. It shall be well with him, by
John Macduff. . Say to the righteous that it
shall be well with him, Isaiah 3.10. The human family is divided into
a great variety of social and artificial distinctions. But
in the sight of God, there are but two classes into which the
multifarious elements of universal humanity can be resolved. There are only the righteous
and the wicked. Concerning one of these classes,
God proclaims that it shall be well with them while to the other
he pronounces a solemn woe. What makes the condition of a
wicked man to be so fearful is the solemn fact that God is against
him, and what makes that of the righteous to be so blessed is
that God is for him. All the divine attributes are
arrayed against the impenitent sinner, but when he becomes a
saint, they all join to take his part. Such being the case,
having the eternal Jehovah in all his boundless perfections
on his side, it cannot be otherwise than well with him. It shall
be well with the righteous, not merely in life, but in death. It is appointed by the irrevocable
decree of God that all men must die. There is no discharge in
that war, no release from that mortal struggle. Wealth has no
bribe which death will receive, Wisdom has no art by which death
can be avoided, Power has no defence against death, Beauty
has no charm to death's eye, The voice of eloquence is lost
to death's ear. Even religion has no security
from death's stroke. Here the mightiest conqueror
is vanquished, and the proudest of monarchs finds himself a slave. From its ruthless grasp, no age,
no condition can escape. Those who are in the bloom and
freshness of youth cannot escape, for man, at his best estate,
is altogether vanity. The great and prosperous cannot
escape, For the rich man also died and was buried, The wicked
cannot escape. He is driven, yes, dragged away
in his wickedness, The most fearful of all deaths is his, That of
dying in his sins. Neither can the righteous escape,
He must go the way of all the earth, And become a tenant of
the silent grave. But at that solemn season it
shall be well with him, When the last sands of the numbered
hour are running out, When his earthly friends will be compelled
to leave him, When the cold dews of death will be standing in
large drops Upon his pallid brow, when every nerve and vein May
be racked and wrenched in fearful agonies, by the irresistible
power of the grim tyrant. Even then it shall be well with
him, the dying strife will soon be over, and through death's
gloomy portals he will enter upon that blessed state where
all is peace and bliss for ever. and they will go away into eternal
punishment, but the righteous will go into eternal life