(_Sermon preached on the Sunday after the death of
President Harrison._)
ii. 22. _Cease ye from man, whose breath is in his
nostrils: for wherein is he to be accounted of?_
The event which has just befallen us as a nation is fitted to
teach--+I. The vanity of human dependence.+ The atheism of the human
heart displays itself in a disposition to confide entirely in an arm
of flesh. This is so in the family, the church, the nation. In
various ways God endeavours to teach nations their real dependence
upon Himself--by famine, by pestilence, by commercial disasters, by
the death of their rulers. What "fools" we must be, and how "brutish"
must be our understanding, if we do not lay to heart the lesson which
He has now given us (Ps. cxlvi. 3). +II. The pettiness of party
strife.+ How much of selfishness, unkindness, anger, and
untruthfulness does the spirit of party give birth to! How seldom
politicians of opposite parties do each other common justice! How
fierce are their rivalries! But how mean, how worthless, how unworthy
appear the objects of their strife when death enters the arenas and
waves his skeleton arm! What a great calm falls upon the agitated
spirits of men! How noise is hushed and excitement subdued! How like
do the flushed and eager politicians seem then to silly children
quarrelling for the possession of a bubble that has just been blown
into the air, and that will disappear the moment it is grasped![1]
+III. The vanity of the world, the certainty of death, and the
nearness of eternity.+ These lessons are _taught_ when a beggar dies,
but are more likely to be _laid to heart_ when a prince is laid
low.[2] +IV. The supreme importance of a right moral character.+ Most
instructive is the interest felt by survivors in the moral character
of the departed, in the evidences of his preparation for death, in
the manner in which the great summons affected him. This is the
testimony of the human conscience, that in comparison with a fitness
to appear before the tribunal of God, everything else loses its
importance. When was the amount of a man's _possessions_ inscribed on
his tombstone? The bare suggestion of such a thing would be construed
as a mockery of death, under whose denuding hand the rich man leaves
the world naked as he entered it. But if, in all his life, there was
one virtue in his moral character, one trait which can afford
satisfactory evidence of God's approval, this, be sure, you will find
sculptured in conspicuous characters on his monumental marble. One
thing alone can prepare any for their last account--the belief and
practice of the Gospel of God. Have _you_ the great calm which is
inspired by the confidence of being prepared for the great
change?--_W. Adams, American National Preacher,_ xv. 97-105.