SOME years ago, after hearing an earnest appeal to the unsaved at a large outdoor meeting, I went through the crowd speaking to one and another about their souls. I remember one young man in particular to whom I spoke, who remarked, “Not tonight.” I remember, too, the smile upon the faces of his companions as I turned away.
A few months after, this young man was shot and instantly killed in a bar-room. Two of his companions had quarreled. One shot at the other, but missed his mark; the ball struck the wrong man, who had only time to cry out, “My God,” and to utter, besides, one or two words before he was dead.
Several years later I was at a large watering-place where frequent meetings of Christians are held. One day, while at a meeting where many were giving testimony for Christ, I was quite anxious to speak, and it was on my mind to relate the circumstance referred to. I stood so long in the heated room that I was obliged to leave it to get into the fresh air. I feared that my opportunity to speak was gone; but I got to a window on the outside, and, after a while, spoke as I desired.
I thought nothing more of this until a few days after, when I noticed a strange young man making himself quite familiar with my little boy, going so far as to purchase a kite for him, and keeping quite near him to see him fly it. I thought, by so often seeing him so near, that the man might be foolish. Quite late in the afternoon, as my boy had some trouble with his kite and I was helping him, the young man approached as if to lend a helping hand; but in a moment, as if he could contain himself no longer, he addressed me by name, saying, “Mr. F―, the remarks you made the other day about the young man who was, shot have so impressed me, that I have been unable to sleep. They have reminded me of the way I have been living, and of my responsibility to God. I fear if I should die I would go to hell.” I remembered that he stood beside me at the window, and I had heard of him as a bold, expert swimmer―one of the finest at the place; a stout, hearty, pleasure-loving man of leisure.
“What would you advise me to do?” he asked, in much distress.
At that time, though a quickened soul, I knew not the power of that Word which has since given me the full assurance of eternal salvation, ―the freedom wherewith the Son makes free, and the many precious things which the Truth brings; and, though I presented to him some of the Lordly precious words as to believing, yet they seemed to fall powerless from my lips, not having then become the power of God unto salvation to my own soul; besides this, I was so blinded by man’s additions to the Word of God, that I thought there was something to be done, and I commended him to the “revival service.” Whatever of error there may be in all this, I have good cause to believe he “found peace in believing” that night. Surely he went home rejoicing, and praising God, and in a loving way thanking me out of an overflowing heart; while my own soul was distressed and needy.
I have since had letters from him, which, though telling of failure, have not failed to speak in the tenderest way of his “dear Saviour.”
I write this as it may prove a warning to some hardened sinner, who may see that “he that, being often reproved, hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroyed, and that without remedy” (Prov. 29:11He, that being often reproved hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroyed, and that without remedy. (Proverbs 29:1)); and to show, too, how quickly God meets the one who heeds His call. With one young man it was “Not tonight”; with the other it was “Now,” “Tonight”― for he feared he might be in hell before morning.
Dear unsaved reader, will you be warned? Do you say “Not tonight,” as you turn upon your heel with a smile? Beware, lest thou too be cut off suddenly. Or do you cry from the depths of your soul, “What shall I do to be saved?” God answers, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved” (Acts 16:3131And they said, Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house. (Acts 16:31)).
R. T. J. F.