Meditation LXXXII.
Meditation LXXXII.
On Some Who Were Burned by an Explosion of Gunpowder.
Under sail, August 29, 1759.
What can be quicker, and more fleeting, than the explosion of gunpowder; yet what direful effects has it had on these poor men whom it only seemed to touch as it flew along!
So dismal, that even others who have lost their limbs, are objects of delight in comparison to those whose visage is burned blacker than a coal; whose beauty is marred, and whose countenance cannot be known; whose skin is parched, and falls off from their flesh. And, to sum up the whole, whose pain, though external, has kindled such a fever within, that the frame of nature suffers; they rave and pine away, until the scene is finished in death.
Now, can I look on these miserable patients without letting my reflections shoot away, and fix on the eternal world—on such as those who are suffering the vengeance of eternal fire? Ah! what a shocking sight is a tormented soul, and what miserable spectacles will the damned be, when soul and body are united to suffer in the fire that shall not be quenched, and by the worm that never dies! The most lovely person on earth, will there be loathed, and the most beautiful abhorred.
When a passing flame, that goes but skin-deep, produces such dismal effects—who can comprehend the torment of those who are sentenced to the flames of hell? Who can dwell with devouring fire? Think on this, my soul, and study to escape! Who can dwell with everlasting burnings? If gunpowder, the production of men, is so destructive; how much more fierce must that fire be, which is kindled by Omnipotence!
There are some antidotes against the scorchings of earthly fire—but none against the burnings of devouring wrath. Here the poor patients are perpetually sipping some cooling liquid to allay their thirst within—but there not one drop of water can be had to cool their scorched tongue, who swim in seas of fire, mingled with brimstone, which goes into their very souls, tormenting every part, agonizing every power! Here, in these poor men one part suffers, and the rest sympathize; but there every part, every sense suffers, and none can sympathize.
Surely, were the covering taken off hell, and the world allowed to look into the burning lake, they would drop down dead in a moment, the saints in a transport of joy, that they are to escape the flames; and sinners in the anguish of despair, that they are to plunge into them at their departing moments! Now, seeing these things are not dreams, why will not we awaken to our danger and our duty, and be wise before it be too late?
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