The curtain falls, and all is over. My friends, we must not attempt to die with a human guess as our pillow. Let not death be a star sinking into the darkness of the night, but let it be a faith in the living Christ which changes the blackness of death into the morning star which is itself lost in the view of the brightness of God's eternal day. In that faith, death will be a release like the breaking of a chain, the close of a long confinement, and the opening of a prison door. The Thracians wept whenever a child was born, and feasted whenever a man went out of the world, and with reason.
Death touches only the body.
As the spirit becomes disengaged, the body falls into ruin. There is a spiritual death more terrible than physical death. We see the crepe fluttering at the door, here and there, as we walk the streets. Had we eyes like God, we should see other dead among the living beneath the guise of dress, of rosy health, of ample wealth, of high position, as well as under he humbler forms of concealment. It is told of Charles the fourth, King of France, that, being one time affected with the sense of his many sins, he fetched a deep sigh, and said to his wife, 'By the help of God, I will now so carry myself all my life long that I will never offend Him more,' which word he had no sooner uttered, but he fell down and died.