where it may please the God of your life and the Rock of your salvation-slowly or suddenly-by accident or by disease-on land or on sea-all is safe-safe for judgment-safe for eternity! To you to live, having been Christ-to you to die, will be gain! A striking proof was given, amid the terrors of those few moments which intervened between the first alarm and the shock with which the vessel sprung to the bottom, of the power of real religion—of habitual faith in Jesus, leading to personal and practical holiness-to support and to sustain, when the stoutest hearts were quailing, and when the seamen, generally the last to yield, were shaking hands with each other, in that stern silence which told its own hopeless tale. "Looking around me," says one of the survivors, "I saw the Rev. Mr. M'Kenzie, on the quarter-deck, praying, with several of the passengers on their knees around him. Mr. M⚫Kenzie seemed calm and collected. All the passengers were praying with him too, but Mr. M'Kenzie's voice was distinctly heard above them all." He had been heard to call to them, and suggest, that as there was no hope of safety, they should engage in prayer. Long had he known, by personal experience, the unspeakable worth of evangelical religion: and now, having no concern for his personal salvation, his whole solicitude was on behalf of his companions, thus suddenly summoned to appear before the bar of God. Beloved by a wide circle of Christian friends,— rising daily higher and higher in the estimation of the wise and good,-possessed of commanding talents, which were studiously consecrated to the service of God,- many were the hearts that sorrowed, many were the tears which fell, when tidings came that he too was numbered with the dead. But while so many wept to lose him, none felt surprised, who knew him, at the affecting detail of his last moments, and of their employment. Was his deportment, then, that of a man who had any misgivings as to the truth of his principles-who had yet his religion to seek-who then for the first time was brought to think of the solemnities of death and judgment-whom that day overtook as a thief in the night? Seeing the full amount of the peril; hope holding for the moment, and departing; his heart glanced a last look of love to wife and friends on earth, and commended them to the providence and grace of a covenant God; and then absorbed in all the blissful hopes of eternity, on the verge of which he felt himself; and in all the yearnings of a soulitself safe for the safety of the perishing around him; his fellow-passengers, at his summons, on their knees on either hand of him; he, all calm, firm, resigned, collected—the eye of faith upon the cross, and the eye of hope on the crown--with his full, deep, manly voice, swelling distinctly amid the shrieks and confusion of the terrific scene, commended himself and them to the infinite mercy of the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ; praying from the fulness of his heart, “that if it were His will they should now perish, he would enable them to be resigned to His all-merciful disposal, and that they might all be prepared for so sudden a summons to His bar." All this was just like him. His was a piety that guided, supported, and influenced him—not by fits and starts, but steadily and alike— at all times, and under all emergencies. There he was, just as a Christian, firm in faith, ought to have been. It was an awful testing-time of his confidence in the gospel which he had held and taught. But feeling that his religion was true, he could trust it at the moment of trial; and prayer at such a moment-not the mere cry for mercy, dictated by desperation and terror, but the utterance of a mind in full self-possessionwas a manifestation at once of the power of the truth which he believed, and of the meaning and force of the faith with which he held it. How strikingly does such a scene as this reiterate the appeal of the sacred volume-" Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace." It is not then without reason, that to those whose feelings have been interested in the narrative of the loss of the Pegasus, but who may themselves be living in a state in which, were death to summon them by any sudden call into eternity, they should be found unprepared, the entreaty has been addressed, to turn from every rival object, and from every delusive hope, to Jesus Christ; to embrace him, not in name, but in deed; not in the form of an outward profession, but with the sincerity of internal principle. Jesus Christ is the power of God unto salvation to every one who thus believeth; and the greatness and the sufficiency of that power will be felt in every earthly emergency; while nothing besides can afford a real and trustworthy composure in the hour "when heart and flesh must fail." Not a few, indeed, may have turned from the recital, to breathe the prayer, "Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his!" But let it not be forgotten, that this death was but the appropriate close of a life habitually spent in the love, service, and imitation of Jesus: there was an inseparable connexion between the state of mind during life, and the peacefulness of death; and to experience the latter, implies that we possess the former. It is impossible to cast another look at the scene we have been contemplating, without being impressed with another af fecting feature in the case. How eagerly the call which invited to prayer was attended to-how soon that group was collected with how little effort was that circle formed, and that prayermeeting formed! Under no other circumstances, perhaps, would it have been possible to have persuaded some of those who were numbered among that group, and joined heartily in those supplications, to have attended a meeting for prayer, or even to have prayed at all. Probably if the same voice had invited some of them to join in a religious exercise as the evening closed in, before they retired to rest, the appeal would have been refused, if not treated with silent derision. It might have been that some had been summoned from the couch on which they had lain to repose, without one thought of God having passed in their minds-one expression of dependence on him having escaped their lips-or one desire for his blessing having been addressed to his throne. But oh! how changed! Now they were in earnest about their souls! Now they feel that prayer is imperatively necessary! Now they discover a meaning in religion! It is no longer with them a matter to be trifled with. Deep convictions all at once take possession of their hearts and consciences, and they are made conscious of the folly of leaving to the mercy of a moment the vast concerns of their immortal souls. There is a time when we must think of God and of the soul, whether we will or not--when means once disregarded will appear of unspeakable importance—when the trifler shall be careless no longer-and when it shall be made evident, that to have lived without God in the world, is not only to have sinned against Infinite Love, whose offers and invitations have been rejected; but to have sinned against the soul, by depriving it of the present peace and support of that interest in salvation, which has then to be sought, instead of being enjoyed. Oh! that amid the giddy circles in which pleasure is the great object of pursuit, and from which whatever is serious is purposely banished-oh! that among those who pray but in form, or never pray at all-the voice of the Most High might be heard, when he speaks by his providence, as well as by his word, and says, "Prepare to meet thy God! ye cannot, will not always trifle; there is a time when you must think, whether you will or not; it is foolish, it is criminal, to be thoughtless now." Those are the truly wise, and only those, who live in habitual preparation for death. When, in the darkness of the night, the ship struck on the rock, then it was seen who were the truly wise, and who the foolish just as when, in the parable spoken by our Lord, the midnight cry was heard-"Behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye forth to meet him"-it was easy to see that the wise virgins were those who had oil in their vessels, with their lamps, and who were ready to enter in with him to the feast. And that which we earnestly desire for you, dear reader, is, that this wisdom may be yours, that you may never have the consciousness of the folly of neglecting your soul forced upon you, when but a few moments intervene between you and eternity. "Be wise, understand this, consider your latter end." Be it yours to seek and attain the enviable condition of the true servant of God. "Let your loins be girded about, and your light burning." "Blessed are those servants whom the Lord when he cometh shall find watching." Luke xii. 35, 37, THE ENGLISH MONTHLY TRACT SOCIETY, 27, RED LION SQUARE, LONDON; AND J. F. SHAW, BOOKSELLER, SOUTHAMPTON ROW, LONDON, J. & W. Rider, Printers, Bartholomew Close, London. |