"SEEK THE LORD WHILE HE MAY BE FOUND." THIS injunction implies-- ISA. lv. 6. 1. That the sinner's soul has lost God. God needs to be "sought." O, to lose a kingdom, that is but a trifle! but, to lose God! who can estimate the loss? The injunction implies-- 2. That God may yet be found by the soul. He may be found, so as to be the soul's own God, and so that the soul shall have all that constitutes his Godhead enlisted on its behalf to promote its everlasting blessedness. O, what an inestimable blessing it is, that God may yet be thus found by the soul. The loss is not irrecoverable. Help us, O help us, ye holy angels, and ye praise-skilled archangels, to adore the goodness that has made it true that the sinner's soul may find its lost God! Observe-- 3. That God must be "sought," if you would find him. He is hidden out of sight. Your sins and Satan's lies have concealed him from your view. You must "seek" him, if you would find him. O, will you delay your search? Surely there is not such madness in your heart, as to make your soul send out the echo---delay. Observe-- 46 4. That there is but one, out of the many paths in which the soul may move, which will lead it to its lost God. This way is a new way," a life-giving way, a blood-consecrated way. Jesus is "the way." Except you go by that way, you will be carried, in your search, only farther and farther from God. Let your mind go to God, then, by Jesus---that is, by faith in his work, and you will speedily---nay, immediately find God, and find him out as your own God, your Friend, your Father, your Portion, your "All." But, observe-- 5. That there is a time coming, and it is posting on with panting rapidity, when the soul shall never more be able to find God." Seek the Lord, while he may be found." Should that ill-fated time overtake you as a thief, it will steal you away from the possibility of finding God; it will rifle you for ever of the possibility of recovering the lost portion of the soul. O, think of this. Yes; it is possible for you to commit sins that shall be for ever unpardonable; and which shall consequently separate, throughout eternity, between you and God. While it is a glorious truth that there is not a sinner upon the earth---not one, whose sins God neglected to lay upon Jesus; yet it is a no less indisputable,---indeed, it is a sister truth, that there are millions of sins for which Jesus made no propitiation. He made no propitiation for the sins that sinners who have persisted in going down to hell, commit there. Jesus did not bear the sins of "the world," and of "hell" too. He did become "a propitiation for the sins of the whole world;" but his propitiation does not stretch beyond "the whole world," and cast its rainbow of mercy over the gloom of the place of woe. No, No. Dream not that it does, or first dream the Bible into a fable. The "end" of unbelievers is "to be burned." Heb. vi. 8. Their "end" is "destruction." Phil. iii. 19. The latter part of their being, their "end,” and not merely some middle intervening period, is to be consumed in the ever-enduring agonies of indestructible perdition. Well then, my deathless fellow-sinner, God cannot be found in hell. He will not there be to you a propitiated God. The moment that you quit the earth an unsaved soul, that moment you commit an eternally unpardonable sin. If you go thus to God to be judged, you will find him already an unpropitiated God. The sin with which you dive into eternity, never was laid on Jesus, never was atoned for, and never shall be expiated or forgiven; for "there remaineth no more sacrifice for sins, but a certain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation, which shall devour the adversaries." Heb. x. 26, 27. O, then, you may in hell weep oceans of tears, and fill the firevaulted place with your wailings and bitter lamentations; you may grind down your teeth with ceaseless gnashings; and you may make Vows, and utter supplications so numerous, that all the ink on earth would fail ere they could be written; it will all, all, be too late. The pit is "bottomless." Rev. ix. 1. The fire is "unquenchable." Mark ix. 43. The worm "dieth not." Mark ix. 44. The wrath "abideth." John iii. 36. The Saviour "dieth no more;" and without the shedding of his blood there never can be remission of your hell-committed sins, unless God shall cease to be "just when he justifies." Heb. ix. 22; Rom. iii. 25, 26. O "seek, then, the Lord, while He may be found." Kilmarnock. THE DYING PEASANT GIRL. A CHAPTER FOR THE YOUNG. J. M. MY DEAR YOUNG READERS,—I dare say you are accustomed to think that dying is a very gloomy thing, and, therefore, when you first read the title of this chapter, you were ready to pass it by as but a melancholy subject. But I wish to show you---and, if you will read on, I think you will begin to believe---that the time of dying may be a very happy time, and that death itself need not be dreaded. There is something you may know that takes away the fear of death. It was my great privilege, some time ago, to be very often at the bedside of a dear dying girl; and I assure you it was one of the most happy places I ever visited, and this young person was in the most happy state of mind that can almost be imagined. The peasant girl lived in one of the villages of the beautiful county in which I reside; her father and mother were poor people, and lived in a small cottage on the side of the village street, opposite the school-house in which Sarah (for that was her name) used to spend her Sabbath days with so much delight. She had been a Christian-that is, a converted person, for many months before she left this world; and, though very delicate for a long time before her death, yet we were not distressed, because our sorrows could not flow when we believed that she had something in her mind which would make her triumph even in death. She continued to attend school until within two Sabbaths of her decease: but I shall pass over all other matters, and bring you at once to those eight or nine days that she lay upon her dying bed. And what I wish to show you is this: First-that she was most unspeakably happy in dying; Secondly—that she was so happy, because she was believing a happy truth; and, Thirdly-that if you will only believe the same truth, you may enjoy the same happiness just now, and when you come to die. One Sabbath morning, in the spring of the year, we, her teachers, went to the school, as usual; but, on looking round upon the children, I saw that young Sarah was not there. The lady, who was the teacher of Sarah's class, therefore called to see her in the afternoon, and found her very poorly, but not yet dangerously ill. On the Tuesday after she sent to tell us how much worse she had grown, and said she longed to see us. Her teacher went immediately, and thought that a great change had taken place in her appearance, and that she was in a rapid decline. But her mind was happy, very happy. On asking if the Bible should be read to her, she said, "O yes, if you please, read that part of 1 Cor. chapter xv. where it is said, O grave, where is thy victory? O death, where is thy sting?" When her teacher asked her why? she said, "Because it was a sermon preached from those words, nearly two years ago, that first made me anxious about my soul; and I never can forget them." When this portion had been read to her, she askedNow will you read to me about the dying thief?" And as the portion was read, she applied it to herself, and prayed-" Lord, remember me!" Soon after, she added-" I've been thinking of that passage, All things work together for good to them that love God:" adding, "I feel that I'm in God's hands; and let His will be done." On saying this, she began, in a sweet tone of voice, and with a happy smile on her face, to express her feelings in the following Hymn : 'Tis religion that can give Sweetest pleasures while we live; "Tis religion must supply Solid comfort when we die. After death, its joys will be Be the living God my friend, Then my bliss shall never end. When she had finished, she said, "There is another very nice one on the same subject;" and then she uttered the lines which follow: Religion is the chief concern Of mortals here below; May I its great importance learn Its sovereign virtue know. More needful this than glittering wealth, Not reputation, food, or health, Can give us such repose. And then, with great emphasis, she added:--- Or for an early tomb. Thus happy was Sarah herself in prospect of an "early tomb." The next day, Wednesday, I called upon her myself. I found her propped up with pillows, and seemingly in deep decline. She was evidently sinking fast. Her cough was very painful to herself, and distressing to others. I said, as I entered, "I'm sorry, Sarah, to see you so ill." Yes, sir, I'm very ill,” she replied, "but I trust I'm ready to die." Well, Sarah, I rejoined, "and what makes you feel ready to die?" She replied---" Because I'm resting on Jesus, who died for sinners: and I know that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin." 66 Much more did she say during this visit, which I have not room to write down here. But what I have told you, proves that she was very happy, and that the sweet truth about Jesus dying for her sins, made her thus happy. After reading and explaining to her, very simply, part of the 3d Chapter of John, about the brazen serpent, I prayed by her bedside, and then left her, rejoicing that our labours in the Sabbath school had been thus rewarded in preparing this dying girl for glory. The next day, Thursday, I went to see her again. I had to walk nearly two miles to her cottage, and my path lay through the fields. It was a beautiful spring morning, and all Nature seemed vocal with the praises of God, and seemed to say in thousand voices---" God is love." The sun was shining brightly, and the fields began to put on their mantle of green; the little birds were singing merrily in the woods, as I passed along, as if to win and woo my heart to chant a song of praise; and all conspired to prove how happy a world this might be if we did but all enjoy the friendship of God. Thus I passed along, till I came into the village, and arrived at the cottage door. As I entered the sick chamber, to see this dying girl, I found her with a beautiful flush upon her cheek, leaning over her open Bible, evidently enjoying its precious truths. I caught a glance of her before she perceived me entering, and truly it was a most interesting sight. Ah! what would not painter or poet have given for such a picture as this! A little Hymn Book was lying by her side, along with that precious narrative of the good Leigh Rich mond, the Young Cottager, in which she had been reading. I had been reflecting, as I walked along, upon the traces of the love of God in Nature; and now I felt it to be more delightful still to trace the same love, in his kindness to this young Christian, in preparing her for a better world, and in enabling her to wait patiently for the happy hour of dismission from this. "God is love," i. e. entirely love---love itself. He can as soon cease to be, as cease to love. All his works testify to his love; but his great saving work, the redemption of our world by Jesus Christ, is the fullest manifestation of that love. It is love embodied. After inquiring about Sarah's health, I said---" And what are you reading there, Sarah ?" She then pointed out some parts of scripture, and after doing so, took up the Hymn Book, saying, “I've been thinking of this Hymn, sir, which ends every line with the words, 'Dear Lord, Remember me. Some of the verses of this Hymn are as follows::-- O thou, from whom all goodness flows, I lift my heart to thee; In all my sorrows, conflicts, woes, Distress'd with pain, disease, and grief, This feeble body see; Grant patience, rest, and kind relief, The hour is near, consigned to death, Saviour, with my last parting breath, Often did she utter these last words of the dying thief. They were, with her, especial favourites. She felt that she could embody all her wants for time and for eternity in the short prayer “Lord, Remember me." And how many, like this dear dying girl, have uttered these words, till they have sweetly blended with, or rather been changed to, the song---" Worthy is the Lamb that was slain!" After committing her to God, I left; but not without the promise, in answer to her request, that I would call again in a day or two. The next day, the teacher of her class paid her another visit. She was a little easier, though fast sinking; but her mind was in its usual happy frame, and the same submissiveness and thankfulness were expressed in her looks and conversation. In the course of the interview, Sarah said, "I can't help thinking, when I'm not in quite so much pain, of the words of the hymn, "Jesus can inake a dying bed Feel soft as downy pillows are; And sweetly breathe my life out there." |