C. was a more than usually attractive girl, and had much in her to make her loved by those who knew her. She was often spoken to about being ready should the Lord come, but C. saw no beauty in that Peerless Person and put off the solemn question,
“What must I do to be saved?”
Satan had blinded her eyes, and deceived her heart; she would not give up the world and its passing pleasures, which were just opening up bright and attractive before her. She turned away, and claimed the world for her own. Solemn choice!
For a few months I heard nothing of my young friend; but one morning the postman brought me a deep black-bordered letter. C. was dead! Only nineteen! but not too young to die. The letter gave no particulars as to her end, but I afterward found that her friends had supplied her with works of fiction to amuse her in her dying moments. And as far as I could learn, there was no one to speak to her of Christ and His precious blood in her dying hours.
“Who could be fit to die if she were not?” said poor C.’s friends; “she went to church, and never did anyone any harm.”
Would these serve as a robe in which to stand before the holy God? He is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity, and cannot look upon sin. Did not He hide His face from His holy Son when His Son was made sin for us?
Dear reader, if death should come to you, as it did to poor C., would you be ready?