Ready

“Ttthen Death calls the roll, always be WW ready to answer, Here!” was the everyday motto of the famous trapper of the prairie. It was the shrewd backwoodsman’s paraphrase of a still wiser and holier maxim, “Be ye also ready; for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of Man cometh.” This is one of our Saviour’s aphorisms that will be always timely to the end of time. Every one admits its truth. Every one will admit the necessity of preparation for death. And yet there may be many a reader of these pages, who is within a few months, or even a few weeks of the eternal world, and yet has a very indistinct idea of what constitutes a fit preparation for death. Perhaps the following brief questions may aid those who are sincerely desirous not to be found wanting when the grim messenger — in the trapper’s expressive phrase — “calls the roll.”

I. Is your business in the right state to be left? We do not mean, is every honest debt paid? for it is hardly possible for even the most careful merchant or mechanic to so manage his affairs as to be entirely free from even the smallest obligations. But we do mean that every man should endeavor, as a matter of conscience, to keep his affairs in such a well-ordered state, that if death should meet him in the rail-car, or smite him from the summer-cloud, his creditors should not suffer the unjust loss of a single farthing. Nor should his executors be obliged to wade through a quagmire of confusion in order to arrive at an accurate knowledge of his estate, and its indebtedness. It is no more honest to cheat our fellow men from our coffins than to cheat them while alive. The debt I bequeath to my family or my executors is just as binding as the note that to-day lies in the bank with my signature on its face. It is hardly worthy of a Christian manhood to “take the benefit of the act” by creeping into one’s sepulchre. Let us see to it that no reproaches of the wronged and the defrauded are ever heard above our sleeping dust.

II. Have you made your will? Some men are absolutely afraid to make their wills, lest death should overhear the scratch of the pen, and be the sooner in his summons to them to lay down the pen for ever. This is a strange and yet a very common superstition. Many a man dreads to draw up a will as if it were the signing of his own death-warrant. We will waste no words on such preposterous folly. Make a will, my friend! if you have no more property to devise than had that” poor minister of Christ who sat down and wrote, “I bequeath to my darling wife my Bible and my sermons and my few books; to my dear children I bequeath these words, / have been young and now I am old, yet have I never seen the righteous forsaken or his seed begging bread.” The first provision in a good man’s will should be for those whom God has made fairly dependent on him. Healthy and well-educated children do not always, of necessity, belong to this class. But infirm parents and bedridden kinsfolk commonly do. When we have provided for all who have an honest claim on our posthumous support, then it is wisest to make Christ our largest legatee. Christians — ay, and impenitent worldlings too — ought to remember that their wills are not only to be recorded in the surrogate’s office, but in those books which will be opened on the day of judgment. Give everything you can spare to the Lord while you live; and leave him the rest when you die. It will be a blessed thing to have some well-trained orphan, or liberated slave, or Christianized outcast, come and plant roses on our tomb, and say with grateful tears, “Here lies one who cared for my soul.”

III. Are you forgiven?

We do not refer now to such unhappy griefs or injuries as you may have thoughtlessly or intentionally inflicted on your fellow men. Let not the sun of life go down on such wrongs unatoned. Let no injuries or harsh words unrepaired be buried with you in your coffin. It will be enough to make the nettles grow out of the greensward that covers your ashes.

But we refer especially at present to that forgiveness that you are to seek through the mediation of the Saviour. Friend! you need forgiveness. That long hideous catalogue of sins; not mere mistakes, not mere slips of the hand and tongue, not mere infirmities, but SINS black as midnight in God’s view, they must be forgiven or you are lost. Those evil words that ought to have blistered the mouth that uttered them — those ungrateful deeds flung back into the face of heavenly love — those breakings of God’s holy law — those profaned Sabbaths, and lost opportunities for saving souls — those woundings of Christ and grievings of the Spirit — those sins so exceeding sinful, have they been blotted out? The path of pardon you probably know. It leads to the cross of Christ. “Through his name whosoever believeth in him shall receive remission of sins.” In the pages of my Bible I read, “He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” Have you made honest confession of your offences against God? Have you clenched the sincerity of your confession by abandoning all discovered sin, and by refusing any quarter to your dearest lusts? Have you earnestly and believingly sought pardon throuo;h the atoning Saviour? Then do not distress yourself about any “unpardonable sin,” There will be none such standing against you on God’s book. For he has pledged himself to forgive every sin that you repent of in the name of

Christ, and which you abandon to please your Redeemer. Blessed is the man whose transgressions are covered! Blessed is the man to whom God imputeth not sin!

Many other important questions might be started. But if you can give a prompt unhesitating ~Yes to the above-named interrogations, then fear not to hear your own name in the fatal roll-call. You are ready to answer, “Here!” You need not to be either ashamed or afraid to make your appearance at the door of your Father’s house. That door will open to you with an “abundant entrance.” You will need to shed no tears on your dying bed. In view of parting with life you may say, with one of England’s sweetest singers:

“Life! we have been long together, Through pleasant and through cloudy weather,

‘Tis hard ‘to part when friends are dear,

Perhaps ‘twill cost a sigh, a tear;
Then steal away, give little warning,

Choose thine own time; Say not good-night; -but in that happier clime,

Bid me good-morning /”