Wrecked for Two Worlds
“Lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway.” — 1 Corinthians ix., 27.
MINISTERS of religion may finally be lost. The apostle, in the text, indicates that possibility. Gown and gurplice and cardinal’s red bat are no security. Cardinal Wolsey’, after having been petted by kings, and having entertained foreign embassadors at Hampton Court, died in darkness. One of the most eminent ministers of religion that this country has ever known, plunged into sin and died, his heart, in post-mortem examination, found to have been, not figuratively, but literally, broken. 0 ministers of Christ! because we have diplomas of graduation, and hands of ordination on the head, and address consecrated assemblages, that is no reason why we shall necessarily reach the realm celestial. The clergyman must go through the same gate of pardon as the layman. The preacher may get his audience into heaven, and he himself miss it. There have been cases of shipwreck where all on board escaped excepting the captain. Alas! if, having “preached to others, I myself should be a castaway.” God forbid it.
I have examined some of the commentaries to see what they thought about this word “castaway,” and I find that they differ in regard to the figure used, while they agree in regard to the meaning. So I shall make my own selection, and take it in a nautical and sea-faring sense, and show you
^IQ WliECKED FOR TWO WORLDS.
that men may become spiritual castaways, and how finally they drift into that calamity.
We are a sea-board town. You have all stood on the beach. Many of you have crossed the ocean. Some of you have managed vessels in great stress of weather. There is a sea-captain; and there is another; and yonder is another; and there are a goodly number of you who, though once 3’ou did not know the difference between a brig and a bark, and between a diamond knot and a sprit -sheet -sail knot, and although you could not point out the weather- cross jack- brace, and though you could not man the fore cluegarnets, now you are as familiar with a ship as you are with your right hand, and, if it were necessarj’’, you could take a vessel clear across to the mouth of the Mersey without the loss of a single sail. Well, there is a dark night in your memory of the sea. The vessel became unmanageable. You saw it was scudding toward the shore. You heard the cry, “Breakers ahead! Land on the lee bow!” The vessel struck the rock, and you felt the deck breaking up under your feet, and you were a castaway, as when tho Hercules drove on the coast of Caflfraria, as when the Portuguese brig went staying, splitting, grinding, crashing on the Goodwins. But whether you have followed the sea or not, you all understand the figure when I tell you that there are men who by their sins and temptations are thrown helpless! Driven before the gale! Wrecked for two worlds! Cast away! cast away!
By talking with some sailors, I have found out that there are three or four causes for such a calamity to a vessel. I have been told that it sometimes comes /ro??i creating false TirjJits on the heach. This was often so in olden times. It is not many years ago, indeed, that vagabonds used to wander up and down the beach, getting vessels ashore in the night, throwing up false lights in their presence and deceiving them, that they might despoil and ransack them. All kinds of infernal arts were used to accomplish this. And one night, on the Cornish coast, when the sea was coming in fearfully, some villains took a lantern and tied it to a horse, and led the horse up and down the beach, the lantern swaying to the motion of the horse, and a sea-captain in the offing saw it, and made up his mind that he was not anywhere near the shore, for he said, “There’s a vessel; that must be a vessel, for it has a movable light,” and he had no apprehension until he heard the rocks grating on the ship’s bottom, and it went to pieces, and the villains on shore gathered up the packages and the treasures that were washed to the land. And I have to tell you that there are a multitude of souls ruined by false lights on the beach. In the dark night of man’s danger, Universalism goes up and down the shore, shaking its lantern, and men look off and take that flickering and expiring wick as the signal of safety, and the cry is, “Heave the main -topsail to the mast! All is well!” when sudden destruction cometh upon them, and they shall not escape. So there are all kinds of lanterns swung on the beach — philosophical lanterns, educational lanterns, humanitarian lanterns. Men look at them, and are deceived, when there is nothing but God’s eternal light-house of the Gospel that can keep them from becoming castaways. Once, on Wolf Crag Light-house, they tried to build a copper figure of a wolf with its mouth open, so that, the storms beating into it, the wolf would howl forth the danger to mariners that might be coming anywhere near the coast. Of course it was a failure. And so all new inventions for the saviuo; of man’s soul are unavailinc:.
What the human race wants is a light bursting forth from the cross standing on the great headlands — the light of pardon, the light of comfort, the light of heaven. You might better go to-night, and destroy all the great ligbt-houses on the dangerous coasts — the Barnegat Ligbt-bouse, the Fastnet Rock Ligbt-bouse, the Skerrjvore Ligbt-bouse, the Longship’s Light-bouse, the Hollyhead Ligbt-bouse — than to put out God’s great ocean lamp — the Gospel. Woe to those -who swing false lanterns on the beach till men crasb in and perish! Cast away I cast away!
By talking with sailors, I have beard also that sometimes sbips come to this calamity by the sudden sicooy) of a ternj)est. For instance, a vessel is sailing along in the East Indies, and there is not a single cloud on the sky; but sud- •denly the breeze fresbens, and there are swift feet on the ratlines, and the cry is, “‘Way! baul away there!” but, before they can square the booms and tarpaulin the batcbways, the vessel is groaning and creaking in the grip of a tornado, and falls over into the trougli of the sea, and, broadside-on, rolls on to the beacb and keels over, leaving the crew to struggle in the merciless surf Cast away! cast away! And so I have to tell you that there are thousands of men destroyed tbrougb the sudden swoop of temptations. Some great inducement to worldliness, or to sensuality, or to bigb temper, or to some form of dissipation, comes upon them. If they had time to examine their Bible, if tbcy bad time to consult with their friends, if they bad time to deliberate, they could stand it; but the temptation came so suddenly — a euroclydon on the IMediterranean, a whirlwind of the Caribbean. One awful surge of temptation, and tbcy perish. And so we often hear the old story,” I badn’t seen my friend in a great many years.
“Wc were very glad to meet. He said I must drink, and lie took me by the arm and pressed me along, and filled the cup until the bubbles ran over the edge, and in an evil moment all my good resolutions were swept away, and, to the outraging of God and my own soul, I fell.” Or the story is, “I had hard work to support my famih”. I knew that by one false entry, by one deception, by one embezzlement, I might spring out free from all my trouble; but the temptation came upon me so fiercely I could not think. I did wrong, and having done wrong once, I could not stop.” Oh, it is the first step that costs; the second is easier, and the third, and on to the last. Once having broken loose from the anchor, it is not so easy to tie the parted strands. How often it is that men perish for the reason that the temptation comes from some unexpected quarter! as vessels lie in Margate Roads, safe from soutliwest winds; but the wind changing to the north-east, they are driven helpless, and go dowi. Oh that God would have mercy upon those upon whom there comes the sudden swoop of temptation, that they perish not, becoming, for this world and the world to come, cast away! cast away!
By talking with sailors, I have found out also that some vessels come to this calamity through sheer recMessness. There are three million men who follow the sea for a living. It is a simple fact that the average of human life on the sea is less than twelve years. This comes from the fact that men by fiimiliarity with danger sometimes become reckless — the captain, the helmsman, the stoker, the man on the lookout, become reckless, and in nine out of ten shipwrecks it is found out that some one was awfully to blame. So I have to tell you that men lose their souls through sheer recklessness. There are thousands of my friends in this house to-night who do not care where they are in spiritual things. They do not know whether they are sailing toward heaven or toward hell, and the sea is black with pii’atical hulks that would grapple them with hooks of steel, and blindfold them, and make them “walk the plank.” They do not know what the next moment may bring forth. Drifting in their theology. Drifting in their habits. Drifting in regard to all the future. No God, no Christ, no settled anticipations of eternal felicity; but all the time coming nearer and nearer to a dangerous coast. Some of them are on fire with evil habit, and they shall burn on the sea, the charred hulk tossed up on the barren beach of the lost world. Many of them with great troubles, financial troubles, domestic troubles, social troubles; but they never pray for comfort. With an aggravation of sin that stirs up the ire of God, they pray for no pardon. They do not steer for the light-ship that dances in gladness at the mouth of heaven’s harbor; reckless as to where they come out, drifting further from God, forther from early religious influences, farther from their present happiness, farther from heaven. And, what is the worst thing about it is, that they are taking their families along with tlicm; and if one perish, perhaps they will all perish; and the way one goes, the probability is they will all go. Yet no anxiet3’’. As unconscious of danger as the passengers on board the Arctic one moment before the Vesta craslied into her. Wrapped up in the business of the store, not remembering that soon they must quit all their earthly possessions. Absorbed in their social position, not knowing that very soon they will have attended the last levee, and whirled in the last schottisch. They do not deliberately choose to be ruined; neither did the French
WliECKED FOR TWO WORLDS. 415
frigate Medusa aim for the Arguin Banks, but there it went to pieces. O ye reckless souls! I wish that to-night I could wake you up with some great perturbation. The perils are so augmented, the chances of escape are so few; you will die just as certainly as you sit there, unless you bestir yourself. I fear, my brother, you are becoming a castaway. You are making no effort, you are putting forth no exertion for escape. You throw out no oar. You take no soundings. You watch no compass. You are not calculating your bearings while the wind is abaft, and yonder is a long line of foam bounding the horizon, and you will be pushed on toward it, and thousands have perished there, and you are driving in the same direction. Ready about! Down helm! Hard down! or in the next five minutes, or four minutes, or three minutes, or two minutes, or one minute, you may be a castaway.
O unforgiven soul! if you could see your peril before God to-night on account of youV lifetime sin and transgression, there would be fifty men who would rush through this aisle crying for mercy, and there would be fifty who would rush through that aisle crying for mercy, and they would be as men are when they rush across the deck of a foundering ship, and there would be thousands of arms tossed up from the galleries; and as these Christian men rose up to help them, it would be as when a vessel drives on the rocks, and on the shore the command is, “Man the life-boat! Man the life-boat! Pull, my lads, pull! A steamer with two hundred on board makins; the last plunge!” Why does your cheek turn pale, and your heart pound until, listening, you hear it? It is because, my dear brother, you realize that, owing to your lifetime sin and rejection of God’s mercy, you are in peril, and I really believe there are thousands of people in this house this moment, saying within themselves, “What shall I do?” Do? Do? Why, my brother, do what any ship does when it is in trouble. ‘Lift a distress-signal. There is a flash, and a boom. You listen and you look. A vessel is in trouble. The distress-gun is sounded, or a rocket is sent up, or a blanket is lifted, or a bundle of rags — any thing to catch the eye of the passing craft. So if you want to be taken off the wreck of your sin, you must lift a distress -signal, liise. Lift your hand. Cry out for mercy. The publican lifted the distress-signal when he cried, “God, be merciful to me a sinner!” Peter lifted the distress-signal when he said, “Lord, save me — I perish!” The blind man lifted the distress-signal when he said, “Lord, that my eyes may be opened!” The jailer lifted the distress-signal when he said, “What must I do to be saved?” And help will never come to your soul until you lift such a signal as that. You must make some demonstration, give some sign, make some heaven -piercing outcry for help, lifting the distress-signal for the church’s prayer, lifting the distress-signal for Heaven’s pardon. Pray! pray! The voice of the Lord to-night sounds in your ears, “In me is thy help.” Too proud to raise such a signal, too proud to be saved.
There was an old sailor thumping about in a small boat in a tempest. The larger vessel had gone down. He felt he must die. The surf was breaking over the boat, and he said: “I took off my life-belt that it might soon be over, and I thought somewhat indistinctly about my friends on shore, and then I bid them good-bye like, and I was about sinking back and giving it up, when I saw a bright star. The clouds were breaking away, and there that blessed star shone down on me, and it seemed to take right hold of me; and, somehow — I can not tell how it was — but, somehow, while I was trying to watch that star, it seemed to help me and seemed to lift me.” O drowning soul! see you not the glimmer between the rifts of the storm-cloud? AVould to God that that light might lay hold of you to-night!
“Death-struck, I ceased the tide to stem,
When suddenly a star arose,
It was the Star of Bethlehem!”
0 ye castaways! God is doing every thing to save you.
Did you ever hear of Lionel Lukin? He was the inventor of the insubmergible life-boat. All honor is due his memory by sea-faring men, as well as by landsmen. How many lives he saved by his invention! In after-days that invention was improved, and one day there was a perfect life-boat, the Northumberland ready at Rarasgate. The life -boat being ready, to test it the crew came out and leaped on the gunwale on one side to see if the boat would upset; it was impossible to upset it. Then, amidst the huzzas of excited thousands, that boat was launched, and it has gone and come, picking up a great many of the shipwrecked. But I have to tell you to-night of a grander launching, and from the dry-docks of heaven. Word came up that a world was beating on the rocks. In the presence of the potentates of heaven the life-boat of the world’s redemption was launched. It shoved off the golden sands amidst angelic hosannas. The surges of darkness beat against its bow, but it sailed on, and it comes in sight to-night. It comes for you, it comes for me. Soul! soul! get into it. Make one leap for heaven. This is your last chance for life. Let that boat go past, and there remains nothing but fearful looking-for of judgment, and fiery indignation which shall devour the adversary. I am expectin o- that there will be whole flnnilies here to-night who will get into that life-boat.
In 1833 the Isabella came ashore off Hastings, England. The air was filled with sounds — the hoarse sea-trumpet, the crash of the axes, and the bellowing of the tornado. A boat from the shore came under the stern of the disabled vessel. There were women and children on board that vessel. Some of the sailors jumped into the small boat, and said, “Now, give us the children.” A father who stood on the deck took his first-born and threw him to the boat. The sailors caught him safely, and the next, and the next, to the last. Still the sea rocking, the storm howling. “Now,” said the sailors, “now, the mother;” and she leaped, and was saved. The boat went to shore; but before it got to the shore the landsmen were so impatient to help the suffering people that they waded clear down into the surf, with blankets, and garments, and promises of help and succor.
I have to hope to-night that a great many of the families here are going to be saved, and saved altogether. Give us that child for Christ, that other child, that other. Give us the mother, give us the father, the whole flimily. They must all come in. All heaven wades in to help you. I claim this whole audience for God. I pick not out one man here nor one man there: I claim this whole audience for God. There are sonie of you who, thirty years ago, were consecrated to Christ by your parents in baptism. Certainly I am not stepping over the right bound when I claim you for Jesus. Then there are many here who have been seeking God for a good while, and am T not right in claiming you for Jesus? Then, there are some here who have been farther away. I saw you come in to-night in clusters — two, three, and four men together — and you drink, and you swear, and you are bringing up your families without any God to take care of them when you are dead. And I claim you, my brother; I claim all of you. You will have to come to-night to the throne of mercy. God’s Holy Spirit is striving now with you irresistibly. Although there may be a smile on your lip, there are agitation and anxiety in your heart. You will not come at my invitation; you will come at God’s command.
[At this point in Mr. Talmage’s remarks, one of the windows in the rear part of the chinch was slammed down by some thoughtless person. The noise alarmed many in the vast congregation, and they made a rush for the doors. This had the effect of alarming others, and in a moment six thousand people were upon their feet. Mr. Talmage cried to them to “sit down.” The president of the Board of Trustees ascertained the cause of the noise, and immediately informed Mr. Talmage, who announced it, and succeeded in bringing the people to order again. That part of the congregation who had wisely kept their seats were singing the Doxology during the uproar. Nearly all of those who had left the building returned when they learned the cause of their fright, and iNIr. Talmage continued as follows:]
What! are you so afraid when there is no danger at all? Will the slamming- to of a window startle six thousand souls? Would God that you were as cautious about eternal perils as you are about the perils of time! If that slight noise sends you to your feet, what will you do when the thunders of the last day roll through earth and sky, and the mountains come down in avalanche of rock? You cry out for the safety of your body; why not cry out for the safety of your soul? You will have to pray some time; why not begin now, while all the ripe and purple clusters of Divine promise bend over into your cup, rather than postpone your prayer until your chance is past, and the night drops, and the sea washes you out, and forever and forever and forever you become a castaway?