WE are not unaccustomed to hear tales of the self-forgetful devotedness of human affection, and as we think of them we say, "Yes, it was very beautiful, but what will not a mother do to save her child from perishing?" or, "It was a noble act, but how could a father stop to think of danger to himself when the safety of his child was at stake?" That even our poor human love should spend itself to the uttermost upon its objects seems to us only natural and right, but now and then instances of self-renunciation are met with, where no strong bond unites the one who deliberately gives up the only hope of rescue for the sake of the other, if only he may save him from perishing. Such cases make us pause to ask where the motive for the deliberate choice lay; surely it must be sought beyond the sphere of human affection, in the depths of a heart which has known the constraining power of the love of Christ.
As we write we think of one, young, happy, beloved, who made choice of death rather than life just at the threshold of a career which seemed to offer fair prospects only. This was not because life was not dear, not in blind heedlessness of the future, but from the deliberate conviction that he himself was, by God's mercy, ready for the great eternity which lies near us all, while the companion with whom his lot was cast, at the moment of terror and danger, was not ready.
It was the old story of a boating accident; two young men had gone out alone, their boat overturned, and, after a brief interval of bewildered struggling in the water, they found themselves both holding on, clinging for dear life to the slender mast. It was a frail support, too frail to bear their weight, and, as it sank beneath his grasp, one of the drowning men began to curse the ill-luck which had left them in such a helpless plight.
The bitter words of the scorner reached the ears of his companion, who grasped the other end of the mast, and told their own mournful, but unmistakable tale concerning him who uttered them. In a moment his resolution was taken. "We cannot both be saved," he said, as a sudden wave bore him nearer to his friend;" this poor mast will only float one of us, and if you sink as you are, you must be lost forever. Carry this home to my mother"—and he took his watch from his pocket—"and tell her we shall meet in heaven." Then, with one last look upon the face of his friend, he let go his hold and drifted away. No help was near; a few feeble efforts to keep himself afloat soon exhausted the young man's strength;
“And then, by toil subdued, he drank
The stifling wave; and then he sank.”
Sank, to rise no more, within sight of him for whom he had given his life; for but a short time passed before succor came to the young man who still held on to the drifting mast, and he was saved.
For two whole years the rescued man kept the watch which had been given him with such a solemn charge'; he dared not deliver it to the mother of his dead friend, nor did he tell the touching tale of his last moments to anyone. His lips seemed sealed as with an iron seal, yet still as he went about day by day, the picture of that bright young form sinking beneath the waves was ever before his eyes, and all the voices of this world's mirth could not drown those last solemn words of warning to him, "as you are, you must be lost forever," nor those words of confidence concerning his own future uttered by the friend who had so willingly died in his stead.
It was not until he was himself brought to God that the rescued man began to understand how much he owed to his friend. Then it was he found heart to tell the story of the Christ-like death. "Those were true words," he said, "terribly true—' If you sink as you are, you must be lost forever!’ Oh, my friend, you gave your life to save me, not only from the death which threatened us both as we drifted on the wide sea, but from the unspeakable woe of that endless death which must have been my portion if I had died in my sins. I know," he continued, as he handed the watch to the mother of his friend, and delivered his last message to her—" I know that his love for me was like the love of Christ." The mother could thank God, in the midst of her sorrow, as she heard the tale. God in His grace had enabled her son, in the hour of extremity, to be more than conqueror through Him whose love was a reality to his heart.