Yourself, or the Savior

 •  4 min. read  •  grade level: 6
 
Two young officers stood talking earnestly together one day. Both their wives had been desperately ill, and they were congratulating each other on the satisfactory progress toward the complete recovery of their loved ones. One of them, Major Hanson, said with much feeling, "If Mrs. Hanson had died I really think I should have gone mad!"
They had not stood there long when a servant from Major Hanson's house came running down the street looking for him. When she reached him he saw by her face that something serious was the matter. With trembling lips she said, "Will you please, sir, come home at once?"
Instantly he guessed the worst. "Is she dead?"
"Yes, sir, she is." And the crushing blow had fallen.
Frantically he rushed home and found it was all too true: she who was all his heart so suddenly snatched away! A few minutes before he had promised not to be long from her side. Nor was he; but he returned too late to hear her voice again on earth.
Where had she gone?
Ah, that was the question!
Oh, to heaven, of course! At least, such was his thought. But at this time he was himself only a godless, worldly man, and had no idea of what true fitness for heaven consisted in.
"My only chance of seeing her again is to go to heaven myself," he thought; and accordingly he set himself to work at once to secure an entrance there. He had previously been the very life of gay, fashionable circles, but he would give up all this kind of thing now and prepare himself for heaven. His own sister, herself converted afterwards, remarked that she thought the way he so thoroughly "cut them" all was "quite cruel of him."
After a time he began to think that he was making pretty satisfactory progress in the right direction, and he decided to speak to others about what he now regarded as the all-important matter. But what could he say? And that settled, with whom could he have a bit of religious talk?
There was a young soldier in the barracks, his own groom, who was, he thought, leading a good life. With him, therefore, he might venture to talk about going to heaven.
His servant listened for some time to what he had to say, and then very quietly and respectfully said something like this, "I am going to heaven, sir, but we are not both going the same way."
"What do you mean?"
"The only way I know of getting to heaven is through the merits of the Lord Jesus Christ, and you seem to be trying to get there through your own."
The officer lost his self-possession and said angrily, "You mind your horses and let me mind my soul."
He walked away, but, thank God, not to rest. He could not rest! He thought, "What did the fellow mean by talking to him in that way? If he was not on the right track, who was?"
It occurred to him to go to some clergyman and tell him of the audacity of his servant in speaking to him as he had. In the mercy of God he chose one who was himself taught of God, and had found refuge in Christ. This godly man thoughtfully listened to all he had to say, and then remarked, "It seems to me, Major Hanson, that the young soldier is right and you are wrong. God has only one way of taking us to heaven, and that is through the precious blood of Christ."
In despair he cried, "What must I do then?"
"You must come to Christ: He will receive you. He has promised, 'Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out.' "
This was enough. He hurried home and, casting himself before God, rested all his hope of blessing on the merits of Christ. How truly he could say:
"I came to Jesus as I was,
Weary and worn and sad;
I found in Him a resting place,
And He has made me glad."
Major Hanson had discovered what every one of Adam's race must one day discover: that sincerity, however fired with religious zeal, is not of itself sufficient to secure a title to the glory. He discovered it in time to correct his mistake. But many will wake up in hell to discover that all their religious zeal and energy has been of the devil.
Now there may be as little question about my reader's earnestness as there was of this officer's. But mark well: SINCERITY IS NOT ENOUGH. Sincerity for the future can no more atone for the sins of the past than the calm weather of today can repair the effects of the storm of yesterday. Nor could a whole lifetime of sincerity and good behavior by any possibility atone for one single sin of the past.
"Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears forever flow,
Nought for sin could ere atone
But Thy blood and Thine alone."