“No, George,” she gently replied, “you were once a good boy;” and then, after hesitating a moment, she said, “do you pray now, brother?”
He looked at her in a dreamy way, and said, “I pray! I cannot pray!” then his eye kindled, and he continued, “I am not to blame; when you and I wanted to be good father would not let us, but taught us that Sabbath-breaking, swearing, dancing and drinking were only amusements that everybody should enjoy; and we soon learned to like these things, Mary—and where am I now?” She leaned her head upon her hands and sighed; then rousing herself, said hopefully, “It is not too late yet, George; God has been merciful to me, and has pardoned all my sins; if you repent as I did, He will not cast you off; but you must pray, George, with all your heart.”
Looking into her eyes, he replied by saying, “You pray for me, Mary.” Kneeling down, she brought her poor, sinful brother’s case before the Mercy-seat; but there was no godly sorrow for sin in his heart—the fear of death made him wish for prayers. Had he been at liberty, he would have been as bad as ever; and no wonder pardon was not granted. After Mary rose from her knees, she had some further conversation with her brother, and then took leave of him with a heavy heart. This was their last meeting. The time for George’s trial arrived; the court-room was crowded with curious and idle spectators; the prisoner was brought forward to answer the charge of murder; he pleaded “Not guilty.” A plea of insanity was set up by his counsel, and an artful defense made for him; but the case was clear, and the testimony against him overwhelming.
The Judge of the district was Henry Brown. The prisoner was directed to stand up; the Judge asked him if he had anything further to say, why sentence of death should not be pronounced; he shook his head and faltered, “No.” After receiving his sentence, he desired to see the Judge. They met. Neither could speak—a convulsive pressure of hands was all that passed between them.
What a contrast is here! Both men occupied the same social position in childhood; yet a difference in training and associations brought about the present result. May God help us to take warning!
Thirty days were given the prisoner to prepare for the eternal future. His jailer was kind to him, and offered to get him any religious advice he desired; at first he refused to see any one, but as the time of death drew nearer, he consented; the missionary to whom he had given a cup of water in his boyhood was ready and anxious to go to him; and no sooner had he received George’s permission, than he was at his side, endeavoring to shed light upon his darkened understanding; but the good man’s prayers and advice seemed to produce little or no impression upon the mind and heart of George. He felt that there was no hope for him, and as the missionary left him he requested him to preach his funeral sermon, and in doing so, warn others not to follow the example of one whose earthly career was short, and ended in death and everlasting misery.
We will now draw a veil over the closing scene in the life of this young man. In doing so, we would say to the Sunday-school scholar, bear in mind your great privileges—do not abuse them—do not consider it a task, but a pleasure, to prepare the lessons given you—keep ever before your mind the fact, that it is your soul’s eternal interest, and God’s glory, for which you must work.
The missionary lived several years after his return to his Eastern home; and, like Paul, he would frequently write an epistle to his brethren in the West—thus could their hearts still commune with each other. But the time came when this laborer in the Master’s vineyard was called to rest. The close of his life was as calm as the summer evening upon which he was called. With the apostle he could say, “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give at that day—and not to me only, but unto all them that love His appearing.”
Compare the death of the earnest, working Christian, with that of the opposer of truth or of the cold-hearted formalist. After death comes the judgment!—and the Saviour has said, that the former shall live and reign with Him, whilst the latter shall go away into everlasting punishment.
Reader, to which of these classes do you belong?