QUICKLY the news spread through the village that a large vessel was rapidly nearing the "Church Point," and soon the sea-shore was lined with a large company of eager watchers. A terrible storm was raging, and the angry billows were heaving their foam-crested waves high up in the air, and over the huge rocks which had stood guard for so many years over the little fishing village of—. A dark moving mass was dimly discernible in the distance, rolling and pitching as if at the mercy of the cruel breakers. Arrangements were speedily made to effect communication with the ship by means of the life-saving appliances.
The opportune moment was awaited with feverish anxiety in the deepening darkness of that winter's evening. It was difficult to follow the movements of the vessel, but at last she seemed to be stationary, and, concluding she had grounded, the coast-guard quickly dispatched a rocket, which apparently landed right over the ship. After a few moments' waiting, and no response coming, another and another was fired, with the same result.
Why didn't the sailors take advantage of this timely help? Why didn't they haul in the line?
Why didn't they shout or signal in some way in answer to the efforts being put forth for their rescue? Was there any one on board? Had they all succumbed to the cold rand privation they may have had to endure? These and similar questions agitated the minds of those on shore. Now a cry was raised, "Can't the lifeboat venture out?”
Would the crew dare attempt to face that pitiless blast? Yes, willing hearts and hands were ready to undertake it if there was any possibility of success. The more experienced said, “It is impossible; there is no sea-room, and she will be unable to steer clear of those terrible rocks. Any such attempt must end in disaster. We must wait until the storm abates or daylight breaks." Shortly after midnight there was a partial lull in the tempest, which gradually calmed down as the hours wore on towards morning.
With the first streak of dawn a coble put off to the ship, which was now seen to have grounded on a flat rock about two hundred yards from the shore.
Quickly the coast-guards scaled the ship's side, and scanned the deck from stem to stern, but no sign of human life could they see. Hurrying down, into the after-cabin, a strange sight met their gaze.
Everything was in complete order, and perfectly dry. A large open Bible was lying on the table, and a: watch ticking away by its side. A cat was quietly sitting by the stove, and a canary bird was cozily perched in his cage, but no other signs of life. Continuing the search forward, they met with no better success, there was not one living soul on board. The gale had cleared the decks completely, but all below was dry and undisturbed.
No need now to ask why the appeal from the shore was unanswered. But why did they leave the vessel, where they might have remained with the utmost security? and where were the crew? A man was left in charge of the abandoned ship, and the news was quickly conveyed to the shore.
About mid-day the receding tide left the vessel high and dry, and as we walked around her, and examined her desolate decks and her shattered timbers, we thought of the folly of building one's hopes upon anything in the present scene.
Dear reader, have you ever thought of the wreck-age the prince of this world is making, not with stranded vessels, but with human souls? When this beautiful three-masted barque left her moorings, after receiving her cargo, with her sails gaily spread to the breeze, and everything on board in neat and trim condition, little dreamed the captain and crew of such an ending to their voyage. You may be young, just entering on life's voyage, your buoyant spirit sees no breakers ahead, you joyously picture out a smiling future,—wealth, fame, honor, position, spread themselves out before you, and the prospect looks fair. Pause, dear friend, 'who is that presents this brilliant future to you? (Luke 4:2-12.) Dare you trust him, “who is a liar from the beginning," who plots your destruction? (1 Pet. 5:8.) You will find the commencement of his course in Gen. 3:1-5, what he has been doing ever since in Eph. 2:2, his final doom and destination in Rev. 20:10. Surely you will never engage yourself to such a master. The very best he can give you, dear unsaved one, however dazzling it may appear, is only like the mirage in the desert, which lures the thirsty traveler on, but never quenches his thirst. Many a promising youth, listening to his "radiant lies," has been led on, step by step, down to the dark shores of infidelity and despair. Listen early to Wisdom's voice; walk in her paths, and you will know what true pleasure is (Prov. 8).
And what about the crew of the ill-fated vessel? Ah! the briny ocean soon told its sad tale. Next day a little boat belonging to her was picked up; and during the next succeeding days the treacherous sea yielded up its prey,—one here and another there, within a radius of a few miles along the coast, the bodies of the poor fellows were washed ashore. And now the facts spoke for themselves,—the sailors, finding themselves amongst rocks in a raging sea, had deemed it wisest to abandon the ship to its fate, and trust to their boat landing them on the shore. Vain hope, and yet, humanly speaking, it was what most would have done under the circumstances. Had they remained in the vessel, they could have walked ashore dry-shod the next day.
We know not what may have transpired before they left the ship. Doubtless they held a solemn consultation before they took the fatal step. It touches a chord in our hearts as we think of that open Bible on the cabin table. Had they held a prayer-meeting? Did they commend themselves to God and the word of His grace? (Acts 20:32.)
Were they all, or any of them, “children of God by faith in Christ Jesus?” These questions must be left for "that day" to declare (2 Tim. 1:12). Not one was left to tell the tale as to why, when, or how they abandoned the vessel. Clearly their safety consisted "in abiding in the ship," as in another case (Acts 27:31), but they left the place of safety and perished. Such is man's wisdom at its best (1 Cor. 2:6).
Dear reader, there is no need for you to be lost in eternity's fathomless waters, for loud and clear above the tempest's roar ring the clarion-notes of the voice of the SON OF GOD—" God so loved the world." “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." “Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out” (John 3:16 Matt. 11:28; John 6:37).
The crew numbered thirteen, of whom the most were fine young stalwart men. Friends, were communicated with, and those who were able to come had the mournful duty of following their loved ones to the village churchyard, where their bodies rest till the resurrection. Others of them who had no friends were quietly laid by their side.
There were few tearless eyes in the simple but sympathizing funeral cortege that day, as they slowly wended their way around the Point where the little churchyard lay (Eccl. 7:24).
Dear young friend, in the face of a picture like this, which would you choose,—Satan's glittering bubbles, or heaven's solid realities? earth's honors, fame, wealth, morality, and religion without Christ, or glory, honor, and immortality with Christ?
Just as surely as the mariner has to face the gale in his journey across the trackless deep, so surely will your foundations be tested when the withering blast of God's holy judgment bursts upon you in all its relentless fury. How will your frail vessel of human hopes meet the storm? or where will you find a haven for your poor shipwrecked soul in the day that is coming apace?
Dear friend, choose Wisdom's unfading treasures, which in all their solid grandeur are held out today for your acceptance. Take Jesus at His word (John 5:24); come to Him in your rags (Isa. 64:6), your guilt (Eccl. 3:15), your wretchedness (Luke 15), your need (Heb. 9:22), and you will be AT ONCE translated out of the kingdom of darkness into the kingdom of God's dear Son (Col. 1:13). Instead of being a poor shipwrecked slave of Satan, with the judgment of God overhanging you, you will be a MILLIONAIRE of glory! (Rom. 8:17; 1 Cor. 3:21-23.)
Happy are you if you thus listen to Wisdom's voice, “For her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace” (Prov. 3:17).
G. F. G.