"Oh! grandfather, were you much hurt?" exclaimed Rose, who had listened with breathless interest to Peter's account of his perilous adventure.
"Not badly hurt," said the blind man; "but enough bruised and shaken to be kept from the folly of trying the climbing again."
"Then you were just in the same case as your brother, though you had fancied yourself so much better able to get to the top than he."
"That's it; that's what I wished you to see," cried Peter. "It is for that I tell you the story. We were alike helpless, my child, the strong and the weak, the active and the maimed, neither could reach the top; both were just in the same danger of being drowned by the coming tide. And so it is with the matters of the soul. One man seems wiser, another better, another bolder than his fellows; but the wisest, the boldest, the best, can never reach heaven by their efforts. The way is too high, too steep, to be climbed! Their good deeds break away; they can't support them; they can't hold them up from destruction!"
"But how were you saved?" exclaimed Rose, more eager to hear the story than to gather its moral.
"My brother and I felt that there was but one thing which we could do—we must loudly call out for assistance. We cried aloud again and again; we lifted up our voices with all our might, and as God in his mercy ordered, the sound of our cry was heard from the top of the cliff. And so it is with the sinner, my child, when he feels that he is in danger of eternal death, when he finds that he has no power in himself to help himself, and that unless God come to his aid, he is lost and ruined for ever. The cry, God be merciful to me a sinner! is heard even above the heavens, and mercy comes to the rescue!"
"Was a rope let down from the top of the cliff?" asked the impatient Rose.
"A rope was let down," replied Peter, "and it was long enough, and strong enough to save us. It was let down not a minute too soon, for already the sand on which we stood was washed by every advancing wave! Sam, who was terribly frightened, at once caught hold of the rope, and clung to it as for his life. Nay, if I remember right, he fastened it round his body. But my courage, or rather presumption, had risen once more, as soon as I found that means were provided to draw us up safely beyond the reach of danger. I put on my jacket again, and passed the string of my bag of shells round my neck. 'Since I have not to climb,' cried I, 'there's no use in leaving them behind; I've no mind to part with one of 'em!' Now, mark my words, Rose, my child, I was thinking in an earthly matter as you thought just now when you said, 'if the wicked and the steady all need mercy alike, what's the use of doing good, and putting away our sins?' I believed that the rope was enough to save me; and so in truth it was; but how could I hold fast by the rope, when I carried a weight round my neck!"
"I see—I see!" exclaimed Rose; "you must leave your heavy bag behind you; for though the rope might not break, you could not keep your hold on it, while the weight was dragging you down!"
"No more than any man who wilfully keeps one sin, can continue safely to hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life. He but deceives himself if he ever tries to do so. I soon found out, as I was drawn upwards, what a fearful mistake I had made! I had not risen many feet above the sands when a horrible dread arose in my mind that I should never be able to hold on till I had reached the top of the cliff! The muscles of my arms ached terribly, my fingers could scarcely keep their grasp, and the string round my neck seemed to choke me, like the gripe of an iron hand!"