A YEAR or two ago I was staying for a few weeks at Margate.
One afternoon, I was sitting at the end of the long jetty, occupied with the various sights and sounds around.
All at once a loud splash was heard, followed by shriek after shriek. Quickly leaving my seat, I rushed to the edge of the jetty, and leaning over the parapet looked down into the sea. What do you think I saw? A little boy lying motionless on the surface of the water, and being gradually carried by the tide further and further away. He had been fishing, and having had a “big bite,” got so excited that he forgot how near he was to the edge, and fell over, and soon lost consciousness. What a pitiful object! What a picture of our own natural state! In danger without knowing it, and without any power to help ourselves. Truly, all would be over with us, unless salvation had come through another.
The screams which had alarmed me had come from the Title boy’s nurse, who, in her frantic terror, did not stop to think of the best way to save him; but taking hold of just anything which came to hand, she threw out to the drowning child first a reel of cotton, then a newspaper, then a walking stick; all of which were, of course, of no, use whatever, for each fell in the water a long way from the boy, nor could any of them have borne his weight, even if he had had the power to grasp them. Even a strong rope thrown to his side would have been of no value, because he had not the power to avail himself of it. He was perfectly helpless!
Will my young readers turn to Romans 5, and read there four things which we are said to be? “Sinners,” “ungodly,” enemies” (perhaps you are ready enough to own these three things, that you have sinned, and are ungodly, and an enemy of God), but now let us come to the fourth thing: “without strength.” Not only is the sinner deeply sunk in sin, but powerless to better his condition one degree. All his struggles can only increase the wretchedness of his state. But to return to our narrative.
While all this was going on, a gentleman had divested himself of his coat, and then, jumping into the sea, swam swiftly to the little boy, and lifting him in his strong arms, placed him safely in a boat which came up at that moment. Thus the child’s life was saved.
Yes “Saved,” but how? By his own endeavors? By the well-meant but ill-advised measures of the nurse? No; but by the strong arms of one who was both willing and able to save him.
I would ask all my young readers who are not yet saved, to remember that far greater danger to which they are exposed, unless the Lord Jesus has rescued them—the danger of judgment—eternal judgment. And I would invite them to come to the Saviour, and let Him save them. He is both willing and able. Why be lost, with such a Saviour close at hand?
ML 07/29/1906