on as usual till after that. Besides," he added, with the frankness of a true English sailor, "I expect it will be a right down jolly time, and I'm not inclined to give it up on my own account. But after Christmas, captain, I will turn over a new leaf-see if I don't." 66 The captain felt that human pleading would have little power to overturn the young man's purpose. In his anxiety he had recourse to prayer. Standing with uncovered head on the heaving deck, he prayed earnestly, though silently, to the Father in heaven, who could convince his young friend that now was the only certain 'day of salvation." Locksley understood and felt the unspoken prayer, the words of which he could not hear. His head was bowed too, and his spirit deeply moved; but the tempter was at hand with the deadly suggestion that it was quite as safe, and far better, to wait a while. As Captain Harrison bade him " good night," before turning in, he said, gaily, "Now don't get anxious about me, captain; Christmas will soon be here, and you have my promise after that." The captain went below and left the brave young fellow on deck bright and mirthful, and ready to quench every feeling of misgiving that the captain's prayer had caused, by lively anticipations of his return home. Not ten minutes had passed, when the captain heard hurried footsteps on the deck, then the sharp clear cry, "Man overboard !" When in another instant he had dashed up the companion ladder and looked round, he scarcely needed to ask. "Who is it?" for had it not been Locksley, he would have seen him at once, foremost among the gallant fellows who were lowering the boats, ready to peril their own lives to rescue the man in danger. Yes, it was Locksley-Reaching over the quarter to clear an entangled log-line, he had lost his foothold and fallen overboard, and the ship went on her rapid way without him. Every thing was done which stout arms and brave hearts could do. But all was vain. The men strained at the oars only to see him throw up his arms and sink. Christmas, with its mirth and festivity, came to others, but not to him; and as he went down in the cold waters, leaving hope and life behind him for ever, it would add a terrible keenness to his agony to remember that, not many minutes before, immortality and eternal life had been offered to him through Jesus, and he had refused them. And Edward Locksley's is not a solitary case. "Oh !" said a poor woman, whose death-bed was made miserable by the memory of lost opportunities, "when God says 'to-day,' it is madness to say to-morrow!" And yet how many are saying it. Dear reader are you? The Holy Spirit has often invited you to accept salvation, through the quiet voice of a tract, or the earnest words of a faithful minister, or the entreaties of a Christian friend; or, it may be, by the lips of a mother, whose last words on earth were a prayer for you. Oh, in how many ways does the loving Father in heaven beseech you to be reconciled! And you, who have never yet agreed to his terms, are quite intending to do so; but, like Edward Locksley, "not just yet." You have some plan of pleasure or gain in the future, and it shall be "after that," that you will serve Him whose ways are all pleasantness, and whose service is profitable unto all things." Ah, my reader, you think to gain the world, and afterwards to save your soul; but such speculations very often turn out a dead loss in both respects. I cannot tell what "more convenient season" you are looking forward to, but I can tell you that it is a soulruining delusion to think that it will ever come. 66 As the year numbers out its last days, one by one, and your hearts are filled with bright hopes of Christmas pleasure, perhaps the very words of Edward Locksley are yours, "After Christmas I will turn over a new leaf." But, oh! in that case, let his solemn fate remind you of the danger you are running. "The God in whose hand thy breath is, and whose are all thy ways," may be driven by your presumptuous trifling to say, "My Spirit shall not always strive." He is joined to his idols, let him alone;" and to be "let alone" of God, would make the Christmas and the new year gloomy indeed. I would plead with you again, my dear friend, before you lay this book aside. I want you to have a happy Christmas; make it so by accepting the Saviour. It is his birthday you are going to keep: will you not give him the only birthday gift he asks for your poor sinful heart? He will take it just as it is, and will make it just what it ought to be. Thenceforward, there will be to you" on earth peace;" and if they share in our Christmas joy up in heaven it will be brighter for your sake, for "there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth." "TAKE MY YOKE UPON YOU." SAVIOUR mine, if I obey Thy blessed precepts day by day; If, with a firm, believing heart, Is this the yoke thou bid'st me take? If, in the sphere thou callest me, O Saviour, if, without reserve, To labour on and be forgot, And suffer loss for thy dear sake, If I another's burden bear, Is this the yoke thou bid'st me take? Whate'er it be, thou knowest best ; LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, |