IT is fortunate for England that the cliffs of the south-western corner of this our island consist of very hard rocks. The shores of Cornwall have to meet all the breakers that roll in, year after year, from the vast Atlantic, driven thither by the prevailing westerly winds. Were these cliffs formed of earth and soft clays like Norfolk and Suffolk, they would have long since worn away, and there would not be much left of Cornwall!
In the course of ages even these hard rocks have been worn into all sorts of fantastic shapes, and often take the form of men or animals. The one shown in our picture jutting out into the sea, from certain points of view looks very much like A Knight in Armor with a helmet on; so that it has long been known as the Armed Knight. It is not far from Land's End. It is a wonderful sight, after a storm, to see the huge waves, one after another, dashing themselves against the rocks and retiring in a mass of seething foam. Lying right out in the sea is another large rock, resembling a wolf, and the lighthouse built on it is called the Wolf Light.
All along this coast these rocks abound, and at the entrance of the harbors as well. Hence the need of great care in bringing ships into port, more especially as some of the rocks are just covered with water and out of sight; to run on to one of these would mean certain shipwreck. What a picture this is of our life, and little do we know how many hidden dangers lie in our way! If we trust to ourselves we shall surely perish.
So the captain of a ship, when he nears land, signals by means of flags, “Want a Pilot.”
This is seen on the pilot's cutter, which has been cruising about on the look-out for vessels needing help, and soon the pilot is on board, a man who knows every inch of that part of the coast. The captain does not trust himself, so he puts his trust in another. Wise man!
I heard, however, of a captain some time ago, homeward bound for Plymouth, who was anxious to arrive there as early as possible; and, having been into Plymouth Sound many a time before, he thought he would save delay and expense by doing without a pilot.
But, unfortunately for him, when they got near the land a mist came down over the sea and shut out all sign of the landmarks on which he was relying. It was too late, now to signal, "Want a pilot," for he had passed the cutter some time before, and had refused their offer of help. There was nothing for it but to go on. Still, he thought he knew the way; but, alas! he was not a pilot, and in the fog his vessel Struck a Rock and soon commenced to sink. Ah! boys and girls, it does not do to think we know. How many a shipwreck has that led to, both of ships and also of souls!
The result was that several lives were lost, and the captain was afterward tried and severely punished for attempting to do without a pilot.
One day, my dear reader, you will want a pilot. Your voyage of life will draw near to its end-perhaps very soon, and perhaps very suddenly. Do you know of a pilot who can take you safely to "heaven's blissful shore"? You certainly have not been that way before, nor have you yet crossed the dark river of death.
But I can tell you of One who has. Jesus has crossed that dark river for you, and is now in heaven. And more-He is willing to safely pilot into that haven of eternal rest all who will put their trust in Him. Will you not hand over the helm to Him just now, and put yourself under His control?