In one of Dwight L. Moody's meetings, a man once raised his hand. The evangelist went to him and said:
"I am glad you have decided to be a Christian."
"No," said the man, "I have not; but I will later on."
He gave his name and address and Mr. Moody visited him when he was ill and pleaded with him to decide for Christ.
"No," said the man, "I won't decide now; people will only say I was frightened into making a decision."
He recovered; but later suffered a severe relapse; and Mr. Moody visited him again.
"It's too late," said the sick man.
"But," Mr. Moody replied, "there's mercy at the eleventh hour."
"Mr. Moody," replied the man, "this is not the eleventh hour; it is the twelfth."A few hours later he was dead. Said Mr. Moody: "We wrapped him a Christless shroud, we put him in a Christless coffin, buried him in a Christ-less grave, and he went to spend a Christless eternity."
Just as thou art, without one trace
Of love, or joy, or inward grace,
Or meetness for the heavenly place,
O guilty sinner, come.