We have hitherto taught how those who lie abed with a lingering illness should prepare themselves for death: now it has seemed good to add what those must do who are in danger of death not from a lingering illness but from some other cause. Now there are three kinds of men to whom the peril of death threatens apart from the ordinary sickness. For some, death is at hand, unforeseen, and certain — such as those who are struck down by apoplexy, or struck by a bolt from heaven. For others, death is at hand, neither unforeseen nor certain, but highly probable — such as those who wage war against enemies, or who on the high seas battle with the waves and the blasts of the winds. Finally, for others death is at hand, neither unforeseen nor uncertain — such as those who by sentence of the judge are struck down by the executioner. Men of the first kind have no other remedy than the daily — or rather the continual — remembrance of death. And to these properly belongs that most weighty admonition of the Lord and Savior: Watch, because you know not the day nor the hour (Matt. 25). A hard thing indeed, yet a precious necessity, which compels us to what is best and most profitable. If the Lord were to say: Keep watch, naked, in the coldest air, until you freeze and, your flesh rent on every side, are utterly extinguished — as the Forty Martyrs once kept watch — would not this have to be done, that we might arrive safe and glad at eternal happiness? And if He were to say: Keep watch, naked and bound to the gridiron, until, consumed by the fire burning beneath you with the deepest and sharpest pain, you depart this life — as we read was once done in the case of St. Lawrence — would not this also have to be done with a ready spirit, that we might escape the hell of eternal fire? Yet this is not what the Lord our God commands of us all; but that we keep watch, lest, while we sleep, the thief come in the night and steal from us, sleeping in sin, the treasure of chastity, or the treasure of faith, or the other goods of true virtue; and lest, overwhelmed by the sleep of mortal sin and overtaken by death, we forfeit the kingdom of heaven and be cast into the hell that burns with unquenchable fire. But few there are who die so suddenly that no remedy can be brought to them. Suppose they are few: how do you know that you will not be one of them? And if you shall be one of those few, what will the multitude of those who have escaped such a danger profit you? Hear, therefore, while it is permitted you to escape so dreadful an evil, the counsel of God our Father, who cries aloud and says: Watch, watch, because you know not the day nor the hour.
For the second kind of men — who either fall suddenly dead in war, or perish at sea by the violence of the storm — three things seem necessary if they are to die happily. The first is that they not go to war unless it is certain to them that the war is just; or if they take up arms not willingly but compelled by their own prince, that at least they not know the war to be unjust. For so teaches St. Augustine in his books against Faustus the Manichean (bk. 22, ch. 75): he writes that the case of the prince who commands is one thing, and that of the soldier who obeys another; and he teaches that the prince cannot wage war unless he knows the war to be just, but the soldier may, provided he does not know the war to be unjust. The second is that in war they observe the laws of St. John the Baptist, who, when asked by the soldiers what they must do to be saved, answered: Do violence to no man, accuse no man falsely, and be content with your pay (Luke 3). The last is that they never suffer mortal sin to dwell in their heart; otherwise it will easily come to pass that death, which in battles takes many out of the midst of life, will surprise them unprepared and send them away to eternal death to be tormented forever. Soldiers, therefore, stationed in camp and in the greatest danger, must keep perpetual watch, and fight no less against the demons tempting them to sins than against mortal enemies contending for temporal glory.
The same things may be said to those who sail the sea not without danger. For first they must take care not to set sail for an evil end — such as to seize and despoil all whom they meet, as pirates do. Next, if the voyage is undertaken for the sake of fighting, let them too observe the laws received from the most holy Forerunner of the Lord. Finally, let them likewise not dare to offend God by mortal sin, since they are no farther from death than their ship is from the waters.
Men of the third kind may, it seems, be called happy, if they know their own good. For they are put to death either justly, having been condemned, or unjustly. If justly, their death will be able to profit them as a satisfaction before God, provided they sincerely detest their sin and willingly accept death for the expiation of their sins. If they are unjustly slain, and forgive from the heart those who were the cause of their destruction, they will be imitators of the Redeemer, who prayed the Father for His crucifiers, saying: Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do. Add to this that such men suffer far less in death than those who labor under a grievous and lingering illness. Moreover, since their senses are whole and their brain unimpaired, they can more easily give themselves to holy confession, to the receiving of the Sacrament of the Body of the Lord, and to prayer, than those who are kept in bed, occupied with enduring many kinds of pain, and for the most part weakened in their natural strength, or even utterly prostrate. Finally, in many places there are not wanting learned and pious men who, with the greatest diligence and solicitude, assist those who are to suffer death, and teach them how they should prepare themselves to receive death devoutly, so that when they begin to die to mortal life, they may begin to live to blessed immortality.