Being greatly edified and refreshed by these instructive expositions of the Word, we all hastened to proceed on our voyage; remembering the parting words of our kind instructor, “Be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only.”
One day shortly afterward, when sailing off one of those pleasant sunny isles, we overtook another sadly weather-beaten vessel, steering very unsteadily and apparently in great distress.
As we drew near, they hailed us with the inquiry, “What may be the right course to steer now for the Celestial Shores?”
“To what point is your compass now directed, and how are you steering at present?” asked our Captain.
“Our compass, we fear, is spoiled,” replied their chief officer, “for it suddenly flies around in all directions, from one point to another, as if it had lost its polarity: and is therefore quite unreliable: even if we could, with our very imperfect vision, see it properly.”
Thoughts. “Then do you not see the bright light right ahead, that is now reflected upon us, even from the Golden City itself?”
After gazing awhile, as they had been directed, they said they could see nothing, except a few hazy clouds. Then we perceived that their vision was indeed greatly impaired, so that they were almost blind. Having further discovered that this unfortunate bark was the Unstable, commanded by Captain Wavering, we asked them if they had passed through the Strait-of-the-Cross.
“Oh yes,” exclaimed Captain Wavering, with much enthusiasm, “for it was there, while passing through that blessed channel, and especially at the Cross, that we enjoyed so much true peace and happiness, such as we can never forget. Never since then have we been so happy, and we could wish it were possible to be back there again.”
Thoughts. “But how has it come to pass that you are now in such a sorry plight, as you appear to be?”
With many deep sighs, Captain Wavering tried to explain to us, by saying, “Soon after we left the Strait we unfortunately fell in with a great shoal of icebergs; and being foolishly attracted by their many bright colors and imposing forms, we alas lingered in their company for a long while until we were nearly chilled to death.
“All our officers fell sick, and then being unable to manage our boat properly, we drifted helplessly with the tide, for some time afterward.
“When after a while however—through the goodness and mercy of our King—we began to recover a little and were enabled to pass onwards through a part of the trying Conflict Channel, and beginning to hope that we were now in a fair way to continue our voyage successfully, we came to the lodge that stands at the entrance to the channel of Worldly-desires.
“There, alas! we listened long to the enticing talk of the old Porter, who shamefully deceived us; and in the end were induced to accept the services of some of his vile sons, the pilots, to escort us down into that treacherous channel.
“At first we were so carried away with the novelty and excitement of the place, in the midst of such crowds of vessels running hither and thither, that we forgot for a while all about the important voyage on which we had set out. But when we began to find out the character of the place, and its vain unsatisfying pursuits that always ended in dire disappointment, we became sick at heart, and deeply regretted having turned out of the right course. And when, moreover, we saw so many dreadful disasters and shipwrecks occurring around us incessantly, and especially the awful havoc committed by the dread King of Terrors among those pleasure seekers—so suddenly snatched away in the midst of all their worldly amusements—we became greatly alarmed; and then hurrying away with all the speed we could command, we left the place, trembling lest the spectral ship might be in full chase of us, to carry us down to the abode of death and destruction.
“But we have never been well, or at ease since then, owing to the severe chills we caught while in the company of the icebergs, and the maladies we afterward contracted in the impure atmosphere of that deadly channel. Our Captain has been laid up as a confirmed invalid for many months, and our pilot is quite paralyzed. Our sight too is so impaired that we can scarcely see anything; while vague and distressing terrors haunt us by day and by night.” No sooner had he uttered these words, than he shouted in much terror, “Ah, there comes our foe, the Phantom ship to hurry us away,” and when he had so said, they slipped away with the tide in great consternation.
As we were reflecting upon the distressing tale we had just heard, one of our late companions came alongside, to whom Mr. Thoughts remarked, “What a striking confirmation of the words of Mr. Experience we have in those wretched mariners of the unstable—now hurrying away in fear—as to the terrible consequences of being drawn aside into the ways of sin and folly, down in that channel of worldliness.
“Yes indeed, a sad spectacle to men and angels is that unfortunate vessel the Unstable, commanded by Captain Wavering, who has spent most of his precious time down in that soul-destroying channel of Worldly-desires, where he has been reduced to the miserable condition in which you found him. The officers and crew are all crippled for life; and though they may be saved in the end, it will be as by a miracle of grace. Certainly they will never realize the full blessedness of that glorious entrance into the everlasting Kingdom of our exalted Prince, which shall be “Ministered abundantly” to all the faithful overcomers.”
Setting a stricter watch than ever, and applying ourselves with greater diligence to sail and steer our bark aright, (in view of the solemn lessons we had recently learned) we now kept our eyes more steadfastly fixed on the grand point of attraction before us—our risen Lord—and along the line of golden light that came from the Holy City; thus animated more and more every day by the blessed hope of soon beholding our beloved Prince and of casting anchor in the glorious Port of Paradise itself.
We had not been sailing many days in this happy mood of expectation—with all our sails fully expanded, and filled with the balmy winds of heaven, steering solely by “the bright and Morning Star,” that shone so brightly in the heavens before us—when our lookout shouted the welcome news of land ahead.
The long-desired shores of the Celestial World were in truth gradually looming up above the horizon, and every eye was instantly turned in that direction, to catch the first glimpse of the heavenly land.
The announcement of the lookout had sent an intense thrill of joy through all on board, not unmixed however with feelings of deep solemnity and even awe, as we thought of the impending change, now so near at hand.
We had nearly crossed the perilous Ocean of Time; our one important voyage was drawing near to its close; the great problem of life was about to be solved; and some of the deep secrets, which had been hidden for centuries from all the voyagers on that ocean, were about to be unveiled to us in the eternal mansions prepared for us, and all believers, in the land of the blest.
Looks of much concern and not a little agitation were plainly visible upon the countenances of every one, such as had never before been experienced, as we began to realize our solemn position; in view of that most momentous crisis of our existence, which was now approaching: the step from time into eternity.
“Oh, how profoundly solemn, that great change,
From transient time to the eternal state;
The short swift flight, the momentary plunge
Into the vast and hitherto unknown:
Whence none have e’er returned to tell
The thrilling tale of that one final move;
Which once ‘tis done, ‘tis then forever done,
And seals the spirit’s fate eternally.
Who can conceive the horror of that hour?
When first an unbelieving, Christless soul,
Whose sins unwashed, and spirit still unchanged,
Takes that one final leap, while all alone;
Down into darkness, dreary and profound;
A naked helpless spirit, there to find
None to receive or cheer him, in that gloom—
Save vengeful demons, from the great abyss,
Who rush with speed to seize his wretched soul
And hurry it away to endless woe.
How sad his fate, how awful his surprise!
To find that all is lost, forever lost!
When all his fondly cherished hopes have fled,
And vanished then, forever out of view.
But mark the contrast in that dying saint,
The humble Christian, who on Christ relies—
Whose happy spirit wings its joyous flight,
Straight to the realms of bliss, and endless day:
And whose short passage, o’er the bar of death,
Is but a gentle sleep, his last sweet sleep:
Like infant nestling in its mother’s arms,
Who wakes to find itself enfolded there,
In perfect sense of safety, and repose.
So sleeps the saint, in Jesus’ arms secure,
And wakes at length, with infinite delight,
To find himself transported to the skies.
Borne by the angelic messengers of heaven
With shouts of welcome, and celestial songs,
Before the presence of the Lord Himself,
In Paradise, the center of all bliss.”
The many past scenes and vicissitudes of our eventful voyage now flashed upon us with wonderful vividness; and with overflowing gratitude we praised our Heavenly King and Prince Emmanuel for the many merciful deliverances we had experienced and the marvelous way we had been led throughout our whole voyage.
It was a calm and lovely evening (that will ever be remembered by us) as the day was gently declining, and a soft mellow glow of golden light fell serenely on everything around us, when we quietly drew near to the mysterious land, whence none had ever returned to tell the tale of their entrance therein.
The glorious Port of Paradise, and the Golden City, now gradually opened out before us; and as we gazed intently on the unfolding vision, we were filled with unutterable ecstasy.
All recollections of the trials and difficulties we had encountered by the way seemed to vanish forever like a transient dream of the night, in view of the sublime prospect before us.
But between us and the port, we found a shallow bar, stretched entirely across the entrance thereto, over which we must pass before we could enter into that Port of rest, our long-desired haven.
Upon that bar the rolling surge of the great Ocean of Time broke incessantly with a deep and mournful roar, that for a moment inspired some of our officers with fear, though it was but for a moment.
Both our Mates and Mr. Heart were deeply affected as they listened to the sad moaning of the surge and gazed upon the shallow bar, over which we had now to pass.
“‘Twas the mournful wail of a fallen world,
Thus telling its tale of sorrow and crime;
Of sufferings and wrongs unnumbered it told,
Which ever rolled down on the Stream of Time.
“The groans of creation finding a voice,
In the sullen roar of that moaning surge;
Repeating the woes of the human race;
And chanting the world’s sad funeral dirge.”
The tempestuous ocean over which myriads of immortal souls had passed, for weal or for woe, was now forever behind us.
And as we reflected on the stupendous fact that the eternal destiny of all those voyagers hung upon the issues of that one short voyage, which never could be repeated, we were well-nigh overpowered with the thought of the, momentousness of that one brief passage of life; so lightly regarded, frittered away, and trifled with, by the hosts of thoughtless mariners whom we had seen on our voyage.
Just over the bar which separated us from the Port of Paradise, there hung a peculiar cloud, which at first appeared to cast a gloomy shadow over its whole extent, imparting to it a somewhat dreary aspect.
But as we continued to look thereon, it began to glow with a soft beautiful light, reflected from the celestial city, that instantly dispelled its gloominess. And then we seemed to hear the sound of many voices in the cloud, like the rush of mighty waters.
With our eyes attentively fixed on the brightening cloud, wondering and waiting to know how we should cross this, the last barrier that stood between us and our desired haven, one of the voices in the cloud, like the clear sound of a trumpet, saluted us by saying, “Blessed are they that wash their robes, that they may have the right to the tree of life, and may enter in by the gates into the city.” Then another voice immediately responded, “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.”
The precious Cross, at which we had been forever cleansed and saved, instantly flashed upon us again, and we now realized more fully than ever the divine purpose, value, and blessedness of that wonderful act of “Washing our robes,” which had been accomplished for us as we came in by the Strait-of-the-Cross.
It was indeed the efficacy of that one perfect offering of the blessed Son of God that was to be our sole passport to glory.
Gethsemane and the hill of Calvary were once more before us, in all their solemn grandeur; and again we seemed to hear the loud cry of “It is finished,” that kept on reverberating through all the ages, telling out the blessed assurance of man’s redemption having been fully and forever accomplished, on that day of days, when the angels
“Clapped their triumphant wings and cried,
The glorious work is done.”
It was wholly by virtue of the work done on that ever-memorable day, and by nothing that we had ever done, that we had been “Made meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light.”
After pausing for a while in silent contemplation on the delightful words of heavenly assurance we had just heard, Mr. Heart (who had continued in devout prayer and communion with the Holy Presence, from the moment we had come up to the bar) was heard expressing, with holy enthusiasm, the happy confidence with which he had been inspired, at that supreme moment, saying, “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me, Thy rod and Thy staff, they shall comfort me.”
Whatever thoughts of fear we may have experienced for a brief moment on first sighting the bar, and the light shadow thrown across it, they were now forever gone; and no tongue could ever tell the deep stream of real joy and comfort that flowed out to us, from those surpassingly gracious words out of the cloud, and the happy assurance derived therefrom, as expressed by Mr. Heart.