THE quiet little town of C. is a pleasant resort for visitors. During the summer months it is much frequented by pleasure-seekers, and especially on the Lord’s day. Trains full of young men from the towns and cities arrive at an early hour on the Sunday morning, much to the annoyance of the fishermen, who live quietly, and prize the first day of the week as a season of rest from their calling on the deep, to be occupied solely in the worship and service of God.
On a lovely Lord’s day morning, a company of young men arrived in the town to spend the day. Some of them went to bathe in the sea, and others sat on the rocks or amused themselves on the shore. Two young men of my acquaintance were among them. One of them was a bright and happy boy of fifteen, who had gone without the consent of his parents. He had been pressed to go by others in the party, and, after much persuasion, he went.
Unacquainted with the sea, he had, along with another, gone out in a dangerous place, and in a short time they were surrounded by the rising tide. A desperate effort was made to rescue them from a watery grave; and, at the risk of the lives of those who did it, one of them was saved, and brought safely to the shore exhausted and feeble. When they turned to look for his fellow, he was nowhere to be seen; he had been carried away in the heaving billows, and sank beneath them into a watery grave.
Never shall I forget that quiet Sunday evening when the train returned to the city without the well-known form of James G. His body was left in the depths of the ocean, and his soul was in its eternal dwelling-place.
Often, as I think upon it, it brings to my mind a picture of more dread realities; and tells me, again and again, how souls are lost eternally, and engulphed in the depths of hell—caught in the tide of that woeful eternity at a moment when they least expect it, and carried out from time’s fair shores never to return again. Engrossed in the scene around them, absorbed in the pleasures and pursuits of the world, they think not of eternity, until suddenly it encircles them, and they find themselves within its tide, without a way of escape.
Dear young reader, how is it with your soul? Are you wholly taken up with pastime and pleasure, forgetful that you must one day meet the living God? Are you today so busily living in the enjoyment of the pleasure of the world that you are unmindful of the fact that you must die? How sad will be your awakening, if it be to find yourself encircled by the waves of death, with your soul unsaved and your sin unpardoned! Who can tell how near that hour may be!
Today, the Son of God, with arms so full of power, and heart so full of love, is ready to save you. Tomorrow you may be beyond His reach, and lost forever.
There is a present and full salvation offered to you now. You are not to buy it, or weep for it. It is freely offered and pressed upon you. Christ died that you might have it. He died that you might be saved. O, then turn to God as a lost and helpless sinner: cast yourself upon His grace.
Flee from the coming wrath!
ML 01/20/1918