Sobering and Terrifying Testimony from Testimonys of Saved and Unsaved

113 -- "O MARTHA, MARTHA, YOU HAVE SEALED MY EVERLASTING DAMNATION!"
Rev. Thomas Graham, the noted revivalist preacher of the Erie Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, relates the following sad experience:
A man who lived in Westmoreland county, Pa., had strong religious feelings and had commenced a religious life. About this time he married a woman who was decidedly irreligious and who opposed him. She forced him to omit family worship; she forced him from his closet and followed him with her opposition until he finally, discouraged, gave it up. The Spirit of God left him. He told Rev. Mr. Potter, a Presbyterian minister that he was lost forever and that he knew the very time and place the Spirit took its final departure; that he was going to hell but cared nothing about it. He lived some ten years after this and then died in the most awful agonies. He asked his wife to give him a glass of water for he would obtain none where he was going. He drank it greedily; then, looking his wife in the face, exclaimed, "O Martha, Martha, you have sealed my everlasting damnation!" and died.

"I am in the flames--Pull me out, pull me out!"

045 -- "I AM IN THE FLAMES -- PULL ME OUT, PULL ME OUT!"
Mr. W____, the subject of this narrative, died in J____, New York, about the year 1883, at the age of seventy-four. He was an avowed infidel. He was a good neighbor in some respects, yet he was very wicked and made a scoff of Christianity. About seven years previous to his death he passed through a revival. The Spirit strove with him, but he resisted to the last.
One Sabbath after this, Mr. N -, who relates this sketch, was on his way to church and passed Mr. W 's house, who was standing by the gate. He said, "Come with me to church, Mr. W____." The infidel, holding out his hand, replied, "Show me a hair on the palm of my hand and I will show you a Christian." During his last sickness, Mr. N called on him often and sat up with him several nights, and was with him when he died. The infidel was conscious of his near approaching end and of the terrors of his lost condition. He said once to Mr. N____, who, as a local worker, held meetings in school houses around, "Warn the world not to live as I have lived, and escape my woe." At another time when visited by a doctor, he was groaning and making demonstrations of great agony. The doctor said, "Why do you groan, your disease is not painful?" "O, doctor," said he, "it is not the body but the soul that troubles me." On the evening of his death, Mr. N -came at ten o'clock. A friend of his was there also. As he entered the room he felt that it was filled with an awful presence as if he were near the region of the damned. The dying man cried out, "O God, deliver me from that awful pit!" It was not a penitential prayer, but the wail of a lost soul. About fifteen minutes before his death, which was at twelve, he exclaimed, "I am in the flames -- pull me out, pull me out!" He kept repeating this until the breath left his body. As the bodily strength failed his words became more faint. At last Mr. N___ put his ear down close to catch his departing whispers, and the last words he could hear were, "Pull me out, pull me out!" "It was an awful scene," said he. "It made an impression on me that I can never forget. I never want to witness such a scene again." I was talking with my friend years after, and he said those words, "I am in the flames -- pull me out, pull me out!" were still ringing in his ears. -- Written for this book by Rev. C. A. Balch, Cloverville, N. Y.

Dreadful Martyrdom of Romanus

043 -- DREADFUL MARTYRDOM OF ROMANUS
Romanus, a native of Palestine, was deacon of the church of Caesarea, at the time of the commencement of Diocletian's persecution, in the fourth century. He was at Antioch when the imperial order came for sacrificing to idols, and was much grieved to see many Christians, through fear, submit to the idolatrous command, and deny their faith in order to preserve their lives.
While reproving some of them for their weakness, Romanus was informed against, and soon after arrested. Being brought to the tribunal, he confessed himself a Christian, and said he was willing to suffer anything they could inflict upon him for his confession. When condemned, he was scourged, put to the rack, and his body torn with hooks. While thus cruelly mangled, he turned to the governor and thanked him for having opened for him so many mouths with which to preach Christianity; "for," he said, "every wound, is a mouth to sing the praises of the Lord." He was soon after slain by being strangled. -- Foxe's Book of Martyrs.

THE GREAT DANGER IN NOT SEEKING THE LORD WHILE HE MAY BE FOUND

060 -- THE GREAT DANGER IN NOT SEEKING THE LORD WHILE HE MAY BE FOUND
At one time during a prayer-meeting in about the year 1890, my attention was directed towards an unsaved lady who was present, who appeared to be trifling. The pastor in charge of the meeting made the remark that as a watchman upon the walls of Zion, he felt that there was danger for someone there; he could not understand why he was impressed with this thought, and repeated that he felt drawn out to say that there was danger and someone there ought to get saved, then and there.
This irreligious lady appeared unconcerned and oblivious to his remarks, and laughed when the minister shook hands with her at the close of the meeting. Just as she was preparing to leave the church she was taken very ill, so ill that she could not go home, neither could she be taken home by friends. Everything that could be done for her relief was done, but in less than one short hour she passed into eternity. Before she died, she tore her hair, cast aside the trashy gew-gaws that adorned her person and of which heretofore she had been very fond, and throwing up her hands she cried aloud for mercy, exclaiming "Oh, Lord, have mercy on me! Oh, Lord, help me!" In this distress of body and soul she passed into the great eternity without leaving any hope to those that stood round her dying bed. This sad experience shows the danger of putting off the day and hour of salvation. "For in such an hour as ye think not, the Son of Man cometh. " -- Written for this book by Julia E. Strait, Portlandville, N. Y. 
(From Dying Testimonies of Saved and Unsaved)

To The King

Jesus would you near me be, I cannot settle on less
Lead not me into temptation here in this wilderness
Please give me strength for this race
Lest I faint and lose my pace
Lift my feeble hands when no strength remains
Oh that Thou alone would bear me maintain

To strive, to press til the crown I might win
To be used of Thee to plead men leave their sin
I, my life, will lie down for Thee
If Thou will give me grace to flee,
This wicked flesh full with sin
Thou must crucify this day and again 

Let me not be taken for a fool
To be allured by this world's deceit
Let me instead be of righteousness a tool
To be alone in thee used of thee complete
Keep thy own seal upon me dear King
To be Thine, my all and everything to thee I bring

Oh the vexation of soul
To behold this world of woe
Seeing those who make vanity their goal
And holiness their foe
Oh that it be not so

To behold the corruption 
Of blind men leading the same
To an eternity of torment and destruction
All the while these men are of Christ they claim
My soul can find no peace nor rest
Not anywhere but in my Saviour's breast

How depths of darkness and death
Did surround my soul
With nothing but my latest breath
Even this in which He did hold
I knew Him not who sought me
For His own for eternity His face to see

While I was in my sin and grief He did
Save this wretch and make her free
And under His shadow how I hid
That from sin and death I might flee
What a cross I did behold 
With new eyes and wonders untold

I once did play games and mock eternity
Living as though time did stand still
But then a glimpse of Thee did I see
And knew my frame would whither as a flower will
Time now I know is fleeting
Everlasting life or death is soon coming

Oh to be found spotless by Thee
May I blameless under thy judgment be
Only in Christ may I be found
Only charity and purity be seen to abound
Not one spot blemish nor wrinkle or blot
That the wife made ready to Him be brought

Oh Lord God that Thou wouldst save Thy remnant 
to be brought out of this world of grief 
That Thou might establish Thy people in Thy Covenant
Out of Thy mercy to give relief
To the captives, To the sheep that be Thine 
To have a thankful people to call "Mine"

To have a people, what a rarity,
Who would not for their own praise 
But for Thy praise alone have hearts full of charity,
With one desire to only upon thy face gaze
A people who murmur not at the bitter water
But their good Shepherd be all that matter

My cup, I know, is held by Thy hand
Oh would my heart Thou enlarge and expand
That I might love Thee more fervant
To burn with more passionate flame as thy servant
That I might become more nothing
For Thee to be everything

the rebel's surrender to grace.

The rebel’s surrender to grace.
Lord, what wilt thou have me to do? 

Lord, thou hast won, at length I yield, My heart, by mighty grace compelled, Surrenders all to thee; Against thy terrors long I strove, But who can stand against thy love? Love conquers even me.

All that a wretch could do, I tried, Thy patience scorned, thy pow’r defied, And trampled on thy laws; Scarcely thy martyrs at the stake, Could stand more steadfast for thy sake, Than I in Satan’s cause.

But since thou hast thy love revealed, And shown my soul a pardon sealed, I can resist no more: Couldst thou for such a sinner bleed? Canst thou for such a rebel plead? I wonder and adore!

If thou hadst bid thy thunders roll, And lightnings flash to blast my soul, I still had stubborn been: But mercy has my heart subdued, A bleeding Savior I have viewed, And now, I hate my sin.

Now, Lord, I would be thine alone, Come take possession of thine own, For thou hast set me free Released from Satan’s hard commands See all my powers waiting stand, To be employed by thee.

My will conformed to thine would move, On thee my hope, desire, and love, In fixed attention join; My hands, my eyes, my ears, my tongue, Have Satan’s servants been too long, But now they shall be thine.

And can I be the very same,

Who lately durst blaspheme thy name;

And on thy gospel tread?

Surely each one, who hears my case,

Will praise thee, and confess thy grace

Invincible indeed!

How Thou Dost Weep

If men were to see Thy goodness, God, and thy desire toward us, oh would we want Thee to come and be our Lord, but men see not. Men are blind leading the blind. How they groap in darkness, yet somehow gain composure to appear as though they still see.
Oh God how Thou dost weep!!
How thou dost weep because sinners mock and jeer Thee.
How thou dost weep because the slander of many and wickedness prevails in the world as we know it.
How thou dost weep because thou dost have such patience and longsuffering toward thine own creatures, every one, yet they hate Thy Son.
How thou dost weep because even thine very own people deny Thee.
How thou dost weep because truth falls in the streets, good is spoken evil of and evil is well spoken of.
How thou dost weep due to the great tribulation to come upon billions of souls who continue in their justified sin.
How thou dost weep for the deaf and the dumb that want not to be healed though Thou dost reach Thy hand out to them day and night they forget thee altogether.
How thou dost weep for thy desire to bring the Kingdom of Heaven upon the earth, yet thy sheep hear not thy voice nor believe thy voice.
Oh how dost Thou weep, blessed Saviour, at the sight of the Pharisees traveling land and sea just to make one convert who will be a two fold son of hell, oh woe to the Pharisees.
How thou dost weep because of the abominations of the foolish woman, loving every idolatrous glance at the world, loving to sit at her doorstep to see every blind man walking by, seeking to make a piece of bread out of them.
How Thou dost weep, Oh Christ, to see the world thou didst make and hold up by Thy true Word, full of wickedness.
How thou dost desire to bring every man to repentance, but how Thou dost weep that men hate repentance and refuse thy goodness which would lead them there.
How thou dost weep, Lord Jesus, to see the lion who prowls about and consumes many a soul through the pleasures of sin for a season.
How thou dost weep, Beloved Jesus, to see thy very own elect buffeted by the devil, tempted and overtaken by sin which hardens and leads them where Thou dost not desire them to go.
How thou dost weep for the daughters of the righteous when Haman falls upon their bed, how thy anger dost burn in jealousy for thy bride to be pure and separate.
How thou dost weep for Thy bride to be spotless, blameless, pure, harmless, without wrinkle on that Day.
How thou dost weep seeing the billions of deceived souls as their footsteps head for hell, yet they know it not.
How thou dost weep and burn with anger beholding the false prophets pervading and invading the earth speaking peace, peace when there is none at all.
How thou dost weep to see division, strife, envy, genealogies and debates in place of judgment, true righteousness, reproof, law, mercy and faith.
How thou dost weep with compassion upon the souls thou dost desire would be born again, how thou dost bring circumstance to break them, and shake them all to bring them under thy wing, but they would not.
How thou dost weep, Lord, to see men build with untempered mortar, while thou dost forbid it and plead with them.
How thou dost weep to see no man doing judgment, nor walking in righteousness and holiness.
How thou dost weep to behold thy people, called by thy Name, forbear to do judgment in their midst; which thou dost see will lead to a sure and slow death of souls within and without.
How thou dost weep and plead with souls through earthen vessels, desiring them to see Thy Son which thy did kill, yet they will not see.
How thou dost weep to behold the rage and confidence of the false professing souls, while thy truly converted people wax faint in fighting, taking their lease.
How thou dost weep to see thy backslidden children hardened in sin, oh to see them come back to their first love, to obtain eye salve and be rid of lukewarmness lest they be condemned.
How thou dost weep to see wives trample upon their husbands, if not in deed in heart, husbands hating and growing bitter against their wives; refusing thy ways.
How thou dost weep to see souls hate the foolish ways of Christ, as they despise true wisdom from above rather desiring to be wise in their own eyes, clinging to carnal fleshly devilish-wise ways; all under the guise of thy very own Name, but ends in eternal death.
How thou dost weep as men “trust” upon thy sovereignty in such a way as to subtly believe that in time all men will come around and make it to heaven, rather than believing thy judgments resting upon the heads of the wicked, believing what thy Word declares and interceeding in desperation as Moses, for reconciliation of sinful souls to a righteous indignant holy God who respects no man‘s person.
How thou dost weep to behold men refusing to do judgment upon the souls around them, upon their own closest kin, for the sake of “peace”, which will be no peace at all on that Day when those souls perish. Oh have mercy, Lord!
How thou dost weep when men cover their sins, confessing and forsaking them not, thinking contrary to thy holy Word; that they will find mercy, when thou dost solemnly say they shall not prosper, they shall not find any mercy, but rather a fearful looking to the day of judgment.
How thou dost weep to see men love vanity and seek after leasing.
How thou dost weep, Righteous Lord, to see the wicked rise up against the righteous, that love evil more than good, and lying rather than to speak righteousness, that love all devouring words, deceitful tongues.
How thou dost weep to behold those who shoot at the perfect in secret, without fear, speaking without knowledge, they search out iniquities, they accomplish a diligent search as they regard iniquity in their heart.
How thou dost weep to see corrupt trees which bring forth rancid rotten fruit speak foolishly, saying, “we be not a corrupt tree, but a good tree, bearing good fruit;” as their stench rises up to thy nostrils.
How thou dost weep over the generation that are pure in their own eyes and yet is not washed from their filthiness.
How thou dost weep over those searching the Scriptures thinking that in them they have eternal life, yet will not come to Thee to have life.
How thou dost weep when thou dost desire to do mighty works but cannot due to unbelief, oh how you would do great works, but oh how grieving it is to see thy people and the lost, hinder thy hand by pervading unbelief and compromise.
How thou dost weep when men will receive good but not evil from Thy ever-loving hand, when Thou canst not find a just man as Job was who will not charge Thee foolishly, oh how high-minded is our generation! Have mercy, Lord!
How thou dost weep to see the clay rise up against the Potter time after time, oh that the clay would submit to the Potter as he has no will of his own to claim, but oh how he thinks himself to have such a thing as this.
How thou dost weep to see the masses taking thy Name in vain, coveting everyday rather than finding contentment in Thee alone, making idols of gold and silver as men set their heart upon it, remembering not the Sabbath; for Thou art the Sabbath and how we forget you so easily.
How thou dost weep to behold those who rise up early, following strong drink, continuing until night until the wine inflame them.
How thou dost weep having gone through what no man has, or ever will go through, yet despised the shame, to make for Thyself a Bride, thy bride be given to spiritual harlotry.
How thou dost weep to behold thy people gone into captivity, because they have no knowledge, thy people being destroyed for lack of knowledge, to see hell enlargen herself and open without measure to swallow up their glory, their multitude, their pomp and rejoicing.
How thou dost weep, oh that men will not submit to thy sovereignty, that thou canst create vessels as thou dost desire, as seems good to thee, to be one to honour and one to dishonour, one fit for destruction and one for eternal life, to glorify thyself.
How thou didst weep, Lord Jesus, what burdens bowed thy head, our load was laid on thee, Thou stoodest in the sinners stead to bear all ill for me, a victim led, thy blood was shed, now there’s no load for me.
How thou didst weep, Jehovah bade his sword awake, O Christ it woke against thee; thy blood the flaming blade must slake, thy heart it’s sheath must be, all for my sake, my peace to make, now sleeps that sword for me.
How thou dost weep for Thy Father to be glorified, oh Lord, get all the glory!