Chapter III.
The Present Condition of the Departed.

There is a natural desire in the mind of man to know some­thing of the present condition of those whom death has taken away. We long to ascertain whether they are in happiness or misery, and would fondly picture to ourselves their habitation and their employment. When the object of tender affection has been removed from our sight; when the tearful eye rests on his empty seat; when dark perplexities and heavy cares make us painfully feel the want of his counsel and helping hand, our thoughts naturally turn to the state of the dead, and lead us almost unconsciously to ask,—Where is he whom we so loved? Does he, who was the object of our warm affection, enjoy blessedness, or is he suffering wo? Is his active spirit now engaged in new and congenial pursuits? Is he cognizant of the events that occupy his sorrowing friends? Does he ever revisit unseen this earthly scene of pilgrimage; or does he dwell afar, with a gulf impassable between him and the world below?

But however anxious we may be to look beyond the veil which death draws over our sight, Reason is altogether unable to penetrate the gloom, and Scripture says but little of the present condition of the dead. Of their natural constitution, their employment, and the place of their abode, the information given us is so brief, and so indistinct, that any speculation on these subjects would be altogether vain. The only circumstances in regard to the departed that can be fully relied on, are embodied in the four following particulars:—Their bodies return to the dust;—the souls of the converted are blessed, in being made perfectly holy, and admitted into the presence of Christ;—the souls of the unconverted are miserable, being wholly given over to sin, and cut off from God and from hope;—and the state of the departed admits of no falling away on the one hand, and of no repentance on the other.

The bodies of the departed return to the dust.—The original sentence passed upon man in reference to his bodily frame, continues unmitigated and unchanged: "In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken; for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return."

When the spirit departs, activity, vigour, and feeling are gone. The strongest limb no longer moves, the brightest eye becomes dim, and the keenest sensibility gives place to utter unconsciousness. The beautiful form on which affection so tenderly rested, on which a multitude of admirers gazed with delight, is stiffened and pale, and speedily becomes ghastly and loathsome. And however tenderly the lifeless clay may at one time have been regarded, the sorrowing relatives are constrained, like Abraham of old, to "bury their dead out of their sight." The limbs that were arrayed in purple and decked with gold, the mortal remains of the mighty on earth, who spoke in their pride as if they were equal with God, become, like the putrefying carcase of the beast of the field, a repast for the worm. The occupant of the throne and the inmate of the cottage, rest alike in the dust, and must say to corruption, "Thou art our father, and to the worm, Thou art our mother and our sister." Such is the end of earthly glory! Such is the termination of the brightest temporal career! Though a man should conquer many nations, and should say of his city and kingdom, "Is not this great Babylon that I have built by the night of my power, and for the honour of my majesty?" though he should gather up riches as the sand on the sea-shore, and roll himself in gold; though he should make the learning of ancient ages his own, and explore the deepest mysteries that modern science has disclosed;—yet such is the end of his earthly career. All that wealth can purchase, all that science can unfold, cannot avert the irrevocable doom; and the path of glory only leads him to the tomb.

Scripture, however, informs us that there shall be "a resurrection of the dead, both of the just and the unjust." "If we believe," says the Apostle, "that Jesus died and rose again, even so those also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. The dead in Christ shall rise first," (1 Thess. iv. 14.) The dust of the departed may thus be regarded as remaining under the guardian care of Christ. How the scattered remains are to be gathered together again, and with what bodies they shall arise, the sacred record does not reveal. He who at first created them can also renew them; and if he sees it meet that the same material elements that were laid in the grave shall be clothed in immortality, we may not doubt his power to recall then together, though they may have been scattered to all the winds of heaven. There are many curious questions connected with this subject, into which our philosophy would vainly pry; but the Lord has not seen meet to make them known; any speculation in regard to them, therefore, is vain. Our inquiries cannot be answered till that day shall arrive which the Apostle saw in his vision, when "the sea gave up the dead which were in it, and death and the grave delivered up the dead which were in them, and they were judged, every man according to his works."

The souls of the converted are blessed in being made perfectly holy, and in being admitted into the presence of Christ.—That the souls of the departed live after the body is consigned to the grave, has been the almost universal belief of mankind. The evidences on which this persuasion rests were formerly made the subject of investigation, it is therefore unnecessary to allude to them again. In the Old Testament there are not many references to the condition of the departed. One of the most explicit is that which we find in Ecclesiastes xii. 7: "Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was, and the spirit shall return to God who gave it." In almost every page of the New Testament we discover passages in which "life and immortality are brought to light;" and there are many texts which plainly intimate that at death the souls of believers enter into the joy of their Lord. There is however, but little made known in regard to the manner in which their blessedness is imparted.

When we consider the nature of the change which takes place in conversion, it is, we may say, self-evident that at death believers are perfected in holiness, and must consequently partake of all the bliss which holiness imparts. At conversion, the evil emotions are removed from the soul, and holy desires are implanted. In so far as regards the soul, the believer may therefore be spoken of as pure. "Whosoever," says St. John, "is born of God, doth not commit sin, for his seed remaineth in him, and he cannot sin, because he is born of God." The truly converted man, in so far as he is born of God and renewed after the image of him that created him, that is, in respect to the desires and affections of his rational nature, is free from sin. In consequence of the strength and depravity of the fleshly desires with which it is allied, the soul is led into transgression; but this is not the result of its own free will and deliberate choice. The Apostle therefore argues, "If then I do that which I would not, it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me. The good that I would I do not; but the evil which I would not that I do. Now if I do that I would not, it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me." The renewed spirit longs for perfect purity, and desires to wing its flight to the throne on high; but the corrupt affections of the animal nature, to which it is united, draw it down to the earth, and cast it into the mire of sin. This degradation of the nobler part of man, the fruit and consequence of its connexion with the animal frame, necessarily terminates at death. And when the earthly house of this tabernacle is dissolved, the believer, freed from the corrupt lusts of the flesh, delights himself in God, loving him "with all the heart, and soul, and strength, and mind," and enjoying the blessedness which such exalted devotion necessarily implies.

It is in this sense that the Apostle speaks of the "spirits of just men made perfect," (Heb. xii. 23.) Believers at their death are made perfect in holiness, and in the joys which it produces; but they are not made perfect in the blessedness promised to them till the soul and body have been reunited, and they have been openly acknowledged and acquitted in the day of judgment. (Heb. xi. 40.)

This perfection in holiness fits them for that close communion with the Lord, which is more especially spoken of as the peculiar privilege of the departed saint. In almost every passage in which the happiness of the departed believer is spoken of, we find special reference made to his being with the Lord. When the thief on the cross confessed his belief, and prayed the Saviour to remember him when he came into his kingdom, Jesus' answer was, "Today shalt thou be with me in paradise." The only circumstance in regard to the enjoyment before him, to which the Redeemer alluded, was fellowship with himself, "Thou shalt be with me;" plainly intimating, that we must regard nearness and freedom of approach to Christ, as the special and distinguishing privilege of his people during their intermediate state. To the same effect Paul says, "We know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." But the only peculiarity of the dwelling which he specifies is nearness to the Saviour: "We are willing," he goes on to say, "rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord," (2 Cor. v. 1-8.) In his Epistle to the Philippians, (chap. i. 23,) he says, "I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ, which is far better." Here, again, the being with Christ is the one object which he sets before him.

Whether "the paradise," or "third heaven," to which the Apostle was taken up in "vision and revelation of the Lord," (2 Cor. xii. 4,) be the same as that promised to the penitent thief, we cannot tell. There Paul heard "unspeakable words, which it is not lawful for a man to utter;" there, it would seem, a scene of indescribable glory burst on his view; but what its glories and joys were, and what share the souls of the departed have in them, has not been revealed. All that is clearly taught us in Scripture with respect to the condition of those who die in the faith, is, that they are perfected in holiness, and that they now are, and for ever shall be, "with the Lord."

This, however, is enough. This is all in all to those who are made to understand the joy that springs from devotion to God, and communion with him. "With the Lord!"—the expression implies a peculiar closeness of intercourse, and a fulness of knowledge, contrasted with which their present condition is a state of darkness and of absence. "In this," says St. Paul, "we groan; whilst we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord." The Lord is ever near to his people. The promise never fails which says, "I am with you alway, even to the end of the world." And many an hour of sweet and holy communion with the Saviour the Apostle must have enjoyed, before he could say, "To me to live is Christ;" but compared to the fulness of the revelation to be afterwards made, and to the nearness of approach which shall be permitted to the saint after death, the nearest and most intimate fellowship enjoyed on earth is spoken of as "absence from the Lord."

The closeness of intercourse and union with Christ which is permitted to departed saints, is strikingly intimated in the Apocalyptic vision. The Apostle saw in the midst of the throne, and round about the throne, the "four living ones, and the four-and-twenty elders." That these are the representatives of the Church of the redeemed above, is proved by their singing their song of praise to Him who had "redeemed them to God by his blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation." The position which they occupy, "in the midst of the throne," and "round about the throne," whatever else the expressions may indicate, evidently intimate that the closeness of their union with the Lord must be peculiarly blissful and glorious.

We may, therefore, with all confidence conclude, that beholding the brightness of the Saviour's glory, and being "like him, because they shall see him as he is," the souls of believers shall, at their death, be immediately admitted to an inexpressibly great reward. Freed from suffering and from weakness, from toil and vexation, from temptation and from sin; filled to over­flowing with devotion to their Redeemer, and beholding continually the smiles of his countenance, believers will find their cup of bliss running over. The paradise to which they shall be admitted is, we may presume, in itself, an abode of beauty and of brightness; but, were it barren and rugged as the stony desert, dark and gloomy as the loathsome tomb, when illuminated by the beams of the Sun of Righteousness, it must be resplendent with all that is lovely and glorious. It is, we are assured, the dwelling of peace; but were it a scene of pain, like the furnace heated seven times, the perfected saint would rather walk through the midst of the burning fiery furnace in company with the Redeemer, than dwell without him in a paradise blooming with delight.

All their joy, moreover, is heightened by the assurance that it shall never pass away. Though the earth and the elements shall melt in the flame, and the heavens shall be rolled together as a scroll, the unchanging promise standeth sure, and the God of truth hath declared that they shall be "for ever with the Lord.''

The souls of the unconverted are miserable, being wholly given over to sin, and cut off from God and from hope.—We are told of Judas, that "he went to his own place;" and that it had been good for him that "he had never been born." In the parable of the rich man and Lazarus, we are told that the rich man "in hades," that is, in the place of departed spirits, not in gehenna, the place of final punishment, "lifted up his eyes, being in torments." We are not entitled to give to every statement in a parable its strict and literal meaning, but the general doctrine taught in this passage very plainly intimates, that the unconverted at death depart to a place of wo.

The nature of the punishment assigned to them is nowhere described in the sacred record. We are left to infer it from a consideration of the spiritual condition into which they are brought, and from the relation in which they stand to their offended God.

Sin, we have every reason to believe, reigns in them without control. While they are on earth, the restraining grace of the Holy Spirit prevents the evil affections from exerting their full influence upon them; but when death has put an end to the allotted time of probation, the Spirit strives no more, but leaves them unrestrained to follow the dictates of their own corrupt will. The animal affections being buried in the dust, along with the bodily frame, the only motive that remains to actuate them is the spirit of enmity to God. In every respect, therefore, excepting with regard to the limited extent of their powers, they resemble Satan and his angels. This of necessity implies a great and terrible misery. To hate God, and at the same time see all his counsels prosper; to hate God, and yet feel themselves entirely in his power; to hate the people of the Lord, and yet behold them in bliss, must awaken so many tormenting emotions in the bosom, that it may well be termed a hell within them.

At the same time, they are cut off from God and from hope. They have forfeited all claim to his favour, they have incurred his wrath; and though there may be no direct infliction of judgment, they know that their doom is sealed, and that the day of resurrection will be to them a day of condemnation, of aggravated and endless wo. When they look back, and think of the mercies they have despised, and of the gracious invitations they have scorned, their souls will be racked with vain desires to recall the days that have past to return no more;—when they look forward to eternal sufferings, when they think of what they are, and of what they might have been if they had not rejected the gospel, remorse, the worm that never dies, will prey on them with his relentless fang;—while a dread of Jehovah's displeasure, and a consciousness that their doom is deserved, will hang, like the thunder-cloud of vengeance, continually over them, and envelop them in the utter darkness of hopeless despair.

The state of the departed admits of no falling away on the one hand, and of no repentance on the other.—When a soul has been converted and renewed, and the temptations to sin, which were presented by a corrupt nature and an ensnaring world, have been taken away, we cannot conceive it possible that there should be ever any falling again. The believer has learned but too well, by his own painful experience, the nature and consequences of sin, to listen any more to the voice of the tempter, even if Satan were permitted to approach him;—and Satan tempts him no more.

We are also distinctly told, "that his seed remaineth in him," that "they who sleep in Jesus shall God bring with him," that on those whose names are written in the Lamb's book of life, "the second death hath no power." The Saviour also says, "Of them which thou gavest me have I lost none;" and the Apostle triumphs in the thought, that Jesus is "able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day."

They rest in peace and in hope. No fear of falling disturbs their repose, no dread of reprobation clouds their views. They rejoice in the assurance, that heaven is begun within them, and they know that the fulness of bliss shall be theirs. They are present with the Lord, and triumph in the thought, that as there is now no condemnation to them who are in Christ Jesus, so hereafter there shall be no separation. With Paul they can say, "In all things we are more than conquerors, through him that loved us. Neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

On the other hand, there is no repentance granted to those who die unconverted.

The Church of Rome, with that unscrupulous shrewdness which characterizes her money-making policy, has taken advantage of the fond affection with which the mind follows those that have departed to the world of spirits, and by the fiction of purgatory, and the impudent assertion that her masses can benefit the souls of the dead, has filled her polluted coffers with the offerings of her dupes. The utter groundlessness of her impious dogma may very easily be shewn. If, as her deluding priesthood have asserted, there is repentance in the grave, if deathbed alms can purchase masses to atone for present neglect of the offered salvation, the natural conclusion is, let us enjoy the pleasures of sense and sin while they are in our power, and leave our repentance to the grave; but the uniform tenor of Scripture declares, that "now is the accepted time, that now is the day of salvation." From the hour when John the Baptist began to preach, saying, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand," till the period when the Apostle, in closing the canon of Scripture, addresses to all the solemn warning, "The time is at hand: he that is unjust, let him be unjust still; and he that is filthy, let him be filthy still; and he that is righteous, let him be righteous still; and he that is holy, let him be holy still," the Saviour and his apostles continue to repeat, in varied terms, the intimation, that in the present state alone, redemption is to be found.

If this had not been the case, there must have been some indication of a future state of trial. We cannot conceive it possible, that man should have been left in ignorance in regard to a matter of such importance. But there is no reference in the word of God to any future opportunity of escaping from wrath.

We are told, that in the judgment every man is to be tried according to his works. But death is spoken of by the Saviour as the night "in which no man can work;" and we are told, in the book of Ecclesiastes, that "there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave." The work which concerns our salvation can only be wrought while life remains. Whatever employment may occupy the spirits of the departed, the works on which the bliss or wo of eternity depends must be perfected here.

In the Apostle's account of the great day of reckoning, he says, "We must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ, that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad." (2 Cor. v. 10.) If it is according to the things done in the body that we are to be judged, the repentance of the soul, after it has left the body, even if that were possible, cannot, therefore, avert the sinner's doom.

In the parable we before referred to, the rich man is represented as pleading for a single drop of water to cool his tongue. But Abraham says, "Son, remember that thou, in thy lifetime, receivedst thy good things." This answer was given immediately after his death, to a man who is not charged with having committed any gross offence, according to the judgment of men; it was given to a man who humbled himself, and earnestly sought for the very slightest alleviation of his pain. Even to him, however, it was intimated, that all his good things had already been given, and that for the future none could be bestowed; and, then, to close up every avenue of hope, it was added, "And beside all this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed, so that they which would pass from hence to you cannot, neither can they pass to us that would come from thence." The lesson taught in the parable sufficiently confirms the truth elsewhere declared, that there is no hope in the grave for those who die "in their sins."

It is therefore evident, that the state of the departed admits of no falling away on the one hand, and of no repentance on the other.

As death leaves the children of men, the judgment will find them. The present fleeting hour determines their condition. throughout the ages of a vast eternity! The choice which they now make secures their endless bliss, or leads to endless wo! The door of mercy stands wide open,—all are invited to enter; but they must enter now, or never. When the door is closed, they may knock, they may call, with bitter tears and cries of anguish they may entreat, but it can open no more. It is closed against them,—and closed for ever!