SOME years ago I was returning to Edinburgh one Saturday evening from Musselburgh, where I had been addressing a number of Sunday School children. The long, old-fashioned third-class carriage of five compartments in which I was riding was thoroughly filled with travelers, and in the central compartment was a party of ten, whose general deportment showed plainly that they had been spending the Saturday afternoon in a somewhat festive manner.
They soon commenced to sing some Scotch songs, and I must admit they sang very well. The other occupants of the carriage, mostly Scotch, listened with attention to the well-known melodies which fell upon their ears.
At Portobello the train stopped, and the choral party got out, their places being immediately taken by others.
I happened to be in the last compartment of the five; and as the train moved off, I rose and said, “Fellow-travelers, I have noticed with what interest and pleasure you have been listening to the songs of your native land, and I would like to tell you a little about a song of my native land. I am not a Scotchman. I cannot tell you the tune to which the song goes, I will only give you the words of the song, assuring you it is a song of my native land.”
They all looked hard at me, wondering to what land I belonged, so I continued: “These are the words of the song. ‘Thou art worthy to take the book, and to open the seals thereof; for thou wart slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation. And hast made us unto our God kings and priests; and we shall reign on the earth’” (Rev. 5:9, 10).
“That is a very lovely song. It is the song of the redeemed in heavenly glory. That is the laud to which I belong. It is the land to which every Christian belongs. The Christian belongs to heaven. His Father is there. His Saviour is there. His home is there. His inheritance is there. And how beautiful are the words of this song, concerning which is said of those who sung it, that they sung a new song. It will be ever new; the song of redemption never gets old or out of date. The song of praise to Jesus the Lamb of God, who has been slain for sinners, and has redeemed them to God by His blood, ‘out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation’ will be eternally new. How many of us in this carriage really belong to that land, belong to Jesus, have been washed in His blood, and will be found by-and-by in everlasting glory with Him? If any of you have never yet been brought to know Him as your own personal Saviour, and been washed in His precious blood, let me urge you to lose no time in coming to Him. You will find He will receive you, bless and save you. He will cleanse you from your sins in His precious blood, for the Scripture says truly, ‘The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin’ (1 John 1:7). You will know the joy of forgiveness now, and will be able by-and-by to sing that song, ever new, the words of which I have quoted to you. The songs of earth all die away, but the ‘new song’ of heaven shall ever abide. Will you all help to swell its blessed strains?”
My little address was quietly listened to, with as much apparent interest as the previous singing; and, as I sat down, a danger signal in the line caused the train to stop quite suddenly. Silence reigned for half a minute; and then a voice from the compartment farthest from me, which was filled with working men returning to their homes, said, “Is he drunk?”
Another replied, “I do not think he is drunk. I think that he is a good man.”
Said a third, “He is not a wise man.”
“Why not wise?” said a fourth. To which the other rejoined, “Because he knows neither the time nor the place. Thae kind o’ things should be kept for Sunday.”
Another rejoined, “I am no sae sure aboot that. I dinna think it will dae us ony harm to hear aboot thae things on a Saturday night.”
At that moment the train moved off, and I heard no further comments; but I could not help reflecting on how the world shows itself to be the world in a railway carriage as well as everywhere else.
As to being under the influence of strong drink, the allegation might with truth have been laid at the doors of those who had been singing. The world likes singing, but it does not like to hear about Christ. When the gospel rang out in the second of Acts, the world said, “These men are full of new wine.” But Peter put them right, as he rejoins, “These are not drunken as ye suppose.”
I should like to know the “time” and the “place” where Christ and His blessed gospel will be welcome. Alas, the truth is only too patent; the world as such does not want Christ. It preferred a robber and a murderer to Himself when He was here upon earth. It wants not Him or His witnesses any more today than it did when they wildly cried, “Away with this man.... Crucify him, crucify him” (Luke 23:18-21).
Reader, are you still part and parcel of the world? Let me say this to you — The pleasures of sin are but for a season, their pangs are eternal. Life is short, eternity long. There is thirst in hell, but no water. Weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth, mark that bourne of the godless, not singing. No, there is no singing there. If you want to sing in eternity, you will have to come to Christ now; and I urge you to do it without delay. You cannot belong to the world and Christ too. There must be decision. Procrastination is fatal folly. Come to the Lord now, and get your sins forgiven and your soul saved; and then come boldly out for Him. Better far be a witness of Christ in the scene of His rejection, and His companion in glory, than be the servant of sin and Satan for time, and the denizen of an endless hell for eternity.
W. T. P. W.