82 Sermon Illustrations on Salvation

"Deposit this in my name" means "deposit it in my account." Or "draw this in my name" means "draw this from my account." Isn't that what would happen if I were to write out a check for you? You would take it and present it to the bank. You would cash it. But the money would come out of my account because my name was signed on the check. You would have to believe that I had money in the bank and the money could become yours; otherwise you would never have presented the check to be cashed. Thus, through faith in my name, you would have made my account yours in the amount that I had made available to you. That's exactly the transaction that takes place between God and man. He has the resources which we need. He is Life and Light. Especially do we need these, in a spiritual sense, for our spiritual existence. They are made available to us in the measure that we need them, because we ourselves are bankrupt. Our name isn't worth anything at the source of Life and Light, but the Lord Jesus Christ has available what we need.

On a crowded street of one of our large cities, a young man was snatched from the path of a speeding truck, his life saved by a venerable-looking man. Still breathless from fright, the youth thanked the one who saved his life and then was lost in the crowd. Two weeks later in a crowded courtroom, an anxious young man stood in the prisoner's box to be sentenced for murder. "Young man, have you anything to say before the sentence of death is passed upon you?" "Why! Yes! Yes, Judge," the youth responded, "you know me." A silence moved like a shock wave over the courtroom. "I'm sorry. I cannot place you." "Yes. Surely you remember. Two weeks ago. At Main and Seventh Streets, you saved my life. Surely, Judge, you can do something to save me now." A silence pervaded the courtroom. "Young man, now I do remember you. But that day I was your savior. Today I am your judge." Today the Lord Jesus Christ wants to be your Savior. If you refuse Him and His grace, one day He will be your Judge.

Did you ever wonder... Was the ark REALLY big enough for all those animals? On first glance, the figures can be frightening. At the time of this writing, science has classified one million different species of animals. With seven of every clean and two of every other kind, it would seem we need space for at least 2,500,000 animals on the ark. Can we just faith it? First, let us note the ark was no toy boat, but a gigantic barge with a volume of 1,396,000 cubic feet (assuming one cubit equals 17.5 inches). The ark had a carrying capacity equal to that of 522 standard stock cars. (1) What about the multitude of animals, you may ask. Most of that list of a million are worms, insects, one-cell animals and sea creatures who would have no need to be on the ark. In fact, "there was need for no more than 35,000 individual vertebrate animals on the ark." (2) Chipmunk to elephant, let us assume the average size of an animal on the ark to be a sheep. Currently the railroad can fit 120 sheep on a stock car. Doing some fast figuring, the ark needed only to carry 292 stock cars worth of animals. Plenty of room for Noah, his family and extra hay. Today God provides room for all men to find salvation at the cross. Noah pleaded with men to, "Get on board the ark," and they did not understand until the flood came and took them away. So shall the coming of the Son of Man be (Matthew 24:39). Will there be spare room for those you know who could have made it? Are you doing your part? No Half-Measures With Him "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come" (2 Corinthians 5:17). New status, new life, new creation-we must not separate these blessings. They belong together, and are given to all who are in Christ. A simple illustration may help. If a vagrant comes to us in dire need, down and out, in rags and tatters, and sick, even starving, it will be good to give him a bath and a change of clothing, but not enough. For he is ill and undernourished. So, in addition, he needs food and hospital treatment. Similarly, we come to Christ down and out, in the rags and tatters of our sin, spiritually sick and starving. In Christ, we are at once made welcome and accepted, and given a bath and a change of clothes. God sees us as righteous in Christ. This is our new status. But it is only the beginning. The Good Physician knows we are sick. So he puts His Spirit within us to give us new life and health, and He feeds us with His Word until we grow strong and vigorous. There are no half-measures with Him.

A sailor and a miner lost control of the rowboat they were maneuvering above a waterfall. The swift water started hurling them to destruction. Someone from the shore flung a rope to the two as they were tossed from their boat into the pounding current. At that same instant, a floating log shot by. The sailor grabbed the rope and hung on, but the miner seized the log and wrapped himself around it, ignoring the rope. The man grasping the log was borne irresistibly along to his destruction. The other man was pulled safely to the shore. The gospel message is that Christ is on the shore, throwing us a life-saving rope. So many things seem to float by that are attractive, but life shows them to be fatal. Isaiah pled for Israel to grasp the hand of the Lord which is with His servants.

An old Indian chief constantly spoke of the Lord Jesus and what He meant to him. "Why do you talk so much about Jesus?" asked a friend. The old chief did not reply, but slowly, deliberately gathered some sticks and bits of grass. He made a circle of them. In the circle he placed a caterpillar. Still silent, he struck a match and lit the sticks and grass. They watched the caterpillar. As the fire caught around the circle, the trapped caterpillar began to crawl around rapidly, seeking a way to escape. As the fire advanced, the helpless caterpillar raised its head as high as it could. If the creature could have spoken, it would have said, "My help can only come from above." Then the old chief stooped down. He extended his finger to the caterpillar which crawled up his finger to safety. "That," said the chief glowing, "was what the Lord Jesus did for me! I was lost in sin. My condition was hopeless. I was trapped. Then the Lord Jesus stooped down in love and mercy and He drew me out of the horrible pit of sin and shame. How can I help but love Him and talk of His wondrous love and care?" His Name Was Jesus, the Savior A visitor approached the preacher after listening to his sermons on the necessity of receiving Christ as Savior. The man said he thought that Christianity should limit itself in presenting Christ as our example whom we should follow. The preacher turned to the visitor and said, "If I were to preach Christ as our example, would you follow His example?" "Why not?" was the flippant answer. The preacher thought for a moment and said, "Okay, let us think then of some of the things that Jesus did and did not do. One of the things that is said of Him is that He did not sin. Can you take that step and follow His example in doing no sin?" "No, I must be very honest about myself, I do sin." The preacher then answered: "It is impossible then to follow Jesus unless you first make Him your Savior. It is He who must live in you so that you can say 'For me to live is Christ.'" Jesus came into the world not to set an example for us, but to become our Savior. It is only as we receive Him that we are able to follow Him because He indwells us.

After a mission service, the preacher of the evening was hurrying away to a late train. He had just three minutes to catch it when he saw a man running after him. "Oh, sir," he said breathlessly as he came up, "can you help me? I am very anxious about my salvation." "Well," replied the preacher, "my train is just here, and it is the last one; but look up Isaiah 53:6. Go in at the first 'all' and go out at the last 'all.' Good night." The man stood staring after him until he had disappeared into the station and then he muttered, "Go in at the first 'all' and go out at the last 'all.' What does he mean?" When he arrived home he took down his Bible and turning to Isaiah 53:6 read these words, "All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all." "Go in at the first 'all,' " he repeated. " 'All we like sheep have gone astray.' I am to go in with that 'all.' Yes, I see. It just means that I am one of those who have gone astray. And go out with the last 'all.' 'The Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.' I see. Yes, I am to go out free with those whose iniquity has been laid on Christ." At last he realized his individual lost condition and his individual redemption. This is actually the message of John 1:9. The eternal Light of Christ illumines the individual who responds affirmatively. "Go in at the first 'all' and go out at the last 'all.'" The Needy Community On a cold winter day Thomas Carlyle was sitting near his fireplace when the door opened and the new pastor of a nearby church came in. After they had exchanged a few words, the young preacher asked the philosopher, "What do you think our community needs more than anything else?" Without hesitation Carlyle answered, "What our community needs more than anything else is a man who knows God experientially, not simply from what he has learned from others."

The light is willing enough to enter the window of the soul when it is allowed admission. No man passes from his natural darkness into heavenly light without being aware that a great change has taken place. When the light first comes in, it reveals much that before was unperceived. If a room has been shut for a long time and kept in darkness, the light has a startling effect. With the light of a candle we cannot detect the dust, but if we open the shutters and draw the curtains, the light makes the mold and the dust very apparent. The first effect of the light of God in the soul is painfully unpleasant. It makes us loathe ourselves and wish we had never been born. Things grow worse and worse to our consciences as the light shines more and more. We would have every idol discovered and broken, and every dark chamber exposed to the sun. We must not keep the light out of any part of our nature. The light should be permitted to continue to enter our souls, and as it does, it gradually illuminates. Our will by nature prefers the darkness. We claim the right to act as we please. The light must continue to enter if our will is going to consent to change.

A young man who presented himself as a candidate for baptism was asked by one of the deacons when he had found Christ as his Savior. "I didn't find Him; He found me," was the reply. That's absolutely correct. God is constantly seeking the wandering sinner, confronting him with the cross of Christ at every turn.

Dr. Guthrie, attending a school gathering in a slum area, followed a speaker who had referred to poor neglected children as "the scum of society." This roused the indignation of Dr. Guthrie. Taking a clean sheet of paper and holding it up, he said, "Yes, this was the scum of society once, only filthy rags, but they can be cleansed and made into spotless white paper on which you may write the name of God." So it is with a believer in Christ. A Heartfelt Experience Somebody was asked how he knew that he was converted. "Why, bless your heart," was the answer, "I was there when it happened!" When Jesus Christ comes into our hearts, we know it, and others will, too. His Perfect Salvation Someone has said, "The Redeemer who loved us from eternity and formed us for Himself will not leave the pining soul to the secondhand tinkering of others. He will closet us in with Himself." I believe God longs to give to each of us a perfect personal assurance of His perfect salvation. Yet how few seem to realize this as David Brainerd did. In his diary he wrote: "My discourse was suited to my own case, for of late I have found a great want of apprehension of divine grace and have often been greatly distressed in my soul because I did not suitably apprehend this fountain open to purge away sin, and so I've had to be laboring for spiritual life and peace of conscience in my own strength; but now God showed me in some measure the arm of strength and fountain of all grace. But do I hear someone say, can He meet me at the point of my need? Let me tell you that He absolutely can." The Heart a Better Interpreter That great English preacher, Joseph Parker, once said, "The divinity of the Son of God is not proved merely in proportions. I think that he who believes in the divinity of Christ has all history, etymology, and philosophy on his side. My dependence is not founded upon the construction of a phrase or the mood and tense of a verb, and yet we have nothing to fear from that side. I rely upon His moral reach and spiritual compass. When He touched my soul into life, I did not call for a Greek grammar, Hebrew lexicon, or volumes of encyclopedias, to find how the thing stood. I believe because 'once I was blind, and now I see.' The heart is sometimes a better interpreter than the understanding. What better proof do I want? 'He has redeemed my life from destruction.' "

“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” John 15:13

“When we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son.” Romans 5:10

When nations are engaged in deadly strife, it is common for patriots to declare that he who gives his life for defense of his country may be certain of a home in heaven because of having made the supreme sacrifice. This teaching is in accord with the principles of the Moslem religion and not with true Christianity. Mahomet promised his fanatical followers a place in Paradise if they died for the faith in conflict with the “infidels” who rejected his teachings. Patriotism is a virtue of which any man may well be proud.

“Lives there a man with soul so dead,

Who never to himself hath said,

This is my own, my native land?”

But patriotism, praiseworthy as it is from a human standpoint, will never fit the soul for the presence of God. It can never wash away the guilt of sin.

The testimony of Edith Cavell, the brave British nurse who was killed by the Germans during the First World War, is well worth considering in this connection.

This noble woman was born at Swardeston, Norfolk, on December 4, 1865. She entered the London Hospital for nurses’ training in 1895. In 1907 she was appointed first matron of the Berkendael Medical Institute at Brussels, Belgium. This became the Red Cross Hospital for Belgium at the outbreak of the conflict in 1914. From August of that year, until August, 1915, Nurse Cavell helped to care for wounded French, Belgian, English and German soldiers alike. She ministered faithfully even to those who had fallen while fighting against her own nation. Naturally, her sympathies were with the Allies, and in cooperation with the efforts of Prince Reginald de Croy, she aided many derelict English and French soldiers who had fled from the Germans. These escaped by “underground” methods to the Dutch frontier, where, with the aid of guides, they were conveyed across to Britain. When some of these fugitives were traced to her house in Brussels, she was immediately arrested and after a court-martial was sentenced to face a firing-squad. All her kindness to the German wounded was forgotten. Her captors considered her a spy and treated her accordingly.

Just before the bandage was placed over her eyes, as she stood fearlessly facing the soldiers who were about to take her life, she gave a last message to the world. “I am glad,” she said, “to die for my country. But as I stand here I realize as never before that patriotism is not enough.” Then she went on to give a clear, definite testimony to her personal faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and her assurance of salvation, not through laying down her life for others, but because He laid down His life for her. In perfect composure, she submitted to the bandaging of her eyes and, in a few moments fell, pierced by many German bullets.

Her words, patriotism is not enough, have spoken loudly to many in the years that have gone since she died a martyr to her convictions. Yet many forget this.

“What more is needed?” you may ask. The answer is “Christ!” It is through faith in Him alone that the soul is saved and heaven assured.

I have read of an artist who wanted to paint a picture of the Prodigal Son. He searched through the madhouse, and the poor houses, and the prisons, to find a man wretched enough to represent the prodigal, but he could not find one. One day he was walking down the streets and met a man whom he thought would do. He told the poor beggar he would pay him well if he came to his room and sat for the portrait. The beggar agreed, and the day was appointed for him to come. The day came, and a man put in his appearance at the artist's room. "You made an appointment with me," he said, when he was shown into the studio. The artist looked at him, "I never saw you before," he said; "you cannot have an appointment with me." "Yes," he said, "I agreed to meet you to-day at ten o'clock." "You must be mistaken; it must have been some other artist; I was to see a beggar here at this hour." "Well," says the beggar, "I am he." "You?" "Yes." "Why, what have you been doing?" "Well, I thought I would dress myself up a bit before I got painted." "Then," said the artist, "I do not want you; I wanted you as you were; now, you are no use to me." That is the way Christ wants every poor sinner, just as he is. It is only the ragged sinners that open God's wardrobe. I remember a boy to whom I gave a pair of boots, and I found him shortly after in his bare feet again. I asked him what he had done with them, and he replied that when he was dressed up it spoiled his business; when he was dressed up no one would give anything. By keeping his feet naked he got as many as five pairs of boots a day. So if you want to come to God don't dress yourself up. It is the naked sinner God wants to save.

One day I saw a steel engraving that I liked very much. I thought it was the finest thing I ever had seen, at the time, and I bought it. It was a picture of a woman coming out of the water, and clinging with both arms to the cross. There she came out of the drowning waves with both arms around the cross perfectly safe. Afterwards, I saw another picture that spoiled this one for me entirely, it was so much more lovely. It was a picture of a person coming out of the dark waters, with one arm clinging to the cross and with the other she was lifting some one else out of the waves. That is what I like. Keep a firm hold upon the cross, but always try to rescue another from the drowning.

Safe in the Ark.

When the voice came down from heaven to Noah, "Come thou and all thy house into the ark, for thee have I seen righteous before me in this generation," now; there was a minute when Noah was outside the ark, and another when he was inside, and by being inside he was saved. As long as he was outside of the ark he was exposed to the wrath of God just like the rest of those antediluvians. If he stayed out, and remained with those antediluvians, he would have been swept away, as they were. It was not his righteousness; it was not his faith nor his works that saved him; it was the ark. And, my friends, we have not, like Noah, to be one hundred and twenty years making an ark for our safety. God has provided an ark for us, and the question is: Are you inside or outside this ark? If you are inside you are safe; if you are outside you are not safe.

Suppose we should write out here to-night this excuse, how would it sound?

To the King of Heaven:--While sitting in the Tabernacle in the City of Chicago, January--, 1877, I received a very pressing invitation from one of your servants to be present at the marriage supper of your only-begotten Son. I pray Thee have me excused."

Would you sign that, young man? Would you, mother? Would you come up to the reporters' table, take up a pen and put your name down to such an excuse? You would say, "Let my right hand forget its cunning, and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I sign that."

Just let me write out another answer:

"To the King of Heaven;--While sitting in the Tabernacle, January---, 1877, I received a pressing invitation from one of your messengers to be present at the marriage supper of your only-begotten Son. I hasten to reply: by the grace of God I will be present."

Who will sign that? Is there one who will put his name to it? Is there no one who will say, "By the grace of God I will accept the invitation now"?

There was a story told me while I was in Philadelphia, by Capt. Trumbull. He said when he was in Libby prison the news came that his wife was in Washington, and his little child was dying: and the next news that came was that his child was dead, and the mother remained in Washington in hopes that her husband could come with her and take that child off to New England and bury it; but that was the last he heard. One day the news came into the prison that there was a boat up from City Point, and there were over nine hundred men in the prison rejoicing at once. They expected to get good news. Then came the news that there was only one man in that whole number that was to be let go, and they all began to say, "Who is it?" It was some one who had some influential friend at Washington that had persuaded the government to take an interest in him and get him out. The whole prison was excited. At last an officer came and shouted at the top of his voice, "Henry Clay Trumbull!" The chaplain told me his name never sounded so sweet to him as it did that day. That was election, but you can't find any Henry Clay Trumbull in the Bible. There is no special case in the Bible. God's proclamations are to all sinners. Everybody can get out of prison that wants to. The trouble is, they don't want to go. They had rather be captives to some darling sin.

I remember a few years ago I felt very anxious for a man who was present at a meeting like this. At the close of the meeting I asked all to rise, and he rose among the others. I took him aside and said, "Now you are going to become a Christian--you will come out for the Lord now?" He said he was wanting to very much. The man was trembling from head to foot, and I thought surely he was going to accept Him. I spoke to him in his hesitating condition, and found out what was standing between him and Christ. He was afraid of his companions. Nearly every day and night news came to me that some of these employers and clerks make light of these meetings, and make fun of all who attend them, and so many give the same reason that this man did. I said to him: "If heaven is what we are led to believe it is, I would be willing to accept it and bear their fun." I talked with him, but he wouldn't accept it. He went off, but for weeks he came every night, and went away as he came, without accepting it. One day I received a message to come and see him. He was sick, and I went to his chamber. He wanted to know if there was hope for him in the eleventh hour? I spoke to him, and gave him every hope I could. Day after day I visited him, and, contrary to all expectation, I saw him gradually recovering. When he got pretty well he was sitting on the front porch, and I sat down by him and said: "You will be going now to confess Christ; you'll be going to take your stand for him now?" "Well," said he, "Mr. Moody, I promised God on my sick bed that I would; but I will wait a little. I am going over to Michigan, where I am going to buy a farm and settle down, and then I'll become a Christian." "If God cannot make you a Christian here he cannot do it there," I replied. I tried to get him to make an unconditional surrender, but he wouldn't; he would put it off till the next spring. "Why," I said, "you may not live till next spring." "Don't you see I am getting quite well?" "But are you willing to take the risk till next spring?" "Oh, yes, I'll take it; Mr. Moody, you needn't trouble yourself any more about my soul; I'll risk it; you can just attend to your business, and I will to mine, and if I lose my soul, no one will be to blame but myself--certainly not you, for you've done all you could." I went away from that house then with a heavy heart.

I well remember the day of the week, Thursday, about noon, just one week from that very day, when his wife sent for me. When I went to their home I found her in great trouble, and learned that he had had a relapse. I asked if he had expressed a desire to see me. She said "No; he is always saying 'there is no hope,' and I cannot bear to have him die in that condition." I went into the room. He did not speak to me, but I went around to the foot of the bed and looked in his face and said, "Won't you speak to me?" and at last he fixed that terrible deathly look upon me and said, "Mr. Moody, you need not talk to me any more. It is too late; there is no hope for me now. Go talk to my wife and children; pray for them; but my heart is as hard as the iron in that stove there. When I was sick He came to the door of my heart, and I promised to serve Him, but I broke that promise, and now I must die without Him." I got down to pray. "You needn't pray for me," he said. I prayed, but it seemed as if my prayer went no higher than my head. He lingered till that night, repeating, "The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and I am not saved." There he lay in agony, every few minutes this lamentation breaking from him. Just as the sun was going down behind those Western prairies, his wife leaned over him, and in an almost inaudible voice, he whispered, "The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and I am not saved," and he died. He had lived a Christless life, he died a Christless death, he was wrapped in a Christless shroud, and he was buried in a Christless grave. Oh, how dark and sad! Dear friends, the harvest is passing; the summer will soon be ended; won't you let Him redeem you?

When I was in London there was a leading doctor in that city, upwards of seventy years of age, wrote me a note to come and see him privately about his soul. He was living at a country seat a little way out of London, and he came into town only two or three times a week. He was wealthy and was nearly retired. I received the note right in the midst of the London work, and told him I could not see him. I received a note a day or two after from a member of his family, urging me to come. The letter said his wife had been praying for him for fifty years, and all the children had become Christians by her prayers. She had prayed for him all those years, but no impression had been made upon him. Upon his desk they had found the letter from me, and they came up to London to see what it meant, and I said I would see him. When we met I asked him if he wanted to become a Christian, and he seemed every way willing, but when it came to confession to his family, he halted. "I tell you," said he, "I cannot do that; my life has been such that I would not like to confess before my family." "Now there is the point; if you are not willing to confess Christ, He will not confess you; you cannot be His disciple." We talked for some time, and he accepted. I found while I had been in one room his daughter and some friends, anxious for the salvation of that aged father, were in the other room praying to God, and when he started out willing to go home and confess Christ, I opened the door of the other room, not knowing the daughter was there, and the first words she said were: "Is my father saved?" "Yes, I think he is," I answered, and ran down to the front door and called him back. "Your daughter is here," I said; "this is the time to commence your confession." The father, with tears trickling down his cheeks, embraced his child, "My dear daughter, I have accepted Christ," and a great flood of light broke upon him at that confession.

I read a number of years ago of a vessel that was wrecked. The life-boats were not enough to take all the passengers. A man who was swimming in the water swam up to one of the life-boats that was full and seized it with his hand. They tried to prevent him, but the man was terribly in earnest about saving his life, and one of the men in the boat just drew a sword and cut off his hand. But the man didn't give up: he reached out the other hand. He was terribly in earnest. He wanted to save his life. But the man in the boat took the sword and cut off his other hand. But the man did not give up. He swam up to the boat and seized it with his teeth. Some of them said, "Let us not cut his head off," and they drew him in. That man was terribly in earnest, and, my friends, if you want to get into the kingdom of God, be in earnest.

Adoption is that act of God by which we who were alienated, and enemies, and disinherited, are made the sons of God, and heirs of his eternal glory. — R. Watson. — Adoption is an action whereby a man takes a person into his family, in order to make him part of it, acknowledges him for his son, and receives him into the number, and gives him a right to the privileges of his children. Pharaoh's daughter adopted young Moses, and Mordecai Esther. Ex. ii. 10; Esther ii. 7, 15. A. Cruden.

On the morning, when the ark-door was opened, you might have seen in the sky a pair of eagles, a pair of sparrows, a pair of vultures, a pair of ravens, a pair of humming-birds, a pair of all kinds of birds that ever cut the azure, that ever floated on wing or whispered their song to the evening gales. In they came. But, if you had watched down on the earth, you would have seen come creeping along a pair of snails, a pair of snakes, and a pair of worms. There ran along a pair of mice; there came a pair of lizards; and in there flew a pair of locusts. There were pairs of creeping creatures, as well as pairs of flying creatures. Do you see what I mean by that? There are some of you that can fly so high in knowledge that I should never be able to scan your great and extensive wisdom: and others of you so ignorant, that you can hardly read your Bibles. Never mind: the eagle must come down to the door, and you must go up to it. There is only one entrance for you all; and, as God saved the birds that flew, so he saved the reptiles that crawled. Are you a poor, ignorant, crawling creature, that never was noticed,—without intellect, without repute, without fame, without honor? Come along, crawling one! God will not exclude you. Spurgeon

As Tiberius the Emperor, who, being desirous to have canonized Christ among the numbers of the saints, thought it expedient first to have therein the consent of the Senate, but, while he waited for their consent, Christ was uncanonized; whereas, Tiberius might very well have done it himself: so it is with careless Christians, who, in a matter so manifest, will yet wait for others' consent, to the hazard of their own salvation, and discovery of their own obstinate folly. Cawdray.

Years ago, a man was benighted in a mining region. He lost his way: the darkness was dense, and dangers were thick. The next step might precipitate him down some awful shaft, some gloomy pit, and dash him, bruised and shapeless, upon its floor. He knew his peril; and he stopped, stood still, and began to cry, "Lost! lost, lost!" A cottager heard the sound, and, grasping a lantern, hurried forth to answer to the voice. Guided by the cry, "Lost, lost, lost!" he hastened over the moor. The lost man saw in the distance the glimmering of his light: it came nearer and nearer, until, as its rays flashed through the surrounding mist, he found that he stood upon the very verge of death. Another step would have carried him down the shaft, a crushed and mangled corpse! One step, one more effort to save himself, and he would have been lost beyond hope; another effort even to find his way would have proved his ruin.

An ignorant man, being asked how he hoped to be saved, replied, "Don't you think, that, if I was to spend a cold frosty night under a hawthorn-bush, it would go a good way towards it?"

John Randolph in his last illness said to his doctor, "Remorse, Remorse, REMORSE. Let me see the word. Show it to me in a dictionary." There being none in the room, he said to the doctor, "Write it, then." He wrote it on both sides of a card at Randolph's direction. It was underlined as he wished it. He gazed upon it, and then said, "REMORSE!—you don't know what it means: you don't know what it means." Soon he added, "I cast myself upon the Lord Jesus Christ for mercy."

The gospel river of life does not branch out into divers streams. There is not a broad sweep of water for the rich, the intellectual, and the cultivated, and a little scant runnel where the poor may now and then come and get healed by the side of its precarious wave. There is no costly sanatorium beneath whose shade patrician leprosy may get by itself to be fashionably sprinkled and healed. Naaman, with all his retinue watching, must come and dip and plunge like common men in Jordan. There is no sort of salvation except the one ransom and deliverance that is purchased for rich and poor together by the sacrifice of the Lord Jesus Christ; and the poor beggar, his garment ragged from the havoc of a hundred storms, and his flesh bleeding from the ulcers of a hundred wounds, may dip eagerly into the same Bethesda, and emerge unscarred and comely as a child. W. M. Punshon.