A Special Word to the Reader

 •  6 min. read  •  grade level: 7
 
Dear Friend,
We do not feel happy in closing our volume for the year 1872 without making a special appeal to thee as to thy condition, thy destiny, and thy present practical career.
We desire ever to bear in mind that we have something more to do than to publish a monthly number and an annual volume of a magazine. We have a solemn duty to discharge to the souls of our readers. We have not merely to supply a certain amount of printed matter, from month to month, and year to year, but we have to deal faithfully with the soul of each one whose eye may scan our pages, from time to time. It is our earnest desire that our little monthly serial may prove a living messenger to the heart and conscience of each individual reader. We feel that our object as contributors, conductors, and publishers will be altogether missed unless the souls of our readers are livingly acted upon by this special branch of our ministry.
We would therefore, at once, put a few very plain questions to the reader, which we entreat him to answer in the immediate presence of the living God.
And, first of all then, we would ask—Art thou saved? Art thou sheltered from the coming judgment, by the blood of the Lamb? Art thou consciously resting on the solid ground of accomplished redemption? Hast thou peace with God? Is the grand question settled between thee and God? Canst thou say, without a shade of reserve, “I have gotten a title without a blot; a prospect without a cloud; and a Friend that never changeth?”
Say, dear friend, what answer does thy heart return to these pointed and weighty questions? Do not suppose that we are influenced, in putting them, by an idle curiosity, or a spirit of busy and impertinent intrusiveness. It is not so, as God is our witness. But we are deeply impressed with the unspeakable value of an immortal soul—the awful solemnity of eternity, and the horrors of a soul passing away into endless torment and misery. We cannot bear to think of it. It is too overwhelming. The thought of an endless eternity in the flames of hell is perfectly crushing to the whole moral being.
Ο reader, we cannot endure the thought of your going down into that dreadful place. It is our heart’s desire that you should flee, this moment, from the wrath to come—flee to Jesus the precious Savior who waits, with open arms and loving heart, to receive all who come unto Him. He assures you of a hearty welcome. Hear His own veritable words, “Him that cometh unto me, I will, in no wise, cast out.” Come, therefore, just as thou art, with all thy burden of guilt, misery, and wretchedness, come and rest in Jesus. Put thy whole case into His hands. Believe in Him, and all thy sins shall be forgiven for His Name’s sake, thou shalt have everlasting life, thou shalt be counted perfectly righteous before God, even as Christ is righteous.
Do come! We are privileged, as ambassadors for Christ, to beseech thee to come and be reconciled to God. We intensely desire thy soul’s salvation. And that is but a small thing to say. It is but of little moment for us to say— as we surely can say—that had we the universe at our disposal, we would gladly give it for thy precious soul’s salvation.
But this is not necessary. Christ has died to save thee. God desires thy salvation. The eternal Spirit is pleading with thee. Why delay? Why halt? Why hesitate? Time is short. Another year is closing. How many of those who saw the opening of 1872 have passed away before its close! What millions of souls have passed into eternity during these twelve months! And how canst thou, dear friend, tell how soon the summons may come for thee?
Oh! do not fling this paper away in disgust and impatience. Do not be weary of our importunity, we beseech thee. We do want thee to think of thy precious soul. If it were a question of thy bodily health, wouldest thou not listen to a Mend entreating thee to go to some eminent physician, or to go to Matlock or to Malvern, to Harrogate or to Buxton? If it were a question of thy worldly prospects, wouldest thou not listen to a friend entreating thee to insure thy life for the benefit of thy wife and family, or to make some provision for the future? Hew much more then when a man urges upon thee the momentous question of thy soul’s Salvation—a question in comparison with which all questions of bodily health and worldly circumstances are as the small dust of the balance.
But we must cease. We must go our way for this time; but ere we do so, we shall make one earnest request of the reader, namely this, Do not, we entreat thee, push these solemn matters aside; do not go on another hour without seeking a full and final settlement of this great question; do not pause till you are able to say, without one wavering thought, “I am saved.”
And, then, if the reader be a true Christian—a genuine believer in the Lord Jesus Christ, we would not close our volume without offering one word of earnest loving exhortation to him.
Beloved friend, let us remember the deep solemnity of the moment in which our lot is cast. Let us seek to be thoroughly in earnest. There is an urgent need of earnest, loving, working men. There is a terrible amount of cold indifference, of religious formality, of dead routine. Where is the burning zeal? Where the whole-hearted consecration to Christ? Where the men and women of one idea—and that one idea, Christ—His cause—His glory—His people?
Dear christian reader, do let us rouse ourselves from all indolence and lethargy! Let us seek to get our heart filled with sacred fire; our whole being divinely energized, so that we may go forth with a holy determination to dedicate ourselves, in spirit, soul and body, to the service of Him who gave His precious life to save us from everlasting burnings and make us eternally happy with Himself, in that bright and blessed world above.
Oh! Lord, revive thy work! Send out thy light and thy truth, and gather out to thy name a devoted, consecrated band to carry on thy work, and to wait for thy coming!