“I WILL repent on my death-bed!” Ah, what a delusion is this. Few really repent in their last hours―few truly turn to God when the hand of death is upon them.
A visitor called the other day at a house where a woman was dying. The person who opened the door would not at first allow an entrance, but after a little persuasion the visitor was permitted to go into the house.
“She is dying, and I do not think you can see her,” was the word given at the foot of the stairs.
“But,” said the visitor, “that is just why I do wish to see her. Can you tell me if she is saved?”
The answer was a very solemn one. “Why, as to that, she has been all her life saying she would come to the Lord someday, and now she is sixty-seven years of age.”
On entering the sick room, the visitor asked the poor dying woman about her soul.
“Lost, lost, lost,” was the awful answer.
“Oh! don’t say so. Remember the thief who was saved at the eleventh hour of his life, and Christ’s blood is sufficient for you; come to Him now,” pleaded the visitor.
But again the solemn, yea awful, words were repeated, “I am lost, lost.” And thus did this poor sinner pass into eternity.