he knew, by an inward
instinct, that all men would hold it just to slay him:
but the death by violence, the murder, the fratricide
which he had wrought, could never be retraced, but
was to be the dreadful type of' many future horrors.
For wealth -and rule, Abimelech, the son of Gideon,
poured out on one stone the lives of his seventy brothers,
and gained the horrible distinction of the most enormous
(34)




THE LAST ENEMY.               35
murder in, human history. In revenge for a most unnatural wrong, Absalom commanded his servants to- slay
his brother Amnon, when his heart was merry with
wine. Many a sovereign, especially in the East, has
not shrunk from securing his throne by the sacrifice of
fraternal blood, and this has passed into a proverb,
amongst the Ottomans.  Cambyses, king of Persia,
ordered the execution of his-brother Smerdis, and with
his own brutal foot inflicted a fatal blow on his sister
Meroe. Seven fratricides occurred in the line of Darius
Hystaspes; and three at least amongst the Ptolemies.
M'ithridates began his reign with the slaughter of his
mother and brother.; Tryphena, the wife of Antiochus
Grypus, caused her sister Cleopatra to be slain in a
temple, clasping the image to which she had fled for
refuge.  Onias, the Jewish high-priest, after-being
supplanted by one brother, was slain by command of
another.  Ill the house of Hyrcanus, the Asmonean
prince of Judea, Aristobulus slew Antigonus his brother,
by the hands of his guards; and Alexander Janneus, a
third brother, caused a fourth to be put to death.  Geta
was butchered in the arms of his mother, in the presence,
and by the order of his brother Caracalla.  The ambition of Richard the Third prepared his-way to the throne
by the death of his brother, George, Duke of Clarence,
and of his royal nephews. In humbler spheres, brothers
have been waylaid by brothers for their estates, or struck
down in: wrath or revenge. It has been dreadful, too,
even though the guilt of murder were not incurred,
when one of princely rank, dying for treason, has- been
put to death with the direct consent of one who had
been cradled in the same arms. - Thus, Adonijah died
by the sentence of Solomon; and the name of the




36               THE LAST ENEMY.
Protector Somerset was the first signature to the warrant
for the execution of his brother, Thomas, Lord Seymour.
Less often, perhaps, has a parent thus inflicted death
upon a child; except when some Brutus, or Torquatus,
or Manlius, has nerved himself with the old Roman ferocity of justice. A Spartan woman is related to -have
killed her son for returning safe from a battle, where his
companions fell. It is said that one of the Medici slew,
with his own arm, one of his two sons, who had slain
the other on a hunting excursion.  Herod the Great put
to death the uncle of his much-beloved wife Mariamne;
then, her grandfather Hyrcanus; then, in a fury of
jealousy, Mariamne- herself; then, his own sons by her;
and at last, his son Antipater.
But children have imbrued-their hands in the blood
of parents, even though the conscience of Pagans once
clothed the punishment of parricide with peculiar horrors.  The proud Sennacherib was murdered by his
sons, Adrammelech and Sharezer, while he worshipped
in the temple of his god Nisroch.  Cleopatra;the mother
of Antiochus Grypus, prepared poison for him, which he
compelled her to drink. Bajazet the Second was poisonedcby his son Selim. Through a signal triumph of
the. tempter, aged parents have been left by their children, in savage nations, to die by hunger or by wild
beasts; and little children have been exposed to death
by their parents; and the act has been followed by no
remorse, and perhaps has been deemed religious.  The
king of Moab, in the contest with Israel, offered up his son
for a burnt-offering; and if the daughter of Jephthah was
really sacrificed, her father had borrowed the dreadful
thought from the heathen. Manasseh and the idolatrous
Jews caused their own sons to pass through the fire to




THE LAST ENEMY.                37
Moloch; which, if not a direct immolation, must often,
no doubt, have been fatal.  The ancient Arabs buried
female children alive. An African:tribe buried all their
infants, and adopted the children of their- captives.
The Panches of Bogota destroyed all girls who were
the first-born of their' parents. Iam
tude'qemie4~-xrish, th-at -t-he-anuiathm'nuber
expose&ajn the streets ofe Pekinmby night isestimat4dat
foarL.kous4 -1:;,a olwhoom, with -the, moerni-ng,ighti?-~e
thrw1n?-iving:or. dead,, into the grave.  Along the
Ganges, till the British rule forbade, the mother very often, cast her offspring, to the goddess of the river.  In
New Holland and the Polynesian islands, a large proportion of each generation; in the Society Islands, before
the introduction of Christianity, so large a proportion as
three-fourths, have perished by the parental hand or
direction.   The child of the American Indian was not
murdered, unless in some moment of impatience.
Ties,of remoter kindred have;been severed by the
sword with still less of remorse. Joab, with ferocious
vengeance or envious treachery, slew his two kinsmen,
Absalom  and Amasa, as well as Abner, with his own
hand.  Athaliah destroyed all the seed royal of Judah.
The death of Prince Arthur of Brittany was ascribed to
his uncle, King John; that of Richard the Second to
his cousin who dethroned him; and that- of Henry the
Sixth to his victorious -kinsmen. and supplanters.  The
Italian chronicles, as well as the histories of the East,
are red with these tales of unnatural murder.
As with Herod and with Henry the Eighth, the appetite for blood has found peculiar and horrid satisfaction
in the slaughter of defenceless women.  A brutal jealousy consigned the wretched sultana to the Bosphorus,
4




38               THE LAST ENEMY.
and lifts the club of the coarse village drunkard against
the wife who has borne with his enormities. Nero killed
his wife Octavia, as well as his mother Agrippina.
Amalasuntha, queen of the Ostrogoths, was strangled
in the bath by the order of a husband whom she -had
elevated.  Gonzaga, prince of  Mantua, ordered the
execution of the princess, his spouse; and a prince of
the house of Caraffa slew his wife from jealousy. The
infuriated demon often strikes in his frenzy at the nearest object; and thus it is that, of all murders, that of a
wife or of one who has been admitted to the place of a
wife, is probably the most frequent, as wellas the most
shocking.
Less often has the guilt of the murderess been found
in the bosom of-the wife.  But Alboin, king of the
Lomrbards, was a victim to the revenge of Rosamond,
his queen, for the death of her father; Edward the
Second, was murdered through the instigation of his
"she-wolf" wife; Catharine the Second mounted the
throne over the corpse ofb-her husband; and Mary of
Scotland at least wedded the murderer of Henry Darnley. In common life, the assassin of the husband has
sometimes -been the paramour of the wife; and there
have been instances in our times when a strange thirst
for destruction has been infilsedl by. the devil, and
women have administered poison to one after another
whom they had first allured to the nuptial bed.
But as murder is the terrible exception from common
death, so these are the terrible -exceptions from common
murder. They have been the utmost advances of sin
and death and of their infernal author. Except where
infanticide or'human sacrifice has been a custom, and
except the unlawful offspring destroyed as soon as born,




39                 THE LAST ENEMY.
very few in a million have died bytthe stroke or device
-of brother, or, parent, or child, or kinsman, or consort.
Still, almost every spot has its tate, of some. half-maniac
father who has butchered his whole family as they layasleep, or some frantic mother who has flung child after
child into the rushing stream.- Insanity, with which the
powers of evil seem often- to sport, as with -a fortress
forsaken by its garrison, very often inspires a deadly
purpose towards the nearest objects of love: dark,
dreadful thoughts shoot over the bewildered mind; and,
though the guilt be wanting, the death is sometimes
accomplished.  It is as if it was designed tlhat the first
deathb which befell a human creature, with all its train
of later fratricides and kindred crimes, should tell from
how  terrible a *depth the victory of the seed of the
woman must deliver the victims of sin.




VII.
ueutI hq uvuraev.,cSeest thou that lifeless corpse, those bloody wounds!
See how he lies, who But so shortly since
A living creature was, with' all the powers
Of sense, and motion, and humanity!
Oh, what a heart had-he who did this deed!"
BAILLIE.
APART from the more horrible atrocities of parricide,
fratricide, and the murder of consorts or kindred, a
multitude of men have been slain by the secret assassin,
or the open, infuriated assailant.  Monarchs in their
palaces; chiefs at the head of armies; rich men lying in
their chambers; travellers on the highway; husbands
waylaid by the adulterer; adulterers. in the arms of their
paramours; men whose own crimes have been followed
by the swift foot of the avenger; men -who have been
hated for the strict execution of their duty; men who
have been involved in national, political, or family feuds;
each in the moment when he was most unguarded, have
felt the sudden knife, or club,- or axe, or ball, and fallen
by the malice, the fury, the lust of gold, or the revenge,
of a fellow-man.
The fifth in descent from Cain was Lamech, who was
remembered for those verses in which he owned- that
he had " slain a man to-his wounding, and a young man
to his hurt." It was no'murder, when Eglon died by
the dagger of Ehud, and Sisera by the nail and hammer
of Jael. Whether the arm of the slayer was moved by a
(40)




THE LAST' ENEMY.               41
divine impulse or only by a patriotic determination,
whether the:act could be justified or only excused, the
tyrant who -had. violated every right was the enemy of
all the oppressed people, and had nothing to expect but
from his own strength and vigilance.  Such deeds can
never be imitated under the Gospel; but they are hot
to be read as if we'were reading of crimes. It was otherwise when Ishbosh-eth, as he lay on his bed at noon, was
slain by the two sons of Rimmon, who hurried with his
head across the plain. Four kings of Israel, and, three of
Judah, died through conspiracy. Gedaliah,-the governor
of the conquered -Jews, was murdered by those who had
just eaten his bread; and Hazael, who had just before
recoiled at the prediction of his deed, smothered his sick
and confiding sovereign.
The brother and the son of Alexander the Great were
successively placed on the throne, to fall after a little
while by murder. His, father, Philip-, was struck'by
Pausanias, as,, in great pomp, celebrating the marriage
of his daughter, he entered the theatre. The magnificent
Xerxes was murderred in his bed by-one of his courtiers;
three of his successors were also assassinated; and in the
lines of Syrian, Egyptian,- and Parthian princes, domestic
slaughters were so frequent that the reader is scarcely
shocked by the occurence, in their history, of less unnatural homicides. Scipio the younger was found; apparently strangled, in his bed: Pompey was murdered in a
boat by three- Egyptians, in sight of his wife from whom
he had just parted; and Julius Caesar fell down-at the
foot of the statue of Pompey, stabbed by the daggers of
-,several senators. The Emperor Caligula was pierced'in the
neck by the poniard of one of his officers, as he passed
through a gallery between the- theatre and the palace:
4*




42               THE LAST ENEMY.
Claudius died by poison: the gross Vitellius, dragged
through the streets of Rome, was murdered with many
blows: Domitian was overpowered as he went to dinner:
Commodus, after being poisoned by his concubine, was
strangled by a strong wrestler: Caracalla was. assassinated by a hired soldier, as he paused on a journey: the
firm Galba, the rich Didius Julian, Macrinus, already deposed,- the upright Pertinax, the wretched Heliogabalus
in the arms of his mother, Alexander Severus in his tent,
the gigantic'Maximin, the associates Pupienus and Balbinus, Philip with his young son,- Gallus and Gallienus,
Aurelian and Probus, all were slain by their own soldiers;
Carinus by-a wronged husband; Numerian by his fatherin-law, in his litter: thus died the Pagan lords of the
world. Of the Christian emperors, Constans was put to
death in his bed by a rebellious officer: the second Valentinian was strangled,- the third was murdered in the
midst of his capital: Maurice was cruelly destroyed with
his children: and so. died by the sword of the assassin,
or by poison, Phocas, the murderer of Maurice, the second Constantine, the second Justinian, Constantine the
Sixth, Leo- the Armenian, Michael the Third, Romanus
the Second and the Third, Nicephorus and Alexius they
Fourth. Omar, Othman, and Ali, the second, third,
and fourth, successors of Mahomet, all perished by the
poniard; and so died, or by the bowstring, many a later
caliph and sultan, In the earlier history of the modern nations of Europe, murder was as commonly the end of royalty. King Edmund the elder fell'by the hand of a robber
who had boldly sat down at his board, and then, having
provoked him to seize him by the hair, stabbed him to
the heart. Edward the Martyr-was murdered at the instigation of his stepmother, Elfrida; Edmund Ironside




THE LAST ENEMY.               43
by two of his chamberlains. The murder of Duncan by
Macbeth is no tragic fiction. The Emperor Albert was
stabbed by his nephew, in the presence of his court, on
the baiik of the Reuss. Henry the Third of France was
pierced in his palace by the dagger of Jacques Clement;
Henry the Fourth in his carriage by Ravaillac. William,
the great, Prince of Orange, fell by the hand of an enthusiast. In the civil wars of France, the heads of the royal
houses of Orleans, Burgundy, and afterwards of Guise,
were successively destroyed by: mutual treachery. Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, was found dead in his bed
by violence. Galeazzo Maria, Duke of Milan, was assassinated as he entered a church in solemn procession;
Giuliano de Medici just as the host was lifted: Becket
was hewn down at the foot of the altar. Cardinal Beatoun was murdered by several conspirators in his chamber. The Regent Murray was shot from a window, as he
rode through Linlithgow. From the feet of Queen Mary,
Rizzio -was dragged into a neighbouring room, and despatched with many wounds. Wallenstein was'assassinated,: with thle approbation of his emperor. Pizarro, too,
was murdered. A stab in the breast from a man of maddened mind destroyed the great Duke of Buckingham,
the favourite of two kings. Monaldeschi, the supposed
paramour of Christina, was slain by her order in the gallery of Fontainbleau, and almost in her presence. Cardinal Bambridge, Sir Thomas Overbury, and Ainsworth,
the Puritan divine, were poisoned. Archbishop Sharp
was surprised on a moor, dragged from his carriage, and
butchered before the eyes of his daughter. Gustavus the
Third was shot in the groin, at a masquerade, with a
pistol loaded with slugs or nails. The Czar Paul was
assaulted and strangled.  The Duke of Berri, son of




44               THE LAST ENE1MY.
Charles the Tenth, was killed in the heart of Paris. An
infernal machine, discharged from a window as Louis
Philippe rode by with his train,' destroyed instantly the
Duke of Treviso, and -other officers. Of all assassinations,
that one which-the mind recalls with least pain, was
when the monster Marat, in his bath,. was struck to the
heart, by the knife of Charlotte Corday; and one of the
saddest was when a frenzied wretch, on the steps of
Westminster Hall, shot down the excellent minister
Perceval.
The name assassin is derived from a tribe. who inhabited Mount Lebanon and some other regions of the
East, in the days of the- Crusades, and obeyed a chief
who sent his emissaries Wherever he would, against his
enemies, without the possibility of'defence. By the
stroke of one of them died Louis of Bavaria; and Conrad,
Marquis of Montferrat, was murdered by one, in the very
street of Sidon. But the most amazing and horrid of all
systems of murder, exceeding the combined operations
of all the bandits of all ages, has been the long concealed
union of the Thugs- of Hindostan; whose. life, whose delight, whose glory, and whose worship consisted in the
secret, remorseless destruction of defenceless travellers
by strangling.  Their antiquity was unknown; their
cruelty was uniform; and many thousands must have
been their victims. The glimpses of savage history which
can be won, disclose innumerable murders in wild lands;
the proofs.of an-almost inconceivable amount of bloodshed which has cried from the ground, in spots whose
history -has never been told. Amongst nations not simply
barbarous, the avenger of blood has, from the beginning,
assumed the task of executing the doom ordained for
the murderer; and bloody feuds have passed from




THE LAST ENEMY.                45
fathers to sons, and from families to tribes. Spain, Italy,
and-the East, have been the chief scenes of those private
assassinations, which, in a more advanced condition of
society, have been prompted by revenge, pride, or the
love of gold. In- Spain, in the year 1826, twelve hundred
an'd thirty-three persons were convicted of' murders.
Death by murder is, in Northern and Christian lands, the
rare work of a peculiar atrocity of mind. Still, our own
age has seen. the ruffian, plunging his blade into the
breasts of a whole family; the youth stabbing the old
man in his midnight sleep:; the mistress, torturing her
servant till death was the release; the poisoner, gaining
a kind of fiendish delight in her trade, till her victims
were a numerous company; and the loathsome monsters, who, for -the price of a dead body in the schools of
anatomy, smothered their unhappy associates. If, in the
most favoured regions of the earth, all those be numbered
who die by wilful, private'violence, they are probably
more than one in                        a hproportion
which would yield from the present population of the
globe the number of ten thousand. But when the condition of all the earth is'weighed, we shall deem a tenfold estimate small; and the murdered of all times may
be millions.




VIII.
", Tumultuous murder shook the midnight air."
CAMPBELL
THE terrible sight of a multitude of human beings
slain without' armed resistance has been sometimes
witnessed- by indignant angels.  This is not the indiscriminate slaughter of ancient war, when the whole
population that could not flee was often destroyed; nor
the relentless bloodshed, which in later times may have
followed a hard victory; but it is that deliberate extirpation, that vast execution, which, if it cannot be justified as punishment, is massacre.
When all the Canaanites who withdrew not from the
armies of Israel, were slain, it' was by the express command of the Creator of all; and, it was for their dreadful
and unnatural iniquities.  When Elijah slew hundreds
of prophets of Baal, it was an execution of the national'
and the divine law, and was sanctioned by stupendous
miracles. Seventy'sons of Ahab were put to death by
Jehu; but he had a commission from heaven.  When,
however, he.gathered a company of the worshippers of
Baal within a temple at Samaria, and slaughtered them
there, his commission from above certainly comprehended
not his bloody treachery.  The Spartans perfidiously
massacred two thousand Helots, who had served bravely
in the wars of -Sparta, and were therefore feared as
slaves. Fourteen hundred Athenians were butchered
(46)




THE LAST ENEMY.                47
on one spot by the Thirty Tyrants.  On a tumult
amongst the Jews at the passover, Archelaus sent out
his troops,. and, slew three thousand around the temple.
Before the last Jewish war-began, the Syrians in differ.
ent cities arose and massacred of the doomed nation, in
Cwesarea "twenty thousand, in Scythopolis thirteen thousand, in Askelon two thousand and five hundred, in Ptolemais two thousand, while, if indeed the large -numbers
of Josephus be not habitual exaggerations, fifty thousand
of the slain were heaped up at Alexandria.   The
slaughter of the Jews by Vespasian and Titus was the
result of an obstinate war -and an indomitable resistance.
Five days and nights the soldiers of Mlarius murdered
at pleasure  throughout the streets of Rome; but the
speedy retribution of his rival Sylla was yet more terrific.
Sylla assembled seven thousand of the opposite faction,
and caused them  to be put to the sword', in the circus;
while, within the sound of their cries, he completed:his
stern harangue to the senators.  Then, he prepared his
list of proscription; and five thousand. more fell by the
stroke of any-blade that would-strike an: outlaw. From
a secure place at Alexandria, Caracalla directed the
massacre of many thousands of strangers and citizens.
Offended by the mutinous fury of the populace of Thessalonica, the Emperor Theodosius the Great, admirable
as he was, adopted a fatal resolve..The message sped;
the retraction was too late; and without discrimination
of age, sex, or character, seven thousand persons, assembled in the circus, were slain with promiscuous butchery.
Well might Ambrose repulse the -bloodstained sovereign
from the altar of the Prince of Peace, till he had proved
his bitter penitence, and enacted a law which made such
haste to shed blood impossible.  The Caliph Abdallah,




48               THE LAST ENEMY.
after the treaty with the Ommiades -princes, assembled
them, _to the number -of eighty, slew them with clubs,
spread a carpet over their bodies, and made a banquet
on the spot. The Sicilian Vespers, on the eve of
Easter-day, in 1282, were a tumultuous. onset of the
maddened natives of the island upon the French undler
Charles of Ahjoun; and the Italian rage was not-appeased
till the seven thousand Frenchmen who were in Sicily
lay in their blood. The Burgundian faction in Paris,
under the reign of Charles the Sixth,' surrounded the
Chatelet, called forth  the two thousand Armagnac
prisoners, one by one, and beheaded them  as they
issued from the door. After more than three centuries,
the same scene was repeated in the same city, when the
murderers stood at the door of each prison; -eight thotusand men and women were struck down with pikes and
swords; hundreds of priests perished; and the head of
the beautiful Princess de Lamballe, its tresses draggled
in gore, was lifted on a pike to the window of the
imprisoned Louis. In the massacre of St. Bartholomew,
and the subsequent slaughter throughout many cities of
France, fifty thousand Protestants are said to have been
slain in cold blood; the foremostof all, the good Coligny.
England has scarcely witnessed a massacre: the slaughter of Glencoe extended to less than forty.  But in
France, during the Revolution, an almost undistinguishing cruelty was often let loose: seven hundred priests
were butchered at.Nantes: hundreds of victims were
placed in rows at Lyons, and cannonaded: hundreds
were drowned in the Loire; and many thousands were
shot after the suppression of the Vendean insurrection.
Slavers have thrown overboard whole scores of sickly
negroes; but in the Haytian revolt a nation of untaught




THE LAST ENEMY.              49
slaves took dreadful vengeance for the oppression of
their race; and thirty thousand whites were slaughtered,
many in their own halls and gardens. On the sandhills
near Jaffa, Buonaparte shot a small army of Turkish
prisoners, whom he could not feed, and dared not
release. When Mohammed Ali of Egypt wished to
shake off the troublesome MIamelukes, who had been so
terrible, he looked on while five or six hundred, pent
within a large court, were laid in their blood, one only
leaping his horse over the barrier. The slaughter at
Scio aroused the sympathies of all, Christendom. But
no bloodshed related in history was like that where the
Sultan M/iahmoud destroyed the whole army of his
janizaries, whose strength threatened his throne. Thirty
thousand were inclosed within walls, in one dense mass,
through which his cannon ploughed, till all was over.
Yet Timour built pyramids, of seventy thousand. skulls
at Ispahan, and ninety thousand at Bagdad.
Asia and Africa could'furnish many of _thse awful
tales of cruelty. So have hundreds of thousands died;
and each death had all from which man shrinks in agony.
When a single person like Hypatia, or Vitale Michieli,
doge of Venice, or James Van Artevelde, or Delaunay,
or Dewitt, or Marshal Brune, or Basseville, or like so
many in the earlier days of the French Revolution, has
been torn in pieces by the crowd, or hurried to the
lantern, we seem to feel all-which is possible. The
mind is stupified by the horrors of those'scenes, in
which one such death has been many thousand times
multiplied.
5




IX.
etal   in X        ingte     (luat
" For double murder armed, his own, and his
That as himself he was ordained to love."
POLLOK.
MEN have fallen in single combat with their fellowmen, in a manner which has partaken of the several
characteristics of war, murder, and suicide.; It has been
like war, because there was mutual hostility; it has been
like murder, so often at least as- it was in private. quarrels, and in violation of the laws; and it has been like
suicide, because the exposure to death was voluntary
and needless.
At first, all single fights could have been no more than
parts of more general war, or else attempts to- murder
which were met by armed resistance. These were afterwards imitated in games; and then at length the imitation itself, for more intense excitement, grew  into a
bloody contest. Through six centuries, gladiatorial combats were held at Rome and other great cities of the
Roman dominion. Julius Caesar, when he- was edile,
exhibited more than six hundred combatants; and on
a single occasion, Trajan brought out ten thousand. All
were compelled to fight to the last; and if one was borne
to the ground, and quite overcome without a mortal
wound, his life depended upon the caprice of the people
or emperor, to whom the victor looked for the sign to
(50)




THE LAST ENEMY.                 51
spare or to slay. Christianity by degrees abolished a diversion worthy of demons; but an Asiatic monk, Telemachus, was first the martyr of humanity. He threw
himself between the gladiators, and was overwhelmed
beneath a shower of stones. The Emperor Honorius
then decreed that these sports should exist no more;
and as the decree was not always observed, they were
finally suppressed by Theodoric.
The idea of combats for the decision of individual
guilt or innocence, honour or dishonour, is of later origin.  It sprang up in the dark ages, amongst nations
trained to arms, addicted to superstition, standing betWeen the ancient and the modern civilization, and too
little able to appeal from violence to independent tribunals of justice; and it was connected, too, with the
half sportive and half earnest exercises in the lists which
were the amusement of such nations. The trial by combat was an appeal to the God of battles.  Both the accuser and the accused, or his champion, were supposed
to offer themselves, as if to the immediate realization of
their oath;, And as I truly fight, defend me- Heaven!"
But the test was unauthorized; and the slaughter may
have been indiscriminating. Such trials and such deaths,
however, were probably rather noticed for their interest
than for their frequency.
Sometimes, in the less serious encounters of the tournament, one of the champions might receive a fatal fall
or blow; as Henry the Second of France was mortally
wounded by the lance of Montgomeri, which pierced
his eye.  Sometimes, in the rude struggle of'boxers, an




52               THE LAST ENEMY.
unfortunate man, fighting with blind desperation, has
been beaten till life itself gave way. But these were accidents: the sports, however perilous or-barbarous, were
not designed to destroy.
The modern duel has been the -offspring, on one side,
of the trial by arms; on the other, of the brutal yet playful contests of chivalry. A revenge only satisfied with
blood has often armed the challenger. In a public duel,
the celebrated Chevalier Bayard slew a Spaniard, piercing his throat with his sword, and, when they were down,
driving his dagger into his eye and brain. The most recent times, permitting duels, if at all, only to prove the
honour by proving the courage of both antagonists, have
made th-em a kind of infernal mockery, in which lives
have been thrown away with reluctance on both sides,
because neither could defy the'contempt of the contemptible. Happily, such deaths have been confined to a
limited sphere; composed chiefly of the more- -boisterous
amongst military men, and of a particular class of poli-.
tical leaders and public characters. In the reign of James
the- First, the two sons -of Lord Wharton and Lord
Blantyre fell by the hands, of each other at Islington;
and the Earl of Dorset and Lord Bruce fought with
swords under the walls of Antwerp, till Bruce fell down
dead, and his opponent was borne wounded'to a neighbouring monastery. In 1712, the Duke of Hamilton met
Lord Mohun, whose hand was already red with other
blood: they fought in'Hyde Park, and both were fatally
wounded.. Forty years before, the profligate Duke of
Buckingham slew the Earl of Shrewsbury, whose wife
was his paramour, and was said- to have held his' bridle
during the combat.  One of the Lords Byron slew his
neighbour in a quarrel rather than a duel; and the death




THE LAST ENEMY.,               53
of the duellist closed the dissolute lives, in 1804, of
Lord Camelford, and in 1809, of Lord Falkland. So died,
too, Sir Alexander Boswell, the son of the biographer
of Johnson; John Scott, an ingenious writer; and Pushkin, a distinguished poet of Russia. Ireland has been
fruitful in such crimes: one Fitzgerald, who was hanged
at last, had the bad eminence of having destroyed more
lives in: duels than any of his contemporaries. Men fell
by the pistols of future judges; and the blood of an adversary left a stain of remorse on the conscience of such
a man as O'Connell.  In America, it must have clung
painfully to theinemory of Jackson in the devotions of
his old age. Many have been these scenes of useless.
death on the soil of the republic. So fell one of the
signers of the Declaration of Independence; so, the
gallant, unreflecting Decatur; and so, by the shot
of the vilest man remembered by American history,
died Alexander Hamilton; just as his son had died
before.
The savage encounter which knows no rules, such
as is seen in the south-western portions-of the United
States,,is the mere warfare of murder and self-defence,
hut of a self-defence that is generally not unwilling to
become murder.  It is horrible enough that our age
should have invented the Bowie knife and the revolving pistol. It is more horrible that in the streets, in
houses, even in the seats of law and justice, they have
been drawn and wielded with fatal ferocity, by the
men of Virginia, Kentucky, and Arkansas.  The whole
number of the victims of single combat in all ages
is not vast; but if only a hundred in a year should
thus perish throughout the world, many thousands
must have been added, and with a -terrible guilt of




54                THE LAST ENEMY.
their own, to the company of the murdered: besides, the many thousands, who fell under the-test of
a mistaken ordeal, and the hosts of wretched gladiators,
", Butchered to make a Roman holiday."




x.
X iitr   in   TaffttIt.
~" Last noon beheld them full of lusty life,
Last eve iu beauty's circle proudly gay:
The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife.;
The morn, the marshalling in arms; the day,
Battle's magnificently stern array:
The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent,
The earth is covered thick with other clay
Which its own clay shall cover; heaped and pent,
Rider and horse, friend,'foe, in one red burial blent."
BYRoN.
WHEN men became tribes and nations, the danger of
national contest arose: the utmost height of contention
would be war; the utmost point of war would be battle;
the utmost point of battle, death. The superior authority
of laws might restrain the strife of individuals; but for
nations, commonly, there has been no higher tribunal
on earth.  They have taken up arms: every age has
had its wars: and to the traveller along the road of
history, tales of battles are like  vast and  frequent
mounds, marking the distances, but at'the same time
covering the bones of armies.
Many of the more barbarous tribes have lived in such
perpetual warfare, that a fourth or even half of their
mature male population may have died by the weapons
of their enemies.  The islands of the Pacific, the forests
of America, the almost unknown heart of Africa, have'
been the scenes of ten thousand unrecorded conflicts;
and such must have filled many of the more favoured
(55)




56                  THE LAST ENEMY.
lands at periods of which no history is left.  The little
that we know of countries like Japan, Madagascar,
Abyssinia, and many portions of the East, is but a story
of revolutions and slaughter. Historic wars begin with
those of Nimrod, c" a mighty one on the earth" within
two or three centuries after the flood, the founder of the
great empire- of Assyria. A century or two later, the
combat of four kings against five in the vale of Siddim
was doubtless but one amongst many struggles of inferior princes.  Nine hundred years after the deluge,
the Israelites conquered Canaan: every step was a battle.
Perhaps it was in the next century that twenty-five thousand men of Benjamin, with their households, almost all
the tribe, perished in a contest with the other tribes, in
which the victors also lost forty thousand. - In the next
century, as is probable, ten thousand Moabites fell before Ehud; and-in the next, the host of Sisera before
Barak, and the vast array of the Midianites before " the
sword-of the Lord and of Gideon."  The next century
witnessed the wars of Jephthah, when forty-two thousand
Ephraimites were cut off, and those, between Israel and
the Philistines, when thirty thousand Israelites- fell in
one disastrous day. Not far from the same period was
the siege of Troy; and then, in the eleventh century
before the Incarnation were the wars of Saul and -of
David.  In the tenth century are placed the mighty
expeditions of Sesostris, and the wars between Abijah
and Jeroboam. The ninth beheld the battle of Ramothgilead, and the hostilities between Syria and the ten
tribes of Israel.  In the eighth, the Assyrians extended
their conquests, and swept those tribes away; while the
first Messenian war introduced the drama of authentic.
Grecian history.  The seventh was the period of the




THE LAST ENEMY.                 57
second Messenian war, of the great contests between
Media and Assyria, of the overthrow of Nineveh, and
of the fall of Josiah at M/Vegiddo, while he placed himself between the hostile Babylonians -and Egyptians.
In the sixth, lie the conquests of- Nebuchadnezzar and
of Cyrus. The fifth opened with the Persian war in
Greece, and closed with the Peloponnesian. The fourth
was the time of the expedition of the younger Cyrus,
the whole -career of Philip and Alexander, and the
irruption of the Gauls into Italy. In the third were the
wars of Pyrrhus, and the first two of the great struggles
between Rome and Carthage; in the second the wars
of the Greek kings in Syria, and of' Perseus, the third
Punic wvar, and the Cimbric; in the first, those of Marius
and Sylla,-of Mithridates, of Pompey, of Cwesar, and of
Antony and Octavius.   The first century after the
Christian era embraced the German wars of Rome, the
Jewish, and the civil strife between the soldiers of
Otho, Vitellius, and Vespasian; the secondi the'wars
of Rome against the Dacians, the Parthians, and the
Marcomanni, and those of Severus'for his crown; the
third, a succession of revolutions, and a perpetual
series of hostilities all along the- frontiers of -a tottering
empire; the fourth, the successes of Constantine, and
the wars of Julian against the Persians, and of Valens
and Theodosius against the Goths;' the'fifth, the destructive march of Goths, Huns, Vandals, of Alaric, -Attila,
Genseric, Hengist, Clovis; thle sixth, the campaigns of
Belisarius, Totila, and Narses; the seventh, the contest
of Chosroes and Heraclius, and the first, wide victories
of the Saracens; the eighth, the subjugation of Spain
by the- Moors, their check by Charles Martel, and the
wars of Charlemagne; the ninth, the inroads of Normans




58                THE LAST ENEMY
and Danes; the tenth, the ravages of the Hungarians, and
the wars of Otho the Great; the eleventh; the Norman
conquest, the victories of the Turks, and the first crusade;
the twelfth, the Turkish conquest of Egypt, and the second and third crusades; the thirteenth, the conquests of
Genghis Khan, and the fourth and fifth crusades; the
fourteenth, the wars -of the English in -Scotland and
France, and the -career of Timour; the fifteenth, the
wars of Henry the Fifth, those of York and Lancaster,
the Bohemian struggle, and the capture of Constantinople
by the Turks; the sixteenth, the  wars of the French in
Italy, of the Spaniards in America, and of the Roman
Catholics and Protestants in France and Germany; the
seventeenth, the civil wars under Charles the First, the
Thirty Years' War, and many of those which issued from
the ambition of Louis the-Fourteenth; the eighteenth,
the wars of the Spanish succession, of Charles the
Tlwelfth, of Frederick of Prussia, and the French
Revolution, as well as the loss of America to Britain,
and the conquest of India; the nineteenth, the bloody
empire of Napoleon, and now the Austrian campaigns
of Radetzki and Jellachich.. These wars very much
compose the history of the civilized world; the uncivilized world has been one confused mass of perpetual
slaughter.  To reckon the proportion of mankind that
have perished in consequence of-the ravages of war
would be, if it were possible, a work that might daunt
the imagination. Even the number that includes only
such as have fallen' in actual and recorded battles,
though it may be expressed in figures, leaves no distinct conception, from its prodigious magnitude.
When Absalom fought against the army of David, there
was a slaughter of 20,000 men. When Jeroboam and




THE LAST ENEMY.               59
Abijah met on Mount Zemaraim, there fell down slain
of Israel, unless an- error has found its way into the
copies of numbers in the sacred text, no less than half
a million. In that battle in which the ark was taken,
30,000 fell with Hophni and Phinehas. At Marathon,
the number of the dead scarcely reached  7000; at the
pass of Thermopylae it was more than 20,000; while of
300,000 Persians who fought at Plataea, it is said that
only three thousand survived. On the plain of Issus
100,000 dead, and at Arbela 300,000, are enumerated
as a part of the price with which- Alexander won the
dominion over Persia. In the great battle of Ipsus, where
Antigonus sank under a shower of: darts, 30,000 of his
army must have been left with him upon the field. On
the bank of Lake Thrasymene, 15,000 Romans were
slaughtered, and 70,000 on the fatal day of Cannre. In
the battle of -Miunda the younger Pompey lost 30,000;
Hannibal 20,000 at Zama; Antiochus 54,000 at Magnesia; Perseus 25,000 at Pydna; 100,000.subjects
of Tigranes fell in one battle against Lucullus; 15,000
Romans died at Pharsalia.  The two legions of Varus,
that were utterly cut to pieces in Germany, must have
contained more than thirteen thousand men. Of the
1100,000 Jews who perished in their struggle against
Rome, a vast proportion were slain in the siege of their
sacred city. At the victory of the second Claudius at
Naissus,,50,000 men perished: in the unfortunate battleof Adrianople, 60,000 died with Valens. When Aetius
delivered the world from the terror of Attila, 162,000
are said to have covered the field of Chalons. How terrific must have been the bloodshed of that battle of
seven days, in which Spain was lost by the Goths, and
won by the Mussulmen!  How terrific that resistance




60              THE LAST ENEMY.
of Charles Martel at Poictiers, from which, after a century of victories, the Saracen -hosts at length withdrew!
At the battle of Fontenai, fought between the four sons
of Louis the Debonnair, 40,000 were slain; at the -vic
tory of the Emperor Henry the Fowler over the Hungarians near lMerseburg, 36,000; at Simancas, Ramiro the
Second destroyed 80,000 Moors: probably 30,000 men
fell when Jerusalem-was taken by the Crusaders; and
Richard Coeur de Lion slew 40,000 Saracens under Saladin, on the shore by Ascalon. The battle of Hastings
strewed the English coast with 40,000 bodies; at Crecy
40,000 Frenchmen fell, and 15,000 at Agincourt; at
Halidon Hill, 30,000 Scots; at Durham, 15,000; at Flodden, a host even of knights and nobles. Marignano was
the field of death to 40,000; Towton, to 36,000; Ravenna, to 18,000; 20,000 perished at Neerwinden; at
least 15,000 at Blenheim; 15,000 at Ramillies; 5000
at Almanza; 30,000 at Malplaquet; 9000 Swedes at
Pultowa; 17,000 on both sides at Fontenoy; 20,000 at
Colin; 30,000 at Cunnersdorf; 15,000 at Austerlitz;
8000 at Friedland; 8000 at Jena; 50,000 at Eylau;
13.000 at Aspern; 60,000 at Borodino; 15,000 at
Talavera; 10,000 at Lutzen; probably 30,000 at Leipsic; probably 30,000 at Waterloo; and as many as
30,000 in the British battles on the Sutled-ge. When
the Saracens first took Jerusalem, 90,000 Christians are
said to have perished; 65,000 Mussulmen in the contests
between Ali and the Caliph of Damascus; 150,000 natives at the siege of Mexico by Cortes. In rather more
than sixty chief battles, almost three millions of men are
numbered as the victims. But the whole carnage of the
wars of Caesar has been commonly estimated at two
millions; and as many lives must have been shortened




THE LAST ENEMY.               61
through the selfishness of Napoleon. The forces engaged in sea-fights have been smaller than those in actions on the shore, and the lossifar inferior; but death
in such strife has a form peculiarly appalling to the imagination; and sometimes the slaughter has been awful,
in comparison with the theatre of the conflict. In- the
celebrated battle of Lepanto,-40,000 perished;;5000
Pisans fell, in 1284, in a sea-fight with the Genoese;
5000 died at Actium; 5000 at Navarino; and full 15,000
at Aboukir. The Earl of -Sandwich, in the time of
Charles the Second, fought his ship till out of its thousand defenders six hundred lay dead upon the deck;
and at Aboukir the ship of the French admiral blew
up with all who were aboard.
So many millions, and millions more, have fallen by
the several weapons which human skill has devised for
mutual destruction. The club or mace of knotty wood
was first, like that which felled Magellan or Williams,
on the Polynesian -islands.  Then. came the bow and the
arrow, sometimes dipped in poisonous juices.  Saul,
Ahab, Jehoram, and Juliannwere mortally wounded by
the arrows of the East; and the -Duke of Norfolk -fell at
Bosworth Field, and the greatest princes of France at
Crecy and Agincourt, the Dukes of Brabant, Bar, Alencon,
and the Constable d'Albret, by the bows of the English
archers. A stone, hurled -even by the hand of a woman,
broke the skull of Abimelech; but the small stone in the
sling, like that which entered the forehead of Goliath,
was.one of the most fatal weapons of ancient war. The
dart, like those with which Joab pierced Absalom through
and -through; the short javelin, like: that which remained
in the wound of Epaminondas, till he heard that his
victory was secure, and with which his life then issued
6




62               THE LAST ENEMY.
forth; the longer spear or lance, like those which Arnold,
de Winkelried gathered into- his own-body, when he
made a way for his followers through the hostile spearmen; the battle-axe, with which Clovis hewed down the
second Alaric in battle, and two captive princes; the
Saxon hammer; the pike, with which the Irish insurgents
pierced Lord Kilwarden in his carriage; the bayonet, commonly destined for the humbler breasts of the common
ranks on the field; thp universal sword, struck by which, in
fourteen or fifteen places, Gaston de Foix fell at Ravenna;
and the dagger of closer warfare, and for the final blow:
all these are one formidable class of instruments of death,' the murderous steel.' - A shot from an engine gave
the death-blow to Richard the First of England; a stohe
from the machines of the besiegers of Jerusalem struck
down that awful person who went about its streets for
months, crying, "Woe! woe!? The introduction of
gunpowder-brought in more distant, and, to the inflicter,
less horrid means-of death-but to the sufferer, more
sudden, and often more ghastly. Some, like Nelson, or
Marceau, or Joubert, fall by the steady bullet of the rifleman-or like Benyowsky, or like Abercrombie, by that
of the musketeer; others, like Moore, or Bessieres, or.Duroc, or Brueys, or Sale, by the shattering, grape which
lays open their vitals.  The great Duke of Berwick andc
Prince Francis of Brunswick were killed by balls which
struck off their heads; a smaller ball struck Charles the
Twelfth in the temple; Dampierre died after losing a leg
by a cannon-ball; Turenne was killed by such a ball;
and both Moreau and Lannes lost both their legs, and
survived a few hours. Mounting the wall of RomIe, the
Constable Bourbon was struck by a ball from an arquebuss, and fell back dead into the ditch.  The explosion




THE LAST ENEMY.'63
of shells in the vicinity of magazines has sometimes
thrown a multitude of blackened or bleeding corpses far
and wide.  Men have died without being even grazed
by the ball, when it has passed through the air close to
their bodies. A whole rank has been mowed down by
a single shot. The Greek fire is now lost; but from the
seventh to the fourteenth century, it defended Constantinople, pouring its liquid flame into the Turkish fleets and
armies, and penetrating within the mail of the soldier.
But, wild as are these horrors of slaughter, and mighty
as is this destruction, and uncounted as are the victims
of- all times, still it cannot be a very large proportion of
mankind that has fallen in battle.  The other victims of
war are more numerous, and still more numerous its disastrous fruits; but three millions or ten millions, the bloody
trophies of so many fields, are but a small body in comparison with even a single generation. Amongst these,
however, are numbered a mighty company of renowned
names: Pelopidas, Chabrias, Nicias, and the elder Demosthenes, Junius Brutus, Flaminius, Paulus Emilius,
Asdrubal, Catiline, Crassus, Pompey the younger, Judas
Maccabeus, Leonidas, Darius, the elder and the younger
Cyrus, the Emperor Decius, Roderick of Spain, Harold
of England, Malcolm Canmore, Simon de Montfort,
Edward Bruce; the Dukes of York and Suffolk at Agincourt, the great Earls of -Salisbury and Shrewsbury and
Thomas, the royal Duke of Clarence, all in France; a
host of nobles in the.civil wars of England under the,
Roses; Richard the Third, Philip Van Artevelde, the
Scottish Regent Lennox, Sebastian of Portugal, the last
Constantine, James the Fourth of Scotland with a squadron of his peers around him, Chlarles the'Bold of Burgundy, the Duke of Nemours, Garcilasso de la Vega,




64               THE -LAST ENEMY.
Gustavus Adolphus; the Duke of Hamilton, the Earls of
Lindsey, Dundonald, Northampton, Denbigh, Sunderland, Lichfield, and the  Lords Brooke, Falkland,
Aubigny, in the later civil wars of England; John
Hampden; the Earls of Falmouth and Portland, at sea;
the Dukes of Grafton and Schomberg, in Ireland; Lord
Downe, Lord Howe, Mackay, Graham of Claverhouse,
Wolfe, Braddock, Montgomery, Warren, Kleist, Korner,
Scharnhorst, Moore, Desaix, Bagration, Picton, Bozzaris,
the Dukes of Brunswick, sire and son; and, to close
the catalogue with a name of Christian eminence, the
gallant and pious Gardiner.




XI.
teatW he uuiment.
s"-Now, men of death, work forth your.will,
For I can suffer and be still;
And, come it slow, or come it fast,
It is but death that comes at last."
SCOTT.
IT was a divine ordinance or prediction, that the blood
of the murderer should be shed for retribution, for
warning, and for the common safety. As soon as families
became states, this power of punishment \was reserved to
the sovereign jurisdiction. Necessity, fear, revenge,
and cruelty, extended the same doom to other crimes;
and' under some form and, process of law, the lives of the
guilty, and too often of the innocent, have been exacted
amongst every people.
The first instance recorded in history is that of the
Chief butler of Pharaoh, who was hanged; a mode of
death to which disgrace has been attached, and which
may have been adopted, from the ease of making the
dying culprit a spectacle to a multitude.  So, by divine
command, those heads of Israel were punished who had
led'the people into guilt; and thus seven of the posterity
of Saul were claimed by the Gibeonites, and put to
death while Rizpah, the mother of two of them, watched
below, and drove the vultures and dogs away.  The
murderers, the robbers, and even the forgers and thieves
of Britain have thus died; and thus the ignobler persons
(65)




66              THE LAST? ENEMY.
who were charged with treason; and the sufferer was
often taken down from the gallows that his body mightbe
quartered, while his heart was yet throbbing. Amongst
this unhappy throng, the half frantic Earl Ferrers, the
ingenious Aram, the fallen Dodd, the once elegant
Fauntleroy, the atrocious Thistlewood, were conspicuous
malefactors.  Thus died, too, David, the last Welsh
sovereign, Hugh Despenser, Roger Mortimer, the favourites of a king and queen; the patriot Wallace; two successive primates of Scotland, Beatoun and Hamilton,
the gallant Kircaldy of Grange, the Jesuit Campian, the
unfortunate Sir Everard Digby, the fanatic Hacket, the
noble Marquess of Montrose, the enthusiast, Hugh Peters,
and such of the judges of' Charles the First, as had
neither sought clemency nor escape; -thus the captive
Guatimozin; and thus, bewailed by countrymen and foes
alike, the victims of military rigor, Andre and Hale.
The immediate cause of death in hanging is strangulation, or-the fracture of the -neck; and the Spaniards have
therefore strangled criminals by an- iron band or ring at
a stake, sometimes before burning the body. Thus, not
as criminals, died the last of the Incas, and Savonarola,
and Tyndal.
Decapitation has been almost every where a punishment of common infliction. It was the mode by which
John the Baptist, Justin, and Cyprian, suffered martyrdom.. So died Cicero, the Constable de Luna, Biron,
the young king Conradin, Egmont and Horn, Almagro,
Balboa, Gonzalo Pizarro, the Doge Marino Faliero, Carmagnola, Barneveldf, and Lally, Charlemagne beheaded
in one day forty-five hundred Saxon rebels. Christian
the Second put thus to death ninety-four distinguished
persons at Stockholm. In Britain, this kind of execution




THE LAST ENEMY.               67
was appropriated to crimes of state, charged upon persons of birth; and thus the axe fell upon the necks of the
illustrious Waltheof, of Piers Gaveston, of one Percy,
Earl of Northumberland, and another, Earl of Worcester,
of a Plantagenet; Earl of Lancaster, another, Earl of Kent,
another, Earl of Cambridge, another, Earl of Warwick,
and the last, the aged Countess- of Salisbury; of several
Howards, Nevilles, Staffords, Poles, Fitzalans, Grays,
Scroops; Tuchets, Bohuns, Beauforts; of the aspiring
Essex, the brother Seymours, the kingly Dudley, of
Fisher, More, Laud, Strafford, Raleigh, Hamilton,
Capel, Derby, Holland', the two Argyles, two Huntleys,
Vane, Monmouth, Stafford, Russell, Sidney, of Thomas
Cromwell, of several Douglasses and Homes, and Ruthvens,'of Derwentwater, Kenmure, Lovat, Kilmarnock,
Balmerino, of Anne Boleyn, and Catherine Howard, and
Mary Stuart, and her royal' grandson, Charles the First.
The- Swiss culprit sat in a chair, while a blade loaded
with lead was swung by the arm of the executioner. In
France, when the Revolution demanded a speedier
process than the single stroke of a headsman, the guillotine was invented the victim was but laid upon a board,
the blade hung in a groove, the board was thrust in, the
blade dropped, and all was over. Louis the Sixteenth,
Marie Antoinette, the Princess Elizabeth, the Duke of
Orleans, Barnave, Bailly, Malesherbes, Lavoisier, Madame
du Barri, Charlotte Corday, Vergniaud, Brissot, Madame
Roland, Manuel, Guadet, Barbaronx, Kersaint, Danton,
Camille Desmoulins, Robespierre, Hebert, Westermann,
Chabot, St. Just, Custine, Houchard,'Clootz Dillon,
Beauharnois, Fouquier Tinville, were -buit the foremost
of a company of thousands whose heads fell under this
dreadful machine, by which the peculiar terror of a death




68               THE LAST ENEMY.
-instantaneous and unfelt, and yet fixed'to a known moment, was substituted for all other fear or solemnity.
The horrible punishment of burning appears even in
patriarchal times; for Judah commanded Tamar to' be
burned for adultery, though the command was not executed.  Two false prophets of the Jews were burned by
the King of Babylon; and the fiery furnace was there
for all who, like -Shadrach and his companions, refused
to-worship the golden' idol. Fire was made by our
Saviour a frequent figure of the future misery of the lost;
and this seems the- great cause for which it was chosen
in the darker of modern ages as the doom of unbelief
and heresy at the hands of human vengeance. Jews and
blasphemers, Paulicians and Albigenses, Lollards and
Hussites, and Socinians, and all who denied the spiritual
sovereignty and -infallibility of Rome, have been exposed
to the stake. There, in one day, fifty-four Knights
Templars suffered at Paris, in 1310, after thirty-six
others had died upon the rack. There was the end of
the days of the aged Polycarp; of Huss, and Jerome of
Prague; of Joan of Are; of Cranmer, and Latimer, and
Ridley, and Ferrar, and Hooper; of Bilney, Frith,
Barnes, Lambert, Anne Ayscue, Patrick  Hamilton,
Rogers, Bradford, Rowland Taylor, Saunders, Philpot,
Palmer; of Algerius, of Giordano Bruno, of the bewildered Servetus, and the unhappy Vanini. -The Spanish
Inquisition presided over the most terrible and comprehensive of such inflictions; and what was called an Act
of Faith included the agonizing death of such victims
in the presence of a shuddering, shocked, and yet satisfied people. Sometimes, in England, gunpowder was
allowed that the torment might be shortened; sometimes
a barrel of pitch was suspended above. Cortez burned




THE LAST ENEMY.               69
a Mexican chief with his son, and seventeen others;- and
in our own age and land, negro criminals have been
executed by fire with a brutality which told that the
soul of man could still find a pleasure in vindictive
tortures.
The East has been inventive in forms of punishment by
death. Besides the ancient custom of hewing down with
the sword, as Joab and Adonijah appear to have been
slain; and the modern practice of strangling with the bowstring, as so many Turkish viziers have died; besides, the
common Jewish mode of stoning, as Stephen suffered martyrdom; and the occasional practice of drowning, which
was transferred to Venice; besides the poisoned draught,
like those which- were drunk by' Phocion, Socrates, and
Philopoemen; besides the opened veins of Seneca and
Lucan; tyranny or revenge has multiplied deaths of a far
more appalling aspect. At Bochara, and often elsewhere,
criminals have been hurled from a tower to the ground,
as at Rome from the Tarpeian rock. Murzuphlus, a
fallen usurper of the Byzantine throne, was doomed to
lose his eyes, and then to be dashed from a- lofty column.
The Persians sometimes filled a tower with ashes, into
which the victim, like their prince Sogdianus, was thrown,
when a wheel stirred the ashes, and he was suffocated.
Parysatis caused Roxana to be sawn. asunder, a doom
which is said to have befallen the prophet Isaiah. But
most horrible was the torture, when a person was laid
between two boats, and fed, his head only being exposed,
till after ten or twenty days,-his body was consumed -by
the worms which were engendered within its loathsome
prison.  The Oriental and African nations, too, have
buried alive, as the Romans buried the Vestal virgins
when their purity was lost; they have empaled the




70               THE LAST ENEMY.
wretched sufferer, by thrusting a stake through his body,
and leaving him to writhe and die; and- they devised
that: awful torture of crucifixion, by which Titus put
hundreds to death, around the walls of Jerusalem, by
which died Bomilcar the Carthaginian, and Regulus,
and in Christian times, Arnold of Brescia, and- which
has been consecrated for the Christian believer. They
have trodden under the feet of elephants: -they have cut
men piecemeal: they have flayed off the skin, as befell
the heretic Mani in Persia; and they exposed human
beings to the desperate conflict with lions, which Rome
learned from the East.  So died Ignatius, Attalus, Blandina, Perpetua, Felicitas, and many martyrs.
Soldiers, since the introduction of fire-arms, have been
shot to death for military offences; and the punishment
has -been extended to others in times of war or revolution. Byng suffered thus his unjust doom upon the deck;
the Duke d'Enghien, Ney, Murat, Iturbide-, Charette,
D'Elbee, were thus slain. A whole company of soldiers,
with their officers, were shot by Custine, for some excesses
at the capture of Spires.
Queen Brunechild was fastened by one hand and one
foot to a wild horse, who tore her in pieces. Chatel, Ravaillac, and Damian, the last after being tormented with
pincers, were drawn asunder by horses, limb from limb.
This punishment had been known -at Venice, where also
criminals were sometimes suspended by one foot, and
left to perish.  The cook of Cardinal Fisher, for poisoning, was destroyed in'a caldron of boiling water. Many
an unhappy man has perished in Russia under the inhuman strokes of the knout.  Criminals, on thecontinent
of Europe, were long broken upon the wheel, the executioner successively crushing the parts of the body with a




THE LAST ENEMY.                71
bar; so died Calas and Struensee. Under the English
law, a criminal who refused to plead to a capital charge,
was pressed to death by weights placed upon his body;
and one firm man was thus killed at Salem, under the
charge of witchcraft.  Men have been starved in dungeons: so, many noble persons died by the order of King
John of England.  Monks and nuns, who were untrue
to their vows, have been walled up with stone and mortar,
and left to expire.  So late as the last century, a negro
in St. Eustatia was hung in irons, and survived three
days.
The annual number of capital executions in Christian
countries is nowexceedingly small, not more than a few
hundreds. There have been times when the proportion
to the whole population was an hundred fold greater;
and at other periods it has passed computation.  The
Paris guillotine, in thirteen months, struck off the heads
of twenty-five hundred persons.'Two thousand were
guillotined at Arras. It was the boast of. the Duke of
Alva that, in a short space, he caused thirty thousand
executions in Flanders.  Queen Mary sent several hundreds to the stake for their religion. The capital executions under Henry the, Eighth have been reckoned as far
more numerous in every year than all which are now
witnessed in the civilized world.  Thousands on ten
thousands were the victims of the Inquisition; no less, it
is said, than eight thousand eight hundred i-n the eighteen
years during which Torquemada presided. It is probable
that the number of those who, justly or unjustly, have
been put to death by some sentence of law or'authority,
has equalled or exceeded that of those who have died
by private violence. At the utmost, a dreadful necessity, and through the bad passions of men, a varied and




72,             THE LAST ENEMY.
horrid cruelty, death in punishment has been surrounded
by terrors of its own, which, only the innocent heart,
trusting in the only Disposer of life and death, could
look in the face without dismay.




XII.
ueth    in tatriftt.
God, whose almighty will created thee,
And me, and all that hath the breath of life,
He is our strength; for in His name I speak,
And when I tell thee that thou shalt not shed,
The life of man in bloody sacrifice,
It is His holy bidding which I speak.".SOUTHEY.
THE custom of sacrifices, at first a divine institution,
preserved itself in almost every region, under almost
every  perversion of the primeval truth.  When, for
successive generations, the corruption of man had so
suppressed the light, that it became deep darkness, andthe knowledge of the true God had been gradually
supplanted by dreams of deities who were but personifications of human vices, it was at last suggested that
such deities might hold in highest acceptance the altar
on which the blood of man was the offering. -Once
indeed, one, and he the father of the faithful, was commanded from  heaven to slay his son in sacrifice.  But
he knew that his son, in whom was the -promise of such
fiuture blessings for all men, must be preserved, even
though it were by a resurrection; and that the act, if it
had not been commanded, would have been the most
tremendous presumption and enormity. When some,.
Of his descendants caused their children to pass through
the fire, the Most High denounced such cruelty. as a
thing which, emphatically, He "had not'commanded,
7                (73)




74               THE LAST ENEMY.
neither came it into his heart." But if the thought was
not from the Creator, it was from' the tempter; for, to
take life, when it is not a duty, is the chief of crimes.
These sacrifices were practised amongst the Canaanites,and the neighbouring nations of Syria. Princes and
magistrates, amongst the Phoenicians, in times of public
calamity, offered the dearest of their offspring to those
whom they feared as avenging deities.  The Ethiopians
sacrificed boys to the sun, and girls to the moon. Those
gloomy oaks, which overshadowed the rites of Scythian
superstition, were sprinkled with the blood of every
hundreth prisoner.  Red-haired men were sacrificed by
the Egyptians at- the tomb of Osiris;~and they were
accustomed, it is said, to fling a young and beautiful
virgin into the  Nile.  The Chinese histories record
the self-oblation of the monarclh Chingtang, to avert
great calamities from  his subjects.  Human victims
were immolated in Persia by the sword, or buried alive.'rhe dread rite was known to the ancient people of
Hindostan; and in various forms, has been practised
even till our day, with the consent or by the act of thevictim. In the heart of a wood, the Druids slew their
captives in sacrifice; and in Gaul, they set up an immense wicker figure of a man, in which a hundred
victims were enclosed, to be consumed by fire.  The
Greek states, in' their early history, offered human
sacrifices before their troops went on an expedition.  A
man was sacrificed every year by the Athenians. The
custom existed amongst the Romans, even after it was
forbidden by law, and scarcely ceased before the overthrow of,Paganism.  It existed amongst the Goths,
amongst the Arabians, and with peculiar atrocity,
amongst the Carthaginians. In the north` of Europe,




THE LAST ElNEMY.                75
it prevailed till Christianity came in; and' the grove of
Upsal and the island of Rugen were made:memorable by
such horrors. Amongst certain tribes of the Mahrattas,
victims distinguished by their bloom and beauty are
fattened for. the altars.  The African kings slaughter
many prisoners in sacrifice to some fetish  sometimes
infants are' exposed to the sharks; and in the funeral
rites of Congo and- Ashantee at the burial of princes,'
hundreds of their wives and attendants have been
destroyed.  Such sacrifices, too, were found in the
Pacific islands'.
It was in America, however, that.the number of
victims, elsewhere'not very large, swelled to an annual
sum  of many thousands.  The Peruvians, when they
offered solemn prayers for their princes, slew children
in great, companies. But in Mexico, human sacrifice
most outraged the eye of Heaven, till it drew down the
retribution of
s" Th' heroic Spaniard's unrelenting sword."
The yearly victims in the capital were estimated at
twenty thousand; and the accursed high places of
slaughter arose in the other cities of the empire.  Seventy thousand human beings are said to have perished
at the dedication of one great temple.  The skulls of
such sufferers were preserved in certain edifices, in one
of which a hundred and thirty-six thousand were counted by the companions of Cortez.  Stretched on a block
of stone, the victim was held fast by several priests;
while one, in a scarlet mantle, opened his breast with a
sharp knife, and, tearing from it the palpitating heart,
held it towards the sun, and then threw it at the feet of
the idol. He who was intended for this, in some in



76               THE LAST ENEMY.
stances, had been splendidly arrayed and attended, and
every luxury had been heaped around him, for a certain
period before the fatal day'; in other instances, the most
exquisite' tortures had first been inflicted.  In Mexico,
as often elsewhere, the sacrifice was associated with, the.
cannibal repast.
As few, perhaps, since tradition said that these bloody
rites had been introduced into Mexico' but two centuries; as few, perhaps, as a single million may have been
the whole multitude of human sacrifices in America;
and, although the nations in which such customs have
had sway must have been without cultivation or history,
yet, in the absence of estimates, should we reckon those
of the elder continent at another million, it would seem
a large conjecture. But if the sacrifice of Iphigenia,
told in poetry or on the canvass, has drawn such tender
tears; if the supposed fate of the daughter of Jephthah
has aroused the indignant sympathy of all ages; if no -eye
ever read unmoved the story of Isaac on the mountain
of Moriah; how must thought recoil from that mass of
anguish which has thus been heaped upon the altars of
the spirits of evil.




XIII.
"' The term of life is limited,
Nor may a man prolong nor shorten it:
The soldier may not move from watchful sted,
Nor leave his stand until his captain bid.'' Wholife did limit by almighty doom,'
Quoth he,, knows best the terms established;
And he that points the centinel his room,
Doth license him depart at sound of morning drum.'
SPENSrEB
BY the same physical power which can destroy the
life of another, man can fix a sudden period to his own.
If at any time he become so weary of his present state,
and so hopeless for the future, that he prefers the uncertainties, or imagines that he prefers the certainties of
death, the temptation to suicide may be at hand, unless
repelled by higher sentiments of duty.  These sentiments may be overpowered by frenzy, supplanted by
selfishness, silenced by pride, or extinguished by atheism; and then the man may be his own destroyer,
Both Abimelech and Saul were already wounded to
death, when they besought their attendants to give the
finishing blow. Ahithophel, rejected as a counsellor, and
despairing of a wicked cause, went and hanged himself;
a mode of death, which, possibly because the horror of
bloodshed was wanting, has always been a ready suggestion.  Such was the death of the traitor Iscariot,
when the full anguish of his guilt burst upon him, and
7*                  {St\.




78               THE LAST ENEMY.
drove him to despair; and Pontius Pilate, long years
after, died too by his own hand.
The chief senators of Saguntum, when their city was
about to be taken, threw themselves into the same flames
in which they consumed their treasures.  Josephus
relates how, when Jotapata was captured, he, with forty
others, was hidden in a-pit, where suicide was preferred
by all the rest to a surrender; and lots being cast at his
suggestion, he who had the. first lot was; slain by him
who had the second, till Josephus and another were
alone left.  In the days of Richard the-First, more than
five hundred Jews are said to have destroyed themselves
at- York, to escape their: persecutors.  Eight hundred
mothers and children, when Missolonghi was conquered
by- the Turks, fled from their cruelty, and cast themselves into the sea to perish there.  It was made a
question in the age when Rome was sacked by Alaric,
whether'those -Christian virgins who preserved their
purity only by casting themselves iinto the Tiber, had
violated.the divine law; and their act was excused
rather than justified by St. Augustin.
Sardanapalus, the last Assyrian emperor, died with
-his eunuchs, wives, and concubines-, on onevast pile,
amidst his treasures, while his enemies burst in upon
his capital.  Imilcon, the Carthaginian general, slew
himself after ill success; and Annibal, who always carried poison in a ring upon his finger, used it when he
saw before him only his enemies and ignominy. It is
said that Bajazet, confined in a cage by the victorious
Timour, perished by dashing himself desperately against
the bars.' Men in Japan, under very common mortifications or losses, plunge a knife into their bowels.  For
ages, till British rule dissolved the murderous spell, the




THE LAST ENEMY.              -79
Hindoo widow had mounted the pyre with the corpse of
her husband; and the Hindoo devotee had lain down
before the wheels of the car of Juggernaut.   Within
thirty miles around Calcutta, two hundred widows sacrificed themselves in a year; and female slaves sometimes
threw themselves also into the flames.
When all hope of safety was at an end, Demosthenes
swallowed some fatal substance, and fell dead in the
temple of Neptune. But suicide never became to the
enjoying Greeks, what it was amongst the iron Romans,
the almost usual resource of great men under misfortune.
From the treatise of Plato on the immortality of the soul,,
Cato arose to plunge the dagger into his own body.
Brutus fell upon his sword; and Cassius ordered his
freedman to run him through. Portia, the wife of Brutus
and daughter of Cato, swallowed burning coals. Mark
Antony stabbed himself; and Cleopatra' died by the bite
of an asp, which she placed on her arm or bosom. Piso
opened veins in both his arms. Nero was compelled
to destroy himself or be destroyed, and tremblingly inflicted a fatal wound.  Otho, after an unfortunate battle,
calmly slew himself with a dagger. The elder Gordian,
Julia Domna, widow of the emperor Severus, Pcetus,
and, giving him the example, his wife Arria, died this
" Roman death."  In Christian lands, it has been left,
with few exceptions, to the maniac and the unbeliever.
The Venetian admiral, Dandolo, taken prisoner by the
Genoese, was insultingly exposed, and in a frenzy dashed
his head against the side of the galley and was taken
up dead. England was said to have the- unhappy
distinction of an undue proportion of suicides, from
melancholy and discouragement. The Earl of Northumberland, committed to the Tower in the reign of




: —80            THE LAST ENEMY.
Queen Elizabeth, was -found dead with three bullets in
his body; and the Earl of Essex, under Charles the
Second, in- circumstances exactly the same, appeared to
have cut his throat in the same gloomy prison. Creech,
the translator'of several -classics, Budgell, one of the
writers of the Spectator, who threw himself into the
Thames, and young Chatterton, who took arsenic, are
the only English authors, whom  distress and sadness
have driven to so desperate an end.  Maitland of Lethington, a sagacious man of intrigue, poisoned-himself,
to shun the block.  Sir Robert Calder and Colonel
Brereton were goaded by the- loss of professional reputation.  But most often perhaps the suicidal blow has been
struck under sudden delirium, or the gloom of derangement; for this is one of the most frequent and the most
hightful perils of insanity.  Three conspicuo-us statesmen in one age, Whitbread, Romilly, and the Marquess
of Londonderry, died thus by their own hands; and thus
died Lord Clive the conqueror of Bengal.- When: the
French nation caught the spirit of unbelief, in a period
of immense political revolutions, the heathen practice
of suicide revived with the heathen uncertainty of life
hereafiTr. Many of the democratic'leaders, in their
downfallattempted thus to escape, and many succeeded
in thus e'scaping, the guillotine; like Petion, who was
found dead in a field; Roland, who ran:himself through
with a stiletto by the' road-side; Condorcet, who carried
poison, and used it in prison; Rebecqui, who threw
himself into the sea; Valaze, who stabbed himself when
his se-ntence; was pronounced; and those five, with
Rommi.'the mathematician at their head, who plunged
the dagger:,i succe'essively, into their breasts, before the
judges couid- iiinterpose, eacli   passing it to the next as




THE LAST ENEMY.               81
he fell wounded, and three of them dying on the spot.
Berthier, a favourite of Napoleon, threw himself from a
window, in delirium; and Junot, too,. with an alienated
intellect, accomplished his own destruction. Christophe,
deposed and deserted, shot hii-nself with a- pistol. Admiral Villeneuve took an anatomical plate of the heart,
marked the exact spot, and then, at that spot, drove a
pin into his own heart, and expired.
Every week, indeed, bears its tale of suicide.  Men,
like the painter Haydon, made desperate by misfortunes
or mistakes; men overwhelmed with sudden disgrace,
by the detection of crime; men and women, under the
pangs of blighted affection; women for whose fair fame
there is no refuge; men weary of the world, and anticipating only an old age without enjoyment; even children
under' an exasperated bitterness, which has made them
willing to revenge themselves by the pain which their
death might inflict; all have dared to tear asunder the
soul and the body which their Maker had united.. The.y
have been found hanging in garrets, barns, or lorrely
rooms, by ropes or handkerchiefs, even with their knees
restg on the floor:' they have cast themselves from
wharves, and the decks of vessels, and high edifices:
they have swallowed arsenic, laudanum, prussic acid,
every variety of poison;. they have drawn the razor
across the throat; they have placed the muzzle of the
pistol in the mouth or ear, and-thrown the shattered bone
and brains upon the wall. After a desperate sea-fight,
the conquered commander has set fire to the magazine.
Murderers in their cells have often been their own executioners. -A shipwrecked man has even been known
to shoot-himself rather than die by drowning.  Romantic
and godless lovers, in France, have chosen to -die together,




82              THE LAST ENEMY.
and have preferred the easy mode of stifling themselves
with the' fumes of charcoal.
One annual suicide amongst ten thousand people is
probably no extravagant estimate; one death, perhaps,
amongst three hundred'. In France, there were, in the
year 1846; three thousand one hundred and two; about
one third by -strangulation, one third by drowning, and
one eighth by firearms. Even this estimate would yield
an aggregate of a hundred thousand needless and guilty
deaths in every year; needless, as anticipating the
appointed mode and time; and guilty, because most
unnatural, presumptuous, and desperately impious, except when they are the work of frenzy.




X IV.' The hills move lightly, and the mountains smoke;
The rocks fall headlong, and the valleys rise;
What solid was, by transformation strange
Grows fluid; and the fixed and rooted earth,
Tormented into billows, heaves and swells,
Or with vertiginous and hideous whirl
Sucks down its prey insatiable. * * * *
Ocean has caught the frenzy, and upwrought
To an enormous and o'erbearing height,
Not by a mighty wind, but-by that voice
Which winds and waves obey, invades the shore.
0       ~ *    * o   They are gone,
Gone with the refluent wave into the deep,
A prince with half his people."
COWPER,
A PORTION of mankind have been exposed to death
through the direct and extraordinary operation of the
more stupendous agencies in nature.  When the world
was destroyed by- the deluge; when fire from  heaven
fell on the cities of the plain, or on the captains and
their troops who were sent against Elijah; when Korah
and his associates were eith.er burned or engulphed,
these agencies were employed to attest miraculously the
divine displeasure.- But inundations, lightning, the vol:.
cano, the earthquake, the avalanche, without any special
token of that displeasure, and without a miracle, have
put an end to many lives in a single hour.
On those lowlands which  sometimes lie along the
(83)




84               THE LAST ENEMY.
margin of the seas, vast floods have rolled in, and swept
multitudes away. The Zuyder Zee and the Harlaem
Lake were-formed by such inundations, when the dykes
of Holland yielded, and many lives were lost; and thus,
in the winter of 1808, four hundred bodies floated on the
flood, near Arnheim.  An inundation of the Neva, in
1824, destroyed three thousand; and six thousand were
overwhelmed, in 1802, in the vale of Lorca in Spain,
by the waters of a reservoir. Earthquakes have often
hurled a mass of mountainous billows upon the shore:
thus the sea at Lisbon came in like a wall, and in a
moment bore back a crowd of dead into its bosom; and
thus, at Alexandria, in 365, fifty thousand lost their
lives, when an earthquake was followed by a similar
inundation. In 1780, a single wave drowned the whole
town of Savannah-la-Mar, with all its inhabitants.
Even more terrific to the uninstructed mind might be
that sharp interposition of a sudden, irresistible shaft,
directed from the heavens, seeming to single out an individual, and blasting him in an instant. Deaths by lightning are few; yet so one Roman emperor, Carus, was
reported to have died in the night; and so a distinguished- orator of the American Revolution, James Otis,
was struck down as he looked from his door on an approaching storm.
Scattered over  the earth are those peaks from which
the internal flame finds issue; and around their bases
lie the habitations of men. - Torrents of lava and showers
of ashes, poured from the craters, have surprised and
overwhelmed individuals, or even the population of villages. or cities. In that eruption of Vesuvius, which
destroyed Herculaneum  and Pompeii, there; was, notwithstanding the general flight of the inhabitants, a wide




THE LAST ENEMY.               85'
loss of lives: the skeleton of the mother.with her. infant,
has been found, and that of the householder, or steward,
with his keys; the elder Pliny was fatally overtaken by
the ashes, when he had drawn- too near; and an Agrippa
perished with Drusilla his mother. When Catania, in
1669, was almost buried by the earthquake and. the attendant eruption of Etna, the flood of lava was stopped
by the city walls, sixty feet in- height, till it rose above
them, and fell over; like a cataract of fire, while about
twenty-seven thousand perished, more by the earthquake
than the lava.
-At Afntioch, in 526, two hundred and' fifty thousand
are said to have been destroyed by an earthquake; at
Port Royal, in 1692, two-thousand persons perished; at
Lisbon, in 1755, sixty thousand'in six minutes; at Da-.mascus, in 1759, six- thousand; at Caraccas, in 1812,
nine thousand; at Safed, in 1837, five thousand. Bagdad,
Aleppo, and Lima; Jamaica, Guadaloupe, and the islands
of the West Indies, have been visited with a like tremendous destruction. The sufferers have been crushed
by-the falling walls,, or engulphed in the waters or the
fissures. At Callao, in 1747,- a great multitude were
-gathered upon a quay or pier, which so sank with-them
all, that none of the bodies ever were seen upon the
surface: one man alone escaped. A vast number were
swallowed up in the earthquakes in Italy, under the
Emperor Gallienus. In the earthquakes of Calabria,,between 1783 and 1786, twenty-nine thousand died
under the ruins.
Avalanches of ice have occasionally swept the hunter
or the traveller down some precipice or ravine, burying
him as'he fell. The- village of Leuk, with its baths,
was overwhelmed in 1719, and many of the people
8




86                THE LAST ENEMY.
perished. Avalanches of earth, which have been gradually undermined and separated from the hill-sides, have
covered houses and hamlets; as the inhabitants of the
village of Goldau, in Switzerland, died, almost to the
number of five hundred, under a mass of rocks and sand
from the neighbouring mountain.
But thes'e events, although they so startle all men, and
impress themselves on history, or on memory, are yet
rare; and all the thousands to whom  death has come.
through these great and extraordinary agencies of nature,
might scarcely be considered in, an enumeration iof the
modes of death, if numbers alone claimed regard — or
yielded instruction from the grave. There is, however,
a peculiar power in deaths like these, the greater because
they are unusual.  It was thus that Omnipotence interposed to- destroy, when it was designed that the terror
of. death as-His immediate judgment on a multitude, a'
city, or -a world, should be manifest. The heathen, in
all ages, felt the divinity of such visitations with a special
awe, either the awe of remaining truth, or that of blind
superstition.  No long chain of causes and effects here
joins the event to-the hand of its supreme Author, and
distracts the attention of man: he sees himself brought
into direct contact with those tremendous powers which
no human skill or strength could ever attempt to baffle.
He seems left with his Maker, who wields the earth to
entomb him, or bids it pour forth its flames or its waters
to sweep him from its bosom~ or sends to his frame an
arrow from the heavens. \It is no special judgment, no
preternatural instrument: the Almighty decree is just as
truly and as directly fulfilled at the calmest and easiest
deathbed: but to man the letters are here more burn
ingly visible.




Xv~
",Peril and dismay
Wave their black ensigns o'er the watery way."
FALCON ER.
THE greater part of the solid globe is covered by an
element at once too dense to allow our organs to act
within its embrace, and not dense enough to sustain our
weight upon its surface.  Man cannot long survive in
the waters; -and yet he cannot venture far without standing on their-brink, or crossing their brooks, rivers, bays,
lakes or seas.  Then, the slightest accident, a step
beyond the edge, a breath of wind, a wave higher than
the rest, a leak, a loss. of his footing for -a moment, is
death.
A mighty company, therefore, are they.who have sunk
beneath the waters. -Attemp.ting to ford.the rapid stream,
the -savage is borne d-do.wniW ard, aan d peh'aps hurried
over the cataract.  Launching forth in his frail boat,
another, by a single -heedless movement, is plunged
below, and disappears.  As ages and arts advance, the
bolder barks. of commerce and piracy are dashed on rocks
and shoals: the( danger is first noted when the mariner
has been overwhelmed, and the safer paths are. gradually
discovered, after the more perilous have been the graves
of many. No triumph of science or skill has ever- quite
removed these perils of the ocean.  It is computed that
of those whose business-is upon the deep, a proportion
(87)




88               THE LAST ENEMY.
almost too large to be named come, earlier or later, to
their end, by shipwreck.  Inca single disastrous winter,
twenty-five hundred were drowned on the shores of New
England. The hurricane sweeps down many a foundering vessel; many are shattered on the breakers; many
are drifted hopelessly on the sands;- some are broken by
the shock of the ice-island; many in the darkness are
driven- together in fatal encounter.
When Xerxes assembled his immense fleet at Artemisium, a storm arose which engulphed far more than the
Grecian arms could-destroy.  Prince William, the only
son of Henry the First of England, with his sister and
a gay train of nobles and courtiers, was drowned in
crossing the channel from Normandy: a butcher alone
clung to the mast, and was rescued. Returning from
the scene of their unworthy attempts to supplant-better
men, Bobadilla and Roldan, the adversaries of -Columbus, were lost with all their gold.  A succession of
tempests scattered the great Armada of Spain,- and
strewed the seas of Britain with foreign dead. The good
Sir Humphrey Gilbert sat reading at'the stern of his ship,
when it was last seen by its companion, as a night of
dreadful peril was closing in: "the way to heaven,"
cried he, " is as short by sea as by land:" and in the
morning his vessel was seen no more.  Hudson was
turned adrift in a boat, by his mutinous sailors, and so
perished. Sir Cloudesly Shovel, with three gallant ships
of the line, and their crews, sank by the Scilly Islands.
Many lamented Englishmen went down, when James the
Second, with MIarlborough and a few beside, escaped
from his sinking ship. The Prince George, in 1758,
took fire at sea, and five hundred perished by the flames
or by the waters.  Off Portsmouth, the Royal George,.




THE LAST ENEMY.                89
some twenty years after, while she was careened for repairs, and crowded with seamen and people from the
shore, admitted too much water into her portholes, and
thus in a few moments,
"Kempenfelt went down,
-With twice four hundred men.'"
After the victory of Lord Rodney, in 1782, all the
prizes, except one, were lost in a terrible storm, in which,
also, two British ships of the line and many merchantmen foundered, with more than three thousand persons.
The circumnavigator La Perouse perished, without a
trace, till some relics of his vessel were found on an island,
to which they'had drifted.  Falconer, after he had described his own fate in his beautiful poem, "The Shipwreck," embarked for India, and sank in the Eastern seas,
where the same fate, covered with the same mystery and
silence, awaited afterwards the brave Sir Thomas Trow —
bridge.
The safer voyages of travellers have yet been fatal to
many honoured lives, even since all the advantages of
modern discovery. In crossing the Atlantic, one of the
signers of the Declaration of Independence was drowned;
and at a later period the accomplished Professor Fisher and
the veteran General Lefebvre Desnouettes; and still later,
in one of the noblest steam vessels, the comedian Power
and a'son of the ducal house of Richmond.' Lord Royston
was lost off Lubeck.  The Earl of Drogheda and his
son were drowned in the short passage between England
and Ireland.  In little excursions of pleasure, a gust of
wind has overturned the boat which was laden with
many hopes and treasures; so sank an eminent-admiral,
Sir Joseph Yorke, near Portsmouth; so the shining, un.happy Shelley in the Gulf of Spezzia.
8*




90               THE LAST ENEMY..
There is noriver that has' not swallowed up its dead.
The first Sforza plunged in to rescue a drowning page,
was shaken from his affrighted horse, and sank under
the weight of his armour. A Duke of Brunswick was
overwhelmed by the- waters of the Oder, while he endeavoured to save the unfortunate peasantry during an
inundation.  Mungo Park,- attacked by the Africans,
leaped into the Niger, and was either drowned, or-destroyed by their missiles. The young, gifted, and pious
Spencer, was drowned while bathing in the Mersey;
it has been the end of many parental anticipations.
Wounded and exhausted, Poniatowski was unable to
cross the marshy Elster, in the heat of the battle of
Leipsic.  Many were the coluwmns that, at Blenheim,
were driven into the Danube; many-the fugitives who
sank freezing from the bridge of the Berezina; many
the Seiks whom the British cannon impelled into the
br:oad Indus. - A thousand Mamelukes sank in the Nile,
at the battle of the Pyramids.
Each day and hour, perhaps, brings,to some mortal
its fatal peril by water.  The inexperienced ship-boy,
hurled from  the yard into the deep, and struggling
vainly for a while; the-rowers, overset in attempting to
pass the -surf upon some dangerous bar; the seamen,
washed from the deck; the crew, deserting their sink-,
ing bark, to be swamped in their frailer boat; the
wrecked survivors, clinging to the side of the ship, till,
one by one, they:are swept away; the fishermen, surprised by the sudden gale, and striving, without success,
to reach the shore; the heedless passer along the sands,
where the returning tide hems him in; the boy, falling.
through the ice; the rider, drawn beyond his depth: by
his horse; these are a portion of the great throng whom.




THE LAST ENEMY.              91
the ocean, with its tributaries, numbers amongst the
dead. When it shall give up those whom it buried alive
and never restored, they must be an host as numerous,
perhaps, as all who, at any one time' float upon its
bosom.




XVI.
Vt at        b.     y      0oi    iit 
" The leperous distilment, whose effect
Holds such an enmity with blood of man,
That, swift as quicksilver, it courses through
The natural gates and alleys of the body;
And, with a sudden vigour, it doth posset
And curd, like eager droppings into milk,
The thin and wholesome blood."
SItAKSPEARE.
A CHEMICAL process incorporates the fruits of the
earth, or the flesh of other animals, with our own,
through digestion and assimilation..- Another chemical
process, when other vegetable or animal substances are
introduced, dissolves and destroys the whole system.
Like the electric fire, the very touch of prussic acid
darts through the human frame one withering flash; and
life has departed for ever. The slower and more painful operation of arsenic disturbs and distresses the vital
functions, till they cease.  Strong narcotics, like laudanum, oppress the brain; and the soul passes away under
the thick cloud which envelops the senses and all the
intellectual faculties.   Conveyed to  the blood, also,
from without, many substances diffuse a blasting energy,'which is mightier than all the resistance of physical life.
These poisons have been employed by the murderer,
by the savage warrior, by the public executioner, and
by the suicide.  But they may also, through various
accidents, find entrance within the body, and accom(92)




THE LAST ENEMY.                93
plish there their terrible work of -dissolution.  The Emperor John Comnenus was mortally wounded while he
was hunting, by. a poisoned- arrow. A fatal quantity of
some powerful drug, of which a little might preserve
life, but much must destroy it, has sometimes been administered through the error of a nurse'or attendant;
and sometimes, that of the apothecary, the. friend or the
patient himself has substituted a poison for a remedy.
Archbishop Stuart, son, of the celebrated Earl of Bute,
died from. swallowing-an embrocation which had been
given him by mistake. for a medicine.  The'beautiful
poetess best known under her maiden name of Landon,
appears to have heedlessly used a greater quantity of
prussic acid than was her perilous. custom, and was
found.dead, alone, in-her chamber, at Cape'Coast Castie. An apothecary in- one of the Southern States, on
the representation that he had- perhaps sent a draught
which he did not intend, was so confident of his correctness that he offered to swallow the draught, and
actually destroyed himself; by his rashness.
It is common to hear of those who, having mistaken
the poisonous- toadstool for the. rich mushroom, have
brought death into a'family at a repast.  Children and
domestics have lighted upon arsenic which had been
carelessly deposited within their reach, an-d have tasted
it fatally; or, perhaps, mingled it accidentally with the
food of a household. Diseases in the flesh of animals
have been known to cause qualities so poisonous, that
those who partook of the flesh, after the animal was
slain, have sickened and died.
It has sometimes happened, that very- slight wounds
-have spread, in an inexplicable manner, some strange
effect, like that of venom, throughout the; system.




94               THE LAST ENEMY.
There is a special peril in the dissection of dead bodies,
around which floats so destructive an atmosphere. Some
valuable lives of professional men have been lost,
through the injury inflicted by a mere puncture with
some instrument which had just been -used in such
anatomical investigations. In the bite of a mad dog,
the mischief proceeds not from any natural fury of the
animal, but only from an accidental malady, and is not
in -proportion to the severity of the wound, but only to
the malignity of the substance infused. It may properly
be placed, therefore, not with other fatal injuries from
beasts, but with fortuitous deaths from the -co-mmunication of poisonous matter.  Amongst the victims of hydrophobia the most distinguished, perhaps, was Charles,
Duke of Richmond, who died in 1819,'while he was
Governor of Canada, having been bitten by a favourite
dog which was often near his person.
The blood, the nerves, the digestive organs, thus take
up the seeds of death from a variety of substances; and
man, with all his skill, cannot deliver'his inmost frame
from such enemies.  They enter deeper into the secrets
of nature than all his remedies or his knowledge. How
amazing is that agency, and how far beyond all human
discernment, through which one single -drop received
into the throat, a few grains deposited in the stomach,
or a touch, and no more, reaching. the blood-vessels,
can prostrate -the strongest form, defy all power of
science, derange and absolutely dissolve the whole
organization, driive the soul from its citadel, and rapidly
convert the lifeless body into a mass of corruption!
Nothing more clearly tells how fearfully and wonderfully we are made, and how manifold as well as mighty,
are the.means which obey the divine decrees, of judg



THE LAST ENEMY.              95
ment or of mercy. The men who die by these poisons,
except when they are administered by the hand of
suicide or of murder, are very few; only enough to
remind the rest that all nature can become the armoury
of death.




XVII.
Ptat   frorm'Atmo, uepri
", On every nerve
The deadly winter seizes; shuts up sense;
And, o'er his inmost vitals creeping cold,
Lays him along the snows, a stiffened corse,
Stretched out, and bleaching in the northern blast."
THOMSON.
Two dreadful extremes, the heat that consumes, and
the cold that congeals, threaten on either side the life
of man, which commonly vibrates between them, at a
secure distance.  From the violence of the burning sun
he-shelters himself beneath the shade of roofs, trees, or
rocks; and against the biting blasts he protects himself
with the aid of fire, thick raiment; and continual exercise. But sometimes he is found unprepared, or is
drawn forth from  his refuge, and falls under the might
of a natural force, which he was not framed to encounter.  The air, too, which he breathes, may, through
the accumulation of noxious vapours in close pits and
depths, be so deprived of the just proportion of its vital
elements, that to inhale it is to be suffocated.
Exposed-without defence to the vehement heat of
the sun, especially in the warmer latitudes, men have
often dropped down, and survived but a few moments.
A -regiment of Prussians, in 1848, suffered as great a
loss in this manner as would have been caused by a
(96)




THE LAST ENEMY.               97
sharp skirmish. At the battle of Monmouth, several
soldiers died merely from the heat; and General Greene,
outliving the war, was afterwards smitten with a fatal
sun-stroke on his plantation.  Labourers in the fields
have thus fallen in the season of harvest; and workmen on the roofs of houses have felt their life melting
away beneath the blazing noon. But this is an uncommon fate; and the destructive power of extreme
heat is more often exercised through exhalations and
consequent pestilences, through drought and through the
fiery blasts, that send the sands of the desert in whirlwinds against the caravan. The bones of.men lie strewed
along the plains where such whirlwinds have passed.
More directly destructive is the violence of cold.
Every severe storm of the Northern winters surprises
some wanderers, who may easily perish amidst the bewildering snows and the benumbing frost. The shipwreckedsailor sometimes escapes the rocks and waves,
only to die frozen upon the shore. The squadrons of
Charles the Twelfth and the legions of Napoleon sank
in long files before the sharp winds of Russia.  One of
the earlier English navigators, Sir Hugh Willoughby,
in the time of Elizabeth, was frozen to death with all
his crew in the Arctic sea of Europe; and it is said that
a Greenland whaler was found, about 1780, wedged in
the ice, where she had been fastened some fifteen years
before, with all on board in the very attitude in which
they had died, stiff and undecayedJ
An accident, not unfrequent and very distressing, is
the destruction of the lives of sleepers through the change
in the air which they breathe, produced by the fumes
of charcoal, where there is no chimney or other outlet.
The effect of the respiration of a numerous company,
9




THE LAST ENEMY.
crowded for a long time into a very close' room, would
be almost as fatal: and thus the hundred and twentythree British sufferers in the Black Hole at Calcutta were
suffocated by the change in an air in which a few of them
could have easily borne their imprisonment. In the
same manner, seventy or eighty Irish passengers in a
steamer died dreadfilly under the hatches, where they
had been crowded during a storm.
In pits and wells a noxious gas is sometimes formed,
which becomes almost instantaneously fatal to the explorer; so that man after man has been lowered only to
die in the attempt to rescue his predecessor. Such gases
were found to be pent up in the earth so intensely, that
often,  when the miner has opened a passage, they have
rushed forth, either stifling the unfortunate company, or
taking fire at their torches, and wrapping all in destruction. Science -has found preservatives; but in these
more nidden places, nature will doubtless retain some
stores of elemental ammunition, ready for mortal explosion. Many hundreds have thus perished in England
within a single season.
The rapid dissolution of meh in vast companies, when
Providence visits them with fatal judgments, is usually
through some agency which takes the form of an actual
disease, however sudden and spSeedy. But when, in one
night, a hundred and eighty-five thousand Assyrians
were smitten by the destroying angel, this can hardly
have been through any operation of the most violent and
infectious malady, but probably through some such
miraculous change in the surrounding atmosphere as
made it death to breathe.
Thus the very means of life become the means of
death.  Man, since the sentence under which he dies,




THE LAST ENEMY.                 99
has been subject to natural influences, which in their
appointed course, and within their just limits, nourish
and preserve him, with all other creatures.  But, when
some irregularity disturbs that course, or when he invades those limits with a rash step,.he only struggles.
against a power which is the basis of all corporeal existence.  He has no strength to endure a temperature
above or below that which is adapted to his feeble frame;
and the air in which he lives must be blended from its
constituent elements in exact proportions, or the vital
machine is deprived at once of its moving power, and
all the parts which compose the substance of his body
hasten back to their sources' in surrounding nature.
These deaths are not very numerous; but more mightily,
perhaps, than any other class, they speak- the essential
mortality of our present condition; for, though we could
escape every disease and. accident, we never could brave
the might of extreme heat or cold, or of a decomposed
and noxious atmosphere.




XVIII.
e atV  3in  -nfanrq.
S There thousands and ten thousands I beheld,
Of innocents like this, that died untimely,
By violence of their unnatural kin,
Or by the mercy of that gracious Power,
Who gave them being, taking what He gave,
Ere they could sin or suffer like their parents.
I saw them in white raiment, crowned with flowers,
By the fair banks of that resplendent river,
Whose streams make glad the city of our God."
MONTGOMERY.
IN an age of refinement and humanity, and in lands
where a most watchful tenderness guards the cradle, one
third of a generation die in early childhood.  But the
fragile life, which seemed to need but a gentler or a
ruder breath to preserve or extinguish its flame, must
often have ceased through the roughness or inattention
of barbarians, ignorant even in their kindness. A multitude of infants have been born to die almost at once,
with the consent or by the act of parents, brutalized
through superstition, or extreme want, or habits of cruelty.
All the calamities, too, by which whole communities
and tribes have been visited, could not but act most
fatally on the feeble beings whose lives were wrapped in
the lives of fathers and mothers. From all these causes,
the computation of Hufeland, if-too large for the present
age, may perhaps be admitted for the past history of the
world; and it may be believed that half the human race
have died within the first ten years of life.
(100)




THE- LAST ENEMY.              101
It seems, at first sight, a mysterious ordinance, that
death should hold such dominion, before the higher ends
of life could be attained or attempted.  The same principle seems to have presided over that arrangement by
which one third of human existence is -apparently lost in
the inactivity of sleep, and that other by which almost
all the waking hours of almost all mankind must be
given to the mere labour of obtaining sustenance. I}
seems as if the greatest purposes were thus sacrificed or
disappointed. But sadder views, compelled by human
history, not only satisfy the mind of the wisdom of these
ordinances, but result in adoration of the goodness which
through them has turned aside so, many. perils.  While
labour employs the body, more than half the temptations
which-would else assail the soul are keptaloof. In sleep,
the soul, as well- as the body, is refreshed, and ripens
passively; and if it makes little progress in good, advances as little in evil. Infancy, a kind of partial sleep
of the moral nature, is unmolested by the worst of human
temptations: and they who close their days within that
region of but half waking thoughts, have never offended
as men offend. They die without the burden of a guilt
which has been contracted against reason, knowledge,
admonition, deliberation and experience.  If we knew
no more, it would be but too certain a gain for a mighty
proportion of mankind, to fall so early.,
But more is known.  For these, as for all who died
in the first of men, there remains, through the -seed of
the woman; another life, in'which the body that dies,
and the spirit that never dies, shall alike participate.
That the life to come should be to them a state of strict
punishment for deeds done in this life, could neither be
averred nor imagined; because, whatever be the ten9*




102              THE LAST ENEMY.
dency of the dispositions which they disclose, and whatever the abstract character and -merit of those dispositions, it is' impossible, with any knowledge which we
possess, to impute any very high accountability to their
persons. The future life, indeed, without being for such
strictly a place of punishment, might still be the beginning of sorrows.  To enter it with a mass of impious
desires, all sure of their'development, would be only
to make it at the best a world like this, where evils,
unchecked  by  any future redemption, must pass
into evils still blacker and more unmitigated.  Not,
therefore, through their mere freedom from deliberate
guilt can they who depart in childhood be secure of
future felicity.  But if the evil'which they inherit, the
downward tendency which has been the load of all men
since sin came into the world, be once removed, there is
then no bar to their free entrance on all the joy which
the Sovereign Father has'reserved for the creatures of
His love. If they who, from the weakness of their years,
cannot embrace a message that announces and offers
redemption, may yet be embraced within that redemption, death may be to them the seal of their exemption
from trial; of pureness once bestowed, and never again
to be endangered; and of their free admission to a purchased possession. But it has always been believed that
they could be and were embraced within the redemption which was promised before Paradise was forsaken.
Its Author and Finisher gave to such as them an express
inheritance in the kingdom of heaven.
The theological question between universal and particular redemption, seemed not necessarily to involve a
question on the future peace of such as die in childhood.
Should it be pronounced universal, as by the general




THE LAST ENEMY.-              103
voice of Christendom at this day, their peace would certainly be decided in that decision. But should redemption be pronounced particular, or limited to a chosen
number, that number might still include all who were'destined to die before conscious rebellion. Two theories,
however, have alike, in their turn, darkened the hopes
of the bereaved parent.  Tertullian, at the end of the
second century, intimates that innocent infants needed
not, like older mortals, the sacrament of baptism for the
remission of sins, and would die uninjured by its delay.
But, fifty years after, Cyprian and the other African
bishops were unanimous in urging that the youngest infant should not be debarred from the grace of that-sacrament.  Its absolute necessity was theiceforth declared
with so little qualification, that after the time of Augustin,
infants dying without baptism were generally believed to
be excluded from the blissful abodes.  But a state was
imagined for them, which was little more than exclusion
from heaven, without suffering, while the baptized were
supposed to be in endless felicity.  Even Melancthon
speaks of those children only as admitted to grace, who
are not Turkish, nor Jewish, nor Pagan, but in the
church.  It has been easy for some Protestant divines,
in lands where scarcely, till of late, one unbaptized
person in a hundred or a thousand could be encountered,
to speak in a tone of uncertainty when they spoke of
infants dying without baptism. But the fathers of the
reformed church of England hesitated not to declare
that, without doubt, unbaptized infants might be heirs
of Heaven.  Such, too, was the doctrine of Calvin and
his followers; but their theory of an irrespective election
inclined them! to imagine a separation even amongst
little ones; and they spoke of elect infants. While




104              THE LAST ENEMY.
some, like Usher, seemed to allow the same- difference
of destiny in those who should pass into the world to
come as in those who should survive in this; others, like
some of the Synod of Dort, suggested that all who-died in
infancy might be of the elect. A part of the harsher doctrine was still that the condemnation of infants who might
not be chosen would be the lightest of all future woes; but
even from this the mild Watts took refuge in the strange
conjecture that heathen. infants. might possibly cease to
exist.  The theory of election is now less agitated; the
vastness of the redemption is seen in the word of truth;
and Protestant'Christians, almost with one sentiment,
regard the infant world as safe in the hands of a faithful Creator and most merciful Saviour.'.'Of such," said He, who knew  the glory from
which He came, and to which He returned, "of such
is the kingdom  of heaven;" of such as the little
child before Him; not because it was a Jewish child,
and circumcised; not because it was a child elected
from the rest; but simply because it was a little child,.
like other little children.  Not merely that, through
His covenant, they may be heirs of glory, are they consecrated and regenerated in baptism; but because, in
His design, they are already made heirs of'glory. Therefore, the pious mind, surveying. the. manifold uncertainties and sorrows of protracted life, and understanding the dangers through which so large a proportion of
mankind shipwreck their everlasting hopes, can contemplate, with- gratefull reverence, the decree under which
half have been removed before the season of peril. How
sweet must be the songs of that innumerable company,
who die without knowing the sting of death, and exchange the vale of tears for a second birth into a world
where their angels always behold the face of the Father!




XIX.
Vntat  hb              dai lture
" Nature sickened, and each gale was death."
POPE.
THE air which we breathe is so affected by certain
causes, and very mysterious causes, that from time to
time it becomes loaded with disease. Some maladies,
also, may be conveyed from man to man, by contact.
These sources of death, thus distinguished  by. their
origin in infection or contagion, are classed under the
common name of pestilence; and they fill a very solemn
place in the history of mortality.
Of one such visitation, at least, it is divinely recorded,
that it was ordained in punishment for transgression;
that an angel was the controlling minister; and that-in
three days 70,000 men died through the sin of their
sovereign.  At another time, almost 15,000 died in the
camp of Israel; at another, 24,000; and of the people
about Bethshemesh, when they dishonoured the ark,
50,000 fell.  Men have always felt that these seasons
of rapid, simultaneous death had a peculiar language,
and demanded a special interpretation. All have bowed
themselves before their Preserver, and'have confessed
that, as death is the fruit of sin, so extraordinary sin
is justly visited with extraordinary triumphs of death.
The chief orders of pestilence, since medical science
has been sufficient to distinguish their features and record their passage, have been the plague, the sweating
(105)




106            THE LAST ENEMY.
sickness, the small-pox, the yellow-fever, and the cholera.
In ancient and-in modern times, the plague has haunted
the cities of the East.  During three years of the
Peloponnesian war, it was in Athens, and% furnished a
terrible theme to the descriptive powers of Thacydides.
Out of an expedition of 4000 men, 1050 died in forty
days. It was fatal, perhaps, to Pericles; certainly to
almost all his family. In the time of Justinian, 10,000
died of it daily in Constantinople; and, in a solemn
procession at Rome for imploring deliverance, eighty
dropped dead in one hour. When it passed over Europe,
in 1345 and several succeeding years, Florence lost
100,000 of its population; Venice, 100,000; Naples,
60,000; Genoa, 40,000; and Trapani, in Sicily, all its
inhabitants.  It was computed, that in Asia and Africa,
23,000,000 had perished; and in Europe, sometimes a
fifth, a third, and even three-fourths and nineteen-twentieths were supposed to have died from different cities
and provinces. No visitation so dreadful has befallen
the earth- since the deluge. In the plague of 1406,
30,000 -died in London; in that of 1603, 35,000; as
many in that of 1625; and -68,000 in that of 1665,
when, at times, about 1000 were buried daily. By the
plague, Brussels, in 1489, lost 30,000, and in 1578
almost as many; in 1711, 30,000 died at Copenhagen;
in 1720, 30,000, half of the whole population, at Marseilles, and a still larger proportion at Toulon; and in
1743, 20,000 at Messina. Its propagation, for a century past, has been prevented by the strict precautions
of every Christian people; but in Egypt, where, in
1801, while the French army suffered little, 1.50-000
natives perished; at Constantinople, where, in the autumn and winter of 1836, 100,000 were swept away;
and at Bagdad, where, amidst a tremendous destruction,




TI-E LAST ENEMY.              107
the accomplished Rich was its victim; it is much more
than an occasional visitant.  Amongst those who have
died by the plague, were Joanna, daughter of Edward
the Third, who was seized at Bayonne, where she had
just met her betrothed  bridegroom; Holbein, the
painter; Conrad Gesner, Jansenius, Simon Grynceus,
Capito, and the dramatic poet Fletcher.
The small-pox is first mentioned in the seventh century,
and amongst the Saracens.  Its ravages seem to have
become more and more terrible, till they were checked
by the discovery of inoculation, and then of vaccination.
At this day, the traveller in Europe is surprised at the
number -of faces which bear its marks, and can judge
how great a host must have fallen before these preventives were suggested.  The younger Queen Mary of
England, Louis the Fifteenth,;Joseph the First, and the
great metaphysician and divine Jonathan Edwards, were
thus removed from the world.
The sweating-sickness was an epidemic which visited
England and the north of Europe about the beginning
and middle of the sixteenth century.  It swept away
the learned Colet, and the two young Dukes of Suffolk,
oln- swhom many hopes reposed; and in a week eight
hundred died in London. It was probably some fever,
like those which are often infectious, but seldom'spread,
themselves over so large a surface.
The yellow-fever has been terribly destructive -in
single ports within the warmer latitudes, especially in
America; but disappears with particular seasons, and
does not extend into the country. At Malaga, in 1803,
almost 12,000 were its prey.
The cholera, originating in India, repeatedly passed
over the Asiatic continent to Russia, Poland, Germany,
the shores of the Atlantic, Great Britain, and the




108             THE LAST ENEMY.
United States.  Its path was determined by no clear
law, but was marked by the graves of thousands on
thousands.  In some Oriental towns; in lHungary,
Bohemia, and Russia, the mortality far exceeded even
that which was witnessed in the most crowded of the
manufacturing communities of England.  Amongst its
dead, it has numbered Adam Clarke, Casimir Perier,
and Marshal Bugeaud.
A disease was introduced into Napless, in 1792, by
the Jews who were banished from Spain, of which 20,000
perished.  Confinement in close prisons has produced
fevers of fatal malignity; so that the number of persons
who died in the British prison-ships at New York, during the Revolution, has been reckoned at more than
eleven thousand. Once, in an English court, the judge,
the sheriffW most of the jury, and a numerous company
of persons present at a trial, were fatally infected
with the disease brought from the jail by the prisoners.
The scurvy may be' reckoned  amongst pestilential
maladies: it destroyed more than half of the crew of
Lord Anson's squadron.  The dreadful leprosy, too, is
contagious; and the influenza has assumed a very deadly
aspect.
Whatever terrors belong to the death of individuals,
by rapid, distressing and sharp disease, are accumulated
in pestilence.  It is always speedy, and not seldom
loathsome; and, especially amongst Pagans, has been
attended by scenes of revolting selfishness, or criminal
desperation. Pestilences have abounded in armies, have
haunted besieged cities, have been very fatal at sea,
have followed in the track of famine. Whole tribes of
savages, ignorant of all remedies, have been cut off, almost to a man.  Families are thinned at a stroke, or
entirely extirpated; cities are- full of mourners; and




THE -LAST ENEMY.             109
death becomes a calamity of nations. It seems, and it
is, a direct interposition of Omnipotence, hastening the
doom of millions, and clothing it with peculiar dread;
that all the, world may start in its slumber, and feel
itself dying.




XX.
"1Each season has its own disease,
Its peril every hour."
HEBER.
THE universal necessity of death has made every
scene a witness, and every object an instrument of its
accomplishment. lMan cannot live and move without
subjection to the possibility of many accidents, of which
any one may be fatal.  The more he multiplies his
-weapons and aids, for self-defence, for labour, or for
pleasure, the more he varies the armoury of death.
-A fall from a tree or a precipice breaks the bones of
the strong barbarian, for whom there is no remedy.
Afterwards, when lofty edifices have been erected, workmen fall from scaffolds and ladders, heedless visitors'from battlements, venturous persons from  towers and
steeples; men in- their own houses, like Bruce the traveller, from the staircase; or like King Ahaziah, from a
lattice or window.  Seamen are tossed from the yard
or mast upon the'deck. Perhaps the whole frame is
crushed; perhaps the neck is dislocated, and death is
instant; perhaps the brain receives a mortal shock; perhaps the bruised sufferer lingers hopelessly under manifold injuries.
The wild beasts of the forest and the desert are often
the foes of man, or at least sacrifice him to their hunger.
Lions tear the poor Hottentot; wolves devour the
Scythian shepherd; the tiger springs from the Indian
(110)




THE LAST ENEMY.                 11i
jungle on his prey; the hyena steals to the unguarded
tent, and seizes the sleeping infant; the crocodile fixes
its teeth in the bathing Egyptian; the shark cuts off
the limbs of the seaman; the envenomed-snake plants
its fang in the heel of the passer. Those animals whom
man has subjected -become sometimes the causes of his
end: the dog, through his bite in the frenzy of disease;
the horse, through his kick; the bull and elephant, by
direct assault in moments of fury. Even bees and hornets in swarms;- spiders and scorpions of a poisonous
nature; and the loathsome and ferocious rat, have inflicted death.
When any. of the quadrupeds have become beasts of
burden, and men mount upon them, or upon the vehicles
which they transport, the caprice of the animal, or any
of a thousand accidental obstructions, may be the occasion of a destructive overthrow. The heir of the dynasty
of Orleans was one of the many who have been fatally
stunned by leaping from a carriage in a moment of danger. Theodosius the Second was killed by a fall from
his horse; so perished Louis d'Outremer; so Isabella,
wife -of Philip -the Hardy, of France; so Alexander
the Third, of Scotland; so Casimir the Third, of Poland;
so the laborious writer, -Birch; so the ingenious Day,
kicked by the animal that had thrown him; so Unwin,
the friend of Cowper; while William  the Conqueror
received from his horse a blow which resulted in a fatal
rupture; Louis the Third, a mortal injury from striking
against the top of a doorway through which he was
dashing in hot pursuit; and Bembo, fromn bruising his
leg, against a wall as- he rode. The overturn of a stagecoach put an end to the life of-Bishop Kemp, of Maryland.  When steam  became the agent of speed-in
travelling, the agent and the increased speed were alike




112             THE:: LAST.-ENEMY.
perilous; and Huskisson, crushed under the tremendous
wheels, was one of the first of a numerous company of
sufferers. Scalded by the exploding boilers, or torn in
the violent concussion, or hurled down the precipitous
embankment; by water and by land alike, men have
purchased greater triumphs over distance by exposure
to deaths more sudden and shocking.
Fire is an enemy that can commonly be avoided, but
never resisted. It sometimes seizes the sleeper; the infirm, the heedless, the child; breaks out beneath the
chamber, darts from street to street, envelopes the vessel,-and shuts up every avenue of escape. The wounded
Emperor Valens was consumed in a cottage by his
enemies; and Alcibiades perished between the flames
and -the darts of the pursuers. A sick prince, in the
-dark ages, wrapped up by empirics in clothes all covered
with combustible ointments, was accidentally touched
by the candle of a servant, and perished by flames which
reached his very bones. - Of six masquers, quaintly
dressed, of whom Charles the Sixth of France was one,
four were burned to death by a like accident. The Viscountess Molesworth and her two daughters;.the Marchioness- of Salisbury; Lord and Lady Walsingh.am; the
brother of Archbishop Cranmer, were all burned in the
accidental conflagration of splendid mansions. Three
thousand were supposed-to have died, between the water
and the fire, when, about the beginning of the thirteenth
century, London Bridge was in flames.: In the midst
of a bright festival, held in the palace. and. gardens of
Prince Schwartzenberg, on the marriage of!Napoleon, a
fire broke out, and the sister of the Prince, with several
other persons, perished. When the theatre at Rich-.mond was burned, the Governor of Virginia, with many
persons of eminence in society, was buried in its smok



THE LAST ENEMY.               11-3
ing ruins. With -equally fatal rage, fire in the forests
or on the prairies has surprised travellers, or enwrapped
scattered habitations.
The weapons designed for labour or for war prove
often the accidental instruments of destruction.  With
a careless stroke, the mower inflicts a fatal wound; the
husbandman falls from the hay-loft on the points of his
own pitchfork; the woodman gashes his foot with an
axe; and death ensues, after mortification, lockjaw, or
excessive bleeding.  The shaft of a hunter slew William
Rufus; Archbishop Abbot was so unhappy as to slay a
man while he awkwardly aimed the crossbow at a deer;
and many a time has the gun, held in a heedless hand,
lodged its load in the bosom.  Like Henry the Second
pf France, Geoffrey, son of Henry the Second of
England, was accidentally killed at a tournament.
Rocks, exploded by gunpowder; mills, for its manufacture, and magazines, flashing at a spark; heavy pieces
of ordnance, bursting with terrific violence, have shattered and,hurled afar off the frames of men: so, in an
hour of gayety, several of the highest officers - of the
United States were destroyed before the face of the
President, Tyler.  In 1824, an explosion at Cairo'was
fatal to.4000 persons.
Machinery is an intensity of mechanical power; and
such powea:inot be closely approached without possible hazardato  the human system and its feeble integuments.  The immense wheel hurries round; and if the
arm bea::tight by a band, drawn under a roller, or torn
by sharp points, it is often the instantaneous assurance
of a dreadful end, if it be not that end itself.
By the slightest and the strangest casualties; by the
descent of a window upon the neck; by the entrance
of a piece of glass, from a bottle held between the
10*




114              THIE LAST ENEMY,
knees, in the act -of drawing; by -swallowing pins; by
the pressure of a cat on the breast of an infant; by a
sudden check in riding or running; by every variety of
incident, the common doom has at one time or another
been executed. Bishop Kidder was killed in his bed,
and his wife with him, by the- fall of a stack of chimneys, in a great tempest. Anacreon is said to have
been choked by a grape-stone; Pope Adrian the Fourth,
by a fly.  The- pressure of a crowd has crushed multitudes besides th'e nobleman in the gate of Samaria.  It
is probable, that at least one death in fifty may be the
result of some fatal casualty.




XXI.,eaa t) from.eE-riut   ~rgafnilatio n.
" c, Short was thy span; but Heaven, whose wise decrees,
Had made that shortened span one long disease,'In chastening merciful, gave ample scope
For mild, redeeming virtues, faith and hope,
Meek resignation, pious charity;
And, since this world was not the world for thee,
Far from thy path removed, with watchful care,,
Fame, glory, gain, and pleasure's flowery snare;
Bade earth's temptations pass thee harmless by,
And fixed on heaven thinie unaverted eye."
CANNING.
SOIE of the children of men are born with frames
so deficient in some of the common requisites to the
preservation:of animal life, that they are necessarily
doomed Iia;t I:e. ly dissolution.  These die, often in the
earliest mo6fithd sof their existence; sometimes, after lingering in much suffering through several years; sometimes, when the defect is less important, after they have
been preserved with care to a much later period.  In
these, the general law of mortality has taken the form
of a special provision, to be effectual in the: defective part
of the organization.
Not' unfrequently  the  mind is' through the same
cause, incapable of much development.  In mountainous
countries, like the Swiss Valais, are found those decrepit cretins, whose bodies are so painfully mnisshapen,
while their intellect- is more or less sunken in a state
approaching idiocy. With such; it would be strange if
life could reach its common limits.  Where the organi(115)




116              THE LAST ENEMY.
zation of the brain is defective, all nervous action suffers;
and the point at which the vital principle is in contact
with matter becomes liable to destructive'influences
from every side.  Where the heart is marked by some
malformation, the circulation nmust always labour, till
the organs give way, or become exhausted and stand
still.  Where the lungs or the digestive functions are,
originally imperfect, the life must be imperfectly indued
with the power of self-preservation.  When a defect or
deformity is external, we perceive its injurious operation; but this is only the mightier when all is within.
Not- dissimilar to these appear some instances in which
the connection between the vital principle and the bodily
organization seemed singularly easy of rupture.  In
July, 1846, a young lady died suddenly at Cincinnati,
apparently from excessive heat.  The next day, her sister died in the same -manner, on her return from the
burial; and a third sister, on the third day, returning
from the second burial, died also in the carriage.  It
appeared, on an inquest in England, that sixteen persons of one family had, at different times, died of
bleeding, without having received any serious injuries.
With malformation of the system  must be- closely
associated that hereditary transmission of- early and.
fatal disease, which makes of death, not a mere submission to the universal law, not an accidentally premature
occurrence, but a necessary result of specific causes
born in the individual.  Scrofulous affections, and an
inevitable tendency to consumption, are sometimes so
planted from the birth, that children; and even families
of children, descend, without any other than this original cause, and notwithstanding every preventive measure,
to the grave of their kindred, before they can attain
the strength of maturity.  It would be indeed a melan



THE LAST ENEMY.                117
choly sight, were the human destiny limited to this life,
and were not the very scene of early death so often the
scene of the purest triumphs of hope over sorrow and
suffering.
Among those who are thus marked from the first,
although often there may be no outward, at least, no
decisive sign, names of celebrity cannot, of course, be
recorded. But parents have thus outlived a large circle,
amongst whom their hopes were once divided, till, while
one after another fell like the blossoms in spring, they
have felt it as a providential appointment that they
themselves should die alone. At other times, the chil-'dren have been early deprived of their parents, and
reserved only for a short orphanhood; and the inheritance of that peculiar fragility that could not pass
beyond a single generation.  If the world has felt less
of interest in such deaths, as such'lives may have
seemed to promise it less of vigorous operation, yet they
have been the centres of an unspeakable mass of private
and domestic feeling.
It is not always true, on the other hand, that the imperfections of the bodily organization, or its seeds of
innate disease, have made the intellect feeble or languid.
The very cause which has shortened the days has sometiines given them a wonderful brilliancy.  That common
class of proverbs, which, in; all ages, have assigned a
brief date to powers singularly developed, have their
foundation.  Some of the extraordinary instances of
mental precocity which have delighted or amazed mankind, and ceased with an early death, have been, no
doubt, connected with strong tendencies to disease of the
brain, or to a development unequal, and therefore
irregular and dangerous.
It would be very affecting, could we see the process




11&              THE LAST ENEMY.
by which so many emphatically begin to die when they
begin to live. As in a defective piece of mechanism,
the absence' or weakness of one part is the occasion of
a continual strain upon others, or of an imperfect action
of the whole.; All is thus weakened by degrees, even
while the natural accessions of force, as the system
grows towards maturity, furnish some counteraction.
The struggle between the powers:of life and the deficiency of their instruments is vainly prolonged; for the
deficiency is one which no possible addition to the
strength of any other quarter could overcome.  At
length, the encroachments of disease are manifest: the
enfeebled frame gives up its painful resistance; some
accident, perhaps, however trivial, hastens the fatal
progress; and; the life which -never knew health, is
closed.




XXII.
rtatt ftrom    ieUNe     inviintat to
r:ut- or  to  Etru.
-" The besprinkled nursling, unrequired,Till he begins to smile upon the breast
That feeds'him; and the-tottering little one
Taken from air and sunshine, when the rose
Of infancy first blooms upon his cheek;
The thinking, thoughtless schoolboy; thfe bold youth.Of, soul impetuous, and the bashful maid
Smitten while all the promises of life
Are opening round her."
WORD SWORTH.
A CLASS of diseases, often more or less infectious,.befall so large a part of mankind, that they may be
viewed as the common lot of a certain age and of certain -localities.  They are not seldom  fatal to life, although, in their nature and under favourable circumstances, they do not necessarily inflict on the system
any considerable shock.
The mere growth of the teeth causes, in many infants, a suffering which, especially when.united with
other inconveniences, is capable, of becoming destructive
to the frail receptacle of an immortal spirit. A general
disease and commonly a slight one, the whooping-cough,
yet sometimes exhausts the vital powers of little children.
Still more dreaded, for its occasional severity, is the
measles, an eruptive malady of every degree.of violence,
infectious and not unfrequently mortal.  Less common
and far more terrible, the scarlet fever assails the youth(119)




120              THE LAST ENEMY.
ful family; and, when it takes its severer forms, sometimes sends several members at once to the grave. It
deprived both France and England of heirs; to the
crown; France; of the Duke of Burgundy, grandson of
Louis the Fourteenth and pupil of Fenelon; England,
of the Duke of Gloucester, the son of Queen Anne.
In certain regions, diseases are caused by the climate
and atmosphere, such as are more fatal to strangers,
but sometimes, though seldom, wear out the strength
of- the native inhabitant..  Such are the agues and intermittent fevers of new countries, where the marshes
fill the atmosphere with unwholesome vapours; and
such, the indigenous complaints of tropical climates.
No human care can avoid these maladies. They are
not, in the usual sense, accidental, but rather the necessary appendages of our earthly condition. They are
severally allotted to different lands, but no land is exempt from them all.  Some of them are but once the
lot of an individual; others may break down the frame
by successive encroachments. They argue no special
infirmity of the constitution.  They spring from no extraordinary circumstance.  It is appointed that men
should pass by-the way of some such perils, and that
many should fall by this necessity.
At certain seasons of the year, one-fourth of the
deaths in the city of New York are ascribed to cholera
infantum, to -convulsions and to teething. At all seasons, convulsions furnish, to the classification of the fatal
diseases, one of the largest numbers.  The croup often
dashes the cup of parental hope with an-appalling sud-:denness. Another affection, extremely fatal to children,
and into which other maladies easily pass, is dropsy of
the brain; which, when it becomes seated, is necessarily though not painfully mortal. Complaints of the




THE LAST ENEMY.                  121
bowels also exhaust the feeble powers of a life so precarious. Scrofula, often transmitted by- hereditary descent, exhibits itself in a variety of forms, and frequently
mrakes a brief existence anxious and full of distress.
Perhaps the proportion of such deaths to all beside
is greater rather than less, as society advances from
barbarism to refinement.  The savage wanders not far
from-the region of his birth; and local diseases fasten
chiefly upon strangers.  If the frame of the young
Barbaria,n has survived the first shock of exposure to
the rudeness of the- forest state, it will not be very
liable to those imperceptible assaults which fix disease
in the little children just escaped from their delicate
cradles and warm nurseries.  Light causes break upon
the firm texture of a system  hardened by early dangers.  But, through such dangers, many must first
have perished. The rough winds may sooner check
the early blossom  of life from without, although, if it
be able to resist them, the inward strength of the
plant may afterwards be greater for the trial. Fewer
children, it is probable, grow up, amongst the same
number that are born,;in the wilderness than in the
city.  But fewer fall by absolute diseases of this class,
and more without maladies, through simple exposure,
harsh treatment and neglect. In civilized and savage
society alike, the younger portion of the human race is
thus thinned by causes which are quite unavoidable
and resistless. An infant must, as it were, fight his
way up to youth through enemies, by whom  a large
part of the army to which he b'elongs are cut off on the
road. Even youth and manhood are not exempt from
such a warfare; all are exposed, some sink, and many
escape for other dangers.




XXIII.
Xt at    in   c(bihbirthf
"Visiting the bridal bower,
Death hath levelled root and flower."
SOUTHEY.
ONE form of death was the peculiar remembrancer of
the original order in transgression. As'woman had
first yielded, so she was to bear her own special sorrow.
The pains amidst which a child. is born into the world
are sometimes death; and they link themselves with
diseases, their precursors and their -consequences,
through which the very season of highest joy is also a
season of apprehension and anxiety, and sometimes of
rapid transition into bitter mourning.
With such mourning Jacob wept at Bethlehem, over
the beloved wife of his youth, Rachel, who gave him
Benjamin at the price of her own life. The daughterin-law of Eli, when she heard of the slaughter of her
husband and his brother, the defeat of Israel, and the
capture of the ark of God, bowed herself and travailed;
and died, after she had given birth and a melancholy
name to an infant son-"-the glory departed."  In
secular history, similar scenes arrest our eyes as we
look along that course -of events, which, indeed, -can
scarcely be traced in its domestic influences, except
where the palaces of the great and royal have fallen in
its way.  The young Princess Charlotte, daughter of
George the Fourth, carried with her to such a grave the
(122)




THE LAST ENEMY.                123
warmest hopes of a nation.  Joanna, sister of Richard
the First, and Blanche, sister of his Queen, died thus,
both within a few days; and thus died Isabella, the
second Queen of Richard the Second; Elizabeth, Queen
of'Henry the Seventh; Isabella, Queen of Portugal,
and Jane Seymour, mother of Edward  the Sixth.
Whether it be that the young and lovely are pre-eminently exposed to such peril, or that the union of joyous expectations with forebodings too fatally realized
gives a sad charm- to such deaths, or that -the approaching hour casts a peculiar, tender shadow over the spirit
of the sufferer, or that there seems something like an
involuntary generosity. in dying that another may
have life, whatever' be the exact cause, such deaths
are remembered with an interest all their own.  A
child  dates his own  existence, with a mysterious,
affectionate gratitude, from the dying hour of a mother
whom he never beheld.  But very often the spirits of
mother and child have departed almost together; and
the solemn seal of death, placed on the volume of
one life, has left that of another unopened for this
world.
It is probable that this cause of death, also, is far
more fatal in a refined state of society than. amongst
barbarians. But, even in our own cities, scarcely one
birth in two hundred is mortal to the parent: scarcely
one death, in as large a number, is in childbed. This
cause, as almost. the only stroke peculiar to the one sex,
may be placed in the balance against the manifold accidents which attend on the more active pursuits of the
other.  It is not sufficient to equalize the scales; and
the average age of the female sex is the greatest.
Although foremost in that sin which brought death into
the world, that sex has clasped with readiest affection




124              THE LAST ENEMY.
the sovereign remedy; ard even its treater length of
days may be viewed as a pledge like that afforded by
the birth of Him who-was born of a virgin; a token of
the completeness of redemption, since the restoration
is most entire where the fall began.




XXIV.
uteat   from    uabbin   Berangcmunt of
"His spirit, with a bound,
Burst its encumbering clay:
His tent, at sunrise, on the ground,
A blackened ruin lay."
MONTGOMERY,
LIFE often closes through a sudden and entire derangement of the vital organs. There may have been
a morbid preparation for such a blow; there may have
been an internal decay beyond the scope of accurate
observation, or, perhaps, of possible knowledge; but an.
unforeseen touch forces the fatal instant on, and almost
in that instant death begins and ends.
Thus, many fall by the effusion of blood upon the
brain, or by the rupture of vessels near the heart, or
in other vital regions; and apoplexy or paralysis closes
the career of a very large proportion of those who survive beyond the first years of decline towards age. The
accumulation of blood upon the brain, when it is mighty
enough to-be the occasion of fatal apoplexy, is often
extremely sudden, often absolutely instantaneous. Men
have died thus, in moments when any thing rather than
death was expected by their-companions.  Several great
American advocates, Pinkney, Harper, Winder, Emmet,
and Wells, sank in the midst of forensic efforts. Bishop
Heber, returning from the services of the sanctuary,
11*                (125)




126             THIE LAST E~NEAY.
exhausted with heat, went into a bath, and was found
lifeless.  The Empress  Catharine the Second bwas
smitten down in her private closet. Euler dropped to
the ground while he was playing with his grandchildren;
Bochart, while engaged in a discussion at the academy;
Hermann and Sands while writing; and Clarke, a divine
of Boston, and several other clergymen, in the midst
of sermons.  King David the First of Scotland, Sir
Charles- Bell, Bishop Jolly, and Dr. Chalmers, were
found dead in their beds. Amongst'those who, have
died of apoplexy are also enumerated the Popes Martin
the Fifth and Innocent the Eighth, the Sultan Achmet
the Third, Charles the Eighth of France, Charles the
Second of England, John the Third of Portugal, Matthias Corvinus, two successive Dukes of Orleans, St.
Francis, de Sales, Sir Thomas Gresham, Lord Somers,
Sir Peter Lely, Matthew Henry,' Samuel Clarke, Vitringa, Spallanzani, Fracastorio, Mrs. Rowe, Garrick,
Cheselden, the two Rousseaus,-Marmontel, the gram
marian Adam, the historian Belknap.
A stroke of paralysis surprised Archbishop Whitgift
on his way to the council-chamber; and Archbishop
Tillotson during divine service, which he would not interrupt:'both lingered for two or three days, almost
speechless. - Those' excellent prelates, Bramhall, Cumberland, and Horne, died- also of paralysis; and so died
the Emperor Henry the Fowler, Pope Pius the Sixth,
Ben Jonson, Harrington, Hobbes, Lord King, Lord
]Ieathfield, the painter Barry, William Hunter, Foote,
Poussin, Richardson the novelist, Halley, Thomas War
ton, Gilbert West, Smeaton, Cuvier, Sir Walter Scott,
and John Quincy Adams.  The original stroke, however, though sudden, has often been but the commencement of a weakness of years: thus,:Bishop Jebb l:iived




THE LAST ENEMY.               127
ten years, a patient invalid and a valuable author.
Henry the Fourth of England died of epilepsy; the
same disease snatched away the youthful Buckminster.
Diseases of the heart are often fatal at last, by an
instantaneous -blow, though less often than is popularly
imagined. IKing George the Second died in a moment,
through the rupture of the right ventricle.' The celebrated John Hunter was seized with a spasm of the
heart, at a meeting of surgeons, and died almost instantly. Bishop Berkeley was stretched on a couch,
and listening while a sermon was reads his daughter
approached to give him a dish of tea, and found him
already stiff. Doctor Arnold, without previous disease,
awoke with a sharp pain in his chest, and at the end of
two or three hours breathed his last, as his father -had
died-' before him. Lord George Bentinck died while
walking to a neighbouring mansion to dinner., Bishop
Griswold sank at the door of his assistant and successor.
Of disease of the heart, too, but not suddenly, died the
pure Bishop Ryder.
Amongst those who have'passed out of this mortal
life by almost instantaneous prostration from different
causes, was the renowned Earl Godwin, who died while
at dinner with his sovereign.  In later timesj the Earl
of Dorset, at the council-board, died of dropsy on the
brain. Diderot arose from table, and fell dead. Pr'e
Potemkin, the favourite of the Russian Empress, alight::d
from his carriage under a tree, and there expired. The
great -Prince Eugene suddenly breathed his last in his
bed, after retiring for the night. Bishop Fletcher was
sitting in his'chair smoking -the tobacco, then just introduced into England, when, with an exclamation to
his servant, he fell back and died within fifteen minutes.
Heyne died while washing his hands in the morning.




128              THE LAST ENEMY.
Petrarch was found sitting in his chair dead, with his
book before him.
Every man has within his own recollecti-o-  some
deaths like these, from the circle of his acquaintance.
In early life, they are heard with a peculiar dread; and
to some minds the thought of such an end is always
alarming.  So often, too, is it attended with distress to
affectionate survivors, surpassing that of the usual shock,
and so large a portion of mankind are unprepared for
immediate departure, that the Church may well include
in its prayers, a petition -for deliverance from sudden
death..But, apart from this distress of survivors, he
who strives to watch from day to day, and from hour to
hour, may come to an entire acquiescence in that manner of death appointed him, secure that even, the most
instantaneous stroke has its peculiar and evident-alleviations.




xxv
Death~ from BnfiammIntnlnr Ibeat+
" You pitying saw
To infant weakness sunk the warrior's arm;
Saw the deep, racking pang, the ghastly form,
The lip, pale quivering, and the beamless eye,
-No mote with ardour bright."
THOMSON.
THE- fatal diseases which may be termed accidental
in their occurrence are numerous and various, yet bear
a resemblance.  They do  not befall the whole human
race alike, or any one age, or any one people; but through
special circumstances in the condition or constitution of
individuals, seize them in the middle of their course, as
with a grasp of iron. These deaths as much startle
mankind as even those which are more abrupt; and,
from their very nature, they are preceded by even less
than the usual warnings, by which the probability of
sudden dissolution is at some distance dimly intimated.
Disease which, however instantaneous' its issue, has its
root deep in the system, may have given some token of
its existence; disease which is the offspring of occasion, can utter no sign till the occasion has arrived and
passed.
Such are the mortal attacks of fevers. A slight exposure, a cold, an occasion that often cannot be traced,
is followed by one of these manifold fires within. They
hold within their reach every part which is most needful
to the continuance of life; and every organ may be
(129)




130              THE LAST -ENEMY.
their prey.  They are either vehemently infectious; or,
like the typhus, capable of communication rather than
easily communicated; or not communicable, in any degree which can be appreciated, like the common bilious
fevers, and most of the inflammatory maladies. They
are often accompanied by delirium; always, sooner or
later, by prostration.  Under the extreme heat of the
attack, life is sometimes, as it were, consumed; at other
times it is unable to revive, when all has subsided.  A
few days, or a fortnight, must commonly decide the recovery or the dissolution.
Fever, the result of extreme intoxication, overpowered the strength of Alexander the Great-  Henry the
First of England died of a; fever, caused by indigestion.  A  fever -hurried away the fiery spirit of that
martial Pope, Julius the Second. A fever was fatal to
the great Emperor, Charles the Fifth.  Lord Bacon
took a cold-through some experiments with snow, and
died a week after, of a light fever, which was too much
for an enfeebled constitution.  A cold, caught on' the
Thames, caused, by a similar process, the death -of
Hooker.  Bunyan, from exposure in the rain, /was in
the same manner overtaken by a fatal fever of ten days.
Barrow died, rather suddenly, of a malignant fe~vr which
affected the brain. A burning.fever dried up ti[e energies of Mirabeau, in the midst of his power and renown.
IHoche, seized with a cold, through his strenuous exertions, sank under a consequent fever. Putrid fever cut
short the days of Akenside, and of Condillac. Kepler,
Rapin, Jeremy Taylor, Owen, Thomas Fuller, Glanvil,
John Gale, the physician Freind; and the poets Racine,
Gay, Prior, Goldsmith, Thoms-on, Churchill, Burns,
Byron, all died of fevers, and most of them in their
prime.




THIE LAST ENEMY.              1331
That violent disease, the pleurisy, removed Corregio
the painter, and Barthe the admiral. Mahomet the
Second died of a vehement colic.  Burckhardt, and
Coryate, and many other travellers, have been the victims of dysentery, which closed the career of the royal
Saint Louis, on the African coast. Cromwell sank under
a tertian ague, and Cardinal Pole under a quartan.
Pym, Archbishop Dawes, Ilume, the sculptor Bacon,
Adam  Smith, all died of complaints of the bowels;
Boccace, of a disease of the stomach; the Emperor
Leopold the Second, of a diarrhoea; Margaret of Valois,
of a catarrh; Dacier, of an ulcer in the throat; Limborch, of erisypelas; Dryden and Waterland, of inflammation of the foot, through th6 growth of the nail
into the flesh; Bishops Babington and Senhouse, and
Lord Kenyon, of jaundice. The deaths of Francis the
First, of Shah Abbas, and of Raphael, are attributed
to the disgraceful fruits of vicious indulgence.
In youth, or in middle age, and sometimes too in
declining years, an accidental sickness thus withdraws
men rapidly from their activity, and their usefulness or
crimes.  The cause seems rather to come from without
than from within; or, at least, to be such as might
have been avoided, could it have been anticipated, and
could all circumstances have been arranged for prevention.  Such care, however, and such foreknowledge are
themselves impossibilities.  Some accidents might be
shunned; but no human prudence could anticipate and
escape all.  Some diseases of this order might be
checked at their beginning, or quite prevented by special
caution; but the seeds of many are beyond the most
penetrating observation. They are a necessary part of
the great system of mortality. As men are doomed to
die, so a large proportion of their number are to be re



132             THE LAST ENEMY.
moved by these visitations, more accidental in their
appearance, but appointed under the same law of dissolution. They have, like yet more sudden deaths, this
happy effect, that they never permit a mortal to feel
himself secure, at any age, in any health, after any precaution.




XXVI.
Peata         from    r rro ir          trar.
" Now spring returns; but not to me returns
The vernal joy my better years have known;
Dim in my breast life's dying taper burns,
And all-the joys of life with health are flown.
Startling and shivering in the inconstant wind,
Meagre and pale, the- ghost of what I was,
Beneath some blasted tree I lie reclined,
And count the silent moments as they pass;
The winged moments, whose unstaying speed
No art can stop, or in their course arrest;
Whose flight shall shortly count me with the dead,
And lay me down in peace with them that rest."
BRUCE.
THE gradual decay of some portions of the system,
the growth of some obstruction, the undue preponderance of some elements, or the deficiency of others,
through  the slow  operation  of chronic disease, is to
many of the children of men, both early and late, the
manner of the close.
In dropsy, through the accumulation of one elementary part of our organization, the system becomes deranged, and in-the end yields to the pressure., Its fatal
effects are more common in-advancing years.. It caused
the death of Robert Cecil, the famous Earl of Salisbury,
of Joseph Scaliger, Monk, Duke of Albemarle, Waller,
Maclaurin, Johnson, Gibbon, and Fox.  Dropsy in the
chest destroyed the lives of Bishop Cosin, of the pious
Nelson, and of Pope; and Sir Matthew Hale and Addison sank under dropsy with asthma.
12                 (133)




134                THE LAST ENEMY.
Gout, the painful, often hereditary malady, which,
after many years of occasional suffering, at length brings
down the edifice that has become thoroughly undermined, was destructive to Lord Shaftesbury, -Cond6,
Lord Roscommon, Betterton, Congreve, Gray, Helvetius, and the learned Bishops Stillingfleet, Gastrell, and
Conybeare.
The stone has been the torment of many men of
learning,, or of sedentary'habits. By some such complaints died the Popes Pius the Fifth and Gregory the
Fourteenth, the Czar Peter the Great, Tycho Brahe,
Luther, Linacre, Julius. Scaliger, Isaac Casaubon-, Sir
Kenelm Digby, Episcopius, Hammond, Bishop Wilkins,
Anthony Wood, Horneck, Jeremy Collier, Buffon, and
Sir Isaac Newton.  An ulceration of the bladder was
fatal to Linneus.
The accomplished Marquess of Halifax, Sir Williani
Petty, Sanderson the mathematician, and the learned
Jacob Bryant, died of gangrene. - So died the poet
Mason, after a wound which he received in alighting
from, his carriage; and so Puffendorf, after a slight inijury to one of his toes, in cutting the nail. Bishop
Kenn and Robert Hall were worn out by protracted
disease in the kidneys, and Christopher Smart by a
complaint of the liver.  The disease which Napoleon
inherited from his father, as' the source of his own death,
was' cancer in the stomach.
Chief, however, amongst all the causes of lingering
decay and death, is ithe consumption of the lungs; a
malady which sometimes has continued through onethird or one-half of the appointed years of man, and
sometimes has done its work in a few short weeks. The
hereditary tendency in many families; the originating
occasions; the gradual developments; the struggle be



THEE LAST ENEMY.               135
tween apprehension and' hope; the emaciation; the
hemorrhages; the peculiarly interesting traits which
often irradiate the countenance; the ultimate difficulty
of respiration; the final extinction of the breath; are
but too well known, and too often witnessed. Of those
who are thus removed, and who -form by far the largest
number of victims of any one' disease, as reckoned in
our'statistical tables, many are in the bloom of youth
or of early manhood. For this cause, -they have less
often attained celebrity than those whose path has been
closed by other maladies.  Still, the-bright signs of
precocious genius have frequently blazed up, only to be
extinguished by consumption. So, at sixteen, died that
young Josiah of England, Edward the Sixth; so, even
earlier, the sweet songstresses, Lucretia and Maria
Davidson; so, at twenty-one, ILenry Kirke White; so
Baratier, a prodigy of youthful learning.  But the
venerable Bede expired also under an asthmatic consumption; it exhausted the bodily endurance, but- not
the inward patience, of Donne.and Scougal, of Bishop
Davenant and Kettlewell, of Bishop Bagot and of
*Henry Thornton; it ended the days of Spinosa and of
Bayle, and withered -the laurels of B-iirger, of the
tender and profound Novalis, of the brilliant Keats in
all, his promise, and of our affectionate Brainard.
Those deep, internal maladies, which have their seat
in the whole system of the circulation, or which plant
decay in some particular organ, are met, it may be,
for a'time, and baffled by the resources of skill and experience.  The body may partially, perhaps almost
entirely, fulfil its work, even when -its powers have
become imperfect. With uneasiness and pain, however,
in some of its functions, it bears up against the obstruction.  The progress of the chronic disease is




136                THE LAST ENEMY.
sometimes imperceptible, and sometimes interrupted;
but the vital organization is ever like a besieged city.
Barrier after barrier yields, till the citadel itself is
assailed.  The powers of life offer there their last resistance; but it has become feebler after so many losses;
and at length the breath ceases, and the pulse throbs
no more.




XXVII.
Ptath  frnom- 01b l-e
" Like a shadow thrown
Softly and lightly from a passing cloud,
Death fell upon him.",
WoRDSWORTH..
IF  no violence interrupt the life of man; if he
escape the diseases incident to infancy, youth, and
manhood; if his frame be complete, and be preserved
from all'occasional perils, or preserved through them
all; if no particular portion of his system yield to a
premature decay, he may live on to~old age, the survivor of most of his contemporaries. -Death finds him at
last, through some lighter attack, which at an earlier
period would hardly have seemed a sickness; or through
a general cessation of all the wheels of life, as if they
were merely brought to a stand by the exhaustion of the
original force which had impelled their motion.  This
is the death of old age, when no- other cause, or no
other cause of importance, except old age-itself, can
be assigned for the general dissolution of physical
nature.
A nervous fever cut off, with little violence, the life
of the aged Kosciusko.  Bishop Hurd, having lived'to
a great age, much beyond fourscore, and having passed
his -closing years in a -dignified and devout seclusion,
fell asleep one night and- never awoke.  The still' more
venerable Bishop Barrington, at ninety-two, read the
12*             (137)




138              THE LAST ENEMY.
Sunday lessons to his household, told them it would be
for the last time, and a few days after expired, almost
imperceptibly to his attendants. In, like manner, Archbishop Harcourt, who died at ninety, had worshipped at
York minster on the Sunday before his death, and
ceased to live as if through mere exhaustion.  The
death of the elder Adams and of Jefferson on the same
day; and that day the anniversary, and the fiftieth
anniversary, of the most memorable event of their lives,
the Declaration of American Independence, is to be
explained, no doubt, by their extremely weak hold on
life-a hold so slight that it was relaxed by the excitement of the occasion and its recollections.
The ancient hermits and anchorets, after lingering
through an austere and solitary life, often, in the extreme of old age, dropped gently into the grave. Even
Simeon the Stylite became an old man upon his pillar,
from which he descended only to die. Paul, the first
monk, was found dead upon his knees. Anthony, his
successor, surrounded by his disciples, stretchedl himself out and expired. In.a milder retirement and later
age, Thomas a Kempis passed beyond his ninetieth
year.  Huet, the learned Bishop of Avranches, survived as long. Bishop Leslie was much more than a
hundred years old when he died, and Bishop Wilson at
ninety-two, Sir Christopher Wren at ninety-one, and
General Oglethorpe, the founder of Georgia, at ninetyseven, flickered and went out, like the last lights of their
generation. Yet the gay and frivolous Ninon de l'Enclos faded away also at more than ninety.
So the mortal frame may remain till its very organization is dissolved by its own natural, unavoidable decay. The decline is very often attended by a loss of
nuch of that intercourse with the external world which




THE LAST ENEMY.              139
is carried on through the senses and the memory. Much
of the beauty, as well as of the vigour of the form, has
long since departed. The eye has lost its brightness,
the skin its bloom, the hair has fallen from the hoary
head, the teeth are seen no more, the step is weak and
trembling; and every thing tells that man goeth to his
long home.  There is much of peace in this spectacle
of death, when death arrives merely in the latest and
easiest form'of gentle, gradual, natural decline. But it
is still a solemn fulfilment of that great sentence, which,
in so many forms, is executed upon the race of men;
thinning the ranks of a generation, and enfeebling more
and more the few who linger behind, till at length they
lie down and-sleep, as if weary with watching.




PART THE SECOND.
XXVIII.
i" Thou art the shadow of life; and as the tree
Stands in the sun, and shadows all beneath,
So in the light of great eternity,
Life eminent, creates the shade of death;
The shadow passeth when the tree shall fall."
TENNYSON.
THE  original doom  was death;  and it is death
which, by -all these various agencies, is sooner or later
accomplished in every human creature. From the wvide,
general survey, as if from a mountain which overlooks
all the vast family with their destinies, we now descend
as into the valley of- some individual lot, and consider
what is that death itself, which was thus denounced and
is thus executed.
Many may be the solemn precursors, many the sad
appendages, from which it may not be quite easy to,separate, even in thought, the event which gives them
their significance and importance.   But nothing  is
strictly a part of death, if it could have existed without
death, or is found at any time where life is continued.
However intense the suffering, however probable the
sign, it is not death if men have met it and survived.
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THE'LAST ENEMY.               141
The arms and legs' have all been amputated, and the
heart and lungs have still played with vigour.  Some
parts of the body have been entirely mortified, and
their removal has preserved the:rest. The action of the
brain, and with it life and sensibility, have existed for
a little while, when, through injury to the spine, the
whole body below the neck has been paralyzed. -Even,
when the brain itself has been so fatally assailed that
it could no more discharge its chief functions, and the
intellect has thus been utterly deprived of its own organ,
life may yet- linger on, while the life -of life is over.
Death is something beyond all these changes.  Suffering, in fact, belongs to life: all the pains of mortal
distress are on this side of the boundary.
There is an expression by which those who watch a
sick-bed, without scientific knowledge, often distinguish
the state of actual dying from all previous suffering,
however fatal in its issue. They speak of the sufferer
as: at length "-struck with death;" meaning, that a certain change in his symptoms has occurred, which is
never seen except when death is certainly at hand; that
a point is passed which can never be repassed. He
may still breathe, be conscious, speak and act, for
hours; but a hand is upon him which cannot be mistaken, and will not be withdrawn. This popular mode
of speech has its foundation. The actual dissolution of
the bond between the body and the vital principle is begun, and is proceeding, and cannot be long delayed. It
is not the same thing with any previous progress of
decay in one organ, or in all. It is the lapse of the
whole system from the state of organization into the
state of dissolution. The- beams may before have been
weakened, or, one after another, removed; but now the
building is falling to the ground.




142               THE LAST ENEMI
Such, as to the body, is death; the absolute cessation.
of all which makes matter the instrument and dwelling,
not only of the spirit, which is in man; but also of the
soul or animating power which is in'brutes; and of the
vital operation which is in vegetables; and even of the
cohesion which is in minerals.  A -dead body ceases to
have an existence of its -own: the merest stone has
more: every moment carries off some of its atoms, till
all have joined the surrounding elements, so far as the
process can be traced by human eye or science.  The
particles of the stone adhere to one another, till they
are forcibly driven asunder, or are separated by chemical action; the particles of the human body, after death,
fall asunder of themselves, or through the chemistry of
nature.
But the stone has no life; and there is life in the
flower or shrub; life, from that great vital stream which
pervades the universe; but a life simply passive.  A
similar life is that which carries on the involuntary operations of the human frame; and, in death, this life, too,
is removed.  Digestion, absorption, secretion, circulation, are, as it were, the vegetable parts of man; the
power which gives them action returns at death into the
general current of natural operations, from which it has
been set apart in his person.
The brute has still a higher life: h&eis conscious of
the vital stream: he feels, acts, resists, consents, dimly
remembers, almost reasons.  His is the same life which,
in man, performs these various operations, so that, in
certain states, when they are performed in, the least
measure, as in infancy, in idiocy, or when the brain has
been grievously injured, little more is seen in man than
in the inferior animals. In death, the senses go out,
even before the corporeal machinery comes to an utter




THE LAST ENEMY.                143
pause-; and this animal life, too, passes from our sight
and from its h.abitation.
That highest life of all; that which belongs, amongst
all visible creatures, to man alone; that life of the spirit,
which makes him capable of speech, and. thus of distinct
thought; which makes him a moral being, and therefore
responsible to his Maker; that life returns not to the
dust, nor to the current- of vital powers which animates
plants or brutes, for it came.not from these sources.
But it disappears like the rest; this moment it is here,
perhaps as clear, as, vigorous as ever; the next, we
gaze on that which has neither power, nor sensibility,
nor expression, and which is as far below the meanest
living things as it was lately exalted above them.
The dissolution of the body, the withdrawal of the
vital soul, the departure of the immortal spirit; this is
death.




XXIX.
Smmebiate d aue of Ieat +
c" Oft have I seen a timely-parted ghost,
Of ashy semblance, meagre, pale, and bloodless,
Being all descended'to the labouring heart;'Who, in the conflict that it holds with death,
Attracts the same for aidance'gainst the enemy;
Which, with the heart, there cools and ne'er returneth
Toblush, and beautify the cheek again.
But see, his face is black and full of blood;
His eyeballs further out than when he lived;
His hair upreared, his nostrils stretched with struggling;
His hands -abroad displayed, as one that grasped
And tugged for life, and was by strength subdued."
SHAKSPEARE.
THE life of the body may be destroyed by a shock
which in an instant destroys the materials of the body
itself. An explosion might tear limb from limb, and
leave nowhere a sufficient portion of the frame to be
recognised as human. However uncommon it be, such
an instantaneous disruption of all which makes up the
corporeal man is conceivable and possible.
In several kinds of violent death, the vital organs
are directly rent asunder, or swept away. A cannonball may remove the head, the heart, or the bowels.
The wheels of a railroad car may leave only a shapeless
mass behind.  When the axe falls, the twin-seats of
life are as utterly severed as if, the whole world lay
between them. - These are forms of death which require no explanation; the machinery of life exists no
more.
(144)




THE LAST ENEMY.               145
A violent shock from within may in a similar manner
break some vital cord, aiid disconnect parts that are
essential to the very existence of the system.  Such is
the death caused by the rupture of an aneurism, or of
some important blood-vessel.  More often, a portion of
the frame may be so oppressed that the vital action
must cease; as in effusions on the brain.
Decay of some of the organs, as of the lungs, may
permit them to act till the instrument itself, more and
more imperfect, becomes at last absolutely incapable of
its office; and then obstructions intervene, and all is
stopped.  Through the inability of the lungs, an accumulation often takes place in the throat and upon the
organs of respiration themselves, sufficient to suppress
their already hesitating action.
The direct abstraction of large quantities of blood,
from outward wounds or inward heemorrhage, may produce such- extreme weakness, and so deprive the body
of its nutriment, that life shall be relinquished, as if for
lack of fuel.  Or, the substance of the frame, or of
some of its parts, may become so changed and corrupted,
as by gangrene, that the processes of circulation are
checked, and the vital organs fail.
These are some of the immediate causes of dissolution.
But often, the violence of an inflammatory attack seems
so much to hurry the organic motions in one part, -or to
impede them in others, that the system  becomes deranged and exhausted. Death may begin at the head,
the heart, or the lungs; but, whatever be the process,
the result, if all the organs remain, is, that the lungs
pause in their play, the heart ceases to beat, the head
is senseless, and every movement in every part is at an
end for ever.  Bacon still makes the distinction of supposing "c that the immediate cause of death is the reso13




146             THE LAST ENEMY.
lution or extinguishment of the spirits; and that the
destruction or corruption of the organs is but the
mediate cause;" a distinction founded perhaps on the
nature of animal life, but Which only pushes back the
operating power into a more mysterious region.




XXX.
4Stbtnmtul  of Snat
" At length, no more his deafened ear
The minstrel melody can hear;
His face grows sharp, his hands are clenched,
As if some pang his heartstrings wrenched;
Set are his teeth, his fading eye.
Is sternly fixed-on vacancy."
SCOTT.
WHEN death is instantaneous, all the accompanying
phenomena are, of course, unobservable. Either they
do not occur, or they are crowded into a moment, and
cannot fix a separate notice.
When the disease has oppressed and stupefied the
brain, all those phenomena are wanting, which indicate
the gradual decay of sensation. Then the breath becomes troubled and irregular, more painful, feebler,
shorter.  The pulse is trembling, and at length almost
imperceptible. First the left ventricle, then the right,
loses its motion. The hands and feet grow chilled. There
is sometimes a labouring, groaning struggle, as if in a
dream,- while all is fainter and fainter at every successive moment.  Perhaps a convulsive stretch precedes
the instant in which, after successive ebbs, the breath
expires.
But the phenomena of death, even such as are purely
physical, are best seen where consciousness is still left,
where the mind still acts on the body, as well as the
body on the mind, and where every step is so slow that
it may be, measured by the observer.  The first signs
(147)




148              THE LAST ENEMY.
are like those of approaching sleep after deep weariness,
but far stronger. At the same time, a cold sweat is
often perceptible on the face and limbs;- and the substance of the flesh is sunken and'bloodless.  There is,
perhaps, an uneasy motion; the hands seem striving to
pick small objects; the grasp is firm.; the teeth fixed;
the lower lip trembles; the body is stretched out; the
extremities are cold.  The senses, one by one, are enfeebled, perhaps extinguished. First, the sight fails:
spots and flakes appear before the eye, and the finger
strives sometimes to remove these from the covering of
the bed; the countenances of friends are but imperfectly distinguished; the candle, held closely, shines as
if through a thick mist; darkness comes on.  Hearing
endures longest; and often the voice of affection and
the melody of a hymn are sweet to the last.  Sometimes the ear fails not till long after the power of utter_
ance has ceased; so that a-pressure of the hand answers
the affectionate question to which the tongue strives in
vain to reply.
It is said, that the hair has suddenly become gray in
the last struggle.  This struggle, however, is generally
past before the actual arrival of death.  Very often
there is no such struggle; but life, lingering faintly at
its citadel, wanes till it imperceptibly goes out.  At
other times, the very departure of the spirit is in the
midst of extreme agony.'  But, perhaps, more commonly, a season of considerable suffering attends the
gradual disruption of the ties between the body and the
spirit, but closes when the issue is decided, and leaves
an interval- of comparative rest for a few moments before the end. It is -while the vital system still resists,
that suffering is prolonged.  When all has yielded,
there is comparatively little appearance of deep distress;




THE LAST ENEMY.               149
but rather languor, faintness, the absence of sensation, and a mere tremulous lingering of the breath of
life.
While consciousness remains, it often seems to the
dying, that the outer and the lower parts are becoming
lifeless before the inner and the upper. The fluids,
driven to the surface, instead of becoming, blood, and
running inward, appear as cold sweat upon the skin.
Warmth departs with motion and sensation.  From
some observations, however, it is said' to appear, that
life lingers- in the gangliar nerves after it has forsaken
the brain and the senses.  But the draughts poured
into the throat are no longer conveyed into the stomach,
and the digestive organs, far from dissolving the food
and medicines, are themselves dissolved  by these.
There are even- instances in which the decay of the
substance of the limbs has preceded the act of death.
Many persons, in their utmost weakness, have fallen
asleep, and died'without waking.  The watching attendant has been unable to notice the moment of dissolution. John Newton says that he watched his dying
wife some hours, with a candle in his hand, and when
he was sure she had breathed her last, which could not
at once be determined, she went away so easily, knelt
down, and thanked the Lord for her -dismission.  So it
was with the poet Werner. Many have fainted gently
and gradually, and without the slightest token of suffering. But, very frequently, respiration, after the pulse
has ceased to be felt, continues for a little while, becomes feebler and feebler, seems at an end, returns
again, and'perhaps again; and, when consciousness is
past, still suggests the thought of distress. It is thus that
the! tenderest friends, standing by; become more than
willing that the last breath should be over. When it is
13*




150             THE LAST ENEMY.
apparently over, they linger for a few moments, and are
often surprised and pained by a convulsive movement
of the features, as the.-muscles are for the last time involuntarily contracted; then-to repose- for ever..
The frequent remark is undoubtedly true, that the
bodily suffering of the last -hour, much as it appals, is
not really to be compared with what has been endured
again and again by many. a sick man in the previous
illness. Bacon observes, that "4 the most vital parts are
not the quickest of sense." It is the ordinance of the
Creator, that pain should attend the disorganization of
the corporeal system.  The more perfect the strength
of the system, the more keenly alive must it be to this
pain; and thus, the -most painful deaths are probably
those-where, notwithstanding some mighty local disease,
some of the vital organs have remained in vigorous operation. But the-pain is by no means in the act of dying. A
French soldier in Egypt, sinking under heat and thirst,
said to Larrey in his last moments, " I. feel myself in a
state of inexpressible happiness.'.:  t is but accidental,
that death and strong pain are sometimes associated;
for, in most diseases, the chief disorganization has been.
previously accomplished; the sensibilities have been
diminished, and a general languidness has come over
the tired sufferer. Apart from those pains which may
occur long before, death may be and often is absolutely
without anguish.  He who has ever fainted away, has
probably felt all which is commonly felt in the mere act
of sinking into the arms of death. Had he died when
he fainted, it would have been no more. Those who
have been recovered after drowning, have described the
sensation, immediately before they became insensible,
as -far from  being painful; and yet,.had they never
been restored, no other bodily suffering would have fol



THE LAST -ENEMY.              151
lowed. Whatever throws us for the time into a state of
complete unconsciousness, is equivalent to the mere
process of death, apart from all previous decay. It is
probably the same with that of the insensibility produced by chloroform; the same with that of severe
epilepsy; the same with that of faintness; and essentially the same with that of sinking into profound
slumber.




XXXI.
"Why pause the mourners. who forbids their weeping
Who the dark pomp of sorrow has delayed?' Set down the bier! he is not dead, but sleeping!
Young man, arise!' He spake, and was obeyed."
HEBER.
THE heart may have ceased to beat; the respiration
may have entirely ceased; the frame may be stiff and
cold; no sign of life may remain; and hours and days
may pass; and still the body may not be dead. Men
have recovered from such a state, and issued from the
shroud, the coffin, and even the tomb.  The instances
are very few; and the tales by which fancy magnifies
the-terrors of the grave have very little support from
actual evidenc6, or from probability. In: some European cities, a room, adjacent to some cemetery, has been
expressly provided for security, whenever any doubt of
the reality of the decease remains; and a cord attached
to a bell has been so placed that the least motion of
the muscles would give the alarm; but these measures
have resulted in no revival.  Those who were believed
to be dead have, however, in every age, been known to
awake; and these are amongst the most remarkable
facts within human knowledge.  A French author has
collected fifty-two cases of persons buried alive by mistake; four of premature dissection; three of recovery
after seeming death; and seventy-two of death too soon
reported; but the distinction between the third and
(152)




THE LAST ENEMY.:               153
fourth of these classes is not evident, or else the third
might certainly be enlarged.
Persons who, had been drowned have recovered, after
remaining even for hours in the water. A man apparently dead from a grievous wound revived, though
twenty-four hours were past.  Recovery after suffocation has been particularly frequent. One Anne Green,
who was hanged in 1650, at Oxford, on being cut down,
was accidentally observed to be warm,; and lived many
years after.  The appearance of death by apoplexy
has sometimes proved deceptive, when almost every sign
had long been manifest.  Very seldom, if ever, has the
state of seeming but unreal dissolution continued beyond the third day; still, it is said, that the seventh,
and even the ninth, has witnessed restoration. During
such periods, the substance of the body remains uninjured by the outward elements. The process of recovery; too, goes on; and they who have reposed upon
the bier have arisen and walked.
To some wh-o have thus revived, all which passed in
the interval has seemed but as a deep sleep, or a state
of fainting. Others, without the slightest power of motion, have yet retained some consciousness, and have
even heard around them the preparations for burial.
But often, the soul has been in a kind -of entrancement.
It preserves, after recovery, faint impressions of a
sphere of existence distinct from those of its ordinary
waking and of its ordinary dreams.
Several examples of seeming death are mentioned by
Pliny; one; of a person who revived on the funeral
pyre.  Varro relates, amongst others, that of his own
aunt. In modern times, they have been observed by men
of the highest attainments in medical science, and narrated by very eminent writers.  The case of Tennent is




154              THE LAST ENEMY.
very familiar.  It is also told, on the best. authority,
that an English gentleman had the power, and exercised
it in~ the presence of the celebrated John Hunter, to
throw himself into the state of apparent death, with
almost every sign of an actual cessation of circulation,
respiration, and the other processes of life.  But
after various trials, one was fatal; for, he awoke no
more.
All such unusual phenomena may yet prove little
more, as to the nature of death, than the common
-occurrences of fainting and temporary insensibility.
If these continued, as under unfavourable circumstances
they might continue, the result would soon be death.
A warrior, fainting on the field of battle from  loss
of blood, would revive under the care of friends; but
would perish, should he remain beneath a heap of
slaughtered men and horses. Life, for a little season,
hovers where it can be recalled: it has not forsaken its
former sphere, but it is on the wing. Should death
actually occur, the moment could not be fixed, except
it were at the moment when the faintness came on; and
this was obviously not the true moment.  Minutes or
hours may elapse before the anchor is quite cut loose.
The utmost extension of this state is in the cases of apparent death, which sometimes end in revival, but perhaps more often in actual dissolution. There may be
no greater mystery in this than in sleep, in common
faintness, in catalepsy, in the magnetic slumber: all are
mysterious, and all our nature is, like every work of
God, a mystery to created intellects.  The practical
danger of premature burial is but the very slightest,
and is easily made impossible. For there are signs
enough of dissolution, which cannot be mistaken, and
should be awaited.




THE LAST ENEMY.              155
It is said by Irenpeus, that through fasting and
prayer the dead were raised, even in his time; but in
the same age, Autolycus, a heathen, challenged Theophilus of Antioch to point to a single instance.  Certain it is, that such power was exercised by the apostles.
From actual death came back the children for whom
Elijah and Elisha prayed; the man who touched the
bones of Elisha; the daughter of Jairus; the son of -the
widow of Nain; Dorcas, and Eutychus, and Lazarus.
As, however, the interval-was not longer than that which
is stated to'have been known between the moment of
seeming death and the revival, we. may well conclude
that the spirit still remained in that intermediate condition from which it -might yet -return, without ever
being consciously mingled with the departed in their
own appropriate world.  From that world, it would
seem that none has- come back to dwell in the body,
except One, and perhaps a few who attended Him into
His glory, as first-fruits of the general harvest.




XXXII.
(fforvpinon of ite  Baq  uiftcr MeuPat
c" I will not have the church-yard ground
With bones all black and ugly grown,
To press my shivering body round,
Or on my wasted limbs be thrown.
With ribs and skulls I will not sleep,
In clammy beds of cold blue clay,
Through which the ringed earth-worms creep,
And on the shrouded bosom prey."
CRABBE.
FROM real death the body hastens to corruption. The
blood, which had been withdrawn- from the extremities,
now flows from veins which may have. been opened, but
which till now refused it a passage.  It is not circulation, but dissolution, of the blood; but it sometimes
gives a strange colour to the cheek.  Gases engendered
by the commencement of corruption soon swell the abdomen; the surface-of the body becomes slightly darkened from  its perfect paleness; and the outermost integument of the skin is dissolved.
It is now the time for interment; and the remainder
of the process of decay is commonly to be hidden within the bosom of the earth. For seven or eight centuries,
the interment of Christians was usually on the day of
their death; as, indeed, Christianity most flourished
then in the warmer climates. If, through the calamities of war, or through accidental desertion, the body
(156)




THE LAST ENEMY.                157
was exposed, a natural provision, kindly though shocking,
" Allured from far
The wolf and raven, and to impious food
Tempted the houseless dog."
In temperate climates, the stage at which nature- forbids a longer view of the dead, is reached' about the
third day; but it is hastened by great heat, by dampness, by pestilential diseases, by poisons, and by lightning and tempests. Cold, on the other hand, a stream
of air, salts,' metallic oxides, and various other substances, retard decay.  Through causes like these,
human bodies have been found in a strange state of
preservation, under glaciers, in mines, in vaults peculiarly exposed to a.dry air, and even in the sandy deserts.
Travellers in Europe visit many places where these
natural mummies havekbeen preserved for centuries.
One of the first productions of the grave is phosphorus, which has been seen in tombs, and on the walls of
dissecting-rooms.  Indeed, inflammable air has issued
from cemeteries; and not only the dead body, but even
the living, when the living has been corrupted by habits
of excessive drinking, is known to have taken fire spontaneously. Such gases are of a very poisonous nature;
and dissection has communicated a dangerous infection
to the operator, when the- dead matter has found its
way into the blood through some slight'wound.
After this stage of corruption, follows that' in which
alkalies and'similar substances are formed, which consume like those that, for such a purpose, have been
sometimes deposited in- populous burial-places, or with
the bodies of beasts. At a still later period, oily and
fat substances are generated, and all unpleasant effluvia
disappear. The bones remain still later, and, latest of
14




158             THE LAST ENEMIY.all parts, the teeth and hair; and at length these also
are dissolved, and nothing distinguishes the dust of men
from the surrounding soil, in which the worm has its
habitation.
All this, in some soils, is accomplished with an amazing rapidity. In Yucatan, it is the custom-to collect,
after some months, the bones of the dead, and place
them with those of their neighbours who have gone before, all in one heap, exposed to public view; and as
they are buried without coffins, the decay is so speedy
that only a few months need intervene.  At the great
burial-place in Naples, where the vaults are three hundred and sixty-five, and one is opened every day of the
year, quick-lime is thrown in; and at the expiration of
the year, scarcely the least relic of the human frame is
apparent. But, in other circumstances, not only has
the skull of Whitefield, seventy years from his death,
been handled by a careless traveller; not only has that
of Milton, at the end of a century,. been dragged to the
light of day.; but the lineaments of kings who had
been buried for centuries have been seen once more.
The almost gigantic body of William the Conqueror,
after it had been:entombed four hundred and fifty
years, was found almost entire. When the tombs of the
French princes at St. Denys were rifled by the Revolu-tionary populace, the features of Henry the Fourth
were perfect, while the body of his son, Louis the
Thirteenth, was dry, like a mummy; for both had beern
embalmed.  Of- King Pepin, after a thousand years,
there remained then but a handful of dust.  It is very
common to disinter human bones from spots where they
have not been known to have been buried within the
memory of man; but when ancient mounds have been
opened, which had indisputably been raised over the




THE LAST ENEMY.               159
dead in distant ages, nothing has remained, or nothing
but what crumbled at a touch.
The most common and natural mode of disposing of
a body which must so soon be ieduced to earth; has
been that of depositing it -in the bosom of the earth
itself. To dig a cave, or to use one which had been
prepared by nature, was but an enlargement of the
grave; and the costliest sepulchre is but a more spacious
coffin. - Mausoleums and pyramids- could do no more.
Some savage' tribes, however, have exposed the bodies
of the dead to the sun and the air, upon scaffolds or on
the shore.  Thus, the Parsees at- Bombay even leave
them  to the vultures.  The practice of burning the
corpse prevailed, to some extent, amongst the classic
nations of antiquity, and has found place in other-regions, as amongst the-Aztecs and the Brahmins. It is
well known that the body of Shelley was burned by
Lord Byron. The ashes were collected by the ancients
into urns, which were deposited in sepulchres; and thus
the earth enclosed them at last.  Human bodies, too,
have been devoured by wild beasts; and many have been
swallowed up by the deep; but it is probable, that very
seldom can the substance have been so dissipated that
the bones, at least, have not found a place in the earth,
or upon its surface.
There, for the mortal eye and terrestrial history, closes
the scene.  Of the body, once so strong, so beautiful, sb
expressive, no trace is left, except it be such as superior
intelligences alone can'follow.  But the skill of Egypt
did succeed in preserving the very skin and integuments, shrivelled, blackened, but identical in feature.
It is but a mere chemical resistance to the course of
nature; and, since the very Pyramids are searched at
the end of ages, it has only postponed the issue; that




160              TIHE LAST ENEMY.
mummies might at last be scattered, in museums, or
burned for fuel. " Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt
thou return," was the original decree; and on all the
strong and the lovely forms of every generation, it
has passed into its fulfilment, except on One, and two
besides.




XXXIII.
"E'en at the parting hour, the soul will wake,
Nor like a senseless brute its unknown journey take."
PERCIVAL.
WHILE the body yields to the sentence of decay and
dissolution, the mind is not falling with it, but- only
loosens its own hold, and prepares for another destiny.
It is only when disease impedes the functions of the
brain, that we observe even an appearance of mental
disturbance or inability.  That appearance indicates no
decay of the mind itself; for the same or similar appearances may be produced by sleep, by intoxication, by inhalation of gases, and by other causes, from the operation of which the mind arises as fresh? as before.
Through such causes, it only forbears, for a time, the
use of its organs, whether of sense or of conscious recollective thought, and retires into a state in which its
connection with  the  outward world is interrupted.
There are not wanting, in those aged persons who take
no note of passing occurrences, and do not recognise
their nearest friends,' some signs of an inward communion with a world -of older recollections.  W'hen the
chord is touched, the life of the soul reveals itself; that
chord is the distant past; and we perceive that the inner man only lacks the power of fastening its own
operations to the chain of external events.  But commonly, not even this power is lacking, as the life of the
14*               (161)




162             THE LAST ENEMY.
body ebbs away. That kind of languor which is but to
be compared with common drowsiness is indeed often
witnessed; and often some lightness of head, or partial
deliriousness.  This -is not decay, and very often, up
to the last sigh, up to the very instant and act of departure, all perception, consciousness, recollection, and
mental action is as clear, as strong, as vivid, as in the
happiest moments of bodily vigour. Indeed, in many
dying persons, the mind is unquestionably'quickened
by the partial- release from many encumbrances of the
flesh, and by the intensity of its own feelings. -The
senses themselves disclose more than their natural
keenness; or else, there is an appearance as if of some
new sense, or some state resembling clairvoyance, so
that things otherwise imperceptible are known to be
near.  A dying person has perceived the arrival of a
friend in. the house, before it could be ascertained by
any of the' bystanders.  Another has seemed, even
when sight and hearing had failed, to be conscious of
the presence or approach of an intimate associate. Delirium, and even long insanity, has yielded, as if before
the light of a higher sphere.  Unusual powers of utterance have- appeared; a flow of thought and expression,
such as characterizes other states, in which the mind is
freest from the influences of the body. But, aside from
any such extraordinary phenomena, it is certain that
many die in the complete possession of every mental
power at the very) instant of the separation.  The
physician Haller, conversing calmly to the last, felt his
own' pulse: cc The artery, my friend,"' said he, "c ceases
~o beat;" and he expired.
So far as the consciousness- of the dying can furnish
proof, it is clear that they have no sensations which
would forewarn them  of any death of their inward




THE LAST, ENEMY.              163
faculties.  They.speak and think as if they were to
pass on in one continuous being, and not at once to fall
into nothingness.  Even when the mind is most overclouded, it is but as when we sink every night in slumber.  Whatever be the expectations of the dying man,
he -feels as yet no break of his existence.  The -very
atheist who takes what, like Hobbes, he calls ", the leap
in the dark," would not call it such, had he not a secret
recoil from a decision which that leap is to make, and
of which he is to be conscious.  When Hume, in his
last hours, was jesting with his friends in allusion to
the Pagan fable of Charon and his boat, the consciousness of continuous life was seen in the very choice of
his jest.  If Priestley expressed, almost as he died, his
expectation of a sleep till the resurrection, such a sleep
would be no extinction; but he looked to its close, as if
to waking in the morning.
The mental sensations of the dying, apart from all
spiritual diversities, must be very variously modified by
the circumstances of their condition and character, until that point is reached at which all communication
with the living is left behind.  Many die without knowing that their end is so near, till they are actually insensible.  Many actually die in sleep. -Many fix all
their thoughts on the world which they are leaving, on
their affairs, their friends, their last requests; on their
present sufferings, or the effect which their conduct may
work at such a period.  It is entirely possible thus to
withdraw from the consciousness of the change which is
actually passing, until the moment when the threshold
of life is crossed, and the soul issues forth.  [But when
it rather retires into - itself, or turns its gaze from the
things of this earth to the events which are each instant opening upon its knowledge, we can see, even




164              THE LAST ENEMY.
upon this side of the threshold, an experience new and
peculiar, and overwhelmingly interesting.  Persons
who were approaching their -last hour have desired,
after taking leave of their friends, to be left to themselves, and not to be interrupted; as if they felt that
an untried scene- was claiming all their souls. The
hands have been clasped, as in rapt devotion; the eyes
have been fixed as in intense contemplation; a smile of
inexpressible peace, or a shade of deep sorrow, or yet
deeper anguish, has lingered till the end; or even has
left its trace upon the features of the dead. There is,
indeed, much room for interpretations from the fancy
or the affections of the spectators at such a season. But
one who has watched many deathbeds will hardly be
deceived; and the experience of the deathbed itself is
not wanting.
Schiller, a little before his death, with a kind of reviving look, said, ",Many things are becoming to me
plainer and clearer."  There seems to be, in the frequent declaration of the dying, that they now see the
world and eternity as they had not seen them in life,
something more than a merely religious significance.
They probably feel that the intellect, when it is not oppressed by its remaining connection with the body, is
indeed expanded through the looseness of that connection.  The same fact may in part explain the ancient and common notion that the dying had prophetic
knowledge.
Some conclusions may be derived from the experience
of those who have been seemingly dead, and have recovered.  For, notwithstanding that they recovered,
they had been in the space between this living world
and the world of real death.  Those who have been
drowned have declared, that in the moment of sinking




THE LAST ENEMY.               165
the events of a lifetime came before their recollection,
as if in one vast map of a superhuman memory. Then,
with a gentle passage, rather pleasurable than painful,
their breath went out, and they glided into unconsciousness.  Men who have been hanged, and resuscitated,
spoke-of the first convulsive struggle, the flashing lights
that seemed to swim around the brain, and the subsidence into repose, as all less painful than the revival.' There has been a remarkable consent, amongst
those who have seemingly died, as to the last images
which hovered before the soul as it fell asleep. They
have heard a rush of great waters, over which their
way seemed to lie.  "The world to come," says Schubert, "seems still to speak to the'spirit of man in that
same great language of- figures, of which all visible
nature is the work and expression."  This assent has
a.ppeared amongst persons of different nations, differenteducation, and even different religions, as in the instance
of the Mexican princess, Papanzin, related-by Clavigero,
and beautifully versified by Sands. Others have seemed
to themselves only to fall asleep and to awake in some
wondrous scene, where they have remained till their
resuscitation. Such was the remarkable experience of
Tennent.
Doctor Nelson, the author of the excellent treatise
on the Cause and Cure of Infidelity, was long a medical practitioner; and he speaks of a striking distinction
which he had observed between those who seemed to be
dying, and yet recovered, and those who actually died;
a distinction in their experience, even when all things
besides had equally appeared to foretoken the end.  He
compares it with the descent into a deep valley, before
ascending a hill which commands a vast prospect.
Those who approached death as near as could be with



166              THE'LAST ENEMY.
out dying, had descended into the valley only; those
who died had, even before they passed the summit
of the hill, some prospect beyond.  "c It seems," says
Newton,:," as if the wveakness of the bodily frame gave
occasion to the awakening of some faculty, till then
dormant in the soul, by which invisibles are not only
believed but seen, and unutterables are heard and understood." However such' evidence from such men be:
regarded in its highest bearings, it rests upon an accurate observation of mental phenomena in the sick and
dying. A wonderful resemblance has been noticed in
the dreadful objects which fill the fancy of'those who
die under delirium tremens, as well as of many whose departure is made terrible by great anguish of conscience.
They see black figures, serpents, horrid forms, every
wild, spectral.appearan-ce.  A similar uniformity is observed in the softer and more pleasing pictures which
float before the imagination of many, who wander in
tranquil pastures, approach bright cities, obtain glimpses
of celestial messengers, or catch the sound of unearthly
music. The mind reverts with a peculiar readiness to
the associations of childhood; and the recollection of
early friends has Athe vividness of sight. " Touching
was the scene,". says a sketch of the death of the poet
Hillhouse, ", as the warm affections of that noble heart
wandered forth in remembrance to the opening scenes
of life, and the friends of childhood who had already
gone."  Shakspeare makes the dying Falstaff ",babble-.of green fields;" and, at the same time, mingles horrid
images with the remorse of the aged debauchee.  However strangely the grotesque and the terrible are, there
united, it is but the copy of nature. A person, who was
himself a freethinker, assured a clerical friend of mine,
that in the southern part of the United States, he had




THE LAST ENEMY.               167
repeatedly been present with men of loose habits'in their
last moments; that they again and again said that they
saw the Evil one; and, what was very remarkable, that
they all described him alike, as a strange, black figure.
The same observation has been made by Doctor Nelson.
It is but a single instance of that general uniformity of
psychological phenomena which is witnessed in the time
of departure.
Confining our view to these phenomena, we may thus
describe the process which is passing within. Except
when the brain is directly oppressed, the mind evinces
no decay, but rather acts with greater clearness and
intensity, and emits some flashes of a higher intelligence. The recollections of a whole life, the consciousness of spiritual existence, and all which is mightiest
and deepest in our nature, become brighter, even in opposition to extreme bodily languor. In the immediate
vicinity of death, the mind enters on an unaccustomed
order" of sensations, a region untrodden before, from
which few, very few, travellers have returned, and from
which those few have brought back but vague remembrances; sometimes accompanied with a kind of homesickn'ess for the higher sphere of which they had then
some transient prospect.  Here, amidst images, dim
images, of solemnity or peace, of glory or of terror,
the pilgrim pursues his course alone, and is lost to our
eye.




XXXIV.
tfig8>r   genriet  iX t eat>
On all, the unutterable stillness lies,
Of that dread hour when man must meet his God,
And spirits stand around."
WILLIAMS.
A VERY deep conviction of something in death which
extends beyond death, has always disposed the human
mind to associate with it an interest on the side of
higher and invisible agencies. It has been believed,
also, to call out in the soul itself more hidden and
mysterious connections with the unseen universe.  The
mind, in some states, can even weaken and dissolve the
Rlinks that bind it to the body; and the exhibition of
such' a power might well prepare us for disclosures still
more wonderful.
Death from a broken heart is not a fiction.  It has
too often occurred to leave us at liberty to sport with
so frail a vessel as the life of man.  The excitemenft of
strong passion has many a time resulted in the sudden
and fatal rupture of some one of the channels of circulation.  Men have thus fallen dead under mighty irritation, or from sudden fright, or even, it is said, in excess
of joy.  A violent passion hurried on the death of
Henry the Second of England; and the Emperor
Valentinian fell senseless in a fit of anger, and never
arose.  Some have sunk in the moment of uttering
blasphemy, or perjury; and perhaps the providential
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THE LAST ENEMY.               169
(loom was executed through the prompt reaction of remorse and terror.  Still more often, the mind receives
a shock, through which the bodily system is not at once
broken up, but is made peculiartly accessible to. some
mortal' disease. Margaret, the:ife of King Malcolm
Canmore, was sick when she hWard of his fall, and died
of grief almost'immediately.  The defeat at Solway evidently threw James the Fifth into an extreme depression, which issued in a slow fever and in death. But,
without'the distinct intervention of disease,' life has
closed under the operation of extreme sorrow.  On an
inquest in Englasd, in 1846, it appeared that a woman,
whose husband had suddenly died, declared at once, in
the violence of her distress, that she would not outlive
him; and actually expired within four hours.  It may
have been by a similar influence of the spirit on the
body, when'the tie to life was weak, that aged persons
have so often expired on their birthdays, or, like three
of- our chief rulers, on some interesting anniversary.
If the mind have power to produce or hasten death,
much more may it be held capable of receiving intimations of its approach, apart entirely from bodily symptoms.  The idea of occasional presentiments of this
kind has everywhere been found,, and implies no improbability.  It is true, that the number of unfounded
and unfulfilled presentiments would surpass all calcula-;
tion'; but some of those which have been indeed fulfilled,
are so striking and peculiar as- to be quite decisive.
That such a man as Lord Byron should say, weeping,
", Something tells me I'shall never return from Greece,"
might perhaps be explained by the power of an excited,
saddened, and highly-poetic imagination.  But Napier,
by no'means a superstitious writer, mentioning two
instances of'such a presentiment in officers who fell at''15




I70'THE LAST ENEMY.
the action of the Nivelle, speaks of it as -"that strange
anticipation of coming death, so often -felt by military
men."  When Bonaparte was before Toulon, the wife
of an officer begged that he might be excused from
some service. Bonaparte was inexorable. The officer,
a brave man, had a presentiment of his fall, and, when
the attack began, he trembled, and turned pale. ",Take
care,' said Napoleon, c there is a bomb-shell coming."
He stooped, and was severed in two; and his commander
told the story with a laugh in' Paris.  Headley mentions
a young midshipman, assassinated at Mahon, who went
on shore under the strongest presentiment that he
should- be attacked, though the origin of the affair was
subsequent and purely accidental.  Sick persons have
predicted, at a considerable distance, the very day of
their decease. Such was the prediction of the aged
Countess Purgstall, when she entreated her guest, Captain Hall, who relates the fact, to remain a certain
number of days longer at her castle: he saw no reason
to believe her end to be at hand; and yet-she died just
within the time which she had designated. It was confidently stated that a divine of Boston, who fell by
apoplexy, had on the same day foretold his death.
The second Lord Lyttleton dreamed that he should
die at -a certain hour, and at that hour he died; and
these presentiments assume often the form of dreams.
Borrow relates that, in the vessel in which he entered
the Tagus, a seaman at his side said,,c I have just had
a strange dream, that I fell from the cross-trees into
the sea;" and, the moment after, being ordered aloft,
he actually fell, and was drowned. A Jesuit missionary
in South America relates the baptism of an Indian, who
just before had dreamed that his deceased mother and
sister had visited him and directed him to be baptized,




THE LAST ENEMY.                 171
as he was about to come to them.; and who, without
apparent disease, died the' same evening.  A  young
Esquima-ux, who was- brought to Scotland; and died at
Edinburgh, said, just- before, that his' sister had just
appeared to himn, and called him away.- In 1777, a
pious woman died in Connecticut, at the age of ninetynine, and on her birthday.  She had often told that,
twenty years before, a venerable and comely. person,
whom she used to call her guardian angel, appeared to
her in'a, dream, ard informed her' that she should live
to be ninety-nine, aand then die, The multitude of such
narratives, some of which almost every one has heard
from  private sources, can hardly be-explained'without
supposing some foundation in fact and in nature. Certainly, too, the Holy Scriptures teach that mode of viewing the time of departure, which. regards it as the subjectof special determinations.  "4 The very hairs of our head
are all numbered;" and of the Saviour it is repeatedlysaid, that ",His time was not yet come;" a language
which must be thus justified in its application' to all
whose life and death He partook.
Whether anyhave been warned of their approaching
end, by direct interposition of spirits from the invisible
world, we have, perhaps, no sufficient evidence, except
in the instance of King Saul. But it seems- established
that either the departing spirit itself, or some other unseen agency, or some secret sympathy of nature, has
often, at the very time of departure, or immediately
after, given intimation of the change to a distant survivor.  To a belief of such a warning in dreams, Homer
seems to allude:
"Thy distant wife,,Egiale the fair,
Starting from sleep with a distracted air,
Shall rouse thy slaves, and her lost lord deplore,
The brave, the great, the glorious, now no more!"




172             THE LAST ENEMY.
Robert of Normandy, son of William the Conqueror, is
said to have one morning exclaimed, weeping, to his attendants at Cardiff, where he was imprisoned, ",My son
is dead;" saying, that in his dream he had -seen him
slain with a lance; and the fact was, that he had just
been mortally wounded in Flanders, by a lance which
slightly pierced his finger. Philip de Comines says,
that. the Archbishop of Vienne said to Louis, the
Eleventh, immediately after mass, ", Sir, your mortal
enemy is dead," just at the time when Cha'rles of Burgundy had been slain by the Swiss in battle. Ben
Jonson told Drummond of Hawthornden that he saw,
in a vision, his child, then in London, with-a bloody cross
on his forehead, as if cut with a sword; and presently
came tidings from his wife of the death of the boy by
the- plague. Walton tells-a similar story of an apparition of the wife of- Donne to her husband, with a dead
child in her arms, near the very hour when she gave
birth to a stillborn infant.  Lord Bacon says, that
when his father- died, he was in France, an4, two' or
three days before, dreamed that he saw the countryhouse of his father covered with black mortar. The
Earl of Roscommon, when a boy in France, suddenly
exclaimed, ", My father is dead;" and the fact was soon
brought by letters. The eloquent Buckminster of Boston died suddenly. On the next morning, his father, in
New Hampshire, himself dying,- exclaimed, "My son
Joseph is dead!" and when those who stood around
assured him that it was a dream, he said solemnly, " It
is no dream, he is dead;" and presently expired. A
sea-captain related to Lord Byron, that he had himself
awoke in the night, feeling a wet form stretched across
him, which he discovered to be that of his brother in
his naval uniform; and that, months after, he learned




THE LAST ENEMY.              173
that his brother was drowned that night in the Indian
seas. Six officers in Canada saw, it is said, their friend,
Captain Blomberg, enter the room in their midst, in
the same hour in which he was slain,. at the distance of
three hundred miles. A gentleman of New York, who
dreamed of the death. of a child whom he left in health,
hastened home, to find it dead when he entered his door.
Another gentleman dreamed of the death of his absent
son at the- South; and awoke, confident of the fact;
which, though unexpected, proved to have occurred at
that time. These instances are told from the lips of
very near friends of the parties; and it has been stated
by the immediate acquaintances of a deceased and very
highly revered. clergyman, that, though he forbore to
speak much of the,subject, he yet, when questioned,
declared that it was'true that he saw his distant
daughter in the room with him, at the moment of her
decease. The wife of Adams, who was murdered by
Colt at New York, dreamed before the-murder was discovered, -that the body of her husband was found in a
box, as it had been crowded in by the murderer. Facts
like these, which are probably very numerous, since so,
small a proportion ever become public, are to be judged,
like all other facts, according to their evidence.' The
universal tendency to such a belief proves that it is not
felt to be intrinsically improbable. Numerous as the
narratives may be, they cannot substantiate the frequent occurrence of what, if substantiated at all, must
still be deemed an extraordinary manifestation of the
connection between death and a higher order of laws,
beings, and events. But its occasional occurrence we
may, with Isaac Taylor, regard as settled.
We see but one side of a great transition: the other
side.is towards a world which must be spiritual;, which
15*




174             THE LAST ENEMY.
must be pervaded by agencies at present- inconceivable.
That, on the borders of both lands, that at the very line
of transition, appearances should occur which seem to
belong rather to the other side than this, it is not credulity to imagine; nor is it a superstition of which any
wise man need be ashamed, to watch with reverence
every indication of that high Providence which conducts a human being from the last hour of this world
into the first hour of the world to come.




XXXV.
SUternoure         Paith   t t'plan+
"The grave is silent, and the far-off sky,
And the deep midnight; silent all, and lone!
Oh, if thy buried love make no reply,
What voice has earth? hear, pity, speak, mine owi,
Answer me! answer me!"
TEMANS.
IN vain the inquiring heart knocks at the gate of
that realm into which the dead have entered.  Its most
earnest gaze is fixed in vain; its most eager cry is
unanswered.  But it remains ready to welcome any
glimpse, to grasp any evidence which may afford sensible assurance of the nature or reality of a life to come.
Such glimpses and such evidences have been offered
and asserted in all ages; are any of them  worthy of
reliance? Can any thing be known, from human testimony or from direct -disclosure, of the actual state of
the dead?. Is any one of a thousand narratives of the
apparition of departed spirits authenticated at the bar
of impartial judgment?
One, at least, if the spirit of Samuel, and not a delusive phantom, appeared after the incantations of the
sorceress at Endor.  Had it been satisfactorily known
through any other channel than_ Divine revelation, that
Saul saw Samuel on the eve of his own fall, and heard
the'words, ", To-morrow shalt thou and thy sons be with
me," it would still have been a fact in the history of
mankind, and would have:proved, as truly as now, the
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176             THE -LAST ENEMIY.
possibility-of such apparitions.  That there was a real
appearance of Samuel, is the plainest interpretation of
the language, was the belief of the ancient Jews, and
has been supposed by the best divines.' He came, not
through' any power of the sorceress, it should seem, but
to her amazement. Once, therefore, a departed spirit
has revisited the earth, and has been seen and heard;
and, it is worthy of remark, that he took the form and
aspect in which he might best be recognised; that of
an old man, covered with a. mantle; and seemed, to
come- up out of the earth in which his body was slumbering.
There is another example, yet more unquestionable,
though more closely blended with the miraculous facts
of the redemption.  On the mountain of the Transfiguration, Moses and Elijah, many centuries after their
removal to the world of spirits, were seen by Peter,
James, and John.; spoke in their presence; and were
known by them as -Moses and ElijaL  They were not
called back into existence, but only brought within the
sphere of visibility. Similar appearances are-not in
their nature impossible; but they must be interruptions
of the common course of events; and the question,
whether they have occurred at all, is one of fact and
evidence.
Amongst the numerous accounts of such apparitions,
apart from the sacred records, not one has been sustained' by such evidence as to take its place in history
as an acknowledged fact.>' Many of them fade away
before the lamp of investigation, and cannot be traced
to any responsible witness. In others, the operation
of an excited fancy, or a diseased state of the nerves,
is an ample explanation; especially where the apparition has been connected with some spot memorable as a




THE LAST ENEMY.               177
scene of death.. The dim and shadowy character of the
supposed appearances almost precludes the possibility of
proof, beyond the mind of the spectator himself, and' of
those who are already disposed to receive-his statement.
It has not been -alleged, that clear and full revelations
have at any time- been made by the visitants.  Men
hlave undoubtedly seen, or seemed to themselves to see,
the forms of deceased persons, such as they were in
life;' but'they have passed by in silence; and there was
too much room  for delusions of the fancy or of the
senses. Johnson, with every disposition to believe, regarded the question as' still, after so many thousand
years, undetermined; and another century of inquiry
has-furnished no addition of testimony.
But, on the other side, as Johnson remarked, was the
prevailing notion of all ages.  Every history was full
of these stories; all the great poets have employed
them, from Homer to Shakspeare.  The Scriptures
suppose such a persuasion.  "It is his angel," said the
frightened disciples, when Peter, whom- they deemed
slain, appeared at the gate; and, when they saw the
Saviour walking upon the sea, ", they supposed it had
been a spirit."  An universal belief like this-is not
sufficiently explained by an universal longing for communion with the departed.  Its foundation is rather in
the actual discourse which our spirits hold with the
dead, and which they seem to hold with us, when their
images are before us in our solitary contemplations, our
reyeries and our dreams.
Thoughts of a deceased friend become sometimes,
and in some mental constitutions, so vivid for a moment,
that the difference between recollection and present
reality' is all but imperceptible.  The departed spirit
seems -even present to the inward eye; his influence is




178             THE LAST ENEMY.
actually and most powerfully felt; may he not be indeed
near, though invisible?  This is the-question which prepares the mind for a belief in outward though dim and
momentary apparitions.  Of all this, the most remarkable instance on record may possibly be that of Emanuel
Swedenborg, whose grotesque —reveries appear to have'been so habitually intense that- he no longer. distinguished between these and the firmest spiritual realities.
But Wesley, also, who- knew Swedenborg and believed
him insane, has spoken of his own clear conviction, that
the strong impression on his own mind of the images
of deceased friends, at particular moments, -was produced by their actual, -invisible presence.  Oberlin
supposed that for many years he. enjoyed -intimate
communications with- the dead.  It is certain, that, in
our dreams, the appearance of a deceased person is
sometimes marked by a peculiar vividness, which fixes
itself' on —the recollection, and revives the profoundest
feelings. Many have had, like me, a stream of consolation from the beaming, beatified countenance of a friend
thus restored in the visions of the night.  Johnson
hoped for hithself some communication with his deceased wife; and Boswell affirmed that he had himself,
under a like sorrow, ", had certain experience of benignant communication by dreams."  The same thing is
perhaps still more striking in the waking' thoughts of
some, under great excitement of the nervous systems
but quite without derangement of the understanding. A
lady whom grief for the loss of a beloved sister had
brought to a highly hysterical state, whichl continued
for several months, was at once and for ever relieved by
seeing,; as it seemed to her, the clear appearance of her
sister, who bade her be comforted, and assured her of
her own happiness.  Another lady, who was afflicted




THE LAST ENEMY.                 179
with a kind of fit that deprived her of sensibility to
things around, constantly saw in this state- her-deceased sister and child, but on her revival recollected
nothing.
From  such remembrances and impressions, to the
thought of visible apparitions, the transition is- not
difficult.  One may often be mistaken for the other;
and there is in human nature a strong desire-to believe.
Perhaps most of the more credible narratives may thus
be explained; but the great question itself is not quite
solved,:when' the belief in apparitions visible to the outward sight is rejected.
That the appearance, visible as well as invisible, of
the dead, is possible, the instances related in the Bible
are decisive.  That they have ever appeared to the
outward eye, except in those instances, can scarcely be
proved from history, to thesatisfaction of the skeptical,
or even of the indifferent. That, however, the strongest
sense- of their influence, as if they were present, has
often been impressed upon the mind, in those states in
which visible objects have least control, is confirmed
by ten thousand testimonies.  That at such times there
is a real communion between the living and the dead,
and a real presence of the dead with the living, is a
natural conjecture, which cannot be wholly disproved.




XXXVI.
canpnitiit  o      f tf e    Out  afftenr  Zet
" If in that frame no deathless spirit dwell,
If that faint murmur be the last farewell,
If fate unite the faithful but to part,
Why is their memory sacred to the heart?
CAMPBELL.
-UNLESS the spirits of the dead can sometimes, visibly
or invisibly, make us conscious of their existence and
nearness, we have from  experience no acquaintance
with the realm to which they are gone. Al hundred
ages have inquired in vain. All which, without the aid
of revelation, can be won, are only some inferences
from  the capacities of-the human soul, and sonie, perhaps, from the traditions or imaginations of different
families of nations.
The soul acts, in this life, through its bodily organization, but proves itself essentially capable of,acting
without such an organization.  Its frail, inert, and
fleshly body is' not only its -instrument, but its incumbrance.'In those states in which it is least. restrained
by the connection, it seems to intimate the far greater
expansion of its powers and -freedom of its movements,
which await it when the connection shall be quite dissolved.
Nothing but the weakness of the brain seems to prevent an intensity of attention, a power of surveying
several topics at the same moment, a rapidity of mental
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THE LAST- ENEMY.              181
transition, and a tenacity and comprehensiveness of
memory, which would carry us on to a far higher state
of intellectual advancement.  Even a disordered brain
permits thke disclosure of some particular faculty with
an energy almost superhuman.  The flow of expression,
the flash of thought, the glimpses of a knowledge beyond the reach of the senses, which are sometimes witnessed when- the whole-corporeal chain seems almost
broken, all speak to us of strength to be developed
hereafter.
In sleep, the material world exists only for the mind,
which reposes through its own playful activity.. Then
we scale the steep precipice, and cross the stormy-flood,
and snatch ourselves from the spot of peril, with but a
wish and an effort.  Why can- we not when we are
awake?  The body will not obey the spirit; it moves
but according to its' own heavy- nature.  Hereafter,
this body will be no hinderance; and the power of
motion may be unrestrained by the laws of matter.
Departed spirits may be gear or far, around us or
among us, or in the remotest regions of the universe,
if they can move with the rapidity of the mind.
The memory is the bond of personal identity and individuality. That portion of our life of which we have
no remembrance was that in which the child scarcely
existed apart from the care and will of the parent.  If
we are individually immortal, we must carry with- us
the recollection of the present state; and there are
ample tokens that all which ever fixed the attention is
capable of being recalled, and held under one broad
survey.
The affections, too, must be immortal, unless' the
character be changed, or the object lose its attractiveness.  Otherwise. what has once been loved must be
16




182              THE  LAST ENEMY.
more or less beloved always. It is only the weakness
of our present powers that brings one object into competition with another, and for the sake of the later
excludes the earlier, and the many for the sake-of the
few. The mind is like a hospitable house of too small
dimensions; it must receive its guests, not together,
but in succession. But, could it comprehend all within
the same embrace, it would reject none whom it hadever welcomed — unless indeed it, had been deceived, for
it cannot love a delusion which it has discovered to be a
delusion.  While, then, on this side of the grave, our
love for the departed only gathers strength, devotion,
and sanctity from the separation; theirs, in -a state
where every power, emancipated from the flesh, has
gained expansion, cannot have been extinguished.
Of the mode of existence in a purely spiritual world,
our conceptions must be vague and inadequate. Disembodied- spirits, however, must still possess qualities
that have an -analogy with form and feature, voice and
hearing.  We cannot think -of them otherwise; till the
moment of death they have never existed otherwise;
and it is the individual soul which gives to the form and
features, to the voice and hearing, their individual peculiarity and identity.  Here, it gathers to itself the
grosser. matter- of the body, and moves and acts by
slow and heavy contact with the material world. Hereafter, it may employ a more- ethereal medium; and its
action may be far more rapid, delicate, and powerful.
The whole intellectual man appears, in our present
state, to be waiting- for a development.  There is always a presumption that a development, thus universally and naturally expected, will be accomplished. It
may be a development of moral qualities, as well as of
mental capacities.  Perhaps, the. character, here re



THE LAST ENEMY.              183
strained, disguised, or suppressed, may there be all that
it tends to be, in good or evil.
The intercourse of incorporeal beings must be free
from many of our present impediments. Even now,
the word is fleeter than motion, and the glance than
the word; and a whole volume of thoughts and feelings
is told'by a single flash of the eye.  When.a still
lighter and clearer communication shall be possible, the
conveyance of knowledge, the participation in occupation, and the joy of love, may be unspeakably multiplied. For this, our souls are longing now; and we
feel that, if we could see heart to heart and mind to
mind, the good would be severed, from the evil, and
truth and charity would have their perfect triumph.
That, for which the spirit longs, it confidently hopes;
and there must doubtless be a fulfilment in the future.
Our acquaintance with the works of our Maker, is
limited by the imperfection of our present organs. The
telescope above, and the microscope below, have opened
to us worlds which, without their mechanism, would
have' been utterly unknown.  Our spirits pant to discover more; and, in the words of the Spectator, " It
pleases us to think that we who know so small a portion
of the works' of the Creator, and with slow and painful
steps creep up and down on the surface of this globe,
shall,:ere long, shoot away with the swiftness of imagination, trace out the hidden springs of nature's operations, beable to keep pace with the heavenly bodies in
the rapidity of their career, be a spectator of the long
train of events in the natural and moral worlds, visit
the several apartments of the creation, know how they
are furnished, and how inhabited, comprehend the order,
and measure the magnitude and distances of those orbs,
which to us seem disposed without any regular design,




184              THE LAST ENEMY.
and set all in the same circle; observe the dependence
of the parts of each system, and, if our minds are big
enough to grasp the theory, of the several systems upon
one another, from whence results the harmony of the
universe."  If the spirit be immortal, these desires
must doubtless be gratified; so much even nature would
expect with joy and assurance. Henry More says, of
the disembodied soul,
"She is one orb of sense, all eye, all airy ear."
There is, however, something even painful in the
thought of varieties of existence so far beyond our present capacity of imagination. But it is softened by the
remembrance that this world is as wonderful as any
which can open upon us hereafter; and that both are
the work of the same power, and under the same supreme control. We know that whatever we are called
to meet becomes familiar as we approach; and that
our souls are  perpetually growing to their natural
destiny.




XXXVII.
Jatural   (nn tOU9iln9i  nf  ua  3tife
nft r Xtat.
"The soul, uneasy and confined fromnhome,
Rests and- expatiates in a life to come."
POPE.
THAT death should -be the termination of the existence of a human soul, the very consciousness of that
soul in the act of death seemed to deny and disprove.
Very'often, up to the moment of departure, it resembled much more a bird spreading its wings for a strong:
flight, than one that folds them for sleep in its nest.
Where it was-otherwise, the causes were of the same
nature with those which, during life, from time to time
press on the bodily organs, and produce a temporary or
partial unconsciousness.
The continuance of consciousness to the last, itself a
strong token of immortality, has been sustained by
added proofs, drawn from  a multitude of analogies.
Plants, fading in autumn, and renewed in spring; insects emerging from the chrysalis, with bright pinions;
night, brightening into day, as day has darkened into
night; the life that is everywhere blooming up from
the very ruins of death: all have furnished comparisons,
and some have yielded evidence. /Besides, a train of
arguments,^even such as aided Socrates in his last discourse with his friends, have been borrowed from sources
16*               (185)




186              THE LAST ENEMY.
still less reliable; as,. from the mere necessity, that as
death grows out of life, so life should grow out of death,
or from the notion of the pre-existence -of souls. To
such analogies other analogies may be opposed; to
such arguments, arguments scarcely less effective. The
breath, or wind, or air, from  which the soul or spirit
has its name, passes, and is lost as the lightest of all
things.  In vegetables and in brutes, the species is continued; but the individual, even if renewed from season
to seas-on, quite perishes at last.  A perpetual succession of beings, rather than the revival of the same being,
may be suggested by the course of the seasons.  Little
is demonstrated by reasons brought from the nature of
the'soul, as an immaterial, uncompounded essence, incapable of being dissipated or dissolved.. The truth is,
that these and other arguments, which-Plato puts into
the'mouth of Socrates, are but the efforts of the mind
to find a, defence for believing what it previously desired, and was even constrained, to believe, by its own
consciousness.  It wishes, it longs, it expects to live onward; it cannot bring itself to feel that its course is to
come at once to an end; it is sensible that the purpose
of a being like its own would then be incomplete.  To
demonstrate this may exceed the wisdom of the profoundest philosopher; to feel it has been the privilege
of all mankind, except, the subtle and the skeptical.
The most stupid amongst the heathen Greenlanders
were struck with horror at.the idea of annihilation.
It is not difficult, perhaps, to prove, as an abstraction,
that the soul does not perish with the body.  In vain
might atheists, like Fouche', endeavour to crush the in*stinct of nature, by writing on the churchyard gates,
c4Death is an eternal sleep." But-may not the soul be
withdrawn from its personal, individual existence, into




THE LAST ENEMY.                187
that general mass of life from which it was, taken at
first?  May it not be,'like the animating principle in
vegetables and mere animals, something which may be
continued in other individuals or other species, but
which'ceases to dwell in a single being conscious of his
identity?  Socrates and Plato contended for the immortality of the soul, because they said that all knowledge was remembrance, and that the soul had existed
before its union with the body, -But, if so, there was
no chain of conscious identity between the present life
and the past, and there might be none between the
present and the future.  Such an immortality was not
that for which the human spirit longed, and accordingly
the conclusions of Socrates went. far beyond his reasonings. He expected a life of personal continuance; his
ignorance, he said, would soon be dispelled; but he
knew not this from his own argument, and he was as
much sustained by representations drawn from the poets
as by all his philosophy. He was determined to believe; he followed the dictates of his own nature; and
those dictates were expressed in the popular feeling of
the ancients,, in the aspirations and even in the fictions
of poets, and in the solemn meditations of the bereaved.
Frederick Schlegel-says, that we- can hardly give the
name of faith to "c the conception of the immortality of
the soul among the primitive nations-;' for it was "1 a
lively certainty, like the feeling of one's own being,
and. of what is- actually present."  In all the ancient
world, as in all the modern tribes, except, possibly, the
most abject of all, there was always an expectation of
a life to come, usually taking a form which connected
the future man with his very pursuits in this life. The
hunter was buried with his bow, that he might use it in




188             THE LAST ENEMY.
the -unseen land; servants were even slain, that they
might attend their master; and the Hindoo widow consumed herself on the funeral pile of her husband, in
the confidence that their union would be perpetual. In
the classic nations of antiquity, the retributions of Elysium and of Tartarus were, to the popular mind, as
much. realities as the existence of superior beings.
Lucretius treated both as. equally. popular delusions.
The belief of the people, in fact, retained the primitive
consciousness; a consciousness so universal that, even
in the Old Testament, the immortality of the soul was
rather presupposed than formally and frequently asserted.  It was never a discovery; those who denied it
were always the fewer and the later.
The poets described as poets; but their boldest fictions would have been tasteless and powerless'had they
not found in the reader this strong consciousness. Some
of their images appear to have been borrowed from the
patriarchal and Hebrew belief, through uncertain tradition.  Other passages spring up directly from the
heart. The heroes of Homer pass into a world of deep
shadows; and, though the Hades to which he makes
Ulysses descend is far less distinct and impressive than
that of Virgil, yet the dead have all the traits of the
living.  "O dearest Harmodius," exclaims an Athenian
poet, ", thou-art not dead; but in the islands, they say,
of the blessed, where, they say, are the swift-footed
Achilles, and Diomed Tydides." In a lofty and solemn
strain, Pindar reveals the deep belief which lay behind
all their mythology.
But it is in the personal expectations of the bereaved,
and of those who were approaching the grave, that the
reality of the ancient belief is most palpably evident.
Even in the skeptical verses' of Adrian, to his own soul,




THE LAST ENEMY.                189
the sense of' continuous life is expressed under all uncertainty of -the place andsthe manner.  cc I shall part
from  hence," said Socrates, " and go to enjoy thefelicity-of the blessed."  Neither ancient nor modern
eloquence can easily match that sublime expression of:
the affection and hope of Cicero. ", What," says he, ",is
more desirable than to go to them whom, though dead,
we still in life had loved, and to enjoy a perpetual life
with those, who so much laboured by precept and example that we might -honoura.bly live and -cheerfully
die'! To me it seems, assuredly, that nothing more
delightful can befall me, than, if death open an entrance
to other-regions, to come to those, and be with those
whom I have -chiefly loved, and- never can cease to love
and praise.-.Oh, how shall I exult, when I attain the
society of my kindred and my friends! What- intercourse can be more joyous, what-meetings'and embraces
more sweet!  0 blessed death, which shall-open the
entrance to a life most blessed!" "'c Thou, therefore,"
he -thus apostrophizes -his departed daughter, " now
iseparated from me, not deserting me, but sometimes
looking back, lead me, where I may yet enjoy thy conversation. and the sight of thee!"; This was not rhetoric, but the aspiration of his mind and heart; he says,
that he- would not willingly relinquish the persuasion,
even though it were untrue; and'so high,-to such a,
consciousness of immortal life, could the classic Pagans
reach, and not philosophers only, but all who could
think and feel, here on "this isthmus of-a middle
state."




xXXVIII.
atI iun     ~uri ititn n      - of Eif  uftetr lh tu1.
"Guide
My pathless voyage o'er- the unknown tide,
To, scenes of endless joy, to that fair isle,
Where bowers of bliss and soft savannahs'smile;
Where my forefathers oft the fight renew."
BOWLES.
THE traditions and opinions of mankind concerning
the state after death, have, apart from written revelation, a sufficient uniformity to attest a foundation in
the voice of nature, or in truth revealed at the beginning.:- If they have such a foundation, they cannot but
speak a language which, however perverted, has a deep
significance; for nature and'primeval revelation are
equally from God.
On the Egyptian monuments, the soul is represented
as brought, after death; into the presence of its judge,
attended  by  accusing  and approving  spirits.   The
Greek mythology carried it- across the Styx, in the
boat of Charon, to the bar of three righteous judges,
under whose award it passed to an appropriate abode,,
according to its works on earth.  We have no uninspired writings, apparently, that are older than  the
poems of Homer.  In these, a shadowy gloom  overspreads the world of the departed.   Achilles, after
seeing Patroclus, his dead friend, in a dream, exclaims:
"'Tis true,'tis certain; man, though dead, retains
Part of himself; th' immortal mind remains;
The form subsists without the body's aid,
Aerial semblance, and an empty shade!"
(190)




THE LAST ENEMY.               191
The spirits of slain warriors speed through their wounds
into air, and hasten to that. dim land, where even the
joy Of virtuous heroes seems almost gloomy.  So thick,
to heathen eyes, is the mist of futurity.
The Scandinavians said, that the brave were to revel
for ever in the halls of Valhalla, and drink mead offered
them  by maidens, from  the skulls of their enemies.
Some of the Pagan Arabs said, that of the blood near
the brain a bird was formed, which once in a century
visited the sepulchre; and some believed a resurrection.  The first natives of America, whom the Spaniards discovered, said, that the souls of good men
went to a pleasant valley, where the guava. and other
fruits grew in abundance; that the dead walked abroad
in the night, and feasted with the living.  Charlevoix
says, that the'Indians paid great regard to dreams, as
embracing intercourse with spirits. -They supposed a
Paradise in the West, a sunset land.  The Mexicans
distinguished three places; the House of the Sun; for
men who died in battle or captivity, and women who
died in childbed; the place of the'God of Water, for
the drowned, for children, and for those who died' of
dropsy, tumours,-and such diseases, or of accidental
wounds; and the place of darkness, in the centre of
the earth, or in the North. An Indian told David
Brainerd, that he had been dead four days, and would
have been buried but for the absence of some relations;
that he went to the place where the sun rises, and above
that place, high in the air, was'admitted into a vast
house, miles, he supposed, in length, and saw many
wonderful things.  The Patagonians call the dead those
who are with God, and out of the world. The Tongo
people suppose the souls of their dead chiefs to be in
a delightful island of- shadows, to the northwest,




192             THE LAST ENEMY.
" Some safer world in depths of, woods embraced,
Some happier island in the watery waste."
The Yucatanese represented the abode of the -good as a
delightful land of plenty, under the shade of a mighty
tree.  The Chickasaws, on the other hand, told Wesley
that they bQlieved the souls of red men walked up and'
down near the place where they died, or were laid; and
that they had often heard cries and noises where prisoners had before been burned.  The Indians of Cumana supposed echo to be the voice of the departed.
It was a common opinion of the Indians of America,
that the spirits of the slain haunted their tribe till they
were avenged.
But the idea of transmigration has also been found,
in Africa, amongst the Egyptians; in Asia, with the
Brahmins;' and in- America, amongst the Tlascalkns.
Sometimes, even, a higher fate has been assigned to the
chiefs and sages, while the lowlier orders of men were
supposed to pass into the forms of the lower orders of
animals. The idea, however, of transmigration, is itself but an anomaly; and can only be regarded asone
of the vagaries of the human mind, in its attempt to
penetrate some of the mysteries of existence.
The general current of the traditions of all nations
points-to a future, spiritual life; to a separation there,
according to the character and actions here; to joys
awaiting the good, joys, of which the images were bor-rowed from the- knowledge or pursuits of each people;
and to a very close connection between this life and
that life to come, in the identity of individuals, in the
recollection there, in the revival of acquaintance, and
in occasional appearances of the departed here, or
glimpses of their forms, or' echoes of their voices;
though all is represented as distant and shadowy. This




THE LAST ENEMY.               193
general belief assures us, either that it is the remnant
of a common faith, derived at first from a single revelation; or, that the instincts of our nature prompt
everywhere the same conceptions.  In either event, the
Almighty has imparted, implanted, or permitted this
universal persuasion; and, when we have separated the
original, common foundation from the -accidental and
special additions, it is hardly in our power to doubt
what all men have believed.
17




XXXIX.
34u-rttul  wro4irpt of XeatV0
"s This is the chord of mournful tenderness
In heathen song, at every parting close
Returning, while with flowers their heads they dress,
That like those fading flowers the-spirit goes
But to some unimagined, dread repose:
Still in the soul sounds the deep under-chime
Of some immeasurable, boundless time."
WILLIAMS.
So much can the mind reach, without the Christian
revelation.  The picture will be completed, wheni we
have seen how, without that knowledge, men actually
have died.  History has preserved the last sayings of
many illustrious Pagans. Travellers and missionaries
have told us the feelings-and expressions of the more
barbarous heathen.  In various narratives, and in the
frequent experience of the day, we can observe the dying thoughts of those who have rejected the faith and
hope of the Gospel.
Every sentiment that proceeds from the objects of
this life alone would of course be found apart from'the
expectation of that life which is revealed hereafter.
The high preference of heroic death to ignominious
life; the affecting farewell of friendship; the firm endurance of extreme pain; the care to fall with dignity;
the mighty rally  of all- the  resources that human
nature could gather, to meet an unknown future; the
suggestions of philosophy; the willing submission to
a common lot; the acquiescence in the will of the
(194)




THE LAST ENEMY.               195
Creator, that is enforced by reason and necessity; the
weariness of this world, that follows experience of its
toils, changes, and sufferings; the occasional flashes of
imagination, brightening the scene beyond; all these
belong to man in every state, however much they may
be developed under the instruction of the word from
heaven. MSore certain prospects,'and clearer confidence,
and positive joy could hardly proceed from the midst
of so much dimness.
It is the remark of Doctor Judson, the missionary,
that the heathen of Burmah notice with astonishment
the -welcome which the Christian converts are.enabled
to give to death. The Indian savage, however, has
often exulted at the very stake, in a kind of frantic
defiance of his enemies. The HIindoo woman has sat
down to her fate, tranquil and triumphant upon the
pile.  Regner Lodbrog, king of the pirate Danes in the
eighth century, was taken captive by the- Saxons, and
thrown into a dungeon amongst serpents, to be bitten
till he died.  A song remains which in that terrible
condition he composed; and every line breathes fiery
scorn, delight in his bloody deeds, and proud anticipation of the heaven of the Northern barbarians:
" Me to their feast the gods must call:
The brave man wails not o'er his' fall."
All which has power to kindle the imagination, can
nerve men, against the mere dread of dying; and the
dreams and falsehoods which have been built on the
foundation of the natural sense of-immortality have
power to kindle the imagination.  There has never been
amongst the - heathen any such fear of death as would
have forbidden them to braye its terrors in martial contests.  The mind, stung by the desire of revenge, or
sustained by  pride, or exalted into heroism, has dared




196              THE LAST ENIEMY.
or endured all which is most terrific, and has even
rushed into the arm's of destruction.
It was generally true,. indeed, of the heathen, that
they shrank as they approached the grave, and felt an
undefined apprehension.  Some-mighty impulse was
required, to lift them: above this apprehension; and,then the spirit was, as it were, intoxicated with its wild
dream, or overpowering passion. When men sat calmly
down to contemplate the prospect before -them, they
could attain no more than a resigned uticertainty.  Socrates spent his last hour in cheerful discourse with his
friends. on immortality, and then drank the hemlock, as
one who was presently to know the truth or falsehood
of all which he hoped; and his last words bade Crito
sacrifice a cock to Esculapius; for he complied with
the observances of his nation, knowing no purer ritual.
Cyrus the Great is represented as saying to -his sons
when he died, " I never could believe that the soul dies,
and has no life separate from the body; but if I should
be- mistaken, still, fear ye -the gods, who never die;"
and if these sentiments are to be viewed as those of the
narrator rather than the king, that narrator was Xenophon, the disciple of Socrates.  In the verses of the
dying emperor, Adrian, he addresses his soul as a fluttering stranger, about to wing its way from its accustomed pleasures to an unknown region.  Julian died
with expressions of joy; that the- purer and better part
of his nature was soon to be released from the grosser
body, and that he was reconciled to the gods and the
stars.
There is, in deaths like these, the vagueness of anticipation, which indeed, without revelation, could never
be removed., It is still more striking in modern unbelievers, from the contrast with the prevailing hopes




THE LAST ENEMY.              197,
and fears of their fellow-men in Christendom.  They
have not spoken of any beam of light, across the unfathomable future. But, both in Pagans and in infidels, the human spirit has been found able to look, not
with joy, but without agitation, into such a region of
shadows, clouds, and darkness.  This was not the result
of any know-ledge of the world after death, which had
been drawn from reasoning or from tradition. It is but
the natural consciousness of immortality. Man does
not expect perpetual extinction; and, gathering all his
courage, he goes on; borne up, it is true, by the connection which he still.feels between himself and the
world which he is leaving. One of the most memorable
of such scenes, was that of the last hour of those
G(irondist members of the National Convention who
perished together by the guillotine.  They were permitted to hold a kind of banquet in their prison; and
till the break of day they prolonged their discourse.
Most of them, though educated in the Roman communion, were Deists, and rejected the services of the confessor who was-waiting at the door, and who heard their
conversation; but a few had not become unbelievers,
and one. had been a bishop, and one a Protestant minister.  They talked of their country, of.Europe, of
their party, of their enemies; when, towards morning,
one of the youngest and lightest said, ",Where shall we
all be, at this time' to-morrow?"  Their countenances
were overspread with solemnity; they spoke in lower
tones; they spoke of the immortality of the spirit;
they reasoned, some. like heathen philosophers, two or
three like Christian believers.  At length, one said,
", Let us go to sleep; life is not worth -the hour which
we are wasting in thinking, of its-loss."  ", Let us
watch," said others;,"eternity is.,too serious and too
17*




198:             THE LAST ENEMY.
awful for even a whole life. of preparation."  The hour
drew on; and these ardent, eloquent, intelligent men
went to the scaffold, chanting their national hymn of
republican patriotism.-  One by one, -they lay down
under the blade of death, and' the song grew weaker
and weaker, till- the last, the brilliant Vergniaud, was
heard alone. It was the utmost height to which, without a light from heaven, genius and ardour could mount
above the common apprehension of death; and, yet, it
was also the excitement of men dying together, dying
in the face of the world, and dying, as they thought,
for their country, and in. the issue of a great enterprise.
Not, therefore, the actual terrors of death, but the
gloomy uncertainty of the prospect, must most strike
us in the concluding hours of ancient error or modern
unbelief. The terrors of death belong chiefly to the
state of the conscience, and may even - be heightened
by clearer knowledge and diminished by ignorance.
Against death, as a natural event, the soul has proved
itself capable of being fortified, by the incitements of
the world on which it is looking back, by dreams of
fancy or fanaticism, and by-the courage of.philosophy.
t" Not only the brave and the wretched," says Seneca,
", but even the fastidious can wish to die." Lord Bacon
makes the remark, that " there is no passion in the mind
of man, so weak, but it mates. and masters the fear of
death."  " Revenge triumphs over death: love slights
it: honour aspires to it: grief flies to it: fearpreoccupates it." But all these have still -only enabled. it with
difficulty to bear up above the waves;.,! and the common
mind has only yielded to insensibility, or acquiesced
in an- irresistible destiny, wafting it on, it sees not
-whither.




XL.
lonuhyg   ufher  tpe'       rat of lta-t
"Oh, beat away the busy, meddling fiend
That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul!"
SHAKSPEARE.
" IT is as natural," says the profound:Bacon,- " to
die as to be born; and, to a little infant, perhaps the
one is as painful as the -other."  The dread. of death is
chiefly from the conscience, which anticipates the great
penalties -of guilt beyond.  Unquestionably, this dread
has been silenced for the time, even- in the guiltiest of
men; borne down by the excitement of many, passionate
impulses; and even kept down -by the force of a strong
will,- by soothing doctrines, and especially by such
occupation of all the thoughts as might prevent earnest
contemplation of the future. But, it is equally certain,
that such a dread has been found in all ages; that it is
not wholly unknown to the experience of any; that it
has increased in power as men have been compelled to
pause and think, before they dared to die; and that
it has even become most intense where revelation had
aroused the conscience, and had partially unveiled
eternity.
A punishment, an everlasting punishment, beyond
the grave, was feared, even by the heathen, when the
thought was banished by no exciting or elevating influence.  They painted the unhappy murderer, as possessed by the avenging Furies, and driven towards a
(199)




200               THE LAST ENEMY.
terrible abode.  Their Tartarus, though its minutei
horrors were the texture woven by poetry, was yet.
itself a state Ithat cast an actual- and an alarming
shadow over many a conscience.  Lucretius, striving
against all religion, acknowledges the prevalence of this
terror:
"Now naught of firmness, naught of rest remains,
Since death to fear unfolds eternal pains."
If less of such. dread appears amongst the more barbarous Pagans than in the classic days and lands of
Europe, it- is because remnants of primeval truth then
lingered, which have been almost obliterated where
mankind have descended towards barbarism.  The terror_ of the savage is more indistinct, more ignorant,
and more easily suppressed.  But, always and everywhere, there have been examples of an awful remorse,
and ", a fearful looking-for of judgment," sufficient to
seem, even to the heathen, like the beginnings as well
as the warnings of unspeakable wo- to come.  The revelation of ", the wrath of God against all ungodliness
and unrighteousness of men" has but given- to these
apprehensions certainty and intensity.
It is no fiction, that very bad men are often haunted
in their dreams by the spectral images of their crimes
and their victims, It is no fiction, that their- deathbeds
are often the scene of horrors which none can see without impressions-of unearthly dismay.  The solemn awe
with which even the good have beheld the grave from
afar, and the trembling alarm  with which it is ap-,
proached by the thoughtless, are sometimes exchanged,
in the hardened ruffian, for wild agony or infernal
despair.  Demons sometimes seem gathering around.
Sometimes, the spirit of a demon is seen in the ghastly,
countenance. Dreadful cries of wretchedness, or hor



THE LAST ENEMY.                 201
rid blasphemies, or broken supplications mingled with
curses, or the steady, cold utterance of a hopeless
prospect, as if the heavens were brass and the earth
iron, or the fierce rejection of every call to prayer,
fearfully
-"Tell what lesson may be read
Beside a sinner's restless bed."
This is not the mere anguish of delirium.  It is not
to be placed Iwith the fears of the young and light, who
are overwhelmed by the sudden. prospect of death and
judgment.  Even such, however, have sometimes seen
the- divine law written' against them  in such burning
characters,, that, like Belshazzar, they have shrunk and
shaken, till perhaps they were persuaded to seek their
only peace, late. but not too late.
Always, where the offered mercy is rejected, men
remain: in bondage under the fear of death, even
though unconscious at present of their chains; for,
death remains, an unsubdued enemy; and the consciousness of this may awake with tremendous reality
when that enemy is near.  But if a vast weight of
abominable and atrocious deeds be superadded, each
of them may throw. a blacker and still blacker feature
into the horrid gloom.  The soul may slumber through
all, till it is aroused by the fiery waves of'that ocean
ou -whicli it is launched'for ever. Then, all is hidden
from  our view; there is no joy in the departure, but
there is little wo; the vessel falls with a dull, heavy
dash into the bosom of its own dark element.  But at
other times, the moral sleepers start up with a terrific
cry; and it is amidst agonizing shrieks, borne on the
everlasting winds, that they are hurried onward to their
destiny.




PART TH-E THIRD.
XLI.
Xtat  unbmr  tbe Xpaom  iin," But the wide arms of mercy were spread to enfold thee,
And sinners may die, for the sinless hath died!"
HEBER.
DEATH was the consequence of the fall; but the fall
was balanced and over-balanced by the redemption.
None of its effects are unmitigated or quite triumphant.
The earth, though it brings'forth thorns and thistles, is
yet beautiful even in its wildness, and yields to industry
a copious harvest.  That very labbur which was-a part
of the cu'rse, becomes largely a blessing.  Though a
woman has sorrow because her hour is come, yet there
is joy that a man-child is born into the world.  The
very passage from this life, awful as it is to nature, yet
is- not, probably, what it must have- been, had no redeeming mercy intervened.  But, more than all, the life
to come has been granted; and they who hope for such
an inheritance can feel that the death which must first
be passed is death no longer.
As soon as the sentence was pronounced that man
should return to the dust from which he was created, so
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THIE LAST ENEMY.              203
soon it was promised, by the same supreme word, thatthe seed of the woman should bruise the head of the
terpent,,while his own heel should be bruised bythe
serpent before the struggle should be finished.  It was
the image of a. contest, in which a slight wound shouldbe inflicted on one side, but on the other an utter destruction.  The seed of the woman was the human
nature; and emphatically, that nature in the promised
Redeemer, the Son of man, ",made of a woman," born
of a virgin. He was to have enmity against the tempter, the -cause of this curse-of death, and to- overcome
in the contest, but not without suffering; and in Him
the human nature was to suffer and to conquer. It was,,in the language of Holy Writ, c" that, through death,
He might destroy him  that had the power of death,
that is, the devil, and deliver them who, through fear
of- death, were all their lifetime subject to bondage."
Whatever were the effects of the incarnation, they
were not dependent on the date of its accomplishment.
Time, in the counsels of heaven, is not the element
which it must be in the thoughts of the human intellect.
Forgiveness and sanctification are the results of the in-tercession of: the One High- Priest;. yet both were.
given to multitudes who had died in.their several
generations before He entered within the veil.  His
death casts its benign and soothing shadow behind as
well as before; and its influence has been felt by-those
who never heard the story, but lived, in time or place,
beyond the sphere of its propagation.  The incarnation of the Son of God was the great event to which
the whole history of the earth looked forward; and He
was incarnate, and "ctook part of flesh and blood,"
that He might die and rise again. This was the significance -of~that original promise, which, diminished of its




204              THE LAST ENEMY.
lustre' in the Pagan channels, and brightening with
accumulated accessions in the line of the Hebrew:patriarchs and prophets, was in both preserved till the
fulness of -time was come.
A contemplation of death, not merely as the universal fulfilment of the original doom, not merely as it is
seen-by nature, science, and experience alone, but as it
is in the revealed light. of God- and in the hope of  the
believer, may best begin at the death of Jesus. But
that which made His death so distinct from every other
was the union of Deity with the mortal nature, the absence of'all taint of sin, and the spontaneous submission of Himself, therefore, to a lot to which- He was
not liable, neither in His divine nature, which was not
mortal, nor in His human, which was not sinful.  In
assuming our flesh and blood, indeed, which were
already under the doom of death, He might necessarily
assume mortality, but not that death which He endured, in which His' soul was made an offering for'sin,
and He cried, "c My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?:'
Such a death was the chief of mysteries; and so it
stands, amongst all the scenes of death which have
been so many millions of times' renewed upon this
earth.  It- was worthy to -be the close- of a life which
was itself the close of all preceding history; and to
be the beginning of one with which the better life, the
life of regeneration, and of resurrection to come, was
to be given to man.  From the -earliest days of our
race, the smoke of sacrifices ascended in all lands; the
death of a living creature, solemnly celebrated, was the
highest rite of religion.  It was the worship of- the
patriarchs, from Abel downward; it was the custom of
the classic nations; it was appropriated and hallowed




THE LAST- ENEMY.              205'
anew by the Mosaic revelation.  All religion thus
pointed to death; to a death, through which heaven
and earth were to be reconciled.  When that death
had been accomplished, it was remembered and signified- in the most sacred ordinance amongst all Christian
nations. To the death of Christ, consciously or un-'consciously, all who solemnly thought of the destinies
of the immortal spirit, have been accustomed, in all
ages and lands, to direct their eyes and their hopes, in
longing, in inquiry, in wonder, or in trust. The heathen
knew not to whom they looked, when they saw in the
blood of their sacrifices a propitiation for their guilt.
The Hebrews- and the patriarchs probably knew only
that, like the brazen serpent, it was the, appointed
type of",, things in the heavens," and was to have their
reliance, not for its own mere sake, but for some great
mystery which it signified.  But to- all, death, the
death of the sacrifice, seemed the only' gate of hope,
opening from sin, fear, and sorrow, to life, purity, and
peace.
Such is it, far more than even to the most enlightened
of the prophets, such is it to the faith of the Christian.
He sees no death as what death must have been had
Christ not died.  At this point, this central point, of
the history of men he must place himself, when he
would survey the flight of ages, and the ceaseless and
universal decay of generations, and would look over
into the future abodes, and know death by the light
of two worlds.
18




XLII.
ltltiiip ution     of tt  Dv/tatb   of  1  riti.
" Amidst the visions of ascending years,
What mighty Chief, what Conqueror appears!
His garments rolled in blood, his eyes of flame,
And on his thigh the unutterable name'"
"'-Tis I, that bring deliverance: strong to save,
I plucked the prey from death, and spoiled the grave."
" Wherefore, O Warrior, are thy garments red,
Like those whose feet amidst the vintage tread."
MONTGOMERY.
IT is hard to imagine how the thought of deliverance
through the death of a victim, the thought of substitution in sacrifice, should ever have arisen in the human
soul, except from divine suggestion., But it was there,
when the righteous Abel brought of the firstlings of his
flock; and there it remained in all its strength, while
the covenant with heaven was renewed successively by
Noah, by Abraham, by Jacob, by Moses, -by David, and
by Solomon.  Once, the command, which was not to be
consummated, that a promised son should be offered up
by a righteous- father, intimated still more of an awful,
tender mystery.  Sacrifice was the chief,-the hourly
exercise of the great Mosaic ritual, "c a figure for the
time then present." The victim, too, was always to be
spotless, perfect in its kind; and that which was most
significant and solemn, for the deliverance which it commemorated, for the universality of the requisition, and
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THE LAST ENEMY.               207
for the time of the offering, was a lamb without- blemish,
the very type.of innocence.
To the prophecy of symbols was added the prophecy
of words. The primeval prediction betokened a transient injury of the conquering seed of the woman, in
the very act of redemption.  From  the patriarchal
times of Job, the eye went forward to the coming of
God in the latter day, as a Redeemer, as the next of
kin, paying the ransom. David sang of One wh-o was
bowed down to the dust of death, whose hands and feet
were.pierced, whose enemies offered him vinegar and
gall, and shook their heads in scorn of his dying anguish; of One who cried,' "My God, my God, why
hast thou forsaken me?" and who yet, from  such
humiliation, should be brought out into a triumph that'should be shared by all nations, and' that should continue for ever. Isaiah beheld One who was wounded
for the transgressions of men, and made His grave
with the wicked, yet divided the spoil with the strong,
even because He had poured out His soul unto death.
To Daniel the time was revealed when Messiah should
be cut off, but'not for Himself. Zechariah foretold
that the Shepherd should be smitten; that Israel should
look upon Him whom they had pierced; and that, by
the blood of His covenant, the Lord should send. forth
His prisoners out of the pit wherein was no water.
So wonder'fully-.were deliverance and death linked
together in prophecy.  So they remained through the
life of Jesus, tinging the most glorious prospects with a
hue of unutterable sadness.  Even when the. aged
Simeon foretold that —He should be " a light to lighten
the Gentiles, and the glory of Israel," he said to -the
virgin mother, as if anticipating the day when she
should stand at'the foot of the cross, ",a sword shall




'208             THE LAST ENEMY.
pierce through thine own soul also." The cradle of the
Saviour was sprinkled, as it were, with the blood of the
infants murdered in the coasts of Bethlehem. When
He began His ministry, it was with a distinct glance
across to the: awful end; for He said to the Jews, on
His first visit to Jerusalem after His baptism, "c Destroy
this temple, and in three days I will raise-it up;" and
said it of the temple. of His body. To Nicodemus He
said, that the Son of man must be lifted up, as was the
brazen serpent in the wilderness.  The attemptsof His
countrymen against His life began when He began to
preach, at Nazareth, His own city, and followed Him
through all His public way, to the last. He was ever
anticipating the day of their -success, with solemn; unhesitating calmness.  Three days, He said, must the
Son of man be in the heart of the earth.  It was then
no- time for the children of the bridechamber to fast;
but the days would come when the Bridegroom should
be taken from them, and then should they fast. With
a sorrowful allusion to the manner of-His death, He
said, "He that taketh not his cross and followeth after
me is not worthy of me."," The bread that I will- give,"
He also said, ",is my flesh, which I will give for the life
of the world."  At the period of His transfiguration,
He began to speak directly to His disciples, of His rejection,- death, and resurrection, with mysterious awe
and sadness, yet as one who went forward willingly and
triumphantly to the appointed sacrifice.,lMy time,"
said He to His brethren, " is not yet come.'"  ",A little
while,"..said He to the Jews, ", and then I go my way
unto Him that sent me."- ", I go my way, and ye shall
seek me, and shall die in your sins: whither I go, ye
cannot come."  Once, He admitted His disciples to a
sight of His deepest feelings:,c I have a baptism to be




THE LAST ENEMY.               209
baptized with; and how am I straitened till it be accomplished!" At other times, with solemn tenderness,
lIe said,, I am- the good shepherd: the good shepherd
giveth his life for the sheep.", No man taketh it
from  me, but I lay it down of myself.",,I must
walk to-day, and to-morrow, -and the day following:
for it cannot be that a prophet perish out of Jerusalem."
The solemnity deepened as He advanced: one great
anticipation was seen through all His discourses; before He could enter into His kingdom, He must "suffer
many things," and "c give His life a ransom for many."
", Can ye drink of the cup that I-drink of, and be bap-.
tized with the baptism that I am baptized with?" said
He at that, time to the sons-of Zebedee. It was then
that He groaned in spirit, and was troubled, and wept,
as He'went towards the grave of Lazarus.  When
Mary poured the ointment on His feet, cc She did it,"
said He, "'for my burial."  After He- had entered
Jerusalem, amidst Hosannas, yet with tears, He stood
inr the temple, and when certain Greeks desired to see
Him, and when His eye doubtless passed over the whole
great harvest of the Gentiles, said, ", The hour is come
that the Son of man should be glorified: except a corn
of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone;
but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit."  In the
depths of a struggle which no mortal intellect could
ever fathom, He cried, "c Now is my soul troubled; and
what shall I say? Father, save me from this hour? But
for this cause came I unto this hour."  c Now," He
said, again, ",is the judgment of this world: now shall
the Prince of this world be cast out; and I, if I -be
lifted up from the earth, will draw all, men unto me."
How dread and confidence, how anguish and triumph
18*




210             THE LAST ENEMY.
are blended here; not in the words of a mortal, feeble
and sinful, though sustained by faith, but of the Lord
of glory, who did no sin, and who was the Conqueror
of death and the grave!  The intensity of all these
feelings breathes throughout His last discourses in the
temple and in the circle of the disciples. As He sat
down to His Last Supper, He. said,   With desire I have
desired to eat this passover with you before I suffer."
He made the bread and wine, which were before.Him,
the perpetual symbols -of His death, and pledges of a
life which belongs to those who eat His flesh and drink
His blood. Even there; He was ", troubled in spirit;"
even while He said, ", Now is the Son of man glorified."
He felt the vastness of His sacrifice, when, likening it
to the utmost proof of human friendship, Ite said,
", Greater love hath no man than this, that q man lay
down his life for his friends."  Knowing that ", it was
expedient for them that He should go away;" knowing
that "ca little while, and they should not see Him, and
again a little while, and they should see Him-;" knowing that He went to the-Father; He yet withdrew to
an <agony which not even -the most favoured three were
permitted to witness, except from afar.
There, in the shadow- of Gethsemane, His soul was
exceeding sorrowful, even unto death.   He prayed
that, if it were possible, the hour and the, cup might
pass from Him; He prayed, kneeling and falling upon
His' face; three times He prayed in the same words,
wrestling and struggling, though strengthened by a
ministering angel, till "4 His sweat was as it were great
drops of blood falling down to the ground."  But His
prayer still closed with submission and sacrifice: " If
this cup may not pass from me, except I drink it, Thy
will be done!" Then, He came forth: He refused to




THE LAST ENEMY.              211
summon one angel from the legions who would have
hastened to His deliverance' " This is your hour," He
said to His adversaries, "sThis is your hour, and the
power of darkness;" and so passed on to the iniquitous
tribunal, to scourging, buffets, and the cross.




XLIII.
Orrcn motllaoe   of  tbe -ta    o               rltf
IOh for a pencil dipt in living light,
To paint the agonies that Jesus bore!
Oh for the long-lost harp of Jesse's might,
To hymn the Saviour's praise. from shore to shore!"
KIItKE WHITE.
AT the cross, the scene of love. triumphant over unimaginable woe, fixes the wonder of men and of angels.
Like a mighty. Intercessor, the Son of man prays for the
forgiveness of his murderers.  Like the Lord of eternity, He bestows with a word a place in P'aradise. Yet,
while the sun was wrapped in darkness,;His -soul too
was dark; and He cried out, at least for a moment, as
one forsaken of his God.  A few  moments after, the
final act of submission was finished: He committed His
Spirit into the hands of His Father, and all was peace.
But, what he endured was still'death; death in an inten-sity which baffles the imagination, -and strikes down the
heart in adoring amazement.
Mocked, buffeted, scourged, Jesus was led away,
bearing His cross towards the common place of execution.  The cross was composed of an erect beam fixed
in the earth, and a transverse beam  towards the top;
together with a small projection below.  It was probably not the whole immense weight, but only the transverse beam which was borne by the sufferer along the
road to His death.  This beam  was fastened'to the
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THE LAST ENEMY.                 213
other, at the fatal spot; and -while the body rested
upon the projection, the hands were bound to the
transverse beam, and large -nails were driven through
the hands and feet, deep into the wood.  In this constrained position of the body, the least motion under
the anguish of such horrible wounds, tore the already
lacerated members.  Nerves and tendons were-pierced;
and the most sensitive portions of the human structure exposed -to the chilling air.  A  mighty distress
was felt where the blood, unab.le" to circulate freely,
accumulated at the vital organs.  In all this torture, the
victim often survived till the-third day, and had been
known to linger till the seventh. If the speedier removal
of the body were required, the legs might be broken,
or some mortal blow  or thrust inflicted.  But Jesus
was already dead, when, towards sunset, the soldiers
came to do this office; and though a spear pierced His
side at the very seat of life, it was needless. ~ He lived
but six hours after His crucifixion; and His bodily anguish was told only by the words, "I thirst," uttered just
before He expired.  The sufferings of His corporeal
frame were doubtless the most intense, but they were
less lasting than those of the two malefactors, who were
crucified with  Him, and of- multitudes beside.  He
would not diminish them  by recourse to the somewhat
stupifying draught of wine and myrrh, Which was placed
in compassion at His lips.  The prophetic language of
the twenty.second Psalm, so closely fulfilled, would
indicate the extremity of pain- when the body and soul
were violently sundered.
In that. separation, the soul, too suffers, and suffers
chiefly.'He, the only One amongst all -millions who
was without sin, was put to death as " a reproach of




214             THE LAST ENEMY.
men," as the most daring of blasphemers. His apostles
had forsaken Him: He was betrayed by one, and another had just denied. Him, with impreqations. But
His mother, and the disciple whom He loved, and. several devoted women, still stood by His cross: He was
not alone. In such an hour, when the tenderer feelings
predominate, our Lord, who "was miade'in all things
like as we are," uttered no denunciation of sinners, but
prayed — for His murderers, even in words that softened
their guilt to the utmost, "-They know not what they
do;" granted, and more than granted, the petition of
the dying malefactor; and commended- His mother to
His friend, as a mother henceforth, and, His friend to
His mother, as henceforth a son. Pain of the body and
the soul, the pain of dying, produces, except in hardened minds, some gentleness and meekness, and accords
with a forgiving spirit. In Him,?it was human tenderness, with divine forgiveness.
As His spirit departed, the veil of the temple was
rent from the top to the pavement; the rocks were riven;
the earth quaked, and graves flew open. All nature
cried with the centurion, "This was the Son of God!"
Such stupendous tokens spoke the immensity of the act;
and spoke the sympathy of oth-er than visible powers with
the Redeemer and the redeemed. Perhaps they were
more than tokens. Perhaps the mighty event of that,hour actually echoed through the universe.
Whatever we feel in death, except the consciousness
of personal guilt, and of danger -after' death, He felt,
who was made "' like unto us in all things, sin only excepted." But more, much more was there, than ever
darkened the dying hours, or- entered into the heart,
of mortal man; and all worlds must have bowed down




THE LAST ENEMY.               215
in distant adoration, could they have- known the tremendous mystery of that conflict which was -decided, when
He cried, " It is finished."  The Son of God had died,
not like a conqueror trampling upon the terrors of the
grave; not like a hero, meeting  the shock with a
dauntless:bosom; not like a philosoph'er, enduring
with calm and resolute, firmness; not like a saint,
smiling in sweet patience, as he walks through-the
dark valley; but like a willing victim and sacrifice, whofeels all, suffers all, to the utmost depth of anguish; and
overcomes only because the cup is exhausted.
Great was this mystery of godliness, far too great to
be interpreted: by any but those who, with humble hearts
and sincere faith, learn the interpretation from the word
of God; from the Son and from the Spirit.  To all
beside, Christ crucified must be foolishness; an awful
enigma without significance.




XLIV.
3itign  o-f ctp Xtatt  of ctfit o
On thee and thine, thy warfare and thine end,
Even in His hour of agony He thought,
When, ere the final pang His soul should rend,
The ransomed spirits, one by one, were brought
To His mind's eye."
KEBLE.
THE Saviour of men said of His own death, that He
would give His flesh for the life of the world, would lay
down His life for the sheep, would give- it a ransom for
many; and, "signifying what death He should die,"
said, "Now is the judgment of this world; now shall
the prince of this world be cast out; and I, if I be lifted
up from the earth,-will draw all men unto me." He said,
too, that He laid down His life only that He might take
it again; and, when He admonished His disciples of His
approaching sufferings, He commonly added the assurance of His resurrection or His future glory.
At the institution of the sacrament of His holy Supper, He spoke as one who partly lifted the veil of an
unutterable sacrifice.  "This is my body, which is
given for you:" "this is my blood of the New Testament, which is shed for you, and for many, for the
remission of sins." In the discourse which accompanied
that last passover and first communion, He uttered many
words of similar disclosure.  "Greater love hath no
man than this, that a man lay down his life for his
friends." "For their sakes I sanctify myself, that they
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THE LAST ENEMY.                217
also might be sanctified through the truth." "How then,"
said He, as He was betrayed,- and the disciples thought
of defence, "how then shall the Scriptures be;fulfilled,
that thus it must be?"  "The' (cup which my Father
hath given me, shall I not -drink itf?:'  "The prince of
this world," He had also said," cometh, and hath nothing in me;" and His dying cry, " It is finished," told
the close of an awful conflict. But beyond, He saw and
promised its transcendent issues.,"In  my Father's
house are many mansions; I go, to prepare a place for
you."  "Ye now  have sorrow; but I Will see you
again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man
taketh;from you."  "If I go not away, the Comforter
will not come unto you; but if I depart, I will'send'
Hin unto you."  In His sacrificial prayer, death even
bore the aspect of glory: "Father, the hour is-come:
glorify thy Son, that thy Son also may glorify Thee."
After, His resurrection, He instructed Cleopas _ah  his
companions in the meaning of the prophets, an:i said,
", Ought not Christ to have suffered these things,,and -to
enter into His glory?" Still later, He said to His
assembled disciples, " Thus it is written, and, thus it
behoved Christ to suffer, and to rise from  the dead the
third day, and that repentance and remission of sins
should be preached in His name among all nations."
-The words of the Saviour, therefore, declare that His
death was the fulfilment of a divine purpose and of
divine predictions.'It was at an appointed time that
He was to be glorified.  It was His own voluntary submission and offering.' It was expressly for men, for
their life, their ransom, their forgiveness.  It was a triumph over "the prince of this world," the devil.  It
was to be followed by great glory and joy, glory to Him19




218              THE LAST ENEMY.
self and joy to His servants; by His entrance into the
mansions of heaven; by the mission of the Comforter;
and by the attraction of the world to the cross of their
Redeemer.
The wider development of His- doctrine concerning
His own death, as of all others, must be sought, where
He has taught us to search, with those to whom He
promised all truth, and whom  He enjoined to teach
whatever He had commanded. - " His,'? said the apos-,
tles, "is the blood of the everlasting  covenant;"
"the precious blood of Christ as of a -lamb without
blemish and without spot, who verily was foreordained
before the foundation of the world."  "Herein is love,
not that we loved God, but that, He loved us, and sent
His -Son to be the propitiation for our sins."  All the
types of the law told the divine purpose; and several
of the prophets predicted its fulfilment in the sufferings
and death of the Anointed.  "Him," said St. Peter,
" Him, being delivered, by the determinate counsel and
foreknowledge of God, ye have taken, and- by, wicked
hands have crucified  and  slain."  " These things,
which God before had showed by the mouth of all His
prophets, that Christ should suffer, He hath so fulfilled."
"They that dwell at Jerusalem,"-said St. Paul, "and
their rulers, because they knew Him not, nor yet the voices
of the prophets, have fulfilled them in condemning Him;
and when they had fulfilled all that was written of Him,
they took Him down from  a tree, and laid Him  in a
sepulchre."  With  allusion to the types, he says,
"Christ our passover is sacrificed for us." "Christ died
for our sins," are elsewhere his words, "according to
the Scriptures."  " Saying none other things than those




THE LAST ENEMY.               219
which the prophets and Moses did say shall come; that
Christ should suffer."
It was, they all declare whom He sent, His own act
of love. He hath "' loved us, and given Himself for us,"
and "washed us from our sins in His own blood." He
"gave Himself a ransom for all," and-loved the church,
and gave Himself for it;" "gave Himself for our sins,
that He might deliver us from this present evil world,
according to the will of God and our Father."  "He
humbled Himself, and became obedient unto death, even
the death of the cross."
The sacrificial, redeeming, propitiatory character of
His death is the very burden'of the apostolic- epistles and
of the Apocalypse. "Christ hath redeemed us from the
curse of the law, being made a curse for us.' "Christ our
passover is sacrificed for us." " Christ died for our sins."
" The man Christ Jesus gave Himself a ransom for us."'One died for all, when all were dead, and died for all,
that they which live should not live unto themselves, but
unto Him which died for them and rose again."  God
" hath made Him to be sin for us, who knew no sin;'
"hath set Him forth to be a propitiation through faith in
His blood." -He " was delivered for our offences."
" Justified by. His blood, we shall be saved from wrath
through Him." " When we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son." " In that He died,
He died unto sin once."  "God sending His own Son
in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned
sin in the flesh." The church of God is that which He
hath "purchased with His own blood."  They " who
sometimes were far off are made -nigh by the blood of
Christ."  He "hath loved us, and given Himself for
us;. an offering and a sacrifice to'God, for a sweet




220              THE LAST ENEMY.
smelling savour."  "We have redemption through His
blood, even the forgiveness of sins."'He " took out
of the way the handwriting of ordinances that was
against us, nailing it to His cross.' "   "He, by the
grace of God, should taste- death for every man."
As "a merciful and faithful High Priest, He made
reconciliation for the sins of the people."  As such, He' learned obedience by the things which He suffered;"
He "'offered up prayers and supplications, with strong
crying and tears, unto- Him that was able to save Him
from death, and was heard in that He feared;" and,
"' being made perfect, He became the author of eternal
salvation unto all them that obey Him-; called of God;
a High Priest, after the order of Melchisedec-."  Ile
once " offered up. Himself."  Of old, the high priest
entered within the -veil of the tabernacle, bearing the
blood of the animal offered in sacrifice: Christ " entered
in once by his own blood."  His death was "for the
redemption of the transgressions that were under the
first testament."," Almost all -things were by the law
purged with blood, and without shedding of blood ~Was
no remission: it was -therefore necessary that the patterns of things in the heavens should be purged with
these, but the heavenly things themselves with better
sacrifices than thesei."  "Now once in the end of the
world bath Christ appeared, to put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself.", He "'was once offered, to bear the
sins of many."  He 1"offered. one sacrifice'for sins -for
ever."  We "were redeemed with the- precious blood
of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without
spot."  He, "His own self bare our sins in His own
body 0on the tree;" " by whose stripes we are healed."
He "suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he




THE LAST ENEMY.               221
might bring us to God."  He., hath suffered for us in
the flesh."  He "'bhath loved us, and washed us from
our sins in His- own blood."  He hath redeemed His,people "c unto God by His blood, out of every kindred,
and tongue, and people, and nation."  He cc is the propitiation for their sins, and not for theirs only, but for
the sins of the whole world."   G od sent His Son to
be the propitiation for our sins."  The chosen title of
the Son of God in that book which discloses most of
heaven, in the Apocalypse of St. John, is cc the Lamb
that was slain;" and thus is His sacrifice for ever celebrated in the songs of saints on high, as here it is shown
forth at His table till He come.
It was a triumph over the Author of all evil; a
triumph, complete and everlasting.  ",Through death,
He destroyed' him that had the power of death, that is,
the'devil;" and', delivered us from the power of darkness."  ccThe Son of God was manifested, that Hemight destroy the works of the'devil."  cc y the blood
of the Lamb," the saints ", overcome the Accuser' of their
brethren."
The glorious fruits of the death of Christ are told
with a grandeur of apostolic thought and language,
which declares how much theyexceed all human imagination, even so far'as they embrace but the destinies of
man; and which even seems tb intimate an interest on
the side'of other worlds. cc Being by the right'hand
of God exalted, He' shed forth that which was seen and
heard" on the day of Pentecost. c" God, having- raised
Him' up, sent Him first unto Israel to bless them, in
turning away every one of. them from their iniquities."
",'God hath exalted Him to be a Prince and a Saviour,
to-give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins.",, If, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God
19*




222             THE LAST ENEMY.
by the death of His Son, much more, being reconciled,
we shall be saved by His life."  He "( broke down the
middle wall of partition" between Jews and Gentiles,
"having abolished in His flesh the enmity.".   Having
spoiled principalities and powers, He made a show of
them  openly, triumphing over them  in His cross.",, Through death He delivered them who, through fear
of death, were all their lifetime subject to bondage."
" By His own blood, He entered into the Holy Place,
having obtained eternal redemption for us;" and, " by
means of His death, they which are called receive the
promise of eternal inheritance." " We are sanctified
through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once
for all."  "For, by one offering, He hath perfected
for ever them that are sanctified."  We have "4 boldness
to enter into the Holiest by His blood, by a new and
living way which He hath consecrated for us through
the veil, that is to say, His flesh."  " The blood of
sprinkling speaketh better, things than that of Abel."
s Our Saviour Jesus Christ hath abolished death, and
brought life and immortality to light through the Gospel."  Having " washed us from our sins-in His own
blood, He-hath made us kings and priests unto God
and His Father."  c The Spirit of Christ, in the prophets, testified beforehand the sufferings of Christ, and
the glory that should follow.". That glory seems to
tower above all words, even the words of inspiration.
"c God hath set Him at His own right hand. in -heavenly
places, far above all principality, and power, and might,
and dominion, and every name that is named, not.only
in this world, but in that which is to come, and hath
put all things under His feet, and gave Him to be the
head over all things. to the church". -". Because He
became obedient unto death, God also hath highly




THE- LAST ENEMY.             223
exalted Him, and given Him a name which is above
every name, that at the name of Jesus every kiee
should bow, of things in heaven and things in earth,
and things under the earth; and that every tongue
should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord."  "cFor the
suffering of death, lIe was crowned with glory and'
honour."  ",When Hol had by Himself, purged our
sins, He sat down on the right hand of the majesty on
high."  " This Man, after He had offered one sacrifice
for sins, for ever sat down on the right hand of God;
from henceforth expecting till His enemies be made
His footstool."  As if the utmost issues of His-death
rkeached even beyond this world of mortals and their
eternal destinies,! the voice of inspiration declares that
", it pleased the Father, having made peace through the
blood of His cross, by Him to reconcile all things unto
Himself, whether they be things in earth, or things in
heaven."
So died the incarnate Son of God, made for our sake
the Son of man; and so, He abolished death.




XLV.
GaugBe   i-r X-ellt  t nrugb-te Zeaty
nf  ~irti1.
cc There is no death: what seems so is transition;
This life of mortal breath
Is but a suburb of, the life elysian,.
Whose portal we call death."
LONGFELLOW.
THE language of the Scriptures, when they speak of
the effect of the death -of Christ on the death of men,
is the intensest and the broadest.  He has ",abolished"
and ", destroyed" death; and " whosoever believeth in
Him shall- never die;" "c shall not taste of death." Still,
bodily death reigns over all men, and Christ endured it,
and from it no one of His servants is exempted.  It
must be that death has two senses; that in which it is,
through Christ, at an end; and that in which it remains.  The sense in which it remains is —before our
eyes, and will soon be our experience.  The sense in
which it is, through Christ, at an end, can best be comprehended by reverting to the view of death as it would
have been if Christ had not died.
It would have been the extinction of all which makes
life life. The body would have been dissolved, "c dust
to dust." The spirit would have passed, either into
nothingness, or into wretchedness without remedy. The
separation itself could not be without mighty woe, when,
hopeless and comfortless, body and soul were torn for
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THE LAST ENEMY.                225
ever asunder.  Through Christ, it was decreed -that
the body should be reanimated; "4all should be made
alive." Through Christ, the soul, whatever else might
be its. allotment, should share the same immortal existence.  For those who should die before the age of
actual sin, and for those who should embrace and hold
fast the holy hope in Christ, the world to which death
is the passage should be light and glory. The passage
itself could no longer be what it had- else been; for,
the valley on each side' stretches up, as it were, into the
rough, mountain pass between-; and when both valleys
smile, the one an earthly garden, the other a heavenly
Paradise, the pass between them  must be less gloomy
and less toilsome.
But the blessing, the one stupendous -blessing, of redemption, has made even bf this life, and for the evil
and the good alike, another scene than must have been,
had the curse been without remedy.  The sun shines
and the rains descend on all alike; all see the beauty,
and hear the music of nature; to all,. the senses are
the avenues of delight, and the exercise of the powers
is a happiness; and all have exquisite joy in the fellowship of man with man, under a multitude of relations'.
Life is gladdened, and death, as the mere. close of life,
is -alleviated, for all, through that benefit of the redempfion, which may be separated from all-its spiritual and
eternal issues. - Men do not die as they must have died,
had, the sentence been simply, and without qualification, fulfilled.  Apart entirely from all inward anguish, death is not dreadful.  When the infant and the
idiot, or those whose senses at the hour of death are
immersed in sleep, or those whose cerebral organs have
been oppressed and stupified, sink into its arms, it has
no terrors.. When the senses and the mind are all




226-             THE LAST ENEMY.
awake, it is felt that nothing but alarm of -conscience
should make the soul recoil from a change which otherwise can bring no peril..Those are deceived,.unless
they are the victims of a morbid, -nervous timidity, who
imagine that they are. afraid to die, but not afraid to be
dead.. A- mind in health could nbt so shrink from w-hat
must be a mere transition, if the state into which it
shall be borne by that transition were utterly without
power to excite anxious foreboding.  It is the conscience that is awake and agitated; and its apprehensions can only be removed through a persuasion which,
whether true or false, shall be adapted to itself, and
shall seem to disclose safety beyond the grave.  But,
while this terror is truly taken away only through the
Redeemer, and through Him only for such as have not
rejected His love, other terrors'of the mere bodily dissolution have been, like the perpetuity of corporeal
death, taken away, at least in their most awful forms,
for all human creatures.
Only He who was sinless tasted all the bitterness of
death; and sinners taste it no more, except it -proceed
from the consciousness of guilt unforgiven, and therefore of danger beyond. That consciousness could not
be His; all else which is in death He exhausted, and
the world was relieved., Hence, when the terrors of
conscience are allayed, men -go down into death and
meet the natural change with a tranquillity so common
that it cannot-be deemed difficult. The terrors of conscience are unfelt by the infant, the idiot, the insensible; they are often braved by the hardened; they are
sometimes soothed in the heedless; they are generally
suppressed in the unbelieving; and they are:banished
from- the breast of steadfast, humble, hopeful piety.
But, in whatever manner-these are- escaped, the death




THE LAST ENEMY.               227
of Jesus has removed, or wonderfully softened, for all
mankind, those other terrors which surrounded the sentence of death; just as -His mediation, through which
all, blessings flow to men, removed or softened the sorrows which were mingled by the same sentence with the
cup of the living.  When, watched by affection' and
relieved by science,'every pain soothed, and every tie
gently loosed, the dying mortal sinks as if intoa sleep,
whose beginning, perhaps, is hardly discerned, this is
the utmost bf the simply earthly relaxation of the common sentence; a relaxation which, through the death
of Jesus, has been, granted to our universal nature.




XLVI.
~friatiuan  4rrpert of Xativ
"I have a sin of fear, that, when I've spun
My last thread, I shall perish on that shore;
But swear by thyself that at my death thy Son
Shall shine as He shines now, and heretofore:
And having done that thou hast done,
I fear no more."       oE.
DONNE.
THE incorporation of the Son of God with our nature,
and His endurance of death for our sake, removed, incidentally we might almost say, an innumerable host of
evils; and this train of effects reached even to the gate
of eternity.  But' there, the soul passes on, from trial
to retribution, bearing with it;whatever has been acquired through its own inward and voluntary union
with its Saviour.   Death, as a physical or mental
change, is greatly lightened to all by the death of
Christ; death, as an event in the life of the immortal
spirit, is what it is rendered by the'character which in
this life that spirit has put on. The physical nature
reaps, from the universal union with Him who assumed
it, a physical immortality; the sensitive soul shared,
for the same cause, a corresponding relief; but the
spiritual nature must be spiritually united to Him with
its own glad consent, that the spiritual victory which
He has won may be its everlasting possession.'
This victory is signified at the deathbed of the believer.  To faith, -the triumph of the love of God in
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THiE LAST ENEMY.              229
Christ over all which makes death terrible, is a sublime
reality, a fact which in its operation becomes a part
of our own history.  There exists amongst men a general persuasion that the dying hours of a Christian must
manifest, more or less, his participation in the victory.
The persuasion is just; for, although there must be exceptions, and there may be many, the results of special
counteracting influences on the mind, yet it is the nature
of faith to shed around the soul- the true light that is
come into the world, and that light does disclose the
abolition of death for all who are in Christ Jesus.
But if, for the believer, the terrors of death are finally
overcome, they are first seen'with the clearest glance,
in -their own vastness.  It is perfectly true, therefore,
that many a profligate man has been braver than many
a Christian.  They who think of death as only a momentary shock, or only the end of this life, and think
no farther; or they who deride or deny all which has
been revealed of a retribution after this life, may advance through years of health, and perhaps to the end,
without evidence, perhaps without consciousness, of
serious alarm. But hardly can a Christian be found,
who has not at some time looked on death with solemn
anxiety.  Many have borne this load along with them
almost to the end; and a heavy and fearful mist has
ever hung around their utmost horizon. If their perception of the manner in which a sinner must be justified before God has been indistinct-, these fears have
been so much the more natural and unconquerable. An
illustrious example of this habitual gloom was the devout
and most thoughtful and strong-minded Doctor Johnson. It had been very much the frame of the excellent
Jones of Nayland. Even the pious Halyburton, whose
deathbed was a scene of unsurpassed and utter triumph,
20




230              THE LAST EN'EMY.
spoke then of himself as one "c that had been many
years under the terror of death."  Not without reference to such solemn dread, is a petition. placed in the
Litany for deliverance ",in the hour of death;' and
many a pastor has heard from  many a conscientious
Christian, when that hour arrived; the joyful acknowledgment that a mighty weight'of apprehension was
now, for the first time, entirely lifted from the soul.
To the eye of the believer, death is the transition'
from the world of duty- to the world of recompense.
His mind- has been overwhelmed with the unutterable
magnitude of that decision which, although not first
made at that point, can: thenceforth-be no more reversed.  He is very conscious of a-deceitfulness within
himself, and still more of the vast distance between his
own attainments and the purity of that fellowship to
which he aspires. What, then, if this distance should
prove impassable at last, and all his hope only a flattery from within? The prevailing sentiment of most
believers, throughout their course, is doubtless that of
hope and cheerful content; but in our present state
every feeling is mingled and shaded; and it is impossible that sin and weakness should not sometimes and to
some degree change hope into- anxiety.  A common experience has been uttered by John Newton-: ", We may
anticipate the moment of dissolution with pleasure and
desire in the morning, and be ready to shrink from the
thought of it before night."
Still, hope is commonly in proportion'to faith; and
through his life the Christian, justified by- faith, rejoices in hope, looks on to the end, and glories even in
tribulation. For him, the cloud which closes the prospect is never a mere uncertain vapour; if-it- is not
dark and awful, it is gilded and enwrapped and pierced




THE LAST ENEMY.                231
with rays of glory.  The habitual'conviction of his
mind is that which was expressed by St. Paul; just so
far as he can say, ", To me to live is Christ," just so
far he knows that to him,,:to die is gain."  He is sure
that, the victory over death- and the grave has been
won, and that, if he is but in Christ at last, nothing
in life or death, nothing present or to come, can. separate him from  the love by which that victory was -so
dearly purchased.
Thus he passes on, with dazzling hopes, sometimes
shaded by.fears, and always softened by humility.
Thousands on thousands of'Christian deathbeds admonish him  to fear transgression'only; since then no
other fear will haunt his departure.  And there can
hardly be a more signal, illustration of the vicarious
redemption than this, that the event which the sinless
Saviour anticipated with a- spirit so straitened, a soul
so troubled, and prayers so agonizing, should be expected by sinful men with such calm  and confiding
and exulting peacefulness.




XLVII.
4rnuitenvg in cd0'Itin'tiun t11'h.
" Thou know'st the -secret wishes of my heart:
Do with me as Thou wilt —Thy will is best."
SOUTHEY.
IT is no part of the common, Providential system
that believers, rather than unbelievers, should receive
any other than the general, natural warnings of the
approach of dissolution.  Such knowledge as that of
the Lord Jesus, who, though deliverance was in His
control, cc knew that His hour was come that He:Should
depart out of the world," is not given to His followers.
But, in the ages of miracles and of inspiration, St.
Paul could affirm as a certainty, while yet in prison,
that- c the time of his departure was at hand;'-' and
St. Peter could say that he ", must shortly put off thistabernacle," in the manner which his Master had shown
him by an express prophecy.
-Intimations, not wholly dissimilar, are said to have
been sometimes given in later ages.  Polycarp dreamed
that his pillow took fire and was consumed; and, as
the persecutors were already seeking hinm, he inferred,
what seemed rather improbable, that his martyrdom
would be, as it was, by' fire.  In prison, Perpetua of
Carthage saw in dreams what was interpreted by herself and- her companions as indicating their fate and
the order of their departure, as it soon befell. Gregory
the Great relates that his aunt, St. Tarsilia, the day
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THE LAST ENEMY.               233
before she was seized with her last sickness, had a
vision in which her ancestor, Felix, one of the bishops
of Rome, invited her to a glorious habitation.  It was
said that Bishop Hall punctually foretold the-very night
of his death.
Mo-re often, sayings have dropped from good men, as
they unconsciously drew near to sickness or sudden
death, which seemed as if a higher mind had gently
led their thoughts to themes that beseemed a pilgrim
almost in sight of Jerusalem.  In private recollection,
such examples -will occur to many, and they are frequently noted in the sketches of the, lives and deaths
of Christians. It may be through the operation of
some of the more subtle elements in-our corporeal system, suggesting rather to feeling thain to thought the
approach of change, and the nearness of that incorporeal world which sometimes seems to-touch us through
our nervous constitution. Or it may be through some
actual intimation from. invisible ministers of good, as a
guardian conducting a child to the home which he had
left in infancy,might prepare his mind, without informing him, as he drew towards the end of the journey.
However it be, the fact is sufficiently frequent to have
been often noted, and is too readily explained to permit the charge of superstition.  Doctor Arnold died
very suddenly; but the last words of his last lecture,
on the preceding day, were a'blessed anticipation of
waking in the likeness of Christ; and the last-entry in
his diary, before he lay down'to the sleep from which
he only awoke to die, was of a solemn review of his
whole -life, and a sober, pious contemplation of the
future.  ", And then," he wrote, "e what is to follow this
life?"  The last recorded conversations of Bishop Heber, before his sudden transition, were on the highest
20*




234             THE LAST ENEMY.
and most-enrapturing themes, the riches of the Gospel,
the duty of bearing it to the heathen. -Doctor Milnor,
a few hours before his not less sudden removal,'was
congratulated upon his healthful appearance,:but said
that he had that within which admonished him to be
always ready. President Burr, on New-Year's Day,
preached on the -text, ", Thus saith the Lord, This year
thou shalt die,' and. died in the same year; and, when
this fact was mentioned to his successor, President
Davies, he said' that it ought -not to be viewed as pre-,
monitory, but as very remarkable; and, on the NewYear's Day a few weeks before his own death, preached
on the same text, and thus,.as he said in his sickness,
undesignedly preached his own funeral sermon:
Good men have been permitted,'-consciously or unconsciously, to choose the place and, occasion of their
end. In other instances, remarkable correspondences
have appeared, which seemed to have a signification
and to speak a special appointment.  Meletius died
during the Council of Constantinople, which had been
called for the express purpose of healing the schism in
the Church of Antioch, where he presided as one of
the rival prelates.  So Buonaventura, too, died during
the Council of Lyons, at which few, were equally eminent.'Proterius, Bishop of Alexandria, was massacred
on Good Friday in the church where he. was at prayers.  St. Francis of Paula died also on -Good Friday;
Conrad Pellicanus on Easter-Day; and-Bede on Ascension-Day, just as he had finished the last verse of his
version. of St. John.  St. Benedict was carried into
the church, and there died, after receiving the eucharist.  St. Columba died there during the office of matins.
St. Oswald passed his last night there, then washed
the feet of several.poor men, and expired.  So died




THE -LAST ENE -MY.           235
there, before the altar, Fructuosus of Braga, after a
night' on that spot. Pope Celestine the Fifth, a simple hermit, whom others, for their own ends,. had
placed in the papal chair, and presently displaced, ex —
pired while he was engaged in saying his office; and one
of.the best of thePopes, Leo the Ninth, on the- day-before
-he died, delivered a discourse on the resurrection, at the
very spot which. he had chosen for his burial. Thurstan, Archbishop of York, an iron man in an iron age,
celebrated the vigils in commemoration of the dead in
Christ, chanted, himself, the dies irce, sank upon, the
pavement, and in.the presence of his monks breathed
his last.  In the-earlier times of the' Anglo-Saxon
church, Cedwalla, a devout prince, set out for Rome,
whence Christianity had come to his people. It was
his wish to receive,baptism there, and the'wish was
granted; but he lived but a week after his baptism.
Aldhelm, on a journey of duty, sickened, was removed
into a church, and there commended his soul to God,
and died. Nicholas Ferrar died in an ecstasy of devotion, at the very hour of the- night at which he had
been accustomed -for many years to rise for. midnight
worship.  The pious, Countess of Warwick, who had
often wished to die praying, died praying. Bishop
Jewel, who had wished to die preaching, was on a
preaching journey through his diocese, when he was
smitten with -a rapid disease, and returned no more..The heavenly Archbishop Leighton had expressed a
wish that he might die on a journey and at an inn, and
it was granted.
It is not rash to believe that He, without whom not
a sparrow falls to the ground, should order the fall'of
His servants with a tender care even for the fulfilment
of their wishes, where no higher end would thus be




236              THE LAST ENEMY.
counteracted.  No such special adaptation can commonly be expected to be visible.  The- same experience
which discloses a few examples that arrest our notice,
includes multitudes that show no peculiarity of circumstance and no striking significance of arrangement.
But those- few may be designed to remind men, from
time to time, of the perpetual guidance of a Providence
in whose sight the death of His saints is precious.
That we may know the direction of footsteps, it is
enough to see them  at intervals,_ even though far
between.




XLVIII.
temnut of  tti  iar of  ntti
i" For this poor form
That vests me round, I give it to destruction,
As gladly as the storm-beat traveller,
Who, having reached his destined place of shelter
Drops at the door his mantle's cumbrous weight."
BAILLIE.
IT may be stated as an almost universal experience
of the pious, that death, as it draws-nearer, loses much
of that awful solemnity which it wore at a, greater distance.  In, part, this is the effect of a natural law,
which governs our passage through all, or almost all,
the events of our earthly being.  Everywhere, near
ness and familiarity prepare the mind to encounter the
evils which it dreaded.  Some are found far less than
their appearance; for others, corresponding resources
develop  themselves at the shock.  Man, as he  approaches the change of worlds, meets only. what his
Creator has -given  him  an inward capacity to bear,
unless he dies in his sins, and so encounters that which
is more- than  mere death.  But when the sting  is
actually taken away, when death is really but
~" a path that must be trod
If man would ever pass to God,"
it is not wonderful that the fear also should go by like a
mist which- the morning sun must dissipate, because it is
only the growth of night. Through life, it is often permitted to remain; and the younger we, are, and the
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238              THE LAST ENEMY.
more remote the grave may seem, the deeper appears
its mysterious solemnity.  The further we plunge, too,
into worldliness,. the more depressing is the chill' produced- by sudden anticipations or imaginations of our
latter end.  It is necessary that it should be so,
lest all thoughts of eternity should be loot.  Even
when' the steps are turned towards heaven, the same
cloud must be suffered to retain more or less of its
darkness, lest the heart, still too frail, should forget its
-own manifold dangers. During our exposure to temptation, we need the humility, the caution, the vast seriousness of spirit which such a dread must maintain;
to number our days must persuade us to apply our
hearts to wisdom. But, when this necessity is past;
when' the prize is no longer at hazard; a strong and'
victorious faith sees nothing in death which should inspire anxiety.  A  certain human weakness remains,
like that with which ~apainful operatibn is anticipatedd;
and very often, too, distrust of itself struggles in the
heart against confidence in- God.  Still it is generally
observed, that good men feel and declare, sometimes
even, with surprise, that the apprehensions Which they
have shared with others, and which have, more or.less,
haunted them through life, are' much alleviated, or
quite dissipated, as the hour of departure draws on.
Almost all Christian pastors may have heard from
some aged believer, yet in health, the declaration of a
readiness to bid the hour of death a perfect welcome.
Such Christians have spoken of lying down, night after
night, with the thought that they might never wake,
and with entire willingness that any slumber should
be the slumber of. the grave.' The'prayer of Bishop
Ken, which they have often' repeated, has been fulfilled:-'




THE LAST ENEMY.               239
" Teach me to live that I may dread
The grave as little as my bed."
There are many examples of piety in appearance not
less elevated, at a far earlier period of life; but it may
be doubted whether this absence of all anxiety is so,
completely seen in any to whom their age and health
permit- the thought that their end may be distant.. - It
seems one appointed effect of the approach itself.
For, in the aged and the young alike, the mortal
sickness, in its later stages, often clears away every
alarm.
The excellent Sir William Forbes, the biographer of
Beattie, uttered this: "c Tell those," said he, "c that are
drawing down to the bed of death, from my experience,
that it has no terrors; that, in the hour when' it is
most wanted, there is mercy- with the Most High; and
that some change takes. place which fits the soul to
meet its God." When the loyal Earl of Derby came
to his execution, although he had said in previous times,
that he could die in fight, but knew not how it might
be on the scaffold, he. now said; that he could lay his
head on the block as cheerfully as on his pillow. "cLet
my people know,". said the pious Archdeacon Aylmer,
",that their pastor died undaunted, and not afraid of
death: I bless my God that I have no fear, no doubt,
no reluctation, but an assured- confidence in the sinovercoming merits of Jesus Christ."  So said President
Finley, ", Give my love to the people of Princeton;,tell
them that I am going to die, and that I am not afraid
of death."  "c Oh, do not fear to die," said Mrs. East,
in dying; ", you will find the word of God sure; all will
be fulfilled, and you will find it so." Doubtless the
aspect of death is softened by exquisite suffering before
its arrival: " I were  niserable," said Donne, ",,if I.




240              THE, LAST ENEMY.
might not die."  In the venerable MIr. Adam,  of Wintringham, under severe infirmities, it became great
weariness of life.  While his attendants were moving
him, he said, "c If I could be sensible what these persons
are doing when they place me in my coffin, it would be
one of the most agreeable impressions I have ever
known."  But it- is infinitely more than this when one
can say, like Halyburton,, cI, a poor, weak, timorous
man, once as much afraid of death as any; I, that have,'
been many years under the terror of death, come now,
in the mercy of God, and by the power of His grace,
composedly and with joy to look death in the face."
This change is what -has been named ccdying grace,
kept for a dying hour."  St. Ambrose said, in words
which other. saints, like Jewel, have made their own,
that he ",neither had so lived as to be ashamed to remain, nor, when he remembered the goodness of his
divine::Master, was he afraid to'die."  A pious clergyman. half an hour before he died, whispered, "c The fear
of death is quite taken away."  Another expressed a
slight anxiety at the very fact that his awe had so departed.  A venerable divine of New England, just before his end, declared that he was conscious only of an
awfully solemn and intense curiosity to know the great
secret of death and eternity.. So spake the philanthropist Howard, "' Death has no terrors for me." William
Jones, of Nayland, who had always looked forward with
trembling, said joyfully in the hour of dissolution, that,
if this were death, he had never conceived of death, before.  So said the pious Lady Glenorchy, almost as her
last words, ", If this be dying, it is the easiest-thing imaginable."
It often appears, that exactly those from whom constitutional courage or philosophic firmness could least




THE LAST EN1EMY.             241
be expected, go down into the valley of death with
most complete triumph over their past apprehensions.
In the recollections of. many, some such example of a
dying friend will occur with convincing power and tenderness. They tell us that this absence of fear is no
fruit of nature,-of habit, or of strenuous effort; but the
gift of Him who gave to death its terrors, when He
made it the doom of sin; and who takes those terrors
away, when sin is blotted out through the blood of the
Lamb.
21




XLIX.
coanersi  fln on  tf 3u      nh   f  Xtat.
"' Thou didst bear away from earth
But one of human birth;
The dying felon at thy side, to be
In Paradise with thee."
MILMAN.
THAT the approach- of death should sometimes be
attended by very mighty effects on the human character,
is not only not surprising, but quite unavoidable. That
these effects should sometimes issue in that inward transformation through which a sinner, till then impenitent
and unsanctified, might be made meet for an inheritance
with saints in light, would seem, to one who has observed the power of events over the soul, rather probable than wonderful. If the contemplation of death at
a distance so often leads men to earnest thought, to
prayer and to God, as mighty, at least, might be the
contemplation of death at hand. No Christian could
well deem a deathbed repentance impossible, even if he
should doubt its acceptance.
But its acceptance, or the possibility of its acceptance, can now  be doubted by no Christian.   One
instance is given by Holy Scripture; and it was under
circumstances which were plainly designed to teach
that, on this side of the grave'itself, no mortal shall
assign limits to the mercies of his Saviour.  The' malefactor on the cross blasphemed even after he hung in
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THE LAST ENEMY.              243
agony by the side of Jesus; but in those few dying hours
repented, sought forgiveness, was forgiven, and obtained
the assurance of immediate admission into Paradise. It
has been said, and often repeated, that one such instance
is recorded in the word of God, that none might despair,
and but one, that none might presume. Yet, in that
one, such as it was permitted to be, lies the force of a
million. Had any dying penitent tasked himself to
imagine a sufficient pledge of the possibility and theacceptance of a true repentance at that hour, he could
have imagined nothing beyond such an example as that
of the thief upon the cross.
Perhaps we -fear too much the injury from the perversion of the example.  The same injury may proceed
from the hope of any future repentance; and among
the multitudes who hope some day to repent, very few
can. distinctly intend to delay it to a deathbed. The
Christian church, however, has never hesitated to renew,
at the eleventh hour, and even after the eleventh hour,
the call of the great Master of the vineyard. Always,
the minister of Christ has gone, with the words of pardon for the penitent, even to the scaffold of the most
hardened, remembering what manner of death Christ
died, and who died with Him and was saved. As little
have any refrained from preaching the Gospel at the
bedside of the expiring sinner.
Doctor Johnson once quoted, with approbation, an
epitaph on a person who died by a fall from a horse:"Between the stirrup and the ground
I mercy sought-I mercy found."
The supposition may have been a perilous one for
thoughtless minds; but it proceeded from a thoughtful
mind, measuring, or rather forbearing to measure, a




244              THE LAST ENEMY.
solemn possibility. But, in the more common conversions of the sick-bed, although of those who recover
so many turn back to perdition, —yet not a few persevere, and prove the depth of their change by its fruits
in their subsequent lives. Though those who die can
give and receive no such assurance, yet analogy may
persuade -us that the inward resolution may have been
so much the more thorough as the peril was more imminent.,,I trust," says John Newton, "4the power
of His grace and compassion will hereafter triumphnantly appear, in many instances of persons who, on
their dying beds -and in their last moments, have been,
by His mercy, constrained to feel the importance and
reality of truths which they did not properly understand and attend to in the hour -of health and priosperity.  Such a salutary change I have frequently, or,
at least, more thah once, twice, or thrice, been an eyewitness to, accompanied with such evidence as I think
has been quite satisfactory. -And who can say such a
change may not often take place when the person who
is the subject of it is too much enfeebled to give an
account to bystanders of what is transacting in his
mind?"  Many a Christian reader recollects the narratives of the last days of Struv.ensee and of John
Cowper.
The uncertainty which must almost always hover
over such repentance, the frequency of delusive hopes
and transient changes, and the mighty weight of improbability, that any one individual will have time,- and
opportunity, and warning, and strength, and grace for
a change like these, are as striking to the reflecting
reason as is the -guilt of relying-on such an expectation
to the honest heart.  They who can pervert such a




THiE LAST ENEMY.             245
truth as the occurrence of these conversions may pervert any other; and the truth must not be disguised
for the sake of any perversions, especially when it so
magnifies the unsearchable riches of that mercy which
is'll the hope of all.
21*




inuvr itq   inl    britionn iatt,  from
4iff renrc    of    3elief
"c One army of the living God,
To his command we bow:
Part of the host have crossed the flood,
And part are crossing now."
WESLEY.
EVEN amongst those who abide in the same hope, it
is impossible that the feelings, at the approach of
death, should not be varied in degree by the diversities
of doctrine, opinion, association, and custom.  That
general removal of its.terrors, Which is the natural
and designed fruit of belief in the redemption, may
thus be aided or counteracted.  The light shines alike,
but it is variously admitted; sometimes only in part,
sometimes through a medium by which it -is broken and
confused, or discolopred and bedimmed.
Amongst pious Calvinists, the tone of peace at the
last is very often a particularly firm, though deeply
humble, sense of safety; but sometimes, too, it has been
a painful struggle against doubt, despondency, and,oppressive apprehensions. The mind of Cowper was
clouded till his dying day, and, when his features settled into the quietness of the grave, his affectionate
friends could do no more than to imagine that they
saw in them the index of ", a calm composure, mingled
with.a holy surprise."  Under any system of -religious
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THE LAST ENEMY.               247
belief, his intellect would have suffered from its malady;
but the exact form which the delusion took and even in
death maintained, was borrowed from doctrines which
seemed to distinguish between the secret and the revealed will of the' Most High.  Amongst pious Methodists, with their prevailing view of assurance, of the
witness of the Spirit, and of perfected sanctification, and
with the loose rein which they give to all natural expressions of exalted feeling, the common tone is more
often than elsewhere one of jubilant. triumph. Amongst
pious members of the Anglican and the Lutheran communions, the general sentiment of -ecclesiastical fellowship, the administration of the sacrament, and the use
of fervent forms for committing the sinking frame and
the departing spirit to a -faithful Creator and most merciful Saviour, have impressed on this peace a kind of
joyful, almost liturgical solemnity, so beautifully expressed in that hymn of Theodore Zwinger, composed
on his death-bed and translated by Merrick:.
" The festal morn, my God, is come,
That calls me to thy hallowed dome."
Amongst pious Romanists, while the confession, the
absolution, the viaticum, and the extreme unction, may
all-tend to repress alarm, the peace of Christian hope
must yet be deprived of its glow- by the dim expectation of they know not what of purgatorial endurance.
In the devout humility- of an ascetic spirit, St. Martin of Tours and the royal St. Louis caused themselves
to be laid on beds of ashes when the last moment was
nigh. In -the same or a more superstitious spirit, some,
in the Roman communion, have put on the coarse robes
of some monastic order, as if to die in that profession.
Others have insisted on being laid upon the hard pave



248             THE LAST ENEMY.
ment, or even in the attitude and in the depository of
the dead, there and thus to diet -With a more subdued
and tranquil observance of accustomed forms; the celebrated Father Paul Sarpi folded his hands upon his
bosom in the shape of a cross, and so expired; and in
the same attitude the aged Bishop Jolly, of the Scottish Episcopal Church, was found alone and dead. Like
Monica, the mother of Augustine, many have asked
the prayers of survivors for their souls when they,
should be gone; and, in later times, it has been with
indistinct and disturbed apprehensions of their need of
such intercessions.  A  certain gloom, more or less
intense, may shade the path even of the honest and
safe believer, when he has become subjected to the
influence of an unscriptural system.
The rigidness of one form of Christian thought and
custom, and the Warmth of another; the habit of meek
submissiveness, and that of eager,.affectionate obedience, are seen in their effects to the last.  These
effects may be united with peculiar traits of temperament; and such traits may incline the mind to one or
another view of questions which have been variously
regarded by Christians, or to one or another mode of
habitual devotion.  Charles, the First went with calm
dignity to the scaffold, after listening to the morning
lessons of the Church of England, which, on that day
of the calendar, related the crucifixion of our Saviour.
Oliver Cromwell, if he can be named amongst those
who have died in faith, is' said to have strengthened
himself in the time of death by recourse to his conviction that he had once been an heir of grace, and to
the opinion that an heir of grace could never fall quite
away. Some, like Bishop Bull, like Brentius, and like
the: pious Dr. Bedell, have' solemnly affirmed what they




THE LAST ENEMY.              249
had held,: or taught, or written, even though'their several doctrines may have somewhat differed. - Others
have even laid upon those whom they left behind, the
solemn- charge of dying persons, that they should
never forsake the doctrine or communion to which they
had themselves adhered in death. A lady of my acquaintance, whose piety was fervid, and was joined
with a warm imagination, uttered in her last hours the
hope that she might be permitted, if it were possible,
to hold some guardian influence over an infant child
just born into-her family circle.
Every portion of the Christian church has furnished
to the believer some means of solace and refreshment
for his last warfare. From the days of the apostles,
the elders have been summoned to pray at his bedside.
Prayers and hymns for the chamber of death,- and for
the use of the dying themselves, are found in liturgical
books and manuals of devotion, especially in those of
Germany.  The Holy Communion has been, by a custom very -general in Christendom, the crowning preparation for the passage.  So dearly has it been prized,
that one of the martyrs under Queen Mary, a layman,
made in his prison such arrangements as he could,
and, praying that, as far as might be possible, his participation in the elements before him might be to him
the enjoyment of the Lord's Supper, went thus to his
crown with an invigorated spirit.  The great Schleiermacher, in his last moments, sat up in his bed and administered to his friends and himself this sacrament of
faith. It has been sometimes a relief to pour into the
breast of a spiritual guide some special confession, and
to receive the authoritative declaration of absolution on
the supposition of true penitence; a declaration which
cannot increase the real certainty of forgiveness, but




250              THE LAST ENEMY.
only confirm  the inward conviction of those whose
heart condemns them not; and thus it is permitted by
Protestant churches.  The abuse of such aids may be
serious and frequent; but nowhere does the Christian
minister more feel his need to lean directly on the
words of Scripture and the ordinances.of Christ; and
on the collective piety and experience of the universal
church, than in the presence of death, and under the
knowledge that scarcely a few days or hours are left
for all which his labours can impart.  If he sees, as he
must, the influence of peculiar modes of thought and
belief,.or of various ecclesiastical usages and systems,
in giving a tone and hue to the hope which triumphs
at such a season, so much the more must he bless the
lot which enables him to speak simply there the words
of Holy Writ, to offer the prayers which have. been
uttered by innumerable saints, and to administer the
cup of redeeming grace at the command of the Redeemer.




it r iiq ihI    (Er atia  ntM   frnm
"c One after one shall follow thee,.As pilgrims through the gate of fear,
Which opens on eternity."
WHITTIER.
WE can conceive that the transforming grace of Giod
might, in. life and in death, remove or suppress every
influence of natural peculiarities or accidental associations; but- such is not its custom.  Sometimes, indeed, the most marked traits of the original'outline
seem  quite to disappear, and the timid become undaunted, and the harsh have the meekness of little
children.  But, except where these natural traits have
been very closely allied to such as were decidedly
moral, the man has generally retained to the last much
of that, mental individuality which has such a colouring
effect on the pure light of piety.' This individuality
gives to many a Christian death-bed a character quite
distinct from that of others as evidently Christian.
John Newton and Thomas Scott were friends, and
held the same doctrines; but the Christian life and
death of Newton were like the balmy air of June; those
of Scott like the bracing and often chilly breezes of
November.  Payson, nervous, imaginative, eloquent,
variable, passed, at the approach of death, from many
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252              THE LAST ENEMY.
a long valley of humiliation, if not from the precincts
of the fortress of despair, far up into what he termed
the ", land of Beulah," and the ", delectable mountains."
The pensive poet, Wilcox, struggled with fears at the
very close.,c I have some hope," he said; ", pray for
me that I may not be deceived; all my hope is in the
promises of God in Christ Jesus."  Bishop Dehon,
dying still young, yet, after a life of patriarchal pureness from his youth, breathed forth, as almost his last
words, ", God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob!" and
then, as his temper had always been lovely, "clay silent,
with great loveliness in his.eyes."  Simeon, whose peculiar cast-of mind had always prompted quaintness of
expression and even an unusual enjoyment of the ludicrous, throughout a life of almost unsurpassed zeal and
usefulness, carried this with him into his chamber of
death; and said in his own way, just before he expired,
", Do you see any sting- here?"  A most learned and
conscientious man, Bishop Burgess of Salisbury, but
of an unimaginative mind, said, in his last illness, ", Oh,
what a comfort there is in looking to Christ! I scarcely
like to speak of looking to the cross; that is figurative; I want something substantial."  On the other
hand, Tasso, in the monastery where his closing days
were spent in prayer, died clasping a crucifix; and
multitudes of saints have delighted to have the image
of the cross before the eye of the spirit in the act of
departing.
An influence, like that of the natural temperament
or of accidental- associations, may be also ascribed to
the character of particular diseases.  Some, like  paralysis, weakening the nerves,-weaken also the power
of self-control, and sometimes cause an appearance of
great depression.  Others, with the remedies which are




THE LAST ENEMY.               253
applied, — exalt the fancy by exciting the brain, and
thus prepare the sufferer to utter glowing thoughts in
glowing language.  Some are attended. with such prolonged and severe pain, that the wish to die becomes
eager and habitual; others bring such exceeding lan-guor, that the face of death is, even without an effort
of faith, easy and.placid, but no feeling appears ardent
or vigorous.  The disease which was fatal to Robert
Hall had subjected him for many years to the torments
of martyrdom; and, when the.last moment rather suddenly came, it seemed almost an agreeable surprise.
Whitefield, struggling with asthma, awoke in -the night,
saw himself unable to preach, as he had intended on the
next day, soon'felt himself dying, and passed his few
remaining hours in a kind of wrestling conflict with his
malady, and of wrestling prayer.for his family, college,
friends, and congregations.- In the midst of delirium,
many have rejoi'ced in the brightest glimpses of unearthly glories.! Even then the mind of Bishop Wilson
was filled with visions of angels. -The thoughts even
of those who'seemed quite insensible, have disclosed,
when for a moment of revival they could be seen, a
sacred communion and peace to which, except for such
a moment, the inactive senses denied all avenues of
observation or expression.
But what a diversity in Christian death is thus
effected by the diversity of disease! From him whose
sentence of triumph is interrupted by the very stroke,
and finished perhaps in another world, to him  who
sinks into a dream of years from which he only wakes
for an instant while his soul is passing, peace has a
thousand forms; but each is peace. There is frequently
a tumultuous rushing of wild and troubled thoughts, the
offspring of corporeal maladies; they pour along like
22




254             THE LAST ENEMY.
clouds in a windy night, breaking the light of the moon,
which yet pursues beyond them its calm, clear way.
It has even been known, yet, perhaps scarcely known,
that disease should produce in men whose lives had left
no room for doubt in a -single witness of their faith, a
gloom and even an apparent despair that enfolded their
minds till reason disappeared. Scarcely can the triumph
of the inner man of the heart, even over the worst darkness-of the intellect, be more signally exemplified than
in the consoling reflections which one of the brightest
minds of a recent age communicated to another, Mackintosh to:Hall; when the great divine feared the recurrenee of a mental malady, from which he had suffered
previous' derangement.  His friend brought to him'
Christian strength, which he, as a Christian, knew how
to receive. They thought and spoke of passing into
the -temporary loss of intellect itself, a's into a sleep,
through which the protection of Him who slumbers not
would not be wanting, and from which the spirit would
emerge with elevated and expanded pinions. Even so
perfect a victory is given to faith, over all the peculiar
fears with which some forms of disease may encompass
the season of departure. They can but be for a little
while: their beginning is preceded by a filial submission, and their end is beyond all sorrows.




LII.
i(nftift!i2  iUtn Zi t1       itia1'P1at1l.
"Oh, fear not Him who walks the stormy,wave;'Tis not a spectre, but the Lord!
Trust thou in Him who overcame the grave;
Who holds in captive ward
The powers of death. Heed not the monster grim,
Nor fear to go through death to Him."
CONDER.
-OuR Redeemer said of His own night of agony, 4"this
is your hour, and the power of'darkness."' It'has been
the persuasion, and doubtless the experience, of many
of His followers, that some special contest with the
temptations of their adversary, especially in the forms
of distrust and -despair, often awaits the dying.  Perhaps it was for this cause, that the Reformers of the
English Church, in that most solemn service which is
performed at the grave, -placed such words as these:
4 Suffer us not at our last hour for any pains of death
to fall from  thee."  It might well have been believed
that they who should be kept till the last hour in faitti
and obedience, would not-then be forsaken.  But, e.ven
if salvation itself could not then be endangered, the
comfort and peace of the Christian might be much impaired; his testimony to'the power -of grace shaken by
the onset-; and-at least a parting sting might be given
by the serpent beneath his heel.
Of no such contest do many Christian deathbeds
afford any intimation. Not seldom, all which is seen or
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256              TiE LAST ENEMY.
told is peace; peace from first to last. The appearance, however, of a peculiar struggle within is sufilciently frequent and sufficiently marked, to be justly
viewed as one of the spiritual phenomena of death.
When Bucer, on his deathbed, was warned that he
should be armed against the assaults of the devil, he
answered, " I have nothing in common with the devil;
I am only in Christ; God forbid that I should not taste
the sweetest consolation." The Viscountess Falkland,
a lady of exalted piety, had much feared these assaults,
but was quite exempt. But. the mild and placid Melancthon said at one time,_ "I have been in the power
of death; but the Lord has graciously delivered me."
George Herbert 44 fell into a sudden agony," and'presently said "c that' he had passed a conflict with his last
enemy, and had overcome, him  by the merits of -his
Master, Jesus."   Hervey spoke of a- great conflict
which he felt within; but at last said, c" The great conflict is over; now, all is done;" and said scarce- any
thing more, except that, now and then, he exclaimed,
" Precious salvation!"
The occasions of this conflict may probably be very
different. It may be a struggle with the innate love of
life; for youthful piety, especially, can still enjoy the
glory and beauty of this world beneath the sun. Even
such a struggle will not be condemned by those who
have seen the fading bloom of that most beautiful
period, when all joys are most joyful, and have nieditated much on the Saviour and His agony.  Still more
intense may be the strife of soul in-fathers and mothers,
before a young and dependent family is calmly left behind. In mothers, the victory, once won, is often so
complete as hardly to leave a trace of the conflict, and
scarcely is there any higher victory of faith; but the




THE LAST ENEMY.                257
conflict itself may often have been proportionably
severe, unless, indeed, the tender and compassionate
Comforter had made it easy. Many pious hearts, too,
shrink, at times, with an appalled timidity, from "4 the
wide, the unbounded prospect" of an eternal existence;
and an hour of heavy conflict may succeed the conviction that all is at hand. - With others, ", a horror of
great darkness," altogether indistinct, may be the inward oppression.  John Wessel was even tempted with
doubts of the truth of that religion which he had loved
and served; but, an hour after,_ said,,,I thank God
all my vain disputations are vanished; I now know
nothing but Jesus and Him crucified." But commonly,
perhaps, it is the conflict with that which inakes the
sting of death; with conscious sin, with recollections of
guilt, and of the law, which is the strength- of sin; a
conflict in which, if the soul lose its hold upon the hand
of the Redeemer, it must sink beneath the waters. 
At such a time, such a conflict may well: bear some
resemblance to the agony in Gethsemane.  The cup is
felt to be one which, were it' possible, the fainting, overwhelmed, quivering soul would wish to pass by its'lip
untasted.  It is one of the -most awful struggles of
faith, probably the most awful, but the last.'~G3'2*




LIII.
~i~teiunir nf (ChristiJi in ~ll
"'And oh, when I have safely passed
Through every conflict but the last,
Still, still unchanging, watch beside
My bed of death; for thou hast died!"
GRANT.
THE reliance of the heart upon the love and grace
of Christ becomes even simpler, firmer, and more intense in its last trial.  If we need the mediation of the
Son of God, then surely, if ever, must the need be felt;
and if He is indeed the Saviour of sinners, how can a
penitent sinner fail to cling- then with. all His soul to
the assurance of His love, when all other supports fall
all around? The Lord who loved us and gave Himself
for us; who ransomed us with his blood; who went before us, for our sake, in the path of mortal suffering;
who died, and dying overcame and abolished death;
is seen by the eye of faith as the Good Shepherd, and
guides with IIis rod and staff along the dark valley..,I know whom I have believed," was the thought
of the imprisoned apostle, when he expected his summons to martyrdom.  ",Yes, He is very precious to
me," are the accents that are but whispered by one
dying believer.," I am going to my Lord," exclaims
another as he departs.  ", This day," said Bishop Jewel,
just before he expired, ", this day let me see the Lord
Jesus."  ", Blessed Jesus," were the last words of the
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THE LAST ENEMY.               259
good Bishop Horne, whose sweet book on the Psalms
has been the, companion of so many prayers. ", Come,
Lord Jesus, come quickly," has been the cry of thousands, while each has sunk, as it were, into His everlasting arms. Other thousands have taken upon their
pale lips the dying words of Stephen,', Lord Jesus,
receive my spirit."! The last words of the learned and
pious Doctor Good were the completion of a sentence
begun by another: they spoke of Him  " who taketh
away the sins of the world."'.''Even here, however, it is not commonly that spectacle
of ardent, eager looking, as to the brazen serpent, which
may have- been earlier witnessed. Faith has become
the habit of the soul, and thus is calmer and more like
a' natural, spontaneous sentiment. It is nQt so much the
almost desperate grasp of the drowning man, who must
perish if he lose but this one hold; it is rather as when
a friend leans on a tried friend, and -commits to him
every interest, and life itself, without a question. But,
as a testimony to that Gospel which has brought him
thus far, and now more than ever lights the way, and
for the. satisfaction and -instruction of all around, as
well as to invigorate his own faith and hope by recurrence to their first principles, many a dying Christian
disclaims all trust in his own righteousness, and declares
his sole confidence in the atoning Mediator.  To Him,
indeed, all the holy ordinances which at any time sur —
round the deathbed point alike.  No prayer is offered
there, but in His name; no other would accord with the
inward pulsations of him who dies, or of those who see
him die. ~ The sacrament, which is taken as if in preparation for the last journey, is that of His body and
blood. From him who clasps a crucifix to his bosom,
with sincere though misguided devotion, to him who,




260              THE LAST ENEMY.
also misguided, refuses the aid of all visible ordinances,
but still believes Christ is "c the only name given under
heaven;" and the suggestion of any other hoped would
result in faintness of spirit and in shrinking dismay.
The heart, in death, receives and bears an irrefragable
testimony to' those two -sayings of the Lord, " No man
cometh to the Father but by me;" and ",Him that
cometh to me I will in no wise cast out."  Faith alone
overcomes; the faith which unites to Him that giveth
the victory.




LIV.
3Iuo'2   iln    Cfruiat  n t el.
" Oh, dearest friend, death cometh! he is here,
Here at my heart! Air! air! that I may speak
My hoarded love, my gratitude sincere!"
SIGOURNEY.
TIHE softening influence of suffering and of the parting hour makes the chamber of death a scene of tender
love.  If at such a season- the roughest hearts are
melted, much more must Christian charity be then more
than ever affectionate and complete. The difference in
death-beds is not generally that between love and hate,
but that between love which is merely earthly and love
which is also heavenly.  With the dying Christian, it
is the very spirit of the skies.  It tells how near he is
to the land whose air he already breathes, drawing in
health for the soul while the body sinks away.
What a tenderness spreads itself over the love of a
believer for his friends, when he is to leave them behind!  Every word of counsel is so precious, every
request so sacred, at that hour; not only because it is
the last, but because it is full of a love stronger than
death.  Oswald, a pious Saxon king, breathed out his
soul on the field of battle with the words, c Spare, Lord,
the souls of my -people!"  ", Peace be with you," said
the Reformer Musculus, and crossed his hands on his
breast and died. "-In this love and communion we
are and remain one," said Schleiermacher to his-family,
(261)




262             THE LAST ENEMY.
just as he expired, after partaking with them  the
Lord's Supper. The great Lord Burleigh, in a letter
written just before his death, expressed his desire to
be' in heaven, a servitor for his Queen and for the
church.  Whitgift, palsied and dying, could only say,
",Pro ecclesia D)ei!"-for the church of God! Who
has read without a feeling of strong and admiring sympathy, how one of the English martyrs under Queen
Mary, a married priest, clasped his wife and children,
and said that he were no man who would not be content to die for such, for their legitimacy and fair fame?
The inexpressibly affectionate looks of the dying, fix
sometimes a recollection more precious than any treasures. Tender messages to the absent, grateful glances
in return for little attentions, the fervent kiss, the
sweet, indescribable smile, the grasp of the hand in
the act of departure, who has not witnessed all these,
if he has been often at Christian deathbeds?
This dying love for friends-reveals itself peculiarly
in' the desire, the hope, and the assurance of future
reunion.  It reaches to the dead as well as the surviving, and exults with a peculiar rapture in the approaching meeting with such as stand already on the everlasting shore. A few hours before the death of Luther, he
rejoiced in this prospect.  ", We shall, I think," said
the,  "be renewed in the other life, through Christ, and
shall much more perfectly recognise our parents, wives,
and children."  Melancthon, a few days before his
death, told Camerarius that he trusted their friendship
should be cultivated and perpetuated in another world.
Cruciger, another of the school of the Reformers, spoke
in his last hours, of meeting and recognition.  Caspar
Olevianus, a divine of Heidelberg, when his son had
been summoned to see him before he should die, sent to




THE LAST ENEMY.               263
him also the message, that ", he need not hurry: they
should see one another in eternal life."  So Joseph
Scaliger spoke of "44soonmeeting and embracing, no
longer the subjects of age and infirmity."  4 What pleasure there is," said the pious Mrs. East,, "in the thought
that we shall together adore the Saviour; and that, if
permitted, I shall gladly welcome you on your admit-.tance6 into heaven."  Recollections of dear, departed
friends come often with such a vividness that, looking
on, we are almost persuaded to deem them near. The
aged Hannah More, in her last distress, stretched out
her arms, as if catching at some object, uttered the
name of her deceased sister, cried ",joy!" and sank
into a state from which she-never revived.
But the same heavenly love reaches to enemies, and
forgives and prays, as Jesus prayed, and forgave. The
first martyr, Stephen, followed in this the very footsteps' of his Lord, beseeching Him that the sin might
not be laid to the charge of the- murderers.  It has
been the prayer of many and many a Christian on the
scaffold and at the stake and in the dungeon.  The
martyr, St. Lawrence, on his bed of coals, is said to
have prayed for the conversion of Pagan Rome.  c0 O
Lord, open the King of England's' eyes," said Tyndal,
as -the flames rose around him  at Antwerp; flames
lighted through the machinations of'that king to consume, even on a foreign shore, the translator of the
New Testament.  It'has even become a custom with
those who have suffered innocently, or for political acts
for which they were not condemned by their own conscience, to declare their forgiveness of such as had
brought them  to their end.  All Christians deeply
knew, in the hour of leaving all, that for the unforgiving there could be no forgiveness, and no home in the




264               THE LAST ENEMY.
world of peace.  But no Christian, on the verge of
glory, can feel a less heavenly wish than that his worst
enemy may be, by his repentance, the occasion of joy
in heaven.
That same celestial spirit goes out, at such an hour,
in longing prayers for the triumph of the kingdom;of
God on earth and the salvation of all. -An aged Christian, when his pastor inquired for what he should specially pray at his bedside, answered,
" With love which scarce collective man can fill,"
and as if all was granted already for himself, "c pray
for the whole family of mankind." Edward the Sixth,
with his dying breath, supplicated that his kingdom
might be delivered from "c Papistry."  c" Let the whole
earth be filled with his glory," were the words with
which- the gallant Earl of Derby gave the signal that
the axe should fall.  Almost the same words broke from
the lips of a sweet, pious child just as her spirit passed.
It is the utmost ascent of the human heart, before it
has lifted its anchor for the voyage of eternity.




LV.
(ontrit   4ate  in              (tri)fitn  beatI.
"The last endOf the good man is peace. How calm his exit!
Night-dews fall not more gently to the ground,
Nor weary worn-out winds expire so soft."
BLAIR.
WHETHER emerging from  conflict, or spared it entirely, the soul of the dying believer is generally irradiated with a peculiar grace and peace.  If this be in
its nature no more than what-he has often enjoyed, its
degree is higher and more perfect. Already, he seems
in spirit to rest from  his labours.  The world  of.
temptations. has passed by.  All gentle and pure feelings have undisturbed control; and the most exalted
of his thoughts and the sweetest of his affections alone
remain.  Shut by the necessity of his weakness, as well
as by his own wishes, from all except a few friends, he
communes with, another world and prepares to go forth.
It is of the nature of Christian peace to be pro-.
roundly humble; for it flows from the hope or sense of
forgiveness, and forgiveness supposes a most abasing
conviction of unworthiness.  If this be strong in life,
it can but gather fresh strength when the soul is waiting its speedy call into the more immediate presence
of the Lord of glory.  The fifty-first Psalm, known as
the Miserere, has often been the prayer of dying saints.
Rogers said it on the way to the stake.  It was repeated by Bullinger on his departing day.  It was read
at the bedside of Arnold a few moments before he ex23              (265)




266              THE LAST ENEMY;
pired. When a minister spoke to the illustrious Grotius, in his sickness far from home, of the prayer of
the publican, he cried out,,,I am that publican; I
place all my hopes in Jesus Christ."  The innocent
and saintly Archbishop Usher, after a very long life
of godliness, uttered these as his last words, c 0 Lord,
forgive me, especially my sins of omission."
But it is- not to be supposed that the lowliest depths
of confession would be trodden at the very last. Those
whose repentance has been delayed till then, if, touched
indeed, they obtain the pardon which they passionately
implore, yet can hardly be cited as examples which may
illustrate ",how a Christian can die."  Through the
regrets and pains of penitence, the faithful Christian
has passed, before he lay down for his final rest. Humility, rather than humiliation, is the character of his
Experience, after he has withdrawn within himself and
contemplated the close. When his sickness began, or
when it first wore the aspect of approaching death, he
may have bowed his spirit in one solemn act of confession.:If he received the Holy Communion, he -earnestly sought to bring that cordial penitence for alla his
guilt, which has the -promise, as well as the seal, of
perfect pardon through the blood that' cleanseth from
all sin; but on that promise he relied, and, though he
feels himself a sinner, he feels-himself a sinner forgiven. Not to the deathbeds of the pious must we look
for anguish and deep shame, for theereturn of the prodigal or the lamentations of Peter when the cock crew:
these are already past. The prodigal is in the arms
of his father; the penitent has heard from his Saviour
the blessing, cc Peace be with you:" and the contrite
lowliness which remains, though the deepest and tenderest, is-no longer pain.




LVI.
tig    tin (II    rid tian  -Ftat
" Stronger by weakness, wiser men become
As they draw near to their eternal home:
Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view,
Who stand upon the threshold of the new."
WALLER.
THE idea that the departing spirits of good'men are
at times favoured with intimations, visions, or assurances which would on other occasions be held supernatural, is one which has often occurred to the thoughtful, and which is attended by no appearance'of improbability. They who are'on the border- of two worlds
might well look over from one, and catch some glimpses
of what lies just within the other.  Little proof would
be asked by minds not firmly fond -of incredulity.  Is
that little afforded by the last earthly hours of the saints?
The Saviour, in that parable which was designed to
afford a glance beyond death, the parable of the rich
man-and Lazarus, intimated an approach and nearness
of higher spirits at the season of departure.  The patriarchal ancestors of Israel were possessed at that
season with a divineJpower of prophecy, and spoke the
destinies of their posterity.  There is, therefore, a
foundation for  the belief that immortal faculties may
receive some development before the boundary of death
is crossed. To St. Stephen, certainly, a vision was displayed and heaven- was really opened.  To St. Peter it
shown, that he must shortly put off his mortal tabernacle.
We are easily prepared to suppose that- something not
(267)




268              THE LAST ENEMY.
dissimilar may have been granted to the faithful but
uninspired followers of such leaders. Many are the narrations which sustain a belief so natural and so authorized.
Even if some remain unconvinced, and although extraordinary instances are, not to be cited as proofs of an
ordinary rule, it will still be difficult for most Christians
not to- recognise a design in a class of facts so numerous and of such surpassing interest.
Basil of Ancyra, who was put to death in the time of
Julian the Apostate, foretold, the approachitig death of
the emperor; and George Wishart, at the stake, foretold
that of his persecutor, Cardinal Bea-toun.  The words
of Latimer may be regarded as uttered in the same
spirit, when he said, 4" We shall this day light such a
candle' in England,, as, by God's grace, shall never be
put out." -To John Knox, his friends confidently attributed a power of prophecy.
It is related of the death of St. Ambrose, that iHonoratus, Bishop of Vercelli, was at the time in the house,
in a distant room, and three timesheard a voice, " Arise
immediately, he is at the point of departure;" on which
he hastened, gave him the sacrament, and saw him expire.  Whether the voice was outward or inward, an
actual interposition or a powerful impulse, the event
has been in many an instance, substantially repeated.
Clergymen have hastened, under such an incitement, to
the bedside of the dying; and friends have -felt themselves irresistibly prompted to an interview which they
have always remembered with thankfulness.  It is impossible, when we speak -of death and its circumstances,
to discriminate -accurately between the natural and the
supernatural.  What belongs to this world is natural;
what belongs to the future world is supernatural; and
in death -they meet.




THE LAST ENEMY.              269
More interesting by far is the question whether the
dying Christian has, before he crosses the boundary-of
worlds, experience of such "powers of the world to
come " as are perceived by none but the dying. Often,
like St. Augustin, such have requested, after their farewell words, to be no- more disturbed, as if they were intent on something of indescribable- earnestness. They
have folded- their hands, and fixed their gaze, and a
calm smile, or an ecstatic joy, or a deep, deep intensity
of contemplative adoration, has settled upon their features.  So, Gellert died in silent prayer.  Such scenes
will be in the remembrance of many by whom they
have -been watched, and who felt as if they saw while
one was passing in at the porch of the celestial
temple.
Others, as they drew nearer to the end, have uttered
their astonishment and joy.-at the new consciousness
which was dawning. ", Light breaks in 1" exclaimed
the pious Blumhardt-of Basle, a little before he expired,
"4 Light breaks in! Hallelujah i"  Mrs. East, with " a
look of dazzling and indescribable lustre," said at
midnight,, "He made the stars also," sank into sleep,
and-never awoke again. Melancthon requested not to
be interrupted; when asked if he wanted- any thing,
said, c Nothing else but heaven;" and begged them
", not to disturb his delightful repose." Rivet said, c I
am come to the eve of a great and eternal day; I have
learned more divinity in ten days than in-fifty years
before."  Doctor Maclaine said,, I can now contemplate clearly the grand scene to which I am going: it
appears to my mind very magnificent and very awful;
there is no cloud in the prospect."  Doddridge said,
", Such delightful and transporting views of the heavenly world as my Father is now indulging me with, no
23*




270              THE LAST ENEMY.
words can express."  Hooker fell into a kind of rapturous reverie, meditating on angels, their number,
order and harmony.' The countenance of Sargent,the
biographer of Martyn, kindled into holy fervor; he spoke
of c "glory, glory," and of " that bright light," and,
when asked, ",what light?" answered, "'the light of
the Sun of righteousness."'With many, however,; there has been a distinct denial of sensations beyond the sphere of common joy in
the' Holy Ghost. When Doctor Bedell was asked if he
saw Jesus, he was already speechless, but answered
significantly by pointing to his heart and to heaven, as
if he had said, ", there only."  "cI have no rapturous
joys,? said Rowland Hill, ",but peace, a good hope
through grace-all through grace."  (Ecolampadius,
laying his hand upon his heart, as the rising sun broke
in at the casement, said, "c There is light enough here."
-But others have'seemed to themselves to feel and
perceive much more.  Nicholas Ferrar assured his
friends that he had seen a heavenly entertainment.
The Countess of Carbery had fears, but "c passed into
a kind of trance," and then " cried out aloud, Glory be
to God on high! now I am sure I shall be saved."
That excellent person, Lady Elizabeth Hastings, a little before she died, cried out, with sparkling eyes and
an elevated- voice, ", Lord, what is it that I see?  Oh,
the greatness of the- glory that is revealed in me! that
is before me!" The accomplished Olympia Morata, an
exile for her faith, said, as she sank'in death, smiling
with inexpressible sweetness,,,I distinctly behold a
place filled with ineffable light;" -and her last words
were,,,I am perfectly happy." Doctor Bateman, a
little before he died, said, with  the se  ns of a
Christian physician,,, I can hardly distinguish whether




THE LAST ENEMY.               271
this is languor. or drowsiness which has come over me.;
but it is a very agreeable feeling;" and died, crying,
"'What glory! the angels are waiting for me!- Lord
Jesus, receive my soul! Farewell!'.'
Gregory the Great tells that his aunt, in her agony,
called out to make room for the Lord Jesus, whom she
saw coming towards her; and so died.  In just the
-same manner, Doctor Nelson relates, how a'pious lady
of St. Louis, after a strong spasm, that was strong
enough to have been' the -last, said to her pastor in a
faint whisper,- c I was in sight of home, and I saw my
Saviour!"  Such instances, more or less striking, are
innumerable, and something of this nature.has' perhaps -fallen within the knowledge of almost every observer.  We must not be bold in speaking of what none
but the' dying- can have seen and felt; but, certainly
there, is enough to persuade us, that many of those who,
with clear minds and organs'unoppressed, approach the
shadowy barrier between two worlds, do breathe some
airs from- that which is beyond; have a solemn, joyous
experience till then, in that degree, quite unknown;
and perceive, as if within a curtain, the motions of
forms, whose'outlines:and features they'cannot discern.




LVII.
last Wonrb-o of ITing C ri tian.
"c With lifted eyes,
And aspect luminous, as with the light
Of heaven's opening gate, he strove -to join
His voice with theirs, and breathe out all he felt;
But in the effort feeble nature sank
Exhausted; and, while every voice was hushed,
His fluttering spirit, struggling to get free,
Rose like the-sky-lark singing up to heaven."
WILCOX.
THE boundary is now reached; the soul is ready to
cross.  We stand, and-gaze eagerly, to watch the very
last of those signs which the faithful leave behind; the
utmost link between their pilgrimage here and the world
of angels.  Their last, last words, though perhaps less
significant than many earlier sayings, are yet treasured
with a peculiar sense of sacredness.  But when they
have been uttered with the consciousness that'they
were the last, they must indeed have a mightyrattraction for those who know -that they are to pass by the
same spot, and who long to pass in the same hope or
triumph.
No other words, probably, have been so often heard
from  that spot, as those, or nearly those, with which
our Lord commended His spirit to His Father,, and
with which the first martyr called on the Lord Jesus to
receive his spirit.  These were the last words, substantially, of Basil, of Luther, of Tasso, of' Edward the
Sixth and Lady Jane Grey, of Latimer and. Ridley, of
(272)




THE LAST. ENEMY.              273
Cranmer and Hooper, of Herbert, of Martin Boos;
and it might almost be said that they had become
an established form, where the approach of the moment of departure could be perfectly recognised. An
established form, indeed, of commending the spirit
into the' hands of " a faithful Creator and most merciful Saviour," is said at many bedsides; and, like
Beza, many have died during such a prayer, or, like
Bishop Bull, have only survived to breathe a single or
a repeated Armen.  Another closing cry of devout
hearts has been, as with Bishop Abbot, in the -words
of St. John, " Come, Lord Jesus; come quickly."
cc Depart, my soul, depart," said the ascetic Iilarion,
";why this delay? Dost thou fear death, after almost
seventy years spent in the service of Jesus Christ?"
Two Protestant martyrs, Esch and Voes, -sang Te DIeum
in -the midst of the flames; it is told of Huss and of
Jerome of Prague,: that they died singing hymns in
the fire; and more than one pious minister of Germany
has expired-on a deathbed in -the act of singing. The
last words of many are simple expressions of readiness,
or testimonies of- peace, or affectionate farewells, or
ejaculations of prayer.  ",Peace'! peace! victory! victory'! faith and patience hold out!" were amongst those
of Payson.  With the single exclamation, 4 "My God!
my God!" the spirit of Gustavus Adolphus passed from.
the storm of battle into the w6rld of rest.  The last
words of Doctor Sharp, Archbishop of York, were
from one -of the divine poems of Herbert.'Those of
Sir Edward Coke were, "; Thy kingdom come, thy will
-be done-!"  Doctor Hammond exclaimed,    O joyful
day!" and never spoke again.  So said Cardinal Baronius, ",Now is the hour of triumph and of joy," and
drew his feet together, and placed his hands upon his




2A 4            THE LAST ENEMY.
bosom, and expired.  The poet,. Earl of Roscommon,
in the moment of expiring, cried out fervently, in the
words of his own version of the Dies Irce,
4"My God, my Father, and my Friend,
Do not forsake me in my end."
James Andreme breathed his last in answering to the
question whether he believed a crown of life to be reserved for him-, " Yes;" and Brentius, in the same word,
in answer to the question -whether he held the faith of
the Gospel. Myconius died invoking the Son of God;
Cruciger, in the act of supplication.  The expiring
breath of Lady Falkland was spent in two words of
exhortation, embracing the whole duty of man, ",Fear
God, fear God!"   Mrs. Shepard, whose prayer for
Lord Byron, communicated after her death, so much
moved him, whispered, last of all, ", God's happiness!
God's happiness!"
It is very often seen, however,:that consciousness
survives the power of utterance, and we watch to observe what feelings may possibly be signified, when the
saint is thus actually in the.very depth of the valley.
Sir Matthew Hale, when:he could no longer speak, was
constantly lifting his eyes and his hands.  When Knox
was asked for a sign that he remembered the precious
promises of God, he raised his hand, and died immediately' after. Bishop Ferrar, before his martyrdom, declared'to a friend that, if he saw him move or heard
him utter any cry of pain in the flames, he might reject
his doctrine; and he, was enabled to fulfil the sign.
There are many who can tell with what strange joy
and awe they have -felt the pressure of a hand, or seen
the ecstatic glance or illuminated countenance, when
death had already so far prevailed, that no other token
of what passed within was possible.  HIalyburton said




THE LAST ENEMY.              275
to his friends, " When I fall so low that I am not able
to speak, I will show you, a sign of triumph, if I-am
able;" and, accordingly, when- he could no longer
speak, he lifted and clapped his hands., Doctor Nelson relates an example which, though but one amongst
many, had in it circumstances singularly striking and
convincing.  An aged and exemplary Christian man
remained, in.faith, but without exhilarating readiness
for his'change, even -till his sight and his hearing had
ceased, while his anxious daughter sat by, painfully
longing for that issue of the sun from behind the cloud,
through which all might glorify the Redeemer in whom
he had trusted..While he could yet hear, it was agreed
between them, that if, at any stage of the passage, a
foretaste of heavenly delight should be granted, he
should give her with his hand a certain token. After
his senses were all closed, and his breath had become
obstructed, and he was plainly at the gate of eternity,
he gave the token, and a smile of exultation lighted up
his countenance.
Often, we seem to see the trace of such joy in the
look of him who is already in his coffin, as if the-last
beam'that played on the house of clay was the first
from a brighter sphere. The face of Stephen, when'
his hour approached, was ", as it had been the face of
an'angel;" and so, no doubt, it appeared to the devout
men who bore him to his burial. For the human.eye
there is no more; we should linger around the bed or
watch the bier in. vain.




PART THE FOURTH.
LVIII.
Qvunaiitin in 3ent!1
"Gently —so have good men taughtGently, -and without grief the old shall glide
Into the. new: the eternal flow of things,
Like a bright river of the fields of heaven,
Shall journey onward in perpetual peace.": BRYANT.
THE progress of the departed spirit is imagined with
an intense eagerness of conjecture.  Does it open its
eyes at once, with sudden rapture or alarm, on a scene
of unutterable wonders? Does it awake, as we awake,
from the sleep of night, so gently that the mind is conscious of no struggle, and scarcely of the change from
activity to slumber, and from slumber-to activity again?
Does it carry on a continuous thread of perception,
and know at once the world which it has left, and the
world which it has entered?  Does it feel itself alone
or amongst companions?  Does the separation from
this earth become wider and wider as it advances on
the journey beyond the eternal hills?  Can we attain
to any conception of its sensations, its condition, or its
prospects?
(276)




THE LAST ENEMY.             277
A strong impression of the human mind is, that the
spirit which has departed is not at once very far removed. An influence seems still to hover'near us:
thoughts and dreams of strange distinctness seem like
the spiritual presence of the dead. We linger long
over the subsiding features which we have loved; and a
communion which may be rather felt than proved appears prolonged for a little while.
There seems no reason to deny'that those-pious persons who have been restored after they had all but
passed the gates of death, and those who have spoken
when they were standing there, were really admitted
to glimpses, though faint, of the nature -of that joy
into which one moment more must have opened their
entrance. Their expressions are uniformly descriptive
of a state of deep, ineffable, holy peace, and more than
peace. Such is probably the state of the pardoned
soul so soon as it is-released from the body.
"s This day," said One who was dying, to another who
within a few hours was to die; " this day shalt thou be
with me in Paradise.", The transition, therefore, from
earth to the'place of bliss must be almost immediate;
for it was not till just before sunset that the legs of the
penitent malefactor were'- broken, and, he expired.
There is no indication of an interval.
But that there is an interval between earth and
Paradise, however brief to the disembodied spirit,-'is
apparently told us by the passage of Lazarus from one
state to the other.  " The beggar died, and was carried
by the angels into Abraham's bosom."  A natural supposition is here confirmed by the language of our Saviour.- He speaks of transportation, and thus there
must be transition.
He speaks, too, of companions and guardians; the
24




278              THE LAST ENEMY.
angels or messengers who carried Lazarus to his ubode
of bliss.  They are present to receive the departing
spirit; they accompany and guide it; they are ministering spirits still.
"-Thou art not alone; on either side
The portal, friends stand guard."
It is no dream of the fancy, no poetic imagery, that
shows; them hovering near the deathbed of the just;
but the very word of Him at whose birth and at whose
departure into the skies angels were visibly present,
and talked with men. In that spiritual state they are
doubtless visible to the spirit. Often before the departure, it has seemed to hear unearthly music; and,
in many legends, such strains are related to have been
heard by the spectators.
An apostle, too, was once caught up into Paradise,
and, without death, passed where death is the common
passage.  He knew not whether he was in the body or
out of the body; but he ", heard unspeakable words,
which it is. not lawful for a man to utter." - It is probable that the very remembrances were but such as
could not be communicated in language; perhaps such
as no human thought Could even convey in a distinct
form across the boundary of worlds. We need not forget that such have been the dimly glorious recollections
of those who have seemed to die, yet returned.  Like
Tennant, they have forborne to speak often of what they
remembered; yet have felt a certain home-sickness for
the land which they had but seen from afar.  The employments and joys of that land seem too different from
our own sphere to be here described or even with clearness conceived; but not too different to be capable of
being united for a moment with the experience- of mor



THE LAST ENEMY.               279
tal man, whether, like Paul, he enter in, or, like the
others, stand on the borders.
But there is nothing in their experience to persuade
us that the spirit opens its eyes in eternity, as with a
shock of surprise, allied to alarm.  The apostle was
caught up, without even knowing whether he had left
behind him his earthly tabernacle.  If,- as is probable,
the soul in death feels the same transition, it is but as
the continuance of life in another scene and sphere;
as an unbroken thread passing gently up, though passing swiftly.
The rest is hidden.




LIX.
tate  of At; But after ITt
" Isle of the. evening skies, cloud-visioned land,
Wherein the good meet in the heavenly fold,
And drink of- endless joy at God's right hand;
There kings and subjects meet, and young, and old,
Pure virgins, matrons chaste, and martyrs bold,
Prophets, apostles, patriarchs, great and good,
Many yet one, in union manifold."
WILLIAMS.
THE souls of the just are blessed, from the period'of
their death, as.the souls of the wicked are wretched;
the former,in Paradise,- the latter in torments. So
much the Holy Scriptures have revealed of the life
which immediately. follows death, and they have revealed little more.
When the ancients' spoke in general terms of the
world of spirits, without -allusion to any diversity of
abodes," they called it the unseen land, or gave it some
similar designation, which repeats itself -in their different languages. In the Scriptures of the Old Testament, this general designation of the general state of
the dead is employed with.the same wideness of significance.  It was a vast unseen world; and usually, from
its alliance to the. grave, was described as if it were
below.
In that world, the dead princes are poetically represented as welcoming the fallen sovereign of Babylon;
in that world, too, the rich man- sees Abraham  and
Lazarus far across the impassable gulf of separation.
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THE LAST ENEMY.               281
In that world are"' the spirits in, prison."  Into that
worldpassed the soul of the Redeemer, though there it
was not left. That world.embraces alike the Paradise
of the penitent- malefactor and the- chains and dungeons in which the lost await their final portion.
How' different, how opposite, how inseparable, must
be the regions of that one world, we could imagine from
the extremes which are found in this, and we can learn
from all that is told of their inhabitants. St. Paul exulted that,, to-depart and to be with Christ" was far
better than to- abide1here, useful and blessed as he was,
in the flesh; that though to him "c to live was Christ,"
yet 44 to die was gain."  But Judas Iscariot, after Satan had entered into him, after his guilt had been consummated, went, driven by despair, through the awful
path of suicide, ": to his own place."  ", The souls of
the wicked, in their separate state," says Owen, "c are
perpetually harassed with the disquieting passions which
they have impressed on their minds by their corrupt
fleshly lusts." It is a thought which has often been
urged, and sometimes has been expanded into an immense theory.  The foundation is truth; and that
truth is peculiarly terrible.  Of those, who came out
of great tribulation," it is written that "c they are before the throne of God, and serve him day and night
in his temple;" that ccthey shall hunger no more,
neither thirst any more, neither shall the sun light on
them, nor any heat;" that ",the Lamb shall feed them,
and lead them unto living fountains of waters, and God
shall wipe away -all tears from their. eyes."  Of one
who "c in hell lifted up his eyes, being in torments," it
is written that he asked, and asked in vain, for one
drop of water to touch the tip of his tongue and cool
him in the flame.  So different are the inhabitants, so
24*




282              THE LAST ENEMY.
different the habitations.  Words and images could not
be devised which'should more thoroughly express joy
and woe than those which are employed to describe the
state of the soul after death. Its state,-still later,
when all is consummated, is expressed by the very same
images and words.  The prospect beyond the resurrection is only that of the same joy and woe, prolonged
and made more intense, like twilight passing into day.
In all Christian ages, the mind, clinging to the substantial reality of these scriptural disclosures, has yet
sought to give them a definitiveness more than their
own. Irenseus was content to say that, since the soul
of our Lord departed in that shadow of death where
are the souls of the dead, the souls of his disciples also
shall go into the place assigned them by God. But
Tertullian, in his gross, literal spirit, supposes it to be
beneath the earth; yet reckons Paradise higher than
hell.  Augustin distinguishes Paradise from heaven,
though St. Paul was certainly caught up into Paradise
at the same time as into the third heaven; and in this
distinction he is followed by Bull, Whitby, and Doddridge, in their interpretations of that very passage.
But the language of St. Paul decides that. Paradise,
the abode of the just, is not more scripturally represented as below than as above.  Many of the early
fathers, as Eusebius, Cyril, and Ambrose, carried out
the Pagan imagery of Hades as a shadowy realm, intowhich Christ descended as a- conqueror or a preacher
of deliverance.  Thus "his preaching to the spirits
in prison" is interpreted by Clement of Alexandria,
Athanasius, and Cyril.  One of the earliest Christian
writers says that there is one passage into Hades; but
that, after passing this gate, the righteous journey
towards the right, to the place called the bosom of Abra



THE LAST ENEMY.              283
ham; the wicked towards the left, to a place of misery.
Jerome describes all the patriarchs and'Hebrew saints as
below in Hades, and the gate of Paradise as closed against
them, till Christ descended and burst it open, and something like this seems the opinion of Owen, who supposes
them till then in a qualified bliss. So Chrysostom says that
death before conducted into Hades, but now to Christ.
Justin Martyr even supposed that all of them, like
Samuel, were under the power of such evil spirits as
were allied with the.'woman of Endor.  Augustin,
however, doubted whether the name ", hell" was anywhere in Scripture employed of the abodes of the just.
Hilary gives to the gulf, between the just and unjust,
the designation of chaos. A certain confusion has ensued, as soon as even the wisest and holiest of men have
attempted to divide and bound what the word of God
has left indistinct.
But; amongst all this confusion, the general faith of
Christians, drawn from that word,-has ever been that,
after death; the souls of the faithful live in the world
unseen, in rest and joy; the souls of the wicked in
remorse and despair; that the former are in Paradise,
in the bosom of Abraham, with Christ, in the blessed
company of the just made perfect; the latter in the
bondage and anguish which are emphatically and: only
within the gates of hell.
For both alike, this state is -intermediate, as between
death and the resurrection; and intermediate, as between this life and the consummated happiness or woe
of the life which follows the judgment; but not intermediate, as if for either it were between bliss and
misery. It was indeed a very ancient custom of the
early church to include the blessed dead within the embrace of its general prayers, asking for them no more




284              THE LAST ENEMY.
than their perpetual peace and.'glorious resurrection;
and this in token of unbroken communion, not of
needed intercession.   " Not" having  any doubt at
all," were the words of Charlemagne- concerning Pope
Adrian, ", that his blessed soul is at rest; but that we
may show faithfulness and love unto our most dear
friend." Such prayers, and even the later prayers of the
Roman communion, that the faithful departed cc may not
be condemned unto the everlasting pains of hell," are
justified by Cardinal Bellarmine, the great defender of
that communion, "cNot as if it were not certain that
they should not be condemned unto those pains, but
because it is God's pleasure that we should pray even
for those things which we ate certain to receive." An
idea found in St. Augustin, however, that those who
", are saved, yet so as by fire," might endure a kind of
purgation in the flames Which shall precede. the final
judgment, grew in the course of ages into the unfounded conception of purgatory.  Of'that fiction it
is only to be wished that it were as harmless as it is
baseless.
The language of St. Ambrose -fitly expresses the
general belief of the earliest as well as the latest time
concerning.each of the pious dead.  ",Theodosius," he
says, " being freed from' doubtful fight, doth now enjoy everlasting light, and continual tranquillity; and,
for the things which he did in this body, he rejoiceth in
the fruits of God's reward; because he loved the Lord
his God, he hath obtained the society of His saints."




LX.
9araiaE htweiu'Ptat b    h A tle
" The dead are/like the stars by day:
Withdrawn from mortal eye,
But not extinct, they hold their way
In glory through the sky."
MONTGOMERY.
THE abode and the condition of the departed just'
have indeed been disclosed but by glimpses, through the
divine ~oracles. - Still, a few most interesting features,
which the longing mind would have imagined, have thus
an ample confirmation.
Our thoughts would turn to the pure skies for the
destined habitations of pure spirits. One of our race
went visibly, without the common form of dissolution,
to a glorious rest; and he was borne into the skies.
Was he at once admitted into a higher- world than
saints who die and leave their bodies to the sepulchre?
Here, the lines between Paradise and ccthe third
heaven" fade away.  The Saviour ascended in the
body; but those who depart in Him are with Him,
though their bodies rest in ten thousand graves. Moses
died on Mount Nebo, and was buried in a valley of
Moab, by unseen hands of angels; but he came with
Elias, to bring together the law, the prophets, the Gos(285)




286.             THE LAST ENEMY.
pel, and the apostles on the mountain of the transfiguration. It would be difficult to avoid believing that
either the body of Elias was left behind when he ascended, or that of Moses had been raised and glorified.
They came to the summit of a hill, to a spot nearest to
the skies, and from the skies they came; the skies, to
which Elias had visibly gone; the skies, to which the
Lord Jesus afterward ascended; the skies into- which
Paul was caught up; the skies, from which the Lord
will come again, bringing with Him  those who sleep
in Jesus. Not in delusion, therefore, nor merely in
poetry, do we speak of such as gone upward, as in
heaven.
The appearance of Moses and Elias is also a proof
of some knowledge of terrestrial events amongst the
saints above.  At that one point at least, on that one
great occasion, the worlds of the departed and of the
living were in contact. There is no cause'for affirming
that single instance to be the one sole exception on- that
side of the veil, as well as on this. Their state is higher
than ours, and must embrace wider and deeper knowledge.  They do not come to us, and therefore can tell
us nothing which happens there; but we go to them,
and therefore they may well receive information of all
which happens here. They are exhibited -to us- in Holy
Writ as "c a cloud of witnesses," by whom we are compassed about; a-mighty mass of spectators, like those
who, as if in one thick cloud skirting the horizon, encompassed and overhung the lists where the racers
toiled on towards the prize.  Witnesses they assuredly
are; and they seem to be represented rather as witnesses who evermore look down upon the struggle,
than merely as those who are soon to know its issue.
St. John ", saw under the altar," or at the foot of that




THE LAST ENEMY.              287
towering'structure in the celestial temple-, "the souls of
them that were slain for the word of God, and for the
testimony which they held: and they cried with a loud
voice, saying, I Hlow long, 0 Lord, holy and true, dost
thou not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell
on the earth? And white robes were given unto every
one of them; and it was said unto them that they should
rest yet for a little season, until their fellow-servants
also, and their brethren, that should be killed as they
were, should be fulfilled." Both the cry and the answer
suppose-a knowledge of the course of events below; a
knowledge and an interest. The interest, indeed, could
never be doubted; for no pure and hallowed affection
dies.
That it should ever have been doubted, whether the
inhabitants of the spiritual world recognise each other
in that abode, is but an example of the wide influence
of unbelief, suggesting the strangest dimness wherever
the Scriptures had not spoken in the most explicit
words, even though the obvious reason for which the
words had not been spoken was, that to speak them was
needless.; Why should not the departed recognise and
be recognised? How can their very nature and being
be so utterly changed that they should be able to exist
in the same world, to remember, and to be a general
assembly, a church, a' society, without recognition? If
the future life is the sequel and result and retribution
of the present, how can recognition fail? Not a step
can we proceed, not a conception can we form, not a
statement of divine revelation can we clearly embrace,
in our contemplations of the future life, without admitting or involving the necessity of mutual recognition as
well as mutual remembrance and affection. Were Moses




288             THE -AST ENEMY.
and Elias unknown each to the other? Did the martyrs
below the altar utter the same cry, without knowing the
history of their companions, each a stranger amongst.
strangers?  Was Abraham a stranger to Lazarus, or
was Lazarus seen and known by the rich man only?
Could those who watch for souls render account for
them, with joy or grief, and yet not know their doom?
Could Christian converts be the "c glory and joy" of an
apostle at the coming of the Lord, if he knew them
not?  Could the patriarchs beseen in the kingdom of
God by none but those who should be shut'out? All
proceeds on the supposition of just such knowledge
there as here. It is probable, indeed, that the human
soul must always clothe itself with form, even in the
separate state; and such a form would bear the same
impress which had been given to the mortal -body.
There is no extravagance in the wish of Doctor Randolph to know Cowper above from his picture here, or in
the same thought as expressed in the verses of Southey
on the portrait of Heber.
Only one objection is urged in reply: it proceeds
from the feelings. I]t asks, how we could be happy,
and know the Objects of our earthly love to be absent.
But with equal stress it, may be replied, that it would
be just as difficult to be happy while we could not know
them to be sharers of our happiness.  The'dreaded
sorrow of missing one cannot be escaped by supposing
a state of forgetfulness towards others, through which
we should miss all. For, if a still intenser forgetfulness
were imagined, in which our own history in this -lifej
with all recollection of all men should be lost, there
could no longer be- that identity of consciousness without which there could be no reward, or punishment, or




THE LAST ENEMY.'              289
individual immortality.   Such suggestions should. be
met with a simple, humble faith, in' that all-providing
wisdom which can enable the -human soul to forget all
which it.might be distressed to remember, can fill it'
with all holy and joyous meditations, and can, in a
thousand ways, preserve the flowers of memory without
its thorns.
Of the events of that long sojourn, of the progress of
the soul, of its employments, for events, and progress,
and employments there must be, only the slightest
glimpses are afforded.  "4The veil," says Arnold, "sis
purposely drawn, that we might not seek to hold too
close communion with the dead."  Whatever may be
the delusion of those who forget or disregard the great
and impassable gulf which is fixed by death itself betw.een the just and unjust, we need not hide from ourselves that centuries and even thousands of years cannot
well be fruitless in the world of spirits.  In a comparative infancy all enter there; in real infancy, many. A
mighty development must be accomplished; perhaps a
high and blessed education, the complement of all which
was left unfinished here. ", As we are here," says Owen,
c in and by the word and other ordinances prepared
and made meet for the present state of things in glory,
so are they by the temple-worship of heaven fitted for
that state of things when Christ shall give up the kingdom unto the Father."  ZBut it is hidden from us now,
under general images of rest and peace; that state is
shown, even in revelation, only by glimpses; glimpses,
through which many have delighted to perceive, though
uncertainly, a guardian instrumentality of the departed
just in still serving, the kingdom of God-and the souls
of their brethren here.
25




290              THE  LAST ENEMY.
Even in glimpses of such a state, all which is deepest
within us rejoices and will rejoice.- The imagination
and the heart long for more; but sanctified by Christian hope, they catch with exquisite delight the few,
bright rays which the word of God reflects, as they fall
from the scenes of Paradise.




LXI..gesnrrertiou of C0  ris-." When by a good man's grave I muse alone,
Methinks' an angel sits upon the stone;
Like those of old, on that thrice-hallowed night,
Who sat and watched in- raiment heavenly, bright;
And with-a voice inspiring joy, not fear,
Says, pointing upward, that he is not here.
That he is risen!"
Thus death has reigned over all men, and must reign;
and even the triumphant departure of the redeemed
spirit, and its separate abode in the joys of Paradise,
are still tokens of the fulfilment of the universal sentence. The Redeemer of the world has promised a consummation yet more complete, and in His own person
has given the earnest. It was not possible that He who
came to destroy death "s should be holden of it;" that
the body which was prepared for Him, and in which
He bore our sins, should remain in the power of the
grave; nor was even the common victory permitted,
that His flesh should- see corruption.  Receiving but,
it as were, a slight and momentary wound, such as a
serpent may inflict on the heel that crushes its head,
He conquered death, and him  that had the power of
death.
The resurrection of -Jesus was probably instantaneous; but it had no human witnesses.  When His followers approached the tomb, He was no longer there;
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292              THE LAST ENEMY.
the guards ha4d been smitten with a' stupor of terror
which was like death itself; and probably they neither
saw nor heard while the stone was rolled away by an
-angel. The moment of reanimation was veiled from
mortal view; we only know that the earth quaked;
that angels were near; and that, when men beheld the
spot again, He was risen.
A few hours after, at the utmost, he was seen by
Mary Magdalene, near the sepulchre. He met the other
Mary, and Salome, and they ", held Him by the feet."
On the same day He was seen by Peter, by Cleopas
and another disciple, on the way to Emmaus; and,
in the evening, by ten of the apostles, assembled at
Jerusalem. With them. He ate, and breathed upon
them.
A week after, He met the whole.eleven; and Thomas
was permitted to touch the print of the wounds in His
hands and His side. Again,jHe was seen on the shore
of the lake of Tiberias, by Peter and Thomas, Nathanael, and James, and John, and two other disciples.
At that time, He again took bread with them at their
humble repast. A-fterwards, on an appointed mountain
in Galilee, He appeared to no less than five hundred
believers, -most of whom survived many years, to relate
that wonderful meeting, and to convince mankind by
their own readiness to suffer for what their eyes had
witnessed.  Once he was present, too, with one apostle
alone, either James the son of Zebedee, or James the
son of Alpheus. Through a period of forty days, He
thus ", showed Himself alive," by many signs, under
many circumstances; and carried on with His apostles
long and most interesting conversations,expounding to
them the prophecies which had foreshown His death
and resurrection.  At the end of forty days, He was




THE LAST ENEMY.              293
for the last time with the eleven; gave them His parting commands,- and going out with them to the Mount
of Olives, and to  Bethany, thence in their sight
ascended into heaven, and a cloud received Him from
their gaze.
If the.vision of St. Stephen in his dying moments
can be explained without allusion to the resurrection
of the Lord Jesus, not thus can we explain His appearance to` St. Paul on the road to Damascus; for the
apostle himself relates it —amongst the instances in
which the Redeemer had been seen after His resurrection.
Such a body of witnesses attest the great victory
over the grave.  It is attested, however, not only by
pure apostles and faithful martyrs, who spoke -that
which they had seen, but also by every token of the
presence of God in the Gospel and the church of Christ.
That fact of facts is rather the keystone than the cornerstone of revelation; all the parts sustain it, and it
upholds them all. "6 The Lord is risen," said the apostles; as the angels had said before, ", He is not here,
but is risen;" and every Sunday, and every Easter-day,
and every baptism, in which men are "c planted in the
likeness of His death, that they may be in the likeness
of His resurrection," and every Christian burial, transmits the same tidings with one more testimony.  ", If
Christ be not risen,' says every preacher, with Paul,
"then is our preaching vain, and your faith is also
vain."-  ",But- now is Christ risen from the dead.''
From that hour when- the tomb of Joseph was, opened
to the first rays of the dawn, death was no more what
death had been since the last sunset shone-on Eden.
Before, two human forms had been borne into the skies,
without yielding to the common doom which consigns
25*




294             THE LAST ENEMY.
the body to the grave. Now, the grave had prevailed,
and yet had been compelled to relinquish its prize.
Bo-dy and spirit were reunited after their painful separation; and henceforth it was a part of the knowledge
which rests not on faith alone, but on human sight, that
both are immortal.




LXII.
8tgut tiorr un  of athan   in  (f&jriot
"Then, then I rose; then, first humanity
Triumphant passed the crystal ports of light,
Stupendous guest, and seized eternal youth,
Seized in our name."'
-YOUNG.
THE relation between the -resurrection of the Lord
and the everlasting destinies of men must be learned,
if learned at all, solely from the Scriptures.
There His resurrection is ascribed to a special operation of Omnipotence. Our faith is in, " the operation
of. God, who hath raised Him  from the dead."  God
4, loosed the pains of death," and "c raised up the Lord
Jesus;" and with remarkable frequency is the act
named as that of the Father.,c This Jesus hath God
raised up;" "c being by the right hand of God exalted."
It was c" according to the working of His mighty power,
which He wrought in Christ, when He raised Him from
the dead, and set Him at His own right hand in the
heavenly places."  He ", brought again from the dead
our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep,
through the blood of the everlasting covenant."  He
", raised Him up from the dead, and gave Him glory."
But our Saviour also asserted that the power to effect
His own resurrection dwelt in Himself.,, " Destroy this
temple," said He of the temple of His body, "c and in
three days I will raise it up again.",, I have power,"
He said of His own life, " to lay it down, and I have
(295)




296             THE LAST ENEMY.
power to take -it again: this commandment have I received of my Father."
He was, too, though, put to death in the flesh, quickened by the Spirit." "' Made of the seed of David
according to the flesh, He was declared to be the-Son
of God with power, according to the Spirit-of holiness,
by the iresurrection from the dead." Thus, like the
creation of the first man, Adam, the resurrection of
the second man, the,Lord from heaven, as well as His
incarnation, is at different times ascribed to the Father,
the Son, and the Holy Ghost.
The end of His exaltation was,-" to be a Prince and
a Saviour, to -give repentance to Israel, and forgiveness
of sins."  He ", was raised again for our justification."
He "4 is ever at the right hand of God, and maketh-intercession for us." c",God raised Him up, and showed
Him openly," and commanded His apostles to " testify.
that it is He which was ordained of God to be the Judge
of; quick and dead.;" and ",to Him give all the prophets witness."  God ", hath given assurance unto all
men that He will judge the world in righteousness by
that man whom He hath ordained, in that He hath
raised Him from the dead."  He " died, and rose, and
revived, that He might be Lord both of the dead and
living." ", God also hath highly exalted Him and given
Him  a name which is above every name, that at the
name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in
heaven, and things in'earth, and things under the
earth."  He "4is gone into heaven, and is on the right
hand of God; angels, and authorities, and powers,
being made subject unto Him."
It is in our nature that He has returned from the
grave, and is exalted -even to the throne of heaven.
He took that nature upon Him that He might suffer




THE LAST ENEMY.               297
with it, and then might lift it to life and immortality.
His own promise was, "(I go to prepare a place for
you:'" c where I am, there shall my servant be."  I-Ie
is raised from the -dead, now no more to return to corruption:" He " dieth no more; death hath no more
dominion over Him.."  He,c died unto sin once, but in
that Hie liveth, He liveth unto God."  Ii this resurrection and life, He only precedes His people; and
what they believe of Him, they must now believe of
themselves.  cc I would not have you. to be ignorant,"
says the apostle Paul, ",concerning them which are
asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others which have no
hope; for, if we believe that Jesus died and rose again,even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God. bring
with Him."  " If the dead rise not, then is not Christ
raised;" "but now is Christ risen from the dead, andbecome the first-fruits of them that slept. For since
by man came death, by man came also the resurrection
of the dead. For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ
shall all be made alive."  "c The last Adam was made
a quickening spirit;",s as we have borne the image of
the earthy, we shall also bear the image of the heavenly."  Thus, "c if'by one man's offence death reigned
by one, much more they which receive abundance of
grace and of the gift of righteousness shall reign in life
by one, Jesus Christ."  -cc If we be dead with Him, we
shall also live with Him."  cc-If so be that we suffer
with Him, we shall be also glorified together."  " He
shall change our vile body that it may be fashioned like
unto His glorious body.",, To him that overcometh,"
is henceforth His promise, "c will I grant to sit with me
in my throne, even as I also overcame, and am set
down with my Father in His throne."
Raised, therefore, from the dead, and exalted to the




298             THE LAST ENEMY.
right hand of the Father, for the justification and salvation of His people, He bears with Him the nature
which He had assumed; and is the second head of the
human family.  In Him and with Him all men have
the resurrections of the body.  They die as the first
Adam died: they shall rise again as the secondAdam
rose. If, here on earth, they have been morally renewed after His image, they shall rise to everlasting
life: if they have- rejected His mercies, to shame and
everlasting contempt.




LXIII.
loayubqf C sriot afMtu  toS osunrdtilM+
Heavy and dull this frame of limbs and heart,
Whether slow creeping on cold earth, or borne
On lofty steed, or loftier prow,' we dart.
O'er wave or field: yet breezes laugh to scorn
Our puny speed, and birds', and clouds in heaven,
And fish, like living shafts that pierce the main,
And stars that shoot through freezing air at evenWho but would follow, might he break his chain.
And thou shalt break it soon; the grovelling worm
Shall find his wings, and soar as fast and free
As his transfigured Lord, with lightning form
And snowy vest —such grace He won for thee,
When from the -grave He sprung at dawn of morn,
And led through boundless air thy conquering road,
Leaving a glorious track; where saints new-born
Might fearless follow to their blest abode."
KEBLE.
MANY questions of vast interest gather around the
theme of the resurrection of Jesus. His body was
the type of -that which shall be received in the general
resurrection; for He ", shall change- our vile body, that
it may be fashioned like unto His glorious body."
In that body He was seen, was heard, was touched.
He walked, He ate, He breathed upon the apostles.
These offices and functions, natural in the present body,
cannot be, in the future body, miraculous. They were
performed with the express design of convincing the
disciples that they really beheld their Lord in the body,
and not an impalpable apparition. ", Handle me," said
He, ", and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as
ye see me have.-" The argument was not deceptive;
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300             THE LAST ENEMY.
and such must be the body of the resurrection as was
that body which they beheld and handled.
It was recognised, too, as-the same which had bled
upon the cross.  The same wounds were seen. in the
hands, the same in the- side; they were demanded by
Thomas as the signs of identity; and as such they
were displayed.  Had this identity been merely apparent; had the marks of these wounds been assumed,
through an exercise of divine power, the proof would
have been an illusion.  The body which shall rise must
thus be distinguishable as the same which here lived
and died.
But in this body many acts were- done by the risen
Saviour, which exceeded the common functions of our
present nature. He was not known, at the first glance,
even by the familiar eyes of Mary Magdalene; so that,
it should seem, His person must at His will have sustained some change of aspect. Hle was not known by
the two disciples with whom He walked to Emmaus, till
He broke bread with His accustomed gestures, and
" their eyes were opened."  At His pleasure, He appeared, and He vanished.  During forty days, He was
only manifested from time to time,' but commonly remained beyond the reach-or sight of enemies or friends.
When He at last departed, the' manner of His departure transcended the laws which bind all earthly bodies.
This moment, He stood amongst the apostles on the
hill which they had so'often visited together, near the
groves of olives; the next, He passed upward, with His
hands stretched in blessing; and, while they looked
earnestly after, His form was lost in the brightness of
the skies.
All these powers, however, though far exceeding all
with which our present natural bodies are endued, might




THE LAST ENEMY.               301
have been exercised by our Lord while He was yet in
the present body, through His miraculous dominion
over nature.  He did walk upon the sea; He passed,
as some interpreters have supposed, unseen through the
crowd of His adversaries; He was transfigured, so that
His face shone as the sun, His raiment became white as
the snow and glistering, and the fashion of His countenance was altered.  Can it be inferred, from the exercise of such powers after His resurrection that, in any
me.asure, they belong to the body of the resurrection?
The exercise of powers which are miraculous is the
exception, even where they most abundantly reside.
Our Saviour, before His death, wrought miracles only
as exceptions, but commonly acted under the general
laws to which corporeal nature is subject.  But these
wonderful circumstances after His resurrection were not
exceptions, but the ordinary operations of each day and
hour. If, before His death, He once walked on the
sea., He ordinarily lived and moved upon the earth.
But if, after His resurrection, He came and went invisibly, appeared. or disappeared "at His pleasure, was
known -or unknown as He might desire, stood in the
midst of His disciples without warning of His approach,
and was borne into the heavens spontaneously, this
seemed but the common action of the new life which
was now begun. That He should at all appear after
death, was something entirely beyond the ordinary
course of present nature, but was the commencement
of another order of'things, which is to be realized
hereafter, and is henceforth natural. His life after the
resurrection was, in its circumstances, like His life before: only so far miraculous as its ordinary course was
interrupted for special ends.  We know not that any
one of those circumstances, which to our present bodies
26




302             THE LAST ENEMY.
would be preternatural, was such to His risen body; we
cannot conceive it possible that such was the character
of all.
Something, then, is proved by the resurrection of
Jesus, beyond the mere fact of the future resurrection.
It proves that the future body is identical, and can be
visibly perceived to be identical, with the present. It
proves that the future body can perform the functions
of the present.  It proves that the future body, however, has other functions, embracing far more commanding relations towards surrounding nature, than
those of the present. The character of some of these
functions may be inferred from the wonderful appearances and the wonderful departure of the risen Redeemer. When our body shall be fashioned like unto
that in which He Went up into heaven, these powers,
no doubt, amongst many others, must be a part of its
glory.




LXIV.
3n0erual  hedge                        MUe,sfle Eeurrerlon.
"The groans of nature in this nether world,
Which heaven has heardfor ages, have an end."
COWPER.
THE succession of that great harvest of which the
death of our Saviour was the seed, is thus described:
", Every man in his own order; Christ the first-fruits;
afterward) they that are Christ's at His coming." As
a great pledge, many bodies of saints that slept arose,
and came out of the graves at His resurrection; but
thenceforth there is an interval. It is that space during which the, Christian destinies of the world are to
be accomplished; -then cometh the resurrection; and
then the end.
At first, it- was easy for the believers to imagine that
the rapid result of the triumphs or struggles of the Gospel was to be the preparation of the way of the Lord
for His early return.  He-was at hand; every eye
should see Him; it might be to-morrow; it might be
to-day.  His words had- been such as to create perpetual expectation, and to enjoin incessant watchfulness.  The first believers watched, and waited for the
sound of His coming, as of a thief in the night.
But soon it was revealed to the apostles that-much
remained to be seen on earth before the sign of the Son
of man should be seen in heaven. For this, time, many
(303)




304             THE LAST ENEMY.
years, perhaps many centuries, must be demanded in
the common course of Providence.  When the canon
of sacred books was closed with the Apocalypse, numbers were even assigned, expressive of periods still to
come; numbers and periods which, when they were
compared with those of the older prophecies, seemed
to point to a long, long development of events in the
future.
That development, too, has in great part been realized. Much, and probably most, of all which was
predicted is now in the past. But it is, and must continue to be, as true as ever, that ", of that day and that
hour knoweth no man," when the last enemy, which is
death, shall be~trodden under the feet of the returning
Deliverer.
Thus much, however, we know from the only source
of such knowledge.. A succession of great and of disastrous events would spread their clouds over the face
of society. Nation would rise against nation: earthquakes, famines, pestilences, would follow each other,
from age to age; and history would be the narrative of
wars, of pestilences, of temporary victories won by the
powers of darkness, and of human sufferings succeeded
by no general repentance.  Still, the word of  God
should have its course;-the Gospel should be preached,
sooner or later, to all nations; and the kingdoms of the
world should at length become the kingdoms of the
Lord. But in the mean while, gigantic powers were to
rise against the truth; an Antichrist, a Man of Sin,
exalting himself above all that is worshipped; a city on
seven hills, corrupting the nations; an army like locusts,
laying waste the earth; adversaries, who should trample
down the outer courts of the sanctuary; Gog-and Ma



THE LAST ENEMY.               305
gog, and the nations gathered against the holy city.
All these enemies should be overcome, before the subjugation of the last enemy.
Periods of a thousand years, and of a thousand two
hundred and, threescore days or years, appear in the
sacred vision. It should'seem that the latter is nearly
past: it must be that the former is yet to come. When
these are over, with all which precedes or follows or
lies between, that,c day for which all other days were
made" shall come suddenly.  The lightning, the approach of the thief, the twinkling of an eye, are the
comparisons that illustrate the suddenness of its coming.
Thus much we know, while generation after generation are gathered to their fathers.  The work of death
mu st be complete; the number of the elect finished.
Each generation must watch, like those before; and,
whatever probable -calculations may be made, to prove
a greater or less distance, it was not intended that any
mortals should be permitted to close their ears against
the sound of the chariot-wheels.  Scoffers, it was foretold, would cry, " Where is- the promise of His coming?" but they would all lie down in their turn in the
grave.  Good men, observing "cthe signs of the times,"
would again and again be disappointed, and cry, cc How
long?" and they too would go to their rest.  Death
must prevail over every generation but one, before
*death too shall die.
The last sun will rise or set, rising on one region of
the earth and setting on another, without creating, we
may presume, any new hope or alarm. All nature will
pursue its appointed course, and all. human society will
be engaged as always before, eating and drinking, marrying and givingin marriage, or watching and praying,
26*




306              THE- LAST ENEMY.
under the same calm  skies, till in a moment, fixedfrom eternity, the last of all that shall sleep will expire, the sentence, c Unto dust shalt thou return,"
will have been accomplished, and "ithe trumpet shall
sound."




LXV.
tSrnmiii of t~ie  eglurrrtinin.
OF the appointed hour our Lord has said, c"-The hour
is coming, in the which all that are in the graves shall
hear His voice, and shall come forth." It was the first
occasion on which He is recorded to  have spoken of'the
belief in the resurrection of the dead, which generally
prevailed amongst the Jews; and He both confirmed it
by His'word, and connected it with His person, mission
and authority.  "As the Father raiseth up the dead,
and quickeneth them, even so the Son quickeneth whom
He will; for, the Father judgeth no man, but hath committed all judgment unto the Son."
The resurrection of the body itself was a part of the
hope revealed to the patriarchs, and cherished by the
faithful in Israel. At this day, the very words chosen
to utter our hope over the graves.'of our brethren, are
those in which Job uttered his own: "c Though after my
skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I
see God."  That hope had come down from father to
son;-and the bones of Jacob and his sons were, in that
hope, carried from Egypt to the land of promise.. To
the patriarchs, God was "' not. the God of the dead, but
of the living;" all lived to Him; and they believed,
with Abraham, that IIe' was able to raise them from
the dead. The thought that the flesh should not be
given over to corruption; that the wicked should lie in
Hades, and the righteous'should have dominion over
(307)




808              THE LAST ENEMY.
them in the morning, was familiar to the Psalmist, and
to those who sang his melodies.  When Ezekiel, in hisvision, saw the dry bones starting up into an army of
living men, it was no strange figure, but only what his
faith foresaw at that (4 end of the days," when, as was
told to his contemporary, Daniel, ", many of them that
sleep in the dust of the' earth shall awake, some to ever-lasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt."  In such a faith, that mother, whose story is
found in the records of the Maccabees, assured her
seven sons while they were dying in torments, that
"- doubtless the Creator of the world would of His own
mercy give them breath and life again."  It was the
common faith of all the Jews, except the Sadducees,
who denied all spiritual existence.  Some readily believed that John the Baptist was risen from the dead;
others, that one of the -prophets had returned.. In
their assembly, therefore, St. Paul appealed confidently
to the hope of the resurrection of the dead, as that
which he held with his countrymen, and with their
fathers.
To a people thus taught, our Saviour said that He
would. raise up every one that should believe on Him;
every one that should eat His flesh and drink His blood., I am the resurrection and the life," He said to Martha, when she had professed her belief that her brother
should ", rise again in the resurrection at the last day."
In reply to the Sadducees, He declared that the resurrection of the dead was implied even in the promises to
the patriarchs.  He intimated it in the assertion that
God is ", able to destroy both soul and body in hell." To
His disciples He gave the assurance, in every form, that
the life which He was to enter at His resurrection
should be theirs; that He would prepare a place for




THE LAST ENEMY.               309
them, and would come again, and receive them to Himself; that where HIe would be they should be also; that
they should share His glory, His throne, His marriagesupper. Every such promise was a promise of the
resurrection unto life.
The apostles preached at once that Christ should be
the Judge of the quick and dead; a distinction which
could not but import a return of the dead to stand with
the living  at His judgment-seat.  They preached
"' Jesus and the resurrection,",  the resurrection of the
dead."  " Of the hope and resurrection of the dead,"
cried Paul,  I am called in question."," I have hope
towards God," ho said to Felix, -, which they themselves'also allow, that there shall be resurrection of the dead,
both of the just and unjust."  He had taught, from the
prophets,, not only that Christ should rise, but that He
cc should be the first that should rise."  The first must
be followed by others; and they are -the whole multitude of mankind.'"What the apostles preached, they wrote with greater
distinctness of detail.  They constantly spoke of their
own attitude as one of waiting for the coming of the
Lord Jesus Christ with all His saints.  ", If we believe,"
they said, ccthat Jesus died and rose again, even-so
them  also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with
Him."-,If there be no resurrection of the dead, then
is Christ not risen."," Christ is risen from the dead,
and become the first-fruits of them that slept."  ccAs
in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made
alive."  cc This, corruptible must put on incorruption,
and this mortal must put-on immortality."  ", He which
raised up the Lord Jesus shall raise up us also by Jesus."'    When Christ, who is our life, shall appear,
then shall ye also appear with Him in glory."  Among




310              THE LAST ENEMY.
the foundations of apostolic doctrine, are named those of
the ", resurrection of the dead, and of eternal judgment."
They condemned, as a corrupting canker, the pretence
", that the resurrection is past already.",I saw the dead, small and great,"' says St. John,
"c stand before God-:" " the sea gave up the dead which
were in it, and death and hell delivered up the dead
which were in them."
So from Enoch, who prophesied, "sthe Lord cometh,
with ten thousand of His saints," to him who died but
yesterday in the faith of Christ, the- grave has never
seemed the last resting-place of the just.  They repose
in hope: they are buried in sure and certain hope; a
hope which is builtlsimply and s-olely on the revelation
of God.  All things around might speak only of decay
and perpetual dissolution.  These -very bodies are reduced to their first elements, to fragments, to dust, to
gases, to imperceptible principles; and are mingled
with the vast system of corporeal nature; with earth,
air, water, with winds and woods and the organization
of reptiles, birds, and insects.  Faith only, the'faith
of the Gospel, can assure us of any other life from the
grave; and simply and only because we believe in Jesus
and His resurrection, we believe that all these dead shall
rise.




LXVI.
"Through his veins,
In lighter current, ran immortal life;
His form renewed to undecaying health,
To undecaying health, his soul. * * *
The good and evil, in a moment, all
Were changed, corruptible to incorrupt,
And mortal to immortal, ne'er to change.
POLLO.
1"BUT some man will say, How are the dead raised
up? and with what body do they come?"  The answer
is given by: an apostle; but it is preceded by. a rebuke
of the folly of the questioner,, and it is drawn from
the observation  of the course of nature.   " Thou
fool, that which thou sowest is not quickened, except it
die; and that which thou sowest, thou sowest not that
body that shall be, but bare grain, it may chance of
wheat, or; of some other grain; but God giveth it a
body as it hath pleased Him, and to every seed its own
body."  The divine oracle seems to bid us look out
upon the face of the universe and see the mysteries
there, and doubt no longer.  There is a reference to
natural reason and to natural illustrations; and therefore these are to assist us, even while the word: affords
the only decision.
The comparison of the seed intimates a diversity of
frame, an identity of existence, and a permanence of
vitality.  ", Thou sowest not that body that shall be:'
the seed and the plant have a widely different aspect.
(311)




312              THE LAST ENEMY.
But the seed is nevertheless the same thing' with the
plant; and the whole plant is virtually enveloped in
the seed from which it is to be developed.  The very
life itself.is something permanent; for, although the
seed substantially dies, although its whole body of lobes
becomes dead earth, yet the germ which they enclose
does not perish, but is- quickened, and receives its first
vegetative nourishment from-this very earth.  In the
same- manner, the human body is deposited -in the
ground, and all its visible frame is dissolved.  But it is
impossible to say that there remains not somewhere,
amidst the elements to which it'- is reduced, a germ,
however imperceptible, from which the immortal body
may yet develop itself in an instant.  Too little is
known of that wondrous principle, whatever it be,
which remains through life, and gives to the body the
same peculiar, individual form, aspect, and identity,
distinguishing it from all others, though every perceptible particle be repeatedly changed.and removed.  We
can only say that, whether there be such a germ or not
in the physical nature of corporeal man, such a germ
there is in the more general system which embraces all
the divine arrangement for his immortality; and the
more exact analogy between this process and that of
the revival of the seed is suggested by the very language of the Scriptures.
St. Paul proceeds to say that, as there are such varieties of bodies here in the flesh, bodies of fishes,
beasts, and -birds; and such varieties in the larger universe, bodies celestial and terrestrial; so the body of
this -life and that of the resurrection are various.
c'There is a natural body, and there is a spiritual
body."  One belongs. to this present'state, and is
adapted to its animal and physical necessities; the




THE- LAST ENEMY.             313
other belongs to that state in which the spirit is to wield
a far more ethereal organization. Indications of the
powers of such a spiritual body are seen not only in the
acts of our Saviour after his resurrection, but also in His
assurance that the children of the resurrection are
made like and equal unto the angels.
That spiritual body, in contrast with the body which
was sown, is described as glorious, powerful, and incorruptible and immortal.  It is to the body in the grave
what the rich, waving tree, with its broad branches, its
green foliage and its golden fruit, is to the dull, dead
atoms of the -little seed under the furrows.  The bodies
of the just shall be fashioned-like unto that glorious
body, of which some glimpses were given in the transfiguration.  Of that body it is told that it was brighter
than the sun, and that the raiment outshone the light.
When angels have appeared, it has been, at least often,
in white apparel, in shining garments. Perhaps there
is an alliance between the ethereal element of light and
all which is most glorious in the higher worlds from
which it emanates; perhaps it is the nearest approach
in this earthly state to the splendours of a state of
which no actual resemblance can here be attained.
A spiritual body must exercise far mightier powers
than the present body over the material elements, since
it is not restrained by its own fetters. What capacities
of motion and action belong necessarily to the spirit,
were the organs through which it must operate less
gross and earthy! Every sensation, every perception,
every operation in which the mind employs the body,
must then be inconceivably subtler, quicker, more comprehensive and more intense. To the corruptible body
alone belong inability, weariness, pain, disease, obstruct
tion, by the necessity of its constitution,
27




414              THE LAST ENEMY.
But, vast as is the change, all that are in the graves
shall come forth; each'body the same, by a law of
identity, with that which slept; the same, yet another,
as the butterfly, the soaring emblem of immortality, is
the same with the worm and the chrysalis. One generation, we know, will not even suffer the change of the
grave, but another change, by which, in a moment, in
the twinkling of an eye, the -present mortal nature shall
-rather be clothed upon. than unclothed, and -mortality
be swallowed up of life.
The resurrection in the last day is' one in which ", all
that are in the graves shall come forth:" but whatever
is more minutely said or intimated of the body of the
resurrection is spoken of those who have slept and lived
in Jesus. They that come unto the resurrection of
damnation are also endued with an immortal body, prepared for the endurance of that just doom which sends
them cc away into everlasting punishment."
So little can we know of the deepest seeds of even
the corporeal organization, that it is impossible to say
or judge whether the germ of the immortal body, mysteriously enclosed in the mortal, may or may not be
made, through the direct effect of holiness or of sin,
the germ  of necessary bliss or woe hereafter.  The
body of the believer is the temple of the Holy Ghost.
They that sow to the flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption. How deep that sanctification or that corruption may now reach into the depths of our corporeal
being, is known to the Author of that being.  The
blessing and the taint are corporeal as well as spiritual,
both now and in the resurrection; and both perhaps
may extend their electric chain through the very darkness of the grave.




LXVII.
t atW  of Rntl.
"The isles
With heaving ocean, rocked; the mountains shook
Their ancient coronets;' the avalanche
Thundered; silence succeeded through the nations
Earth never listened to a sound like this.
It struck the general pulse of nature still,
And broke for ever the dull sleep of death."
HILLHOUSE.
THE events of the last resurrection are painted in
the Scriptures with a peculiar grandeur.  From various
portions of the New  Testament a mighty picture is
formed, on which the eyes of successive generations
were to be fastened, in the sure knowledge that every
eye should see the stupendous reality.,
In a day and an hour of which no man or angel
knoweth, the Lord Jesus shall return from  heaven as
He ascended into heaven.  ",lie shall come in His own
glory, and in His Father's."   The presence of the
angels, of all the angels, and the magnificence of His
train, is everywhere signified, in contrast with His former humiliation.   Some amazing sign shall herald His
coming: ",Then shall appear the sign of the Son of
man in heaven; and then shall all the tribes of the
earth mourn; and they shall see the Son of man coming in the clouds of heaven, with power and great
glory."   They " shall see Him  sitting on the right
(315)




316             THE LAST ENEMY.
hand of power," clothed with the might and majesty
of the Godhead.  ",The heavens must receive Him
until the times of restitution of all things."  We
", wait for the Son of God from heaven;" from heaven
we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ."
It is particularly- told us, that' He shall come ";, with
all His saints."  They who have cc slept in Jesus " shall
be ", brought with Him " as a part of His shining train,
so that those " who are alive and remain" shall -not,, prevent.," or precede, ", them which are asleep."
He cc shall descend from heaven-with a shout, with
the voice of the archangel, and with- the trump of
God."  "cFor the trumpet shall sound, and the dead
shall be raised incorruptible."  It was with the'same
sound that the presence of God on'Mount Sinai, when
the law came to man, was proclaimed in the ears of
Israel. The trump of the archangel, whatever else it
be, must be a summons that shall be heard by innumerable beings; one that shall echo, like a thousand thunders, through this visible- universe. An archangel may
utter such a summons by means which, could they be
named, might be regarded as sudden and tremendous
operations of nature; for what are all such but effects
proceeding from causes which lie behind, in the hands
of angels and of the Lord of angels?
The word of God covers these mighty events with
an awful indistinctness; the characteristic, from necessity, of all which connects the finite with the infinite.
At one time, it is the: voice of the archangel, which
seems to ring in our ears; at another, the voice of
Christ, at which, like Lazarus of old, the dead come
forth from their graves. c"The sea gives up the dead
which are in it; and death and hell deliver up the dead
which are in them;" body and soul are united; wher



THE LAST ENEMY.               317
ever the seed of the immortal body may have fallen,
wherever the spirit may have had its unseen abode.
Of all the dead, ", the dead in Christ shall rise first:"
", Christ the first-fruits, afterward they that are Christ's
at His coming: then cometh the end.'.' They are named
first in all the descriptions of the resurrection and the
judgment; and it is declared that the saints shall judge
the world, and that the apostles shall sit upon twelve
thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.  For, He
shall sit upon the throne of His glory;-and before Him
shall be gathered all nations of the quick and dead. To
gather them, too, He will send His angels, whose office
it especially is, to gather together His elect from the
uttermost part of earth to the uttermost part of heaven.
They are the reapers, who separate the tares from:the
wheat in that great harvest.
Then, those whQ were mingled on earth must be for
ever divided;- and when the righteous shall have been
welcomed by their Judge and Saviour to His- kingdom,
the wicked also shall hear their sentence.  The scene
of the universal judgment would seem to be upon the
earth; possibly on a vast valley or plain, which, if literal, is fast by the walls -of Jerusalem; and, if symbolical, has its name, ", the -valley of Jehoshaphat," "t the
-valley of divine judgment," from the events of that
day.
Divided, as the, sheep and the goats, the righteous'first, and then the wicked, shall be judged according to
the deeds done here in the body.  Their Judge is the
Son of man: "c Him hath God ordained;" and by Him
",the dead are judged out of those things which are
written in the books, according to their works:" ", And
another book is opened, which is' the book of life," in
which are written the names of all the final heirs of
27*




3188            THE. LAST ENEMY.
salvation.  A book may be a figure; but it can be a
figure of nothing but a record; and this record is one in
which every idle word, and every cup of cold water
given in the name of Christ, is accurately preserved.
". There is nothing covered, that shall not be revealed."
They whose names: are in the book of life, the penitent, the believing, the renewed in soul, the diligent in
well-doing, are recognised as washed from their sins
through the blood of the atonement, and as-sanctified
by the Holy Spirit.  They are acquitted for Christ's
sake; and the good which they have done receives the
recompense which their Lord had promised. They become, as it were, assessors with Him  while the more
fearful portion of the judgment is transacted.  The
wicked also. of all.ages are gathered in one mighty multitude, and await and receive their doom.
There, on one side, are patriarchs, prophets, pure
priests, and righteous kings, and holy apostles, and a
noble army of martyrs; true confessors, patient sufferers, pious champions, venerable recluses, faithful matrons, constant wives, devoted Virgins, fervent preachers, diligent teachers, earpest writers, watchful pastors,
honest men, upright servants, dutiful children, innocent
babes without number, generous bestowers, energetic
lovers of their fellow-men, humble men of prayer, conscientious labourers in every private sphere of duty, last
who were first, and first who were last; the sower and
the reaper, the example and they who -followed- the example, whole families and companies who had journeyed
together; and those who had stood alone, "'faithful
found among the faithless."  There, on the other side,
are murderers, and liars, the abominable and the bloody,
tyrants and robbers, and adulterers, and extortioners,
the drunkard, and the reveller, and the blasphemer, the




THE LAST ENEMY.               319
ravisher, the pirate, the manstealer, the parricide, the
bold unbeliever, the false priest, the remorseless persecutor, all that lived to themselves only, all that forgot'
God, the hypocrite, the proud and hard-hearted, the
corrupteir and the corrupted, they who sinned always
against the Holy Spirit, and they who began well and
turned back to perdition.  From him who made the
pyramid his tomb to him whose bones were torn bare
by the wild beasts of the desert, from those who slept
with their fathers under the eaves of the, village church
to those who were floated too and fro,
"Full many a score fathom, down deep in the main;"
all have appeared again, to part no more, or to part for
ever.
The separation of the Judge parts them for ever, or
for ever unites them; and to Him the righteous come,
and from Him the wicked go away. Those who shall
be for ever with Him are caught up together, to meet
the Lord in the air. The wicked are cast into that lake
of fire, which is the second death; that bottomless pit,
Where is weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth.
In what part of the universe lie these awful abodes, it
may be in vain to conjecture. But it is certain that
then, from the bosom of the earth, the flames so long
hidden under its volcanoes must burst forth; and the
heavens and the earth that are now must pass away
with a great noise, and the elements must melt with
fervent heat.  Fire is the predicted agency; and fire
lies waiting in all the secret chambers of nature.  The
elements, the atmosphere which enwraps thee earth, and
forms its' firmament, or lower heavens, are subject to
this agency; and they shall pass, with a tremendous
shock and explosion, while under the same mighty
agency, the solid globe is transformed.




THE LAST ENEMY.              320
Then, the new heavens and the new earth appear, for
which we wait according to His promise. In that lake
of fire, death and hell are swallowed up for ever. The
corruptible has put on incorruption; the mortal' immortality; the last enemy is destroyed; there is no
more death.




THE LAST ENEMY.                 321
LXVIII.
"Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where- peace
And rest can never dwell, hope never comes
That comes to all."
MILTON.
BUT beyond, there remains the second death; and
they who would wisely contemplate the end of. man
must not shrink from  sending on their eyes as far as
any beams of present light from heaven may penetrate
the darkness of hell. The most terrible of all that is
feared in death, is its power to lead to everlasting
punishment.  He who would so look on death that he
shall see at last the face of a friend, must learn to look
first on death as it can be, to those'for whom  Christ
died in vain.  The path to eternal peace must pass
within sight of the tremendous portals from which all
hope is banished for ever.
A  soul -which is not'saved must be lost.  A  soul
which is not by some means purified can but proceed
ever onward in iniquity, and therefore in misery. But
not only are' no means known to us, through which it
can be purified after rejecting the Holy Spirit in this
life, but it is also distinctly declared that no other
means remain, in this life or in the life to come. Were
but the Spirit withdrawn from this world, this world
would soon be an image of what must be beyond the




822              THE LAST ENE11Y.
grave of the wicked, and beyond the resurrection to
damnation. Sin, perpetually renewed, and never counteracted, must create perpetual woe; and, in the dominions of a righteous Sovereign, the outward condition
will answer to the inward.
The state into which the wicked shall in the last day
depart, is "c everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and
his angels."  Those angels ",are reserved in everlasting chains, under darkness, unto the judgment of the
great day;" for that day decides not the doomn  of
men alone.  The place is called cc the valley of Hinnom," " where the worm dieth not, and the fire is not
quenched."  It is called, too, ", the lake of fire and
brimstone, where the devil, with the beast and the false
prophet, shall be tormented day and night for ever and
ever." It is called in parables, outer darkness, as if
without the joyful palace of the Great King; and from
that darkness are heard the sounds of weeping and
wailing. In parables, too, it is likened to the sentence
on him who is delivered to the tormentors, or him who
is sawn-asunder, or him who is cast, into prison till he
shall pay the uttermost farthing.
All which is thus told is little; but all speaks in one
deep and solemn tone; atone which can at times alarm
and affright every human spirit. No sorrow is more
mournful than that of exclusion from joys which we
behold from far; and they who- shall be cast out from
the kingdom of heaven shall see Abraham and all the
faithful, entering into the inheritance which themselves
have lost.  No restraint is more galling than that of
the strong prison; and theirs is a prison from which
there is not even the most distant hope of release. No
pains- are more terrible than those with which oriental




THE LAST ENEMY.              323
princes have avenged themselves on crime; and with
these are compared the pains of the condemned hereafter.- -No power in nature inflicts such torture as fire,
and fire is the chosen and usual figure of their punishment. -No object is more loathsome than the worm
that feeds on the corruption of the corpse, and theirs
is a worm that dieth not.  No society can be so horrid
as that of those towards whom- there can be no confidence or love, nothing but utter abhorrence, dread, and
scorn; and theirs is the place prepared for those evil
spirits of whom all that we know is that they hate, and
that, with all'their present power, they are degraded
below; every human conception of vileness and of more
than brutality.
But -what we do not know may fill us with even
deeper awe than all that is within our knowledge.
Eternity, though but one vast word, embraces innumerable events, stupendous-histories, and an infinite progress. Begun without hope or love, what can it, or
what can it not, disclose as its cycles pursue their
course!  It is a mystery of mysteries that, in the dominions of God, that dark and dreadful region should
continue to exist, where all is evil and only evil.
Enough if from these shores of time we behold it with
a glance of boundless dread-and horror, and turn away,
fixing our eyes with steadfast determination on the-safe
mountains of the land above.
One alleviating whisper is blended even with those
most awful denunciations which reveal these depths of
despair.  There are those who shall be beaten with
few stripes, as well as those who shall be beaten with
many. It shall be more tolerable in the judgment for
one race of transgressors than for another, for Tyre




324             THE LAST ENEMY.
and Sidon than for the Galilean -hearers and rejectors
of Jesus. Where degrees of suffering exist, the cup of
all is no't alike intense in its bitterness.  This is the
single soothing thought which has been breathed from
heaven into our meditations on the final world of woe
beyond the second death.




LXIX.
(Mterual gift
"I will tell thee even more,
Ten thousand years from now; if but with the.
I too reach heaven, and with new language there,
When' an eternity of bliss/has gone,
Bless God for new eternities to be."
COXE.
DEATH leads the just through the intermediate Paradise, through the joyful reunion of the resurrection,
and through the blessed award of the last day, to all
which we are taught to name most fully heaven and
the life eternal.  This is the dazzling consummation of
all hopes; the manifestation for which the earnest expectation of the whole creation waits and longs, and
death, as
"' the path which must be trod
If man would ever pass to God,"
is welcome to the feet of those who,, in the confidence
of a certain'faith, and the comfort of a reasonable,
religious, and holy hope," look on to this close of all.
The divine oracles exhaust the imagery of earthly
joys and splendours and glories, to afford inspiring
glimpses of heaven.  There shine the gates, the walls,
the domes, the pinnacles of a celestial city: its battlements are jasper, its pavements are gold, its foundatons are jewels, its portals are pearls.  Within flows;lle pure river of the water of life; and fast by it
28                (325)




326              THE LAST ENEMY.
grows the tree, whose leaves are for the healing of the
nations.  The ransomed are there, with songs, with
harps, with crowns, with palms, with spotless, resplendent robes; they shine as the stars and as the brightness of the firmament; they go in to the marriagesupper; they are placed over cities and peoples; they
sit with the Lord in His throne; they rest in the peace
of an everlasting Sabbath.
Figures have no value except as they express realities; and the figures which the Holy Spirit has employed must be the nearest and truest'of all possible
expressions, even though the realities be both unseen
and inconceivable.  Therefore, the simple mind which
reposes entirely in the figures, and imagines heaven as
merely such a scene, is in no error, except that it thinkis
as a child, and sees through a glass darkly; and it is
less in danger of delusion than the stronger intellect
which casts the figure, and with it the reality, entirely
away.
But all is not spoken in figures.  The state of the
blessed is always described as one where those shall
rejoice.together, who together have laboured here.
Their reward shall be according to their works; and in
that kingdom there shall be least and greatest.  The
reward is enhanced by all those works of love, which
lay up in store a good foundation against the time to
come, a treasure in heaven; and by all sufferings patiently endured for the sake of righteousness. Its delight consists much in the immediate presence of the
Lord of glory, and in the perfect: enjoyment of His
love.  The mourners are comforted; the meek inherit
the earth: the pure in heart see God.
With even more distinctness, it is told us that, though
"it doth not -yet appear what we shall be," yet, ", when




THE LAST ENEMY.               327
He-shall appear, we shall be like Him, for we shall see
Him as he is.".   So shall we ever be with the Lord;"
with whom to be "c is far better" than all beside. That
nearness to the Lord incarnate, that presence with the
Son, even after He also shall Himself be "c subject unto
tHim that put all things under Him, that God may be
all in all," can now be no further comprehended- than
as we know that God is in Christ, that God is love, and
that therefore to be with Him is to be in perfect love,
which is perfect joy. To be with a dear friend and
benefactor, with one who is worthy of much love, must
always be a high happiness.  But in heaven the redeemed are with Him who is, worthy to receive power
and riches and wisdom and strength and honour and
glory and blessing." All love Him who loved them,
and redeemed them with His blood;. and therefore their
voices are lifted to a strain of rapture unspeakable and
full of glory.
They are, come; too, to the spirits of just men
made perfect."  Heaven has been assembling to itself,
through all the ages, whatever of true wisdom, virtue,
and excellence had been seen and admired below. The
fellowship of heart with heart, and mind with mind, is,
as we feel, something that should be immortal; something, than which there is nothing deeper in our being
except its foundation in its Creator.  That fellowship
is perfect where, out of every kindred and tongue and
peopledand nation, from every age and every dispensation, no longer exposed to the divisions, the misunderstandings, and the weaknesses of this world, every barrier removed and every fault purified, while the whole
government of a Providence, from first to last, shines
in the light of its own manifest wisdom, and can no
longer be mistaken, the righteous behold with one




328             THE LAST ENEMY.
another the wonderful works of God,' and learn, and
adore, and in all the depths.of their desire, and. the
height of their powers, are satisfied.
That we shall see our Lord "c as He is," that we shall
44 see face to face"' is promised in contrast with our
present ignorance and its dim and -discoloured vision.
It is a joy of which we have -intimations here, in all
that brings us near to God, or that enables to behold
HIis footsteps in His earthly ways; in all true wisdom
and knowledge, in study and contemplation and worship. These foretastes can but intimate, like all earthly
enjoyments, mingled as theyare, the inherent capacities of the soul: the rest is left for the land of fruition.
But though now we see but through a glass, this earth
has things that are made after the pattern of heavenly
things, such as Moses saw in the mount. The ordinances of the Jewish covenant had such a resemblance:
such a resemblance, and more than resemblance, must
there be in the ordinances of Christ; and such, we
may well believe, is this great temple of nature in
which ",are clearly seen the' eternal power and Godhead."  To the heavenly world sanctified hearts must
carry their affections, and doubtless some of their employments. When our Lord -sat at His last supper, He
said,,c I will not drink henceforth of this fruit of the
vine, until that day when I drink it new with you in
my Father's kingdom." He surely pointed forward to
some scene of holy joy from which they might point back
to that sacramental feast, and recognise the unity of the.
cup on earth with the cup above. It is hard to avoid
believing that the charm of consecrated music, so subtle, so spiritual, so linked from the beginning and in its
very nature, with worship and praiise, and so mingled
with the loftiest descriptions of the occupations of hea



TH E LAST ENEMY.              329
Yen, is really to be there prolonged. Of heaven an
excellent writer has said that we only know two things
which are there, holy love and holy music; and another
has'remarked that ", it may be boldly assumed that
nothing in the whole compass of nature bears so near
a resemblance as music to the celestial mode of thanks-,giving." IBut probably we know many more elements
of joy, which here are in their infancy, and there shall
be mature; which here are dim, and there henceforth
in perfect radiancy.
"c They neither marry, indeed, nor are given in marriage:" the relations of earth are preserved in memory
and in affection, but have ceased to be actual, with the
necessities of a state like this.  The ties, if such there
shall -be, which shall correspond with those that now
bind us in families, orders, and commonwealths, can no
more be now imagined by us than the scenery of the
new heavens and earth themselves. Yet the very names
of earth and heavens, of a kingdom, cities, mansions,
suggest and signify something that is more like what
they express on earth than like any thing which bears
a different name, unconsecrated by such applications.
The angels are the highest, noblest, holiest beings
who have ever been disclosed to human thought, below
the everlasting throne.  In, that angelic name all purity
and loveliness, all dignity and might, all fervour and
energy, all obedience and favour and joy, are represented to the soaring conception. The wings of the
morning, the white robes of peace, the glow of celestial love, the glory of superhuman intellect, the ministry of perfect benevolence, the impossibility of death,
the unfailing, unfaltering fulfilment of that will which
is the life of all that live, these are with the angels,
28*




830            THE LAST ENEMY.
and with those who die and rise, to be made equal to
the angels, and like the Son of God.
So may God grant to such as, through these pages,
have traced the triumph of death, and the triumph
over death, that, " through the grave and gate of death
they may pass to their joyful resurrection, for His merits
who died, and was buried, and rose again for us, His Son
Jesus Christ our Lord.'HE END.




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A  List of Books from  which a selection can be made suitable for,family, parish, and Sunday-school Libraries. A liberal reduction from
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Andrews, Bp., Devotions.  Various edit.   -    Remains of.
A Kempis, Thomas, Imitation of Christ. -    Memoirs of Newton.
Various editions.                Chapin, Rev. A., Primitive Church.
Arnold, Thomas, D.D., Rugby School Ser- Chapman, Rev. Dr., Sermon  on the
mons. 18mo.                            Church.
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Anglican Ordination, Essays on.        Churchman Armed. By Palmer and HoBarrow on the Pope's Supremacy. 8vo.        bart.
Baxter, Saint's Rest. Various editions.   Churton, Rev. E., The Early English
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Blunt's, Rev. Henry, Lectures on the Life  Charnack on Divine Providence.
of Christ.                       Cooke, Dr. J. E., -Presbyterian Ordination
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ticles.                          Churchman, The Reasons for his Faith
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Testaments. 8vo.                 -   Recognition of Friends.
Bradley, Rev. Chas., Family and Parish  -    History of a Pocket Prayer-Book.
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Brownwell's, Bishop, Commentary on the  Duy, Rev. Samuel, Sermon and Remains.
Book of Common Prayer. 8vo.      Dixon and Smith, on the Catechism.
Bowden, Rev. John, D. D., on Episoopacy. East, Rev. John, My Saviour; or, Medita2 vols.                         5      tion on the Names and Titles of
Bridges, Rev. Chas., on the Ministry.        Christ.
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On 119th Psalm.          -       I      of his Wife.
Burnet on the Thirty-nine Articles.    Episcopal Tracts of the Diocese of Massa-   History of the Reformation.              chusetts.
Burton, Rev. Dr., History of the Church.  Eusebius's - Ecclesiastical History.  By
Butler's, Analogy of Religion. Various       Cruse.
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Burder's Village Sermons. 8vo.         Evans's Rectory of Valehead.
Buds, Blossoms, and Fruits of the Chutrch. Faber, Rev. George Stanley, On Election.
Bickersteth's Questions on the Thirty-nine   -  on Romanism.
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Daily Scripture Readings.        --   Sermons on Prophecy.
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Goode's Better Covenant.               Kip, Wm. J., Christmas Holidays in Rome.
Good Samaritan; or, The Sick Man's  -   Early Conflicts of Christianity.
Friend.                          -   Double Witness.
Godolphin, Mrs., Life of. By Evelyn.   -   The Lenten Fast.
Gaussin, on Plenary Inspiration of the  -   Recantation; or, the Confession of a
Scriptures.                            Roman Convert.
Graham, Mrs. Isabella, Memoir of.      -   Early Jesuit Missions.
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Gregory, Dr. Olinthus, Letters on the Evi- Keith's Evidence of Prophecy., 12mo.'
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Griswold, Bp. of Massachusetts. Memoir M'Cullock, Rev. Dr., The Dead in Christ.
of his Life. By Rev. Dr. Stone.  M'Ilvaine, Bp., Evidences of Christianity.
Hamilton's Harp on the Willows.        Moberly, Rev. Geo., Sayings of the Great
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Hill, Rev. Rowland, Village Dialogues. -    The True Catholic no Romanist.
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Memoir of.                              Church.
Hook,' Rev. W. F., The Cross of Christ.    -   On Lay Baptism.
Hooker, Richard. Whole Works. 2 vols.  Paget, Rev. F. E., Sermons on the Duties
With Selections. By Keble.                   of Daily Life.
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Hymns for Little Children. Just pub- Sewell, Rev. Wm. Christian Morals.
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Sewell, Miss, Amy Herbert.            -   Memoir of, by Bird Wilson.
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Walter Lorimer.                   -   Rev. Hugh, on Prayer.
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