IT was in the month of June, 1877, that a Christian doctor, still in the prime of life, and living in the small town of—, lay dangerously ill. He had known Christ as his Saviour for many years, and thus could look forward, even to death, quite brightly and happily.
He was attended by two medical men during his illness, and solemnly did he press upon them (believing himself, as he then did, to be on the brink of eternity) the necessity of coming to Christ. But they treated his message lightly, particularly one of them, while both of them impressed upon him that he must not talk.
Ah! well indeed would it have been for those two men had they bowed their hearts then to that tale of love, told them by one who earnestly longed and prayed for their souls’ salvation.
It pleased God, in answer to the many prayers of His people, to restore His beloved child to a measure of health and strength, and he rose from his bed of sickness as one who had known what A was to face death, and deeply as he felt the solemnity of it, yet he also realized, as he had never done before, what it was to have Christ with him through it all. And I would ask you affectionately, dear reader, if you were brought into the same circumstances as that doctor, if you were lying on what might be your deathbed, would you be able, as he did, to look forward calmly to the future and say: “I know and believe that Christ died for me, and therefore, come what may, I am safe with Him”? If not, I entreat you to come to that Saviour. He is waiting to be gracious, longing that you, vile sinner though you may be, should taste His love, and know, for your own self, the blessedness of His free and eternal salvation.
And now listen: Three months later, and in the same town, a young doctor is dying. Do you ask who it is? Ah! that very young man who treated God’s message so lightly is now to prove the consequences of his folly. Injured severely by a fall he lies there, and the doctors gathered round the bed pronounce his case to be hopeless. No medical skill has been spared, but it is of no avail, for the word has gone forth, “This night shall thy soul be required of thee.”
Only three days more have elapsed, and a gloom is cast over that little town, and in one of the houses in the principal street the blinds are drawn down, for that young man has passed from time into eternity. Do you ask “What about his soul?” Ah, what indeed? God only knows. Perhaps in the eleventh hour he may have been saved, but there seems little hope of it, and no one heard of another offer of salvation being made to that young man.
That young man, I doubt not, meant to come to Christ someday, when he had a “convenient season;” but as far as we know, that “season” never came. Come to Him now, I beseech you; own yourself a lost sinner, and you shall then prove the reality of having Christ as your Saviour. And, oh! I would solemnly warn you against trifling with God’s offers of salvation; remember, you, like that young doctor, will have your last chance someday, and if you refuse it, how dreadful will be the consequences!
But now God is still tarrying; He has borne with you in love so far. Oh, come to Him at once, and you shall prove how sweet is His peace, which passeth all understanding, and know that neither life nor death can separate you from His love.
E. C. R.