37 Sermon Illustrations on Divine Justice

The farmer who plants certain seeds knows what to expect. He knows he will reap what he sows. He may not know exactly how many bushels of corn he'll get to an acre, but he knows it will all be the result of the seeds he planted. That is an unbreakable law of nature: we reap what we sow, but we can never know exactly how much the harvest will be. This also holds true in the spiritual realm. We find immutable laws of sowing and reaping there also. I know some people try to deny the existence of such a realm as the Kingdom of God. They are like moles who are ignorant of the existence of the sunlit world because they are blind.

According to Grecian mythology, Procrustes was a famous robber. He had an iron bedstead on which he used to tie all who fell into his hands. If they were shorter than the bed, he stretched them till they fitted it; if they were longer, he cut off what extended over. At last, Theseus served him as he had served others.

As water is deepest where it is the stillest; so, where God is most silent in threatening, and patient in sparing, there he is most inflamed with anger, and purpose of revenge. And therefore the fewer the judgments be that are poured forth upon the wicked in this life, the more are reserved in store for them in the life to come. Cavedray.

Take a straight stick, and put it into the water, and it will seem crooked? Why? Because we look upon it through two mediums, — air and water. Thus the proceedings of God in his justice, which in themselves are straight, without the least obliquity, seem unto us crooked. That wicked men should prosper, and good men be afflicted; that the Israelites should make the bricks, and the Egyptians dwell in the houses; that servants should ride on horseback, and princes go on foot, — these are things that make the best Christians stagger in their judgments. And why? But because they look upon God's proceedings through a double medium, — of flesh and spirit; that so all things seem to go cross, though, indeed, they are right enough. And hence it is that God's proceedings in his justice are not so well discerned; the eyes of man alone being not competent judges thereof.

— Spencer

When I consider how the goodness of God is abused and perverted by the greatest part of mankind, I cannot but be of his mind, that said, "The greatest miracle in the world is God's patience and bounty to an ungrateful world." Oh! what would God not do for his creature, if thankful, that thus heaps the coals of his mercies upon the heads of his enemies? But think not, sinners, that you shall escape thus. God's mill goes slow, but it grinds small; the more admirable his patience and bounty now is, the more dreadful and insupportable will that fury be which ariseth out of his abused goodness. Nothing blunter than iron; yet, when sharpened, it hath an edge that will cut mortally: nothing smoother than the sea; yet, when stirred into a tempest, nothing rageth more: nothing so sweet as the patience and goodness of God, and nothing so terrible as his wrath, when it takes fire. Gurnall.

Vindicated. It is recorded in history, that a beautiful maiden named Blanche, the serf of an ancient nobleman, was wooed by her master's son. Not admiring his character, she scorned his suit. Upon this, his course of love turned to bitter hatred. Just then, a precious string of pearls confided to the maiden's care was lost. Her pseudo-lover charged her with the theft; and, in accordance with the customs of that rude age, she was doomed to die. On the day of the execution, as the innocent girl knelt to offer her dying prayer, a flash of lightning struck a statue of Justice which adorned the marketplace, to the dust. From a scattered bird's-nest, built in a crevice of the image, dropped the lost pearls; thus declaring her innocence. In a moment, the exultant crowd rushed to the scaffold, demanding her release. There she knelt beside the block, pale and beautiful, and with a smile of peace upon her lips. They spoke; she answered not: they touched her; she was dead! To preserve her memory, they raised a statue there; and to this day, when men gaze upon her image, they condemn her oppressor, they praise her for the purity of her character, they recognize the justice of Him whose lightnings testified to her innocence.

— W. Smith

I tell thee, there is nothing else but justice: one strong thing I find here below, — the just thing, the true thing. My friend, if thou hadst all the artillery of Woolwich marching at thy back in support of an unjust thing, and infinite bonfires visibly waiting ahead of thee to blaze centuries to come for thy victory on behalf of it, I would advice thee to call "Halt!" to fling down thy baton, and say, "In God's name, no!" What will thy success amount to? If the thing is unjust, thou hast not succeeded, though bonfires blazed from north to south, and bells rang, and editors wrote leading articles, and the just thing lay trampled out of sight to all mortal eyes, an abolished and annihilated thing. Carlyle.

When Napoleon became Emperor of the French, and thought himself the founder of a dynasty, it became a matter of importance to him how it should be perpetuated. By Josephine he had no offspring; and he must therefore choose an heir. His first will was, that the imperial crown should be settled on Napoleon Bonaparte and his direct issue in the male line; his second, on Joseph Bonaparte and the heirs male of his body; and, third, on Louis Bonaparte and the heirs male of his body. But, in an evil hour, he determined to put away his wife, and make an alliance with the house of Austria, for the direct object of having an heir to the throne descended from himself. His alliance with Austria betrayed and ruined him; his heir died in early life; while his wife disgraced her imperial marriage by the most shameless licentiousness. His original will is now literally carried out. The present Emperor of the French (Louis Napoleon) is the son of Louis Bonaparte and Josephine's daughter Hortense, and grandson of Josephine. Providence punished the crime of Napoleon by depriving him of direct succession, and giving it to the wronged empress.

The legend of St. Macarius of Alexandria runs thus: "One day, as Macarius wandered among those ancient Egyptian toubs wherein he had made himself a dwelling-place, he found the skull of a mummy, and, turning it over with his crutch, he inquired to whom it belonged; and it replied, 'To a pagan.' And Macarius, looking into the empty eyes, said, 'Where, then, is thy soul?' And the head replied, 'In hell.' Macarius asked, 'How deep?' And the head replied, 'The depth is greater than the distance from heaven to earth.' Then Macarius asked, 'Are there any deeper than thou art?' The skull replied, 'Yes: the Jews are deeper still.' And Macarius asked, 'Are there any deeper than the Jews?' To which the head replied, 'Yes, in sooth! for the Christians whom Jesus Christ hath redeemed, and who show in their actions that they despise his doctrine, are deeper still."

Herod the Great, the slayer of the innocents, and first persecutor of Christianity, was overwhelmed with agonizing physical disease; and his numerous family was extinct in a hundred years. Pontius Pilate, who condemned Christ, was soon after expelled from office, and committed suicide. The persecutor Nero, after slaying thousands of Christians, among them Peter and Paul, attempted to take his own life; but, failing through cowardice, called others to his aid. The persecutor Domitian was murdered by his own people. So was it with the Emperors Caius, Severus, and Heliogabalus. Scarcely one, if any, of the prominent persecutors of the Church escaped signal retribution. The Emperor Claudius was eaten of worms. Decius, Gallus, Aurelian, Maximin, all persecutors of the Church, died deaths of violence. Maximinus put out the eyes of thousands of Christians; soon after which a fearful disease of the eyes broke out among his people, of which himself died in great agony. Valens, who caused fourscore presbyters to be sent to sea in a ship, and burnt alive, himself defeated by the Goths, fled to a cottage, where he was burnt alive.

The dog of Montargis vainly defended his master, Aubri de Montdidier, when set upon by his mortal foe Macaire, then lay day and night on the forest-grave where Macaire hoped his crime was hidden, only going to the house of his master's chief friend in Paris for his daily meal, until at length he was followed, the ground searched, the murder discovered, and the corpse freshly buried. Afterwards, the dog's furious attacks upon Macaire were deemed an accusation; and the matter was put to the proof by the ordeal of combat in the Isle de Notre Dame. The dog had a tub into which he might retire; the man, a club and a shield. The combat was so lengthy, that Macaire, no doubt from the force of conscience, was so worn out, that he fainted away, and, on coming to himself, owned the deed.

— Golden Deeds

Mr. Clarke relates an account of two French merchants, who were traveling to a fair, and while passing through a wood, one of them murdered the other, and robbed him of his money. After burying him, to prevent discovery, he proceeded on his journey. The dog of the person murdered remained, however, by the grave of his master; and, by his loud and continued howling, attracted the notice of several persons in the neighborhood, who, by this means, discovered the murder. The fair being ended, they watched the return of the merchants. The murderer no sooner appeared in view, than the dog sprung furiously upon him. He was apprehended, confessed the crime, and was executed.

How many murders have been disclosed after the lapse of years, and the perpetrators of them brought to condign punishment! Of this, the case of Eugene Aram, of Knaresborough, is a remarkable instance. Descended from an ancient Yorkshire family, he had cultivated his talents with so much care, that he acquired a knowledge of Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and Chaldee, and was conversant with history, antiquity, botany, and poetry; but he associated with low and depraved company, and in conjunction with Daniel Clark, a shoemaker, and Richard Housman, a flax-dresser, it was agreed to make use of Clark's credit to borrow a quantity of silver plate and other valuables from their neighbors, and then to abscond. Having accomplished their object, they met on the evening of February 7, 1744, to make a division; and either to prevent detection, or to increase their own share of the plunder, Aram and Housman murdered Clark, and concealed his body in St. Robert's Cave. No trace of the perpetrators of the deed occurred till fourteen years afterwards, when a skeleton was discovered at Thistle Hill, near Knaresborough, which was at first supposed to be Clark's. Housman, who was then living, rejected the supposition, and taking up one of the bones, said, "This is no more one of Daniel Clark's bones than it is mine." Suspicion was immediately excited against Housman, who at length confessed his participation in the murder, but that Aram was the perpetrator. Aram, who at that time resided at Lynn, in Norfolk, was forthwith apprehended, tried, and executed. What an illustration of the text, "Be sure thy sin will find thee out!"

A M. Martin was murdered at Bilguy in France, which was soon after discovered in a most singular manner. The crime was committed on the 9th of February, on the high road, at one o'clock in the afternoon. The shot entered M. Martin's heart, and he fell down dead. He was returning from collecting, and had only 130 francs about him, of which he was robbed, as well as of his watch and ring. The charge of the gun was rammed down with a written paper. This had been carefully taken up, and carried away with the body. The writing was still legible. On this piece of paper there were words which are used in glass manufactories, and a date of nearly fifteen years preceding. Upon this single indication, the magistrate went to the owner of the glass manufactory at Bilguy, examined his books, and succeeded in finding an article relative to the delivery of some glass, of which the paper which had been found was the bill of parcels. The suspicion immediately fell on the son-in-law of this individual, who had been out of the country for ten years. Orders were given to arrest the suspected person. When the officers came to him, he confessed the deed on the spot, and even showed where the watch and ring were, which were found under the thatch of his house.

Judge Helmanots, in the department of Lips, sent a peasant girl with money to Golnitz. Not far from that village, a countryman joined her, and inquired where she was going? She replied that she was going with 200 florins to Golnitz. He was going there too, he said, and would accompany her; and here he took a path which he stated would shorten their journey two leagues. At length, arriving at the brink of an excavation, (once worked as a mine,) he stopped short and cried out to the girl, "Behold your grave; give me the money instantly." She complied; but fell down on her knees and prayed him to spare her life. He refused, but happening to turn away his head, she sprang upon him, threw him into the cavity, and ran and told the villagers. Several men returned with her, provided with ladders; and descending into the hole, found the countryman dead, with the money which he had taken from the girl in his possession. Near him lay three dead female bodies in a state of putrefaction. It is probable that these were victims to the rapacity of the same villain. In a girdle which he had round his body, was discovered a sum of 800 florins in gold.

The fame of an English dog has been deservedly transmitted to posterity by a monument in basso rilievo, which still remains on the chimney piece of the grand hall at the castle of Montargis, in France; the sculpture represents a dog fighting with a champion, and was occasioned by the following circumstances:—

Aubri de Mondidier, a gentleman of family and fortune, traveling alone through the forest of Bondi, was murdered and buried under a tree. His dog, an English bloodhound, would not leave his master's grave for several days, till at length, compelled by hunger, he went to the house of an intimate friend of the unfortunate Aubri's at Paris, and by his melancholy howling seemed desirous of expressing the loss they had both sustained. He repeated his cries, ran to the door, then looked back to see if any one followed him, returned to his master's friend, pulled him by the sleeve, and with dumb eloquence entreated him to go with him.

The singularity of all the actions of the dog; his coming there without his master, whose faithful companion he always had been; the sudden disappearance of his master; and, perhaps, that divine dispensation of justice and events which will not permit the guilty to remain long undetected, made the company resolve to follow the dog, who conducted them to the tree, where he renewed his howl, scratching the earth with his feet, to signify that that was the spot they should search. Accordingly, on digging, the body of the unfortunate Aubri was found.

Some time after the dog accidentally met the assassin, who is styled, by all historians that relate this fact, the Chevalier Macaire; when, instantly seizing him by the throat, it was with great difficulty he was made to leave his prey.

Whenever he saw him after, the dog pursued and attacked him with equal fury. Such obstinate virulence in the animal, confined only to Macaire, appeared extraordinary to those persons who recollected the dog's fondness for his master, and, at the same time, several instances wherein Macaire had displayed his envy and hatred to Aubri de Mondidier.

Additional circumstances increased suspicion, which at length reached the royal ears. The king (Louis VIII.) sent for the dog. He appeared extremely gentle, till, perceiving Macaire in the midst of twenty noblemen, he ran directly towards him, growled, and flew at him as usual.

In those times, when no positive proof of a crime could be procured, an order was issued for a combat between the accuser and accused. These were denominated the judgment of God, from a persuasion that Heaven would sooner work a miracle than suffer innocence to perish with infamy.

The king, struck with such a collection of circumstantial evidence against Macaire, determined to refer the decision to the chance of war; or, in other words, he gave orders for a combat between the chevalier and the dog. The lists were appointed in the aisle of Notre Dame, then an unenclosed, uninhabited place; Macaire's weapon was a great cudgel.

The dog had an empty cask allowed for his retreat, to recover breath. The combatants being ready, the dog no sooner found himself at liberty than he ran round his adversary, avoiding his blows, menacing him on every side, till his strength was exhausted; then springing forward, he griped him by the throat, threw him on the ground, and forced him to confess his crime before the king and the whole court. In consequence of which the chevalier, after a few days, was convicted on his own acknowledgment, and beheaded on a scaffold in the aisle of Notre Dame.

The above curious recital, is translated from the Memoirs sur les Duels, and is confirmed by many judicious critical writers, particularly Julius Scaliger and Montfaucon, neither of them relators of fabulous stories.

A young lady, named D'Aumont, was executed in the city of Lyons, for the supposed murder of her uncle, the Chevalier de la Poulone, with whom she had lived in the most affectionate harmony from her infantile years. Having conceived a passion for a deserving young officer quartered in the town, and between whom and the young lady a mutual affection subsisted, she came to a determination of eloping with him unknown to her uncle, and only admitted one female servant to her confidence. It unfortunately happened, that the servant was leagued with a private soldier, who meditated the plan of murdering the chevalier, with a view of plundering the house, on the night the intended elopement should take place, in order that the unhappy niece should be judged the perpetrator of the horrid deed, which was accordingly effected with every degree of barbarity. The young lady and the officer were immediately pursued, taken, and committed to prison. The former was tried, and executed, on the false evidence of the female servant, and the officer, her husband, was cashiered, and sent to the gallies for life.

Some time after, the servant being taken ill, threatened to divulge the whole matter before a magistrate; to prevent which, the soldier, who had married her, put an end to his wife's existence; but, at length, feeling sincere remorse for these repeated murders, he voluntarily surrendered himself up to justice, confessed the whole affair, and was publicly executed, amidst the execrations of the enraged multitude.

What adds to the dreadful recital is, that the young lady who was executed, was not less remarkable for her beauty, than her unaffected piety, and sweet simplicity of manners. A broken heart soon terminated the existence of the wretched officer, who died in six weeks after the execution of the most amiable sufferer, in the most excruciating tortures.

A clerical brother of like sentiments with Mr. Hallock, who had just lost a dear son without the consolation of strong hope in his case, once put this question, with rather peculiar emphasis: "Do you not sometimes doubt, Mr. Hallock, whether a holy and benevolent God will inflict eternal punishment upon a part of mankind?" He promptly replied, "No, sir; if a man should tell me that he had just seen Canton meeting-house in flames, and I should hasten to the spot and find it not so, would he be able afterwards to look me in the face? So, if there is to be no everlasting punishment for any of our race, how could Christ, after his many positive declarations to the contrary, hold up his head before his people in the future world?"

# QUARRELS.

iest man; for I began the strife, and you began the peace."

Some years ago, there lived in the village of Sutton Basset, in Leicestershire, an elderly man who was quite blind, but who, from his early acquaintance and familiarity with the place before this great misfortune befell him, was enabled to find his way about the village and surrounding fields without a guide. He was particularly the butt and jest of a poor sinful woman who lived near the footpath stile, and who recognized not the hand of God in his affliction. She frequently attempted to impose on him for the mere purpose of plaguing and distressing him, and had one day contrived a very disagreeable vexation, which, to her merriment succeeded. But, shortly after this, she gave birth to a son, who was born stone blind; and her following child, a son was also born blind; and these two unfortunate youths were living, in 1833, in the above-named village, and obtained a precarious livelihood by opening the gates for passengers, on the roads adjoining the place, with the addition of a small allowance from the parish. They were two fine grown lads, and of about equal size. They were regarded by their neighbors as the objects of God's just displeasure against the wanton and foolish wickedness of their parent. We may be sure sin will find us out: if not always in this world, it will in the next; but even here sinners are not always exempted from punishment.