THIS morning as I walked by the sea, a man was preaching on the sands to
about a dozen people, and I stopped for a few minutes to listen. He told
us that we were lying under the wrath of God, that we might die at any
moment, and that if we did not believe in the Lord Jesus we should be
damned everlastingly. ‘Believe in the Lord,’ he shouted, ‘believe or you
will be lost; you can do nothing of yourselves; you must be saved by
grace alone, by blood, without blood is no remission of sins. Some of
you think, no doubt, you are good people, and you may be, as the world
goes, but your righteousness is as filthy rags, you are all wounds and
bruises and putrefying sores; the devil will have you if you don’t turn
to the Lord, and you will go down to the bottomless, brimstone pit, where
shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth for ever and ever. Believe,’ he
roared, ‘now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation.’
Sunny clouds lay in the blue above him, and at his feet summer waves were
breaking peacefully on the shore, the sound of their soft, musical plash
filling up his pauses and commenting on his texts.