IT is too late now, and I wish you to talk no more to me on the subject.”
These words were spoken by an aged relative, on whom I had been pressing the importance of accepting God's offer of pardon, through the finished work of Christ.
G— was learned in the wisdom of this world, he had studied nearly every science; but to him that word might have been applied, “The world by wisdom knew not God." He had read numerous skeptical works, and their false arguments had taken hold of his mind, and led him to reject God's word. Now, however, he knew that this life must soon close for him; and, as he saw others resting happily in the love of a well-known Savior, and looking forward with certainty to a joyous eternity, he felt, by contrast, the sad uncertainty of his own future, and longed for peace like theirs. But though he tried hard to believe the story of God's great love to us sinners, doubts of its truth would constantly arise to hinder him. He fought against these doubts, argued against them, in his own mind, but all in vain; they are more easily acquired than got rid of.
O you who are trifling with skepticism, letting in the thin end of the wedge of infidelity, beware!
You think yourself safe, you trust in your reason to keep you from going too far, but so have many others, who, ere they knew how far they had wandered, had gone over the terrible precipice, and awoke to find all solid ground gone from under their feet, and nothing but doubts and uncertainty left. There is nothing so insidious as rationalism so-called, and, let me add, there is nothing so irrational. What would not dear G— have given now never to have read those books.
On this occasion I had been speaking to him about his soul, and he had told me that he could not believe the Bible; that he expected, and desired, nothing but annihilation at his death, and that he would even prefer that to heaven; he had added, “I may be mistaken, I cannot tell, but I hope and believe that that will be my end; I may be wrong, but it is too late now, and I wish you to speak no more to me on the subject. "Sadly I replied," I shall do as you wish, but, dear G—, you will understand why I have been urgent upon the subject? What is all uncertainty to you, is to me a terrible certainty; to you it is a leap in the dark, but I see the awful misery you are leaping into; and what can I do but urge you to beware, before it be too late, and the fatal leap be taken?”
But as long as he was in the land of the living it was not "too late," as he had said, and many were the prayers which the Lord's people sent up, that he might be saved. And God does answer prayer, whatever infidels may say to the contrary.
A week passed, and the subject of our conversation had not been alluded to by either of us, when during the night, G—got an attack of difficulty in breathing, to which he was subject of late, and in the midst of it he gasped out to his daughter, who stood near, " I can't think, and I can't talk, nor pray, but—”
“You need not talk or pray, but only believe,” she replied.
“I do believe, thank God," was his answer.
A few minutes later I stood by his bedside, and he said, “I was sure, C—, you would wish to hear it's all over, and that I have accepted—”
Breath failed him, so I asked what Christ did for him on the cross.
“Yes," he replied; and then after a pause, " What a fool I've been; I wonder how I could not see before what now is so clear." Ah! how I rejoiced, as he thus spoke, that it was here, on earth, that he awoke to the folly of rejecting Christ, and not where it will be too late, in " the blackness of darkness forever." Others will exclaim, amid" weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth," “What a fool I've been! what a fool I've teen!" but then, indeed, it will be "too late;" there will be no place for repentance, and they must endure for evermore the consequences of their folly. Thank God, G— found it out whilst it was still "the day of salvation;" and, looking at himself from God's point of view, all his learning, and everything of man, sank into insignificance, and only the folly of rejecting Christ remained.
After a while he spoke of the joy of meeting all his Christian relatives above; for now that he had found Christ, annihilation was no longer preferred to heaven, the joys of which can only be really appreciated by those whom the Lord has redeemed for to the man of this world heaven would be misery.
He then whispered to me to speak of Christ, as it might be blessed to the Roman Catholic servant, who was present. How soon does the new-born soul seek that others also might be saved! A few months later G— had gone home to Him who had loved him, and given Himself for him, and was tasting the joys of a blessed eternity, instead of having forever ceased to exist, as he had once hoped would be the case.
Reader, where will your eternity be spent?
C. R. B.