A Word to the Unsaved.

MY brother, my sister in sin, let me ask you in love, have you found peace—have you found happiness? Perhaps some of you have been trying to get peace to a troubled conscience by plunging deeper into sin; perhaps some of you may be seeking to obtain happiness in the empty pleasures of the world. You have no peace; you have no happiness. Peace you could not have while living “afar off” from the Prince of Peace—Jesus—and seeking it in the world. As well you might leave the peaceful harbour and launch out into the wide ocean, where the storms of heaven are raging, in search of a quiet anchorage. True happiness you cannot have while turning your back on God, the fountain and source of all happiness, and seeking it in the things of earth. A peace you may have till the end, and "no bands in death;” but it is the soul-destroying peace that Satan gives his own. A happiness you may have in pursuing shadows—in hunting butterflies—in chasing bubbles—in word, in living for pleasure, for self, for earth; but will it stand the test of the death-bed—will it stand the test of the great White Throne? I answer No! You cannot be truly happy while living thus "without God” in the world. Those lightning flashes of gaiety and vanity in which you indulge, glittered for a moment and then expired, leaving you in deeper, and darker gloom than before; but peace and happiness—the calm, sunshine of the soul you have never known. Perhaps some secret sorrow like a canker-worm preys upon your heart, turning all there to desolation, decay, death; while smiles, which leave the heart all dark, sparkle on your cheeks, and laughter, which leaves the heart all sad lonely, echoes from your lips, like gleans of sunshine passing over a sepulchre.
“There is no peace,” saith my God, to the wicked.” Ah! you say, “that does not mean me, I am not wicked; I am amiably, and good, and religious, and charitable." But, I ask you," Are you saved—washed in the precious blood of Jesus?" Unconverted sinner, answer the question, as you read it, honestly to God. All who are not "in Christ" are regarded as "wicked,"  "children of the Devil," by God—not justified—not forgiven, no matter how religious or good they are in their own eyes.
Dear brother and sister in sin, did you ever try to find satisfying happiness in this world on anything like the grand scale that Solomon did? He exhausted completely every plan, every device that human invention could suggest, for the solution of the problem of finding a happiness in the world that would last and satisfy the cravings of and fill up the empty void in his heart. What was the result? Oh! his experience is worth worlds of doctrine and theory, Vanity and Vexation!
You have perhaps made the experiment on a smaller and more insignificant scale. Tell me, have you succeeded better? If your heart could speak, would it not echo the monarch's mournful confession—Vanity, and Vexation!
Perhaps you have ceased to look for happiness and are now searching for rest. Like the dove of Noah, you are wandering over a world which sin and sorrow have deluged, seeking foy rest, but finding none; for the floods of iniquity have not left one green spot of gladness—one leafy branch of hope—one solitary shelter of consolation on which to rest. All is covered over with the deluge of sin—"the world lieth in wickedness—in the Wicked One;” but the Church of Christ, like the ark of old, calmly and peacefully floats over all this vast and awful scene of death. What an emblem is that poor, weary dove of what you are now, dear restless, Christless reader! Only stamp Eternity on her wanderings, and what an emblem would she exhibit of what—if you persevere in unbelief and perish in that state—you will for ever be!
Just imagine the waters of that great flood rolling restlessly for ever; and the dove, with weary wing and wailing cry, wandering over the wide waste of waters, seeking a resting-place for the sole of her foot, but finding none—for ever! How the heart sickens at the thought! And yet, dear reader, how very faint an emblem of the agony of a lost soul, lifting up the wailing cry, the piercing shriek of everlasting despair, as it wanders over the burning waves of the lake of eternal, unquenchable fire, seeking rest, but finding none—no, not one moments rest throughout the wild eternity of woe. But see! the dove has reached the ark—the window is opened—a hand is tenderly put forth to take her in. And, oh! how safe, how secure, how happy after all her wanderings, the weary bird now feels. No more restlessness; no more misgivings; no more wanderings; but safe in the ark, where all is peace, love, and happiness.
And is there not an ark for you, too, poor, weary, restless, unhappy one? Yes! blessed be God, there Is, and Jesus is that ark! Thousands have been sheltered there, and "yet there is room." See! the door is wide open, “Enter into rest." Hark! a voice of love is heard from the ark, saying, “Come unto Me, poor, weary wanderer, and I will give thee rest." A hand is stretched forth to take you in, 'Tis blood-stained, it has the nail mark through it. Look! What is that invitation written over the door? "If any man enter in, he shall he saved.”
Readers, hasten then, to this ark while the door is open, the hand stretched forth, and the invitation extended to you. The time is soon coming when "the door will be shut," when God will say, "I stretched out My hand, and no man regarded when the voice of love will be mute, and when the invitation will be taken away. Then it will be too late. Door shut—too late. Oh! think of it—too late! No mercy, no hope, but all the blackness and darkness of despair, and that for ever!
Come then at once; come now; the door is open, the voice of love speaks, the hand is stretched forth, the invitation is over the door. Come, enter where all is peace, love, rest, joy, happiness, and safety. Jesus pleads with you, dear sinner. He does not ask, nor require you to knock at the door to obtain admittance. The door is wide open, and you must pass the threshold and be inside before you can get at the knocker. He stands at the door—the shut door—of your heart, and beseeches you to let Him in. Undo the bolts and bars of unbelief and let Him in. May the Lord bless you, dear unsaved reader; and I pray that God may show you your lost condition and bless to your soul’s salvation the reading of this paper—for Jesu's sake.
GALBALEY, Jan. 1865. T. SHULDHAM HENRY.
“The British Herald” Feb. 1865