AA PIOUS sailor, on board the steamboat Helen McGreggor, in 1830, was ordered by the Captain to assist in handling freight on the Sabbath; which he objected to do, because he wished to keep the Sabbath. “We have no Sabbaths here at the West,” the Captain replied. “Very well,” said the sailor, “wherever I am, I am determined to keep the Sabbath.” After a few more words, the Captain settled with him, and he left the boat. He was soon offered higher wages, if he would come back; but he refused. In a few days, he shipped at New Orleans for Europe. The first newspaper he took up on his arrival contained an account of the terrible disaster which happened to this boat soon after he left it. On the morning of the 24th of February, 1830, sheburst her boiler at Memphis, Tenn., and nearly one hundred lives were lost. This dreadful disaster he had escaped, by adhering, at all hazards, to his determination, wherever he was, to keep the Sabbath.
A PIOUS sailor, on board the steamboat Helen McGreggor, in 1830, was ordered by the Captain to assist in handling freight on the Sabbath; which he objected to do, because he wished to keep the Sabbath. “We have no Sabbaths here at the West,” the Captain replied. “Very well,” said the sailor, “wherever I am, I am determined to keep the Sabbath.” After a few more words, the Captain settled with him, and he left the boat. He was soon offered higher wages, if he would come back; but he refused. In a few days, he shipped at New Orleans for Europe. The first newspaper he took up on his arrival contained an account of the terrible disaster which happened to this boat soon after he left it. On the morning of the 24th of February, 1830, sheburst her boiler at Memphis, Tenn., and nearly one hundred lives were lost. This dreadful disaster he had escaped, by adhering, at all hazards, to his determination, wherever he was, to keep the Sabbath.
When George III. was repairing his palace, he found among the workmen a pious man, with whom he often held serious conversations. One Monday morning, when the king went to view the works, this man was missing. He inquired the reason. At first, the other workmen were unwilling to tell. But the king insisted on knowing; when they confessed that they had returned Sabbath morning, to complete a piece of work which they could not finish on Saturday, and that this man had been turned out of his employment because he refused to come. “Call him back immediately,” said the king. “The man who refused doing his ordinary work on the Lord’s day is the man for me. Let him be sent for.” He was restored to his place; and always afterwards, the king showed him particular favor. Here was a strong temptation to break the Sabbath, for the man’s employment depended on it. But he found it both safe and profitable to keep the Sabbath.
A wicked man said to his son, who attended the Sabbath School, “carry this parcel to such a place.” “It is the Sabbath,” said the boy. “Put it in your pocket,” said the father. “God can see into my pocket,” the little boy answered.
It is believed that more sad accidents happen to young persons, while seeking their pleasure on God’s Holy Day, than by any other means. A great proportion of the cases of drowning, among boys, occur on the Sabbath. One fine summer’s morning, two sprightly young lads started for the Sabbath School; but they were met on the way by some rude boys, who persuaded them to go and play with them by the side of the river. They hesitated for some time, instead of resolutely saying “No,” to the first temptation. When they yielded, it was with troubled consciences, for they were well instructed at home. They played about the river for some time, when one of them, venturing too near, fell into the water, which was deep. His companions were too much frightenedto give him any assistance, and he was carried away by the rapid current and drowned. Thus were these two boys punished for their disobedience to God and their parents.
A person being invited to go on an excursion for pleasure, on the Holy Sabbath, replied, “I should like an excursion very well; but I have but one Sabbath in the week, and I can’t spare that.” This expresses an important truth in an impressive manner. When we have but one day in the week exclusively devoted to the concerns of eternity, while six are devoted to the affairs of time, can we spare that one day for pleasure? It is the best of the seven. It is worth more than all the rest. If rightly employed, it will bring us a richer return. What we can earn in the six days is perishable; but the fruits of a well-spent Sabbath will endure for ever. The Sabbath, when properly spent, is the day for the highest kind of enjoyment. If, therefore, you would seek pleasure, you can better afford to take any other day in the week for it, than to take the holy Sabbath.
IA MAN eighty-seven years of age, meeting another aged man not quite as old as himself, the other inquired of him how long he had been interested in religion. “Fifty years,” was the old man’s reply. “Well, have you ever regretted that you began so young to devote yourself to God?” “O no,” said he; and the tears trickled down his cheeks. “I weep when I think of the sins of my youth.”
A MAN eighty-seven years of age, meeting another aged man not quite as old as himself, the other inquired of him how long he had been interested in religion. “Fifty years,” was the old man’s reply. “Well, have you ever regretted that you began so young to devote yourself to God?” “O no,” said he; and the tears trickled down his cheeks. “I weep when I think of the sins of my youth.”
Another man between sixty and seventy years of age, said, “I hope I became a disciple of the Lord when I was seventeen;” and he burst into a flood of tears as he added, “and there is nothing which causes me so much distress as to think of those seventeen years—some of the very best portion of my life,—which I devoted to sin and the world.”
This was the experience of David, who, in his old age, prayed, “Remember not, O Lord the sins of my youth.” And it will be the reader’s experience, should he ever be brought to a knowledge of the truth, after giving the flower of his days to the service of sin and Satan.
David
A—— M—— was an impenitent youth. His friend, who had just embraced the Saviour, in the ardor of his first love, besought him to turn to the Lord. He acknowledged the great importance of the things which were urged upon his attention; and said that, long before, the Spirit of God had called upon him, and he was “almostpersuaded to be a Christian.” Once he stood almost on the threshhold of heaven. “But now,” said he, “I am fallen, fallen—O how far! I know that I am not a Christian now. I am a great sinner. I have quenched the Holy Spirit. If I should die as I am, I know I shall be eternally lost, for I believe the Bible. You may think, because I am so careless now, I shall die unconverted. But no, I have more thoughts about death than many suppose.I mean to repent before I die, and become a Christian. I cannot think of dying as I now am; but you need not be concerned about me,for I mean to repent yet.” Not many days afterwards, he was crossing a river, with a number of others, for the purpose of spending the day in amusement. The skiff upset, and they were plunged into the water. All the rest of the company but A—— (who was the best swimmer among them), reached the shore. He was heard, as he struggled towards the bank, to utter a fearful oath, calling upon God to damn his soul. God took him at his word. He sunk to rise no more—a fearful warning on those who presume on future repentance!
“Go to now, ye that say, To-day or to-morrow we will go into such a city, and continue there a year, and buy, and sell, and get gain:“Whereas ye know not whatshall beon the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time and then vanisheth away.“For that yeoughtto say, if the Lord will, we shall live, and do this, or that.”—Jamesiv. 13, 14, 15.
“Go to now, ye that say, To-day or to-morrow we will go into such a city, and continue there a year, and buy, and sell, and get gain:
“Whereas ye know not whatshall beon the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time and then vanisheth away.
“For that yeoughtto say, if the Lord will, we shall live, and do this, or that.”—Jamesiv. 13, 14, 15.
OON Friday, the Editor of the New-York Commercial Advertiser, met a Mr. Storrs in the street and requested from him an account of an Indian adventure which he had heard him relate. Mr. Storrs replied, “I am going to New Haven in the morning. I will write it there and bring it down for you on Monday. You shall have it on Monday.” These were his last words. On Monday he was buried. Such is the uncertainty of all human calculations! Let the business of the day be done to-day; for no one is sure of to-morrow. Especially let the great business of life always be done, and then sudden death need not be dreaded.
ON Friday, the Editor of the New-York Commercial Advertiser, met a Mr. Storrs in the street and requested from him an account of an Indian adventure which he had heard him relate. Mr. Storrs replied, “I am going to New Haven in the morning. I will write it there and bring it down for you on Monday. You shall have it on Monday.” These were his last words. On Monday he was buried. Such is the uncertainty of all human calculations! Let the business of the day be done to-day; for no one is sure of to-morrow. Especially let the great business of life always be done, and then sudden death need not be dreaded.
On a cold day in the middle of winter, a carriage drove up to a minister’s house and he was summoned to attend the death-bed of a young man, who, in the midst of life and health had been just struck down by a violent kick from a horse, and was not expected to live more than a few hours. The blow had broken his skull bone, and cut out a piece as large as the palm of his hand, presenting a ghastly and horrible sight.
When the minister arrived, he found him just recovering his senses. The physician came soon after, and decided that there was no hope of saving his life. The minister, after saying a few words, and engaging in prayer, proposed to retire for a short time, to give the young man a little rest. “No, no,” he exclaimed, “do not leave me for a moment. I have but a short time to live, and I dare not die as I am. O what shall I do? Tell me quickly before the light of reason forsakes me.”
“James,” said the minister, “there is but one way in which a sinner can be saved, and that is, by faith in the Lord Jesus Christ;—whether anhour only, or years be allowed you, the only way for you to secure salvation is, by casting yourself unreservedly into the Saviour’s hand. Only his blood can save you; and you are welcome now, this moment. All things are ready—come now.”
The young man, with a look of anguish, replied, “Do you remember, sir, when I was putting up some shelves in your study, eight months ago, that you asked me to stop, while you talked with me about religion, and prayed for me? It was then that I felt that I was a sinner, and after going home, I endeavored to pray for myself, and determined that I would seek religion. Two or three days, these feelings continued; when, unhappily for me, I took up a book, which I had commenced reading before our conversation, and though conscience remonstrated, I went on and finished it. My feelings were much enlisted in the story, but when I got through I had no disposition to pray; and my anxiety about religion was gone. I resumed novel-reading, of which I had been very fond, and compromised with my conscience, by resolving that at the end of one year I would throw all such books aside, and seek the salvation of my soul. Only two thirds of that year are gone, and here I am dying! Fool, fool that I was, to sell my soul for anovel—to prefer the excitement of an idle tale to the joys of religion.”
The minister begged him, whatever had been his past folly and guilt, to look to Christ for the forgiveness of all. But while he was speaking, the young man’s reason began to fail. In a short time he was delirious. “Fool, fool!” he would exclaim, at intervals, and this was all he said. In this state of mind, death overtook him, four months before the period arrived, to which he had put off attention to the concerns of his soul—a sad warning to those who defer this first and great concern!
William G. was a young man in vigorous health and of ardent temperament, with great energy of character. His office was that of a brakeman upon the Railroad. A long line of freight cars had been delayed a few minutes behind the time, and must hasten to reach the turnout in season for the passenger train, which was expected to pass in a few moments. Two cars were to be detached; which, by a dexterous movement, could be done without entirely stopping the train. The moment the engine is slackened, the cars behind will gain a little upon those in front, when the connecting pin can be removed, and the hinder cars detached. This the youngman had often done before, and he sprang forward with alacrity to perform it now. But, in the path lay a pebble, so small as to escape notice, and yet large enough, as he stepped rapidly backwards, to throw him prostrate on the track, while the heavy-laden cars passed on over his body. It was the work of an instant, but it was done. There lay, mangled and writhing, the young man, who, not one moment before, was buoyant, healthful, full of enterprise and hope. There was no hope of his life. With one arm extended, the only unbroken limb in his body, he speaks: “I must die—I know it—I must die, but thank God I am ready to die. Yes, I am willing to die, if it is God’s will. And yet, I should like to live. My poor mother—who will take care of her? My poor sisters—and oh, mypoor dear Mary!Send for them—send for them. Send now. I must see them once more. I have much to say to them. Oh, my God, thy will be done!” They came, and there was such a burst of grief as is seldom witnessed. Yet, amid all this, he was calm. Not a groan, not a murmur had escaped him through the long hours of bodily suffering which he had endured, and not a murmur nor a groan did he suffer now, when the heart-strings were broken. He spoke calmly and clearly to themall, gave them counsel, bade each a tender farewell; then closed his eyes, and sunk into the sleep of death. What would this scene have been without the Christian hope? This young man had anchored his hope firm upon the Rock of Ages. It had supported him in the busy scenes of life. It now sustained him in the sudden hour of trial, when the pains of death seized upon him without warning. “Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his!”
Transcriber’s Note:Variations in chapter and section heads between the Contents and the body of the text have been retained as they appear in the original publication.
Transcriber’s Note:
Variations in chapter and section heads between the Contents and the body of the text have been retained as they appear in the original publication.