333 Sermon Illustrations on Consequences of Sin

A gentleman, who has had charge of more than one hundred thousand prisoners, and has taken special pains to ascertain the causes of their crimes says, that he does not recollect a single case of capital offence where the party had not been a Sabbath-breaker. And in many cases they assured him that Sabbath-breaking was the first step in their downward course. Indeed, he says, with reference to prisoners of all classes, nineteen out of twenty have neglected the Sabbath and other ordinances of religion. And he has often met with prisoners about to expiate their crimes by an ignominious death, who earnestly enforced upon the survivors the necessity of an observance of the Sabbath, and ascribed their own course of iniquity to a non-observance of that day.

Says the keeper of one of the largest prisons, "Nine-tenths of our inmates are those who did not value the Sabbath, and were not in the habit of attending public worship."

Of one hundred men admitted to the Massachusetts State Prison in one year, eighty-nine had lived in habitual violation of the Sabbath and neglect of public worship.

BREAKERS.—The following fact, communicated by a respectable merchant of New-York, is well worthy of notice:—"I have particularly observed," says the gentleman, "that those merchants in New-York who have kept their counting-rooms open on the Sabbath day, during my residence there (twenty-five years), have failed without exception."

In another part of the country an old man remarked, "I can recollect more than fifty years; but I cannot recollect a case of a man, in this town, who was accustomed to work on the Sabbath, who did not fail or lose his property before he died."

A poor villager in England supplied an answer to the cavil of an unbeliever; he said, "Time was, when I got amongst a set of people who would not believe the Bible, and I heard all their objections, and some of them did me great hurt; for I was not able to answer them, and my belief became almost as bad as theirs. I felt all the time I was wrong, and I could see the folly of some of their objections. They asked me one day, how it could be supposed that God would destroy Adam and his descendants, only for eating an apple? In my worst state I could see that there was nothing in this often answered and weak objection; it was not that our first parents had only eaten of some kind of fruit; it was that they had disobeyed God; it was sir," said the poor man, "that they broke the order."

About the 1st of July, 1843, an Indian, one of those half-civilized, rum-loving creatures who abound in the West, stepped out of Cataraugus County into the State of Pennsylvania, where, it seems, men are sold indulgences to sin, as well as in the Empire State; and then filled his pocket-bottle with real "red-eye," and the seller of the poison made two red cents clear profit. While under its maddening influence, he went into a farmer's house near by, with whom he was totally unacquainted, and murdered a mother and five children—all that comprised 426. 421 before our prayer meetings were joined by the professors of military and civil engineering, the professors of mineralogy and chemistry, and the instructor of artillery, and as many as seventeen cadets.

A young lawyer won and married a beautiful bride; all that heart could well wish was theirs. In a few years the husband began to ply the sparkling glass and against the pleadings of his wife and friends he pushed on his downward way. One fierce winter night he staggered home through the deep snow, and found his invalid wife in a cold room trying to keep her two babies warm. The drunken husband swore he would soon have it warm enough. It was midnight, the elements without were raging, and the drunken man was raving within. How he fired the house was not known; he was probably too drunk to know himself. The flames, fanned by the wind, drove out the wife with her babes to face that awful winter night. Soon becoming exhausted with her helpless babes clinging to her, the mother sank down into the snow. The house was reduced to ashes. In the morning, the now sobered author of this ruin, accompanied by his parents, searched among the snowdrifts for the lost ones. At length, wrapped in a spotless winding sheet of snow they were found. “White as marble the lovely features of the mother disclosed frozen tears on her cheeks, while the forms of her babes were clasped in her arms.

A cruel ruler once ordered a subject to make an iron chain, one link each day. When it was finished, the poor wretch was bound with it, and thrown into a dungeon. Thus day by day do people, in obedience to the command of their Master, Satan, forge the links of a chain of evil deeds that shall end in their eternal imprisonment.

Although God forgave the sins of Jacob and David, and the other Old Testament saints, yet there were certain consequences of their sins which those saints had to suffer after they were forgiven.

If a man gets drunk and goes out and breaks his leg, so that it must be amputated, God will forgive him if he asks it, but he will have to hop around on one leg all his life. A man may sow thistle-seed with grain-seed in a moment of pique against his master, and the master may forgive him, but the man will have to reap the thistles with the grain.

The surgeon of a regiment in India relates the following incident:—"A soldier rushed into the tent, to inform me that one of his comrades was drowning in a pond close by, and nobody could attempt to save him in consequence of the dense weeds which covered the surface. On repairing to the spot, we found the poor fellow in his last struggle, manfully attempting to extricate himself from the meshes of rope-like grass that encircled his body; but, to all appearance, the more he laboured to escape, the more firmly they became coiled round his limbs. At last he sank, and the floating plants closed in, and left not a trace of the disaster. After some delay, a raft was made, and we put off to the spot, and sinking a pole some twelve feet, a native dived, holding on by the stake, and brought the body to the surface. I shall never forget the expression of the dead man's face—the clenched teeth, and fearful distortion of the countenance, while coils of long trailing weeds clung round his body and limbs, the muscles of which stood out stiff and rigid, whilst his hands grasped thick masses, showing how bravely he had struggled for life." This heart-rending picture is a terribly accurate representation of a man with a conscience alarmed by remorse, struggling with his sinful habits, but finding them too strong for him. Divine grace can save the wretch from his unhappy condition, but if he be destitute of that, his remorseful agonies will but make him more hopelessly the slave of his passions. Laocoon, in vain endeavouring to tear off the serpents' coils from himself and children, aptly portrays the long-enslaved sinner contending with sin in his own strength. "Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots?"

The old proverb hath it, "Here's talk of the Turk and the Pope, but 'tis my next neighbour that does me the most harm." It is neither popery nor infidelity that we have half so much cause to dread as our own besetting sins. We want more Protestants against sin, more Dissenters from carnal maxims, and more Nonconformists to the world. Our own besetting sins require far more of our watchfulness than State blunders or ecclesiastical abuses.

To be slain by appetite is a common fate with men, as it was with this serpent:

A boa-constrictor woke up hungry from a three months’ nap and caught a rabbit, which he bolted whole in the usual way. This did not satisfy the cravings of his capacious stomach, and so he went a-field in search of further victuals, and presently came to a rail fence, which he essayed to get through. But the lump caused by the defunct tho undigested bunny stopt him, like a knot in a rope, when his head and a few feet only of his body had passed between the rails. Lying in this attitude, he caught and swallowed another rabbit which had incautiously ventured within his narrow sphere of action. Now, what was the state of affairs? He could neither go ahead nor astern through the fence, being jammed by his fore-and-aft inside passengers, and in this embarrassing position he was slain with ease.

I was at a hospital when an ambulance came tearing to the door, with a man whose leg was crusht from mid-thigh down. He was placed upon the operating table, restless and moaning. “Oh, doctor,” he said, “will it kill me?” and the good, blunt man of science answered, “No; not the leg, but the beer may do you up.” And it did. The limb was removed quickly and skilfully, but the clean aseptic cut had really no chance to heal, because the general physical degradation of beer no surgeon’s knife can amputate. When life and death grip one another, beer stabs life in the back.

— JOHN G. WOOLLEY

One of the strangest stories of false imprisonment comes from France. A woman was sentenced to imprisonment for life for having caused the death of her husband and brother. The three had lived together at Malaunay, near Rouen, in a cottage. The lower part of it was used as a shop. When the woman was sent to prison, other people occupied the shop, but the new tenants suffered, the man from fainting fits, his wife from nausea, from which she died. Another couple tried their fortune, but they, too, were overcome by the “spell of the accurst place,” as they supposed. They were subject to fainting and loss of memory. At last a scientific examination of the premises was made. Then it was found that adjoining the shop was a lime-kiln. In a wall dividing it from the cottage were many fissures, so that whenever lime was burned monoxide of carbon escaped into the inn. This was the secret of the deaths for which the woman was suffering. She was brought out of prison after six years of servitude.

While we should not put the blame for our sins on circumstances, we should remember that much which we condemn as sin would, if we understood it, be excused as due to circumstances that involve no blame.

Mr. Justice Burroughs, of the Common Pleas, used to resort to the use of proverbs and parables in dealing with the juries. One day at _nisi prius_, much talk was made about a consequential issue in the case. He began to explain it to the jury thus: “Gentlemen of the jury, you have been told that the first is a consequential issue. Now, perhaps, you do not know what a consequential issue means; but I dare say you understand nine-pins. Well, then, if you deliver your bowl so as to strike the front pin in a particular direction, down go the rest. Just so it is with these counts. Knock down the first, and all the rest will go to the ground; that’s what we call a consequential issue. (Text.)--CROAKE JAMES, “Curiosities of Law and Lawyers.”

For the soldier in the far-away Philippines, death lurks in many places. Perhaps it is the enemy in the open, or the shot from the thicket, or the assassin’s knife in the dark. These are not the deadliest foes, however. The cholera is everywhere. Man can guard against the one, but he falls a victim to the other. Not long since a certain constabulary officer had met the enemy and defeated them. Before he reached camp on the return march, however, disease laid hold upon him for its own. Ere he reached the camp he was dead. In trying to explain that sudden demise, a companion of the march said:

When we stopt at shacks on the roadside and asked for water it was furnished us in a coconut shell with the native’s thumb dipt in and the water so muddy one could not see the bottom, but down it went with some jest about a cool death.

The thumb of the native, dipt in the shell of water, brought death to the drinker. There is another sort of cup in which lurks the serpent of death--the wine cup.

The size of a thing is not always the measure of its destructiveness. We look at a big battleship and exclaim what a huge instrument of destruction. Yet the tiny germ called the tubercle bacillus is so small that it is said that 900 can find room on the point of a small sewing-needle, and these germs destroy more lives each year than the mightiest warship could possibly do in action.

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Character, like corn, may be destroyed, not by the assault of a single great evil, but by many minute sins and faults. Vernon L. Kellogg writes thus of corn-root aphids:

I forget how many millions of bushels of corn were raised in the State of Illinois last year, but there were very many. And that means thousands and thousands of acres of corn-fields. Now in all these corn-fields there live certain tiny soft-bodied insects called corn-root aphids. Their food is the sap of the growing corn-plants, which they suck from the roots. Altho each corn-root aphid is only about one-twentieth of an inch long and one-twenty-fifth of an inch wide, and has a sucking-beak simply microscopic in size, yet there are so many millions of these little insects, all with their microscopic little beaks stuck into the corn-roots, and all the time drinking, drinking the sap, which is the life-blood of the corn-plants, that they do a great deal of injury to the corn-fields of Illinois and cause a great loss in money to the farmers.--“Insect Stories.”

A right once surrendered may be lost forever.

A story is told by the Kermanjis of Persia of how the jackals came to inhabit the desert. In olden days the jackals were the domesticated pets of Kerman, while the dogs dwelt among the ruins outside the city walls. The wily dogs asked the noble jackals if they would not exchange places for just three days, in order that the invalids among the dogs might recover their strength and health, at the same time enlarging upon the beauties of the desert life. The generous jackals consented. But when the stipulated period expired the dogs declined to yield their place, saying, “No, thank you, we prefer to stay where we are, and do not wish ever to return to the desert.” So the outwitted jackals went howling away, and have been wailing nightly ever since.

See ABSTAINERS LIVE LONG; BEER, EFFECT OF; ALCOHOLIC BAIT.

DRINK AND NATIVE RACES

Missionaries are constantly emphasizing the horrors consequent on the drink traffic among the natives of Africa. Bishop Johnson, one of its able native bishops, declared that “European commerce, weighted as this commerce has been for many years with the liquor traffic, has been as great a curse to Africa, a greater than the oceanic slave-trade.” Even still more effective was a statement made by a Christian negro speaking to an audience in England, when he brought out of a bag an ugly idol and said, “This repulsive object is what we worshiped in times past,” and then he added, “Now I will show you what England has sent to be our god to-day,” and produced an empty gin-bottle.--JESSE PAGE, “The Black Bishop.”

The jovial, genial drunkard of the Anglo-Saxon times is a rare personage nowadays, and tho there may be men as fond of sack as Falstaff himself, they seem to have lost the intense sociability which was the characteristic of the burly knight. Nearly all the great men of the Napoleonic era were drinkers--Pitt, Fox, Sheridan, Wellington himself. Napoleon’s marshals had the soldier’s pet failing, and it is said of stern old Blücher that he slept in his boots and went to bed in a more or less pronounced condition of intoxication for thirty years. Byron boasted of having drank a dozen bottles of wine in a day, and his “Don Juan” was composed under the influence of gin. Thackeray loved the bottle, so did Dickens. The children suffer for the failings of their sires, and many of the nervous symptoms and morbid cravings which perplex physicians in the young men and women of to-day are in reality legacies bequeathed by overbibulous ancestors. (Text.)--Baltimore _Herald_.

It was written just before he committed suicide. “I leave to the world a wasted character and ruinous example; I leave to my parents as great a sorrow as in their weakness they could possibly bear; I leave to my brothers and sisters as much shame and dishonor as I could have brought them; I leave to my wife a broken heart and a life full of shame; I leave to my children poverty, ignorance, a bad character and the memory of their father lying in a drunkard’s grave and having gone to a drunkard’s hell.” This is typical. Decent men are becoming sick at heart with this thing. We are now in the midst of a war that promises to become world-wide, relentless until our Christian obligation to the world is fully met. Since religion, business, science, education and the State have taken the field against drink there is certain promise of victory.--_Methodist Recorder._

In the legend, the Duchess Isabella, wishing earnestly to obtain some object, was instructed by the crafty court astrologer to kiss day by day for a hundred days a certain beautiful picture, and she would receive the fulfilment of her wish. It was a sinister trick, for the picture contained a subtle poison which stained the lips with every salutation. Little by little the golden tresses of the queenly woman turned white, her eyes became dim, her color faded, her lips became black; but, infatuated, the suicidal kiss was continued until before the hundred days were complete the royal dupe lay dead.

So we yield ourselves to the sorcery of sin; despite many warnings, we persist in our fellowship with what seems truth, beauty, liberty, pleasure, until our whole soul is poisoned and destroyed. (Text.)--W. L. WATKINSON, “The Transfigured Sackcloth.”

The chaplain in charge of the penitentiaries in Kings County, N. Y., states that one-half of all the young men whose careers he has investigated show that the race-track and its attendant evils were the beginning of their downward course. The records of the evil and criminal courts, are replete with similar testimony. Bankrupts, women who risk their married happiness, clerks, pilfering from the till, embezzlers, forgers, defaulters, suicides, show how, to quote a victim who stole and then lost at one time $10,000 at the races, “that betting is the devil’s own joke,” and there are many full-sized victims.

— S. PARKES CADMAN

Richard I, third Duke of Normandy, became involved in long and arduous wars with the King of France, which compelled him to call in the aid of more Northmen from the Baltic. His new allies, in the end, gave him as much trouble as the old enemy, with whom they came to help William I, his predecessor, contend; and he found it very hard to get them away. He wanted at length to make peace with the French king, and to have them leave his dominions; but they said: “That was not what we came for.”

There are helps that become hindrances, and aids that are embarrassing in the end.

We see in the following incident how men who break law forfeit the right to secure the protection of the law:

A man in the preventive service on the south coast told this history to Mrs. Norton, the authoress. He said he had once been a smuggler. Desiring to reform he went to his smuggling companions and demanded his share (one-third) of the boat, as he wanted to leave the partnership. They refused, and laughed at his demand; tho he offered to refer the claim to an arbitrator, they only laughed the more. This exasperated him; so he went out one night and sawed off a third of the boat. This did him no good, but the expense to his companions would be more than his share if they had peaceably given it to him. Mrs. Norton made some comments on this method of redress, to which the man rejoined: “Yes, marm, but you see they darn’t nor I darn’t complain at law, ’cos it was a smuggling craft; and that’s how it would always be, if there was no law, a man wud try and right hisself, and if he couldn’t, he’d revenge hisself. That just it.” (Text.)--CROAKE JAMES, “Curiosities of Law and Lawyers.”