The Last Call | AdventAI

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Feb 13, 1866

The Last Call.

AFTER two years' service in the army, Joseph W—— was at home on a furlough, and his friends were much entertained with his graphic stories of military life. He could boast of having passed through fifteen battles and skirmishes, unhurt. "I have no fear now," he said, "when I go into battle, for I think I bear a charmed life." "But remember," said his mother, "that your hour will come, and oh, my son! be entreated to prepare for it now." "I hope that hour is a great ways ahead, mother," he said, with a light laugh; but her words sank deep into his heart, and seemed constantly ringing in his ears. The death of a near friend deepened his serious impressions, and he lost his light-hearted cheerfulness, and was much in thought. He endeavored to dispel this gloom by every means in his power; not, alas! feeling that he was grieving that gentle Spirit which would have drawn him to repentance, and a hope of salvation which can take away the fear of danger and of death; which can, indeed, endow with a charmed life that life which is hid with Christ. These efforts to drive away his serious thoughts were only partially successful. The haunting fear that his hour of death might not be far distant intruded upon him in the gayest scenes, and poisoned all his enjoyment. He was not sorry, therefore, when his leave of absence expired, and he returned to the bustle of camp. I shall get rid of all this superstitious dread when I am once more with the army, and have plenty to do, he thought. He was right, for in a few weeks he had succeeded in driving away reflection, in stifling conscience, in grieving the Holy Spirit, and again his laugh was the merriest, his jokes the most telling, and his society the most coveted of any man in the regiment. Month after month passed on with no return of his former gloom. He was repeatedly exposed to danger on the battle-field, and, as before, escaped all injury. It was neither through the roaring cannon nor murderous bayonet that death was to call him to his account; but he came with stealthy steps in the form of wasting disease, and, after weeks of tedious confinement in the hospital, it was announced to him that his last enemy was just at the door. "Then I am lost!" he exclaimed. The chaplain, who was in attendance, endeavored to soothe him by setting before him the rich mercies of God, and his willingness to save to the uttermost; but he would reply, "These promises are not for me, I have sinned away my day of grace; I have frittered life away, trifled it away, been constantly joking on the verge of eternity, and now my hour of death is come, and my soul is lost. I can tell you, Mr. B——, when God called me for the last time to attend to the interests of my soul; it was when my mother urged me to prepare for death, because my hour would come. I knew she was right; but I had passed through so many battles unhurt, when others were falling thick around me, that I was fool-hardy; I thought I should always escape; I did not expect death in this form."

These remorseful self-upbraidings continued, until delirium supervened, and, at length, his sun went down in everlasting night. Reader, has the preserving mercy of God been around you in many battles, and has it not led you to repentance? Has the Spirit often repeated the blessed invitation, "Come unto Jesus," and have you refused? Take heed, lest you have already slighted your last call to the feast of love, and henceforth there remain for you only "a fearful looking-for of judgment and fiery indignation."—Sel.