SOME years since, three men were accustomed to meet together with the object of seeking to persuade each other that there was no God and no eternity. Especially were they anxious to persuade themselves that there was no judgment to come, and that therefore they had nothing to fear for the future.
Conscience, no doubt, often gave the lie to their reasonings and false hopes; for a man never says in his conscience “There is no God,” however much the fool may say so in his heart.
These three men were, however, unable to persuade themselves that there was no death, nor yet to escape its relentless grip; for one of the three was called soon to give account of the deeds done in the body.
As death stared him in the face in its dread reality, his infidel theories failed to satisfy him, or to calm his fears. On the contrary, he began to find that he had been indeed a fool, and in anguish of soul he looked forward to that lost eternity which was now so real to him.
One of his friends named Sam― visited him when dying, hoping to persuade him to stand firm to his infidel delusions, but the dying man turned to him with these terrible words― “Oh, Sam! Sam! I’M A LOST MAN.” His friend― whether through sheer hardness, or in the spirit of bravado, I know not―replied to him (beginning with an oath), “Bill, don’t give up now, man.”
But Bill had to “give up.” He had soon to “give up” that breath which he had used to deny the truth of God; he had to “give up” that life which had been spent without God and without hope in this world. Christless he entered eternity.
Not only so, but his brave friend, within one Short week after witnessing the death, of his companion, had himself to “give up,” for Sam― died suddenly a week after Bill, and joined him in that eternity of woe where all infidelity finds its doom.
The third man is still living: an old man now, and hardly daring to profess infidelity, and yet going on apparently careless and hardened. The mercy of God still lingers in his case, as in that of many a poor deluded infidel, and lifeless professor who has the form of godliness, but denies the power of it.
But God’s long-suffering is not forever: death claims its victim some time, and the door of mercy is then closed for eternity.
It is equally true of every child of Adam as well as of the poor infidel, that he is “a lost man”; and you, dear reader, whoever thou art, must make the all-important discovery some day. Never canst thou know thyself saved, without first learning and owning that thou art lost. Nothing less than this describes thy true state before God by nature; but, thank God! it is also true that for the salvation of the lost, and none others, the Son of God came into the world as Saviour, ―even as He Himself said, “The Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.”
One of old truly said, “They that go down to the pit CANNOT hope for thy truth.” Yes; reader, there is a place where no ray of hope ever enters. Once there, hope is gone forever; naught is known there but remorse and despair, for it is the region where―
“Light shall revisit thee no more,
Life with its sanguine dreams is o’er,
Love reaches not you awful shore―
Forever sets thy sun.”
But God is not willing that thou shouldst perish. Has He not at infinite cost to Himself provided a Saviour? Was it not His own blessed and eternal Son who, as man, and for man, died upon the cross? Was not the full weight of the holy judgment of God against sin borne by Him there? There He finished the work, and God has accepted Him, the perfect sacrifice, and raised Him from the dead. To Him every knee must assuredly bow: through Him is now offered to thee and to all, the eternal forgiveness of all sins. There is no other Saviour, and no other way of escape from the torments of hell, but by receiving Him with all the confidence of thy heart, and confessing Him with thy mouth as THY Saviour.
What but His finished work of infinite value before God could remove a single sin from God’s sight or give acceptance before Him?
Hast thou availed thyself of it, dear reader, by believing on Him to Me eternal? or art thou content to go on and make the fearful discovery when it is too late that thou art “a lost man”?
“You who laugh, and scorn, and sneer,
How will you do?
When the trumpet’s blast you hear,
How will you do?
Can you then God’s terrors brave?
Say you have no soul to save?
When you sink beneath the wave,
How will you do?”
M. A.