THE last rays of the summer sun were lingering over a pretty and fashionable watering-place on the west coast of Scotland. The seashore and pier were thronged with crowds of visitors, who had come either for pleasure or health. Some were gathered in groups here and there; others sauntering slowly along, or sitting on the shore talking together, and enjoying the pure air, while bands of music, negro minstrels, and singers were plying their callings.
My thoughts went up to One—" yen glorified Man in heaven"—who alone could satisfy and refresh world wearied hearts, many of whom were to be found there.
With the desire to win some for Christ, I took my stand at a busy spot, where three roads met. A goodly number listened for fully an hour to the "old, old story," so wonderful, so divinely true—the story of that Saviour's cross of shame and agony—the story of His death to win life for guilty, godless, graceless sinners.
Many passed on indifferent; others listened for awhile, then sauntered off, as if it were a matter that really did not concern them in any way; some remained listening to the words of life.
Towards the close, four young marines, belonging to one of Her Majesty's ships which lay at anchor in the middle of the Firth, came forward, evidently bent on mischief. They pushed their way to the front of the little company, uttering fearful oaths and yelling.
A deep feeling of solemnity, amounting even to awe, crept over my soul, and I spoke to the young men solemnly about eternity and their sad and awful state. "Where will you spend eternity?" I asked.
“In hell," one of them replied, with a laugh, his companions joining, and each repeating the words, "In hell.”
“God does not want you to go there,” I continued; "He gave His well-beloved Son, to die, that such as you might not go there. Will you have Christ and eternal life now, as you are, and where you are?”
“We have made our choice, and mean to stick to our own way for the present, and trust the devil for eternity," was the awful reply.
“Come on," they shouted, "don't listen to these canting hypocrites any longer.”
Many in the company really pitied them, as they marched off arm-in-arm, singing "There's a good time coming, boys.”
Alas, they believed not “There is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death." (Prov. 14:1212There is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death. (Proverbs 14:12).)
Death stands at the end of "man's way"; waiting to hand him down to judgment, and a never-ending eternity in that fiery burning lake, where worlds cannot purchase one drop of water to cool the burning, parched tongue.
The meeting being over, and the crowd having dispersed, I went after the young men to try and get them to listen to the word of God. I found them about to launch a small boat, in order to row over to their ship.
Once more I solemnly warned them of the danger they were in, of going to that hell about which they spoke so lightly, and entreated them to accept God's saving mercy; but my words only called forth a mocking laugh as they once more rejected preferred grace.
The boat they were shoving off was a very small one, and they were enticing a boy to accompany them, offering him a shilling to row it back to shore.
I pointed out to them the danger they were in, venturing out on such unsafe craft, but was told to mind my own business; others also tried to persuade them to abandon the attempt, but it was of no use, they had made up their minds to have their "own way," and, with fearful oaths, dared anyone in the crowd—for a crowd had by this time gathered—to interfere with them.
Turning to the boy, I said, "You shall not go," and suiting the action to the word, I drew him away.
The four young men in their madness, and in a spirit of triumph, jumped into the boat, and pushed from the shore, waving their hands in glee.
It was evening, and quickly getting dark and we watched them for a time as their boa slowly moved away. I then used the opportunity to speak of God's love and grace to the company that stood on the shore, and certainly the solemnity of eternity awed the meeting, for the tears glistened in many eyes In the midst of the speaking we were startled by a piercing cry. We looked, but could only see a dark speck in the distance "Help! help!" we heard, and knew that the boat was upset!
What a moment of excitement on the shore now! Men's faces turned pale, women screamed, and boats were hurriedly launched to the rescue. Oh! how intense was the anxiety of those whose eyes were strained toward the point whence the cry for help came. The voice was that of one of those four young men. He was clinging to the keel of the upturned boat. But where were the other three? In eternity!
Scarce one short hour before, to the question, "Where will you spend eternity" had they one and all replied, "In hell!" and now three of them were drowned—passed from time into eternity.
As I stood that evening at the brink of that watery grave, its heaving waves seemed to echo the words, "We have made our choice, and mean to stick to our own way, and trust the devil for eternity.”
I have not since met the young marine who was that night rescued. The God of all grace and mercy had His eye upon him, and saved his life. I often think of him, and if this, the story of his deliverance, should meet his eye, if yet unsaved, may it lead him to Christ.
Dear reader, where will you spend eternity?