WHILE cruising in the far west in the year 1883, H.M.S. N—dropped anchor in the harbor of St Lucia, one of the most beautiful islands in the West Indies. There the orange, lemon, yam, bread fruit, and cocoa nut abound, indeed almost every kind or tropical fruit is found in this pleasant island. When thinking of it one is reminded of the lines referring to the island of Ceylon:
“What though the spicy breezes
Blow soft o’er Ceylon’s isle,
Though every prospect pleases,
And only man is vile.”
This is sad, but true. Yet this cannot only be said of Ceylon’s isle, but of every spot on earth where beauty magnifies the glory of God. Yes, St Lucia is a lovely island, but on its fair surface thrive the most venomous reptiles that the earth produces. They are found in the grass, in the paths, in the trees, and woe to the man or woman who walks out of the town after sunset.
There are flying serpents too, so called because of their habit of twisting their tails around the small branches of trees, whence they drop upon their victim, driving in their poisonous fangs. Others again await their prey coiled up in the long grass.
But the species of which I am about to relate a sad incident, with deadly subtlety lies in wait for the poor negro as he toils among the sugar canes. In the shades of evening it frequents the paths by which the laborer returns home after his day’s toil, and springs upon its victim. Death in two hours is the inevitable result. Then it will return on the eighth day to feed on corruption. How much it resembles that old serpent (the devil) whose fangs dealt death and destruction in Eden’s fair garden; the effects of whose poison you and I, reader, inherit in the shape of a fallen nature, of which death and corruption are the result. But blessed be God there is One who has “brought life and incorruptibility to light through the gospel.”
But to proceed: upon one occasion I went on shore to see a dear friend, who related to me the following incident: ―
Far from his residence there lived a poor negro with a large family, whose wages for his toil from sunrise to sunset were only seven shillings per week, which in great measure accounts for what happened. When at work in the plantation one day, a large serpent suddenly reared itself and darted at him, but he sprang aside and the snake only succeeded in striking the toe of his boot. Thinking no harm had been done, he hastened home. Soon symptoms of snake poison appeared, and he died, none suspecting the true cause of death. In these islands the negroes are very poor, and in this case, there being but this one pair of boots in the family, they went to the next who took the breadwinner’s place, with the same result, until five or six in the family had succumbed to the deadly poison. At last suspicion fell on the boots, and on their being cut to pieces it was discovered that a fang of the serpent had been left in the toe of one, which, protruding far enough to graze the skin, had thus dealt destruction to that family.
And now, dear reader, of what shall I use this as an illustration? We read in Genesis 3 that through the serpent’s subtlety our parents fell; henceforth in nature and practice man became a sinful creature alienated from the life of God, and from then until now the myriads who have been born and have passed off the scene, have been exposed to the poison from the fangs of the serpent in Eden. This has been the inheritance of us all. We have a fallen nature. “Wherefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin, and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned” (Rom. 5:12). Yes, ye fallen sons of Adam’s race, this is our legacy bequeathed from the Fall. But is there no hope? Yes, blessed be God for His unspeakable gift, there is. Oh listen, ye wanderers—listen, you “who go down to the sea in ships, and do business in great waters,” ye that fear not the tempest’s roar nor the bursting billows—listen, ye men who plough the mighty deep: —
“Salvation is of the Lord.”
The peerless Son of God said when on earth, “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up, that whosoever believeth on Him should not perish but have everlasting life” (John 3:l4, 15). O ye daughters of Eve, ye sons of a fallen race, would you be free and have a portion for your hearts and salvation for your souls? Would you lie down in pastures of peace and be led “the quiet waters by”? Come to Him of whom it is written, “He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of our peace was upon Him, and with His stripes we are healed” (Isa. 53). O ye tempest-tossed mariners who “see the works of the Lord and His wonders in the deep,” “who reel to and fro, and stagger like drunken men” in the storms of life, come, find rest by faith in the precious blood of Christ, that cleanseth from all sin, and learn, in the words of the poet, to say:
“My bark is wafted to the strand
By breath divine,
And on the helm there rests a hand
Other than mine.
One who has known in storms to sail,
I have on board;
Above the raging of the gale
I hear my Lord.
Safe to the land, safe to the land,
The end is this;
And then with Him go hand in hand,
Far into bliss.”
W. S.