The Knickerbocker, Vol. 10, No. 3, September 1837Various
History
The Knickerbocker, Vol. 10, No. 3, September 1837
Various
Periodicals
If these be the true reasons of the gloomy ceremonies of death,
it is devoutly to be hoped that the fears of this result may in
some cases be unfounded. We do not wish to controvert the idea of
rewards and punishments hereafter, for they belong to the nature of
the soul, whether in this world or in the next; but it seems rather
extra-judicial, a plain case of supererogation, to bestow upon _all_
the marks of divine justice before hand.
In case of executions in human justice, if they take place _in
terrorem_, to awe the multitude into obedience, it is very well to
dress the hangman in the probable habiliments of the devil, and to
ride the culprit through the streets as a show, upon a pine coffin.
There should be as little romance, as few flowers in his way, as
possible. It is gross inconsistency, certainly, to introduce any
softening circumstances into public executions, as well as mistaken
mercy to the passions of men. In saying this, we suppose it is not
pretended that the execution of human beings is authorized upon any
other ground than support of the law. To execute privately, or with
as little terror as possible, is to enact over again the trick of
Nero to ensnare his subjects: for surely, the penalty is part of the
law, and the execution of it should be as open as the condemnation,
or the people are robbed of these horrid privileges of assisting
their virtue.
But to return to our subject. We dislike our funerals, because they
seem to be one of the remains of the many attempts to subject the
people to the control of the priests. And now, we blush to write
it, we fear the influence of the clergy in some churches is mainly
dependent upon a certain idea people have, that their future destiny
is somewhat in such hands. It is a poor compliment to our religious
nature, to suppose we are most fit to give our hearts to God, when
under an abject fear of death; that
'When thoughts of the last bitter hour
Come like a blight over our spirits,
And the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,
Make us to shudder, and grow sick at heart,'
we are best prepared to pay that voluntary homage, to feel that free
devotion, which can alone be pleasing to our Creator.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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