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An aged minister in Edinburgh, whose name, if I were to mention it, you would all know, some time ago addressed a great gathering of young converts. In most thrilling and pathetic terms did he refer to his own long experience. "Young men," did the old saint say, "when I came first to Christ, now long, long ago, I had an idea, unexpressed but real, that by and by I would become so inherently holy, I would not need to bemoan myself in this debasing way before the cross. I would not need to bring myself always down as a foul, polluted soul, a beggar in filthy rags before the holy God. Ah! I was proud, and so are you, dear young convert. Take care. But now I am an old man, the snows of time are on my head, more than a whole half-century has rolled by, and as I stand before you I can hear, but a few paces in front of me, the low dash-dash of the wave of eternity on the beach where I'm soon to embark for the other side. I can hear the flap of the sail as the pale boatman, Death, grates his waiting keel on yon ready strand. Ay, I'll very soon be in eternity, and this morning what did I do? Well, after sixty years of knowing and loving my Saviour, I came to the Lord Jesus this morning, as I came at the first, as a poor, perishing, hell-deserving sinner, pleading his own precious blood, with no hope but his death, no trust nor rest in anything else. Christ was the beginning, and he will be the end." A grand testimony this to the Lord's degree. Yes, Christ all the way, the A and Z of the human heart, first, last, and forever.
"When I draw this fleeting breath, When mine eyelids close in death, Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee!"
-- J. Robertson.
By J. Wilbur Chapan, "Present Day Parables."
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