I WAS quite recently taking a meal in the coffee-room of a hotel in one of our market towns. A party had just left who might be described as somewhat gay and fast.
“I suppose,” said I, turning to the waitress, “that you get some of all sorts in a place like this.”
“Indeed and you do, sir,” she replied.
“And I suppose that the conversation you often listen to is neither improving to the mind nor edifying to the life. Has anybody during the years you have been employed in this service ever asked you—Where will you spend eternity?”
Somewhat startled by the unexpected question she said, “No, sir, it is the first time that question has ever been put to me.”
Christian reader, how solemn is this! Doubtless many truly converted people had passed in and out of that coffee-room, and yet never had this poor Christless soul had one word of entreaty spoken to her, nor one word of warning addressed to her.
“Pray, brethren, pray! the sands are falling;
Pray, brethren, pray! God’s voice is calling.
Yon turret strikes the dying chime;
We kneel upon the verge of time;
Eternity is drawing nigh!
ETERNITY IS DRAWING NIGH!”
I urged upon her the importance of this solemn matter, telling her that it was an absolute certainty that she had eternity to spend somewhere. She owned she was not ready for heaven. “Then,” said I, “if you die as you now are, it must be hell. And how awful that is!”
“It is indeed, sir, and I am sorry to say I do not think half enough about it.”
Pointing her to Christ and His work on the cross as God’s way of salvation for her, I left to catch my train. It was an arrow shot at a venture, and may God’s Spirit apply the word spoken, and cause that this precious soul may join in heaven’s redemption song.
And now, my reader, let me put this same question to you—Where will you spend eternity?
It may be that your mind is all filled with doubt and unbelief. Perhaps you do not believe that you have a soul; you may be one who scoffs at the thought of eternity. These skeptical views of yours are all very well in days of youth, health, and pleasure. But once let the bloom and freshness of youth, have passed, and you find yourself nearer to the end of life’s journey than its beginning; once let the vigor and elasticity of health give way to the weakness and weariness of sickness; once let those evil days come in which you will say, “I have no pleasure in them,” then your doubts and infidelity will prove you false, and you will find yourself like a drowning man vainly clutching at a straw for safety.
Your infidelity will not avail you when you reach the brink of death’s dark river. Never has infidelity smoothed the pillow of a dying man, nor ministered one grain of consolation to the departing spirit. Give it up then, now, while you are young, and spend the rest of your time here in seeking to win souls, and lead sinners to the Saviour.
Many young men think that infidelity is a fine thing. It is nothing of the sort, but it is wretched cowardice. Many things no doubt combine to produce it. First, the enmity of man’s fallen nature against God. By nature we all hate God, for God is light, and men love darkness rather than light because their deeds are evil. Men hated Christ when He was here, because He was light in the midst of abounding sin. Men hate the Bible, for that Word of God is truth, and shows up to us all the sin that is in us.
Secondly, not only do men hate God, but they love sin. They are ready to give up God rather than give up sin; they will give up Christ rather than give up sin; they will give up the Bible rather than give up sin; they will give up all hope of happiness hereafter rather than give up the pleasures of sin for a season.
Then, thirdly, there is the fear of man. Many a young man will courageously risk his life upon the battlefield, who would be positively afraid to stand up in an assembly of his fellows and read a chapter of the Bible, though he and every one of them might be perfectly certain the book was all truth. It is not profound thought that produces infidelity. It is hatred of God, love of sin, and fear of man.
But God loves you though you hate Him.
“Inscribed upon the cross I see
In shining letters, ‘God is love.’”
Yes, and He so loved the world as to give His Son to die for sinners, for you, dear reader, and for me. When once the knowledge of that Saviour’s love in dying for guilty sinners takes possession of the heart, then a complete change takes place.
“He breaks the power of canceled sin,
And sets the prisoner free.”
We receive a new nature, and whereas before we hated God and loved sin, now we love God and hate sin.
Do not be proud of your infidelity! No, no; but be filled with shame that you hate God, love sin, and fear the scorn of man.
“Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were an offering far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.”
A. H. B.