EPITAPHS BY THE FOUNDER

HERE LIES TOM JONES
He had a beautiful nature and a young, virtuous wife, and some beautiful children. All starved and wretched through their father’s selfish ways. He can’t help himself. He says so. He has proved it. He is dead in drunkenness.

HERE LIES HARRY PLEASE-YOURSELF
Mad on footballing, theatres, music-halls, dances, and the like. Nothing else morning, noon, or night seems to interest him. There he is, dead in pleasure.

HERE LIES JAMES HAUGHTINESS
Full of high notions about his abilities, or his knowledge, or his family, or his house, or his fortune, or his business, or his dogs, or something. There he is, dead in pride.

HERE LIES JANE FEATHERHEAD
Absorbed in her hats, and gowns, and ribbons, and companions, and attainments. There she is, dead in vanity.

HERE LIES MISER GRASPALL
Taken up with his money—sovereigns, dollars, francs, kroner, much or little. Let me have more and more is his dream, and his cry, and his aim, by night and day. There he is, dead in covetousness.

HERE LIES SCEPTICAL DOUBTALL
Hunting through the world of nature, and revolution, and providence, and specially through the dirty world of his own dark, little heart, for arguments against God and Christ and Heaven. There he is, dead in infidelity.

HERE LIES JEREMIAH MAKE-BELIEVE
With his Bible class and singing choir and Sunday religion and heartless indifference to the salvation or damnation of the perishing crowds at his door. There he is, dead in formality.

HERE LIES SURLY BADBLOOD
Packed full of suspicions and utter disregard for the happiness and feelings of his wife, family, neighbors or friends. There he is, dead in bad tempers.

HERE LIES DIVES ENJOY-YOURSELF
Look at his marble tomb, and golden coffin, and embroidered shrine and ermine robes. This is a man whose every earthly want is supplied—carriages, music, friends. There he is, dead in luxury.

HERE LIES DICK NEVER-FEAR
His mouth is filled with laughter, and his heart with contempt when you speak to him about his soul. He has no anxiety; not he. He’ll come off all right, never fear. Is not God merciful? And did not Christ die? And did not his mother pray? Don’t be alarmed, God won’t hurt him. There he is, dead in presumption.

HERE LIES JUDAS RENEGADE
His grave has a desolate look. The thorns and thistles grow over it. The occupant has money and worldly friends, and many other things, but altogether he gets no satisfaction out of them; he is uneasy all the time. There he is, dead in apostasy.

(Excerpt taken from “The Centenary Call Campaign 1929 Plan of Operation” an “Intensive Spiritual Campaign” manual from the Eastern Territory)