The Fatal Resolution.

By:
IT is a dangerous thing to resist or trifle with the strivings of the Holy Ghost. There is a period in the history of every person when He works in the soul, convincing of sin and the need of salvation; but it is a fact that in multitudes of instances the Spirit is resisted, impressions are trifled with, the matter is delayed, until outside influences remove the soul trouble, the Spirit ceases His work, and the person is left.
Many say they can be saved when they like. This is a fearful delusion. No one can be saved when he likes, he must be saved when God likes; every one has his day of visitation, but every one does not avail himself of it; thousands neglect it, and drop into perdition.
The following authentic narrative, by a servant of the Lord, proves the truth of this: ―
“Lydia S―was the name of an amiable young lady of my acquaintance. She was the daughter of pious parents. On the cultivation of her mind considerable attention had been bestowed. Buoyant in spirit, and beautiful in form, she was the pride of her parents, the ornament of her circle, and the admiration of all who knew her.
“From her earliest years she had regarded divine things with respect, but it is not known that she was the subject of special religious impressions until the summer of 18―.
“During the months of July and August of that year her mind was solemnly impressed, and she felt that it was unsafe to continue in the neglect of her soul any longer. One morning especially, the first impression as she awoke was that she must embrace Christ then, and that her soul was in imminent danger of being lost if she delayed.
“She saw herself, as she expressed it, ‘to be a great sinner in the hands of a God of justice,’ saw that there ‘was no hope but in Christ Jesus, that in Christ there was a full and complete salvation, ―that He was ready and willing to receive her then, and that delay would probably be fatal to her soul.’
“She deliberated, she reasoned, she prayed, and finally made up her mind to the deliberate resolution that she would repent and accept the offer of salvation before the close of THAT DAY.
“She did not actually accept Christ then, but resolved that she would do it that day. The resolution was, as she believed, the solemn and deliberate purpose of her soul; and she felt a degree of satisfaction in the thought that the question of her eternal salvation was now so near a final and favorable adjustment. But the day had its cares and pleasures; business and company filled up its hours, and the night found her as thoughtless almost as she had been for months.
“The next morning her religious impressions were renewed and deepened. She saw, more clearly than before, the danger of her condition, and the necessity of immediate repentance. Sin appeared more exceeding sinful. She reproached herself for violating the resolution of the previous morning; and in agony of soul, better conceived than described, formed another resolution, as she expressed it, to begin religion before the close of that day.
“She had now taken, as she imagined, one step, ―had formed a solemn purpose, and had given a pledge to repent that day. The day passed away as before, but nothing decisive was done.
“The next morning her impressions were again renewed, and she renewed her resolution; but it was dissipated as before. And thus she went on resolving, and breaking her resolution, until at length her anxiety entirely subsided, and she relapsed into her former state of unconcern.
“About this time she went to reside in a neighboring village, and I did not see her again for about three months, when I was called at an early hour one morning to visit her on the bed of death.
“Her last sickness was short, of only five days’ duration. So insidious was its progress that no serious apprehensions were entertained as to its issue until about eight hours before her death, and no anxiety for her salvation up to this hour appears to have occupied her mind.
“About daybreak she was informed that her symptoms had become alarming, and that her sickness would probably be fatal.
“The intelligence was awfully surprising. It was a moment of indescribable terror to her soul. A solemn stillness reigned around. It was at the early dawn of day, net about the hour at which she formed whit she emphatically called THAT FATAL RESOLUTION a short time before.
“The opening twilight, the chamber in which she lay, every object around, brought to mind her former resolutions, and in a moment all the horrors of her situation filled her soul. She now saw herself a hardened sinner in the hands of God, ―impenitent, unpardoned, without hope, at the gate of death; her Saviour slighted, the Spirit grieved and gone, and the judgment with its tremendous retribution just before her!
“Awful case! Time, that was given her to prepare for eternity, was gone. The disease had made such rapid inroads, that her blood was already beginning to stagnate, and her lungs to falter in the work of respiration. Her distress became intense. She was forced to conclude her soul lost, that nothing could now be done for it, and for a moment she seemed in a horrid struggle to adjust her mind to her anticipated doom.
“But, oh, that word Lost! It was a living scorpion to her deathless soul. Her whole frame shuddered at the thought. She struggled again for life, raised her haggard eyes, and summoned every effort to pray.
“Oh, what agony did that prayer express! She called, she bogged, she importuned for mercy, until her weary frame gave way, and she sank into a partial swoon. A momentary delirium seemed then to distract her thoughts. She appeared to dream that she was well again, and spoke wildly of her companions, her employments, And her pleasures. Then a return of reason dissipated the illusion, and forced back upon her ‘the dread reality of her situation, ―just trembling on the verge of the pit, ―just sinking, as she several times affirmed, to an endless hell! At that awful moment her soul again summoned strength, ―again she cried for mercy, with an agony too intense for her weak frame, and again she fainted.
“It was now nearly noon. Most of the morning had been employed either in prayer at her bedside or in attempting to guide her to the Saviour, ―but all was ineffectual. Her strength was now nearly gone, vital action was no longer perceptible at the extremities, the cold death-sweat was gathering on her brow, and dread despair had settled on her soul. She saw, and we all saw, that the fatal moment was at hand, and her future prospect one of unmingled horror. She shrank from it. She turned her eye to me, and called on all who stood around her to pray once more to the God of mercy on her behalf.
“Turning to her distressed father, as he sat beside her, she exclaimed, ‘Oh! my dear father, cannot you help me? cannot you keep me alive a little longer? Oh, pray for me! pray for me!’
“We all kneeled again at her bedside, and having once more commended her to God, I tried again to direct her to the Saviour, and was beginning to repeat some scriptures which I thought appropriate, when she interrupted me, saying with emphasis she ‘could not be pardoned, it was too late, too late.’ And again alluding to that fatal resolution, she begged of me to charge all the youth under my care not to neglect religion as she had done, not to stifle their convictions by a mere resolution to repent; ‘Warn them, warn them,’ said she, ‘by my case;’ and again she attempted to pray, and swooned again.
“Her voice was now becoming inarticulate, the dimness of death was settling upon her eyes, which now and then in a frantic stare told of agonies that the tongue could not express. The energies of her soul, however, seemed not in the least abated. The same effort to pray was manifestly still continued, though it was indicated now rather bp struggles and expressive looks and groans than words.
“She continued thus alternately to struggle and faint, every succeeding effort becoming feebler, until the last convulsive struggle closed the scene, and the spirit of Lydia S―took its everlasting flight.”
W. H. S.