or, The “Amazon,” the “Drummond Castle,” and the “Royal George.”
I would urge even upon the most youthful of my readers the necessity of immediate decision for the Lord Jesus Christ, for, leaving aside for the moment the question of the present peace and joy of the Christian, there is the uncertainty of life.
This is a very serious matter. Death often snatches away first those who seem most likely to live and prosper. The voyage of life is short for some; they seem scarcely to have put out upon the sea of time before reaching eternity.
The Amazon was a gallant vessel, greatly praised by all who beheld her noble form as she sailed forth from the Southampton Docks upon her maiden voyage. She was the best and biggest of her kind — a perfect specimen of the art of shipbuilding as known at the time, for science and skill had combined to outstrip all former productions.
It was on Friday, the 2nd of January, 1852, that she sailed, the West Indies being her destination. At one o’clock on the following Sunday morning the awful cry of “Fire! Fire!” startled the sleepers from their beds, and the black night was made lurid by the forked flames from the doomed ship, and before morning’s dawn only the wreckage of this fine vessel marked the spot where she had gone hissing down full fifteen hundred fathoms deep in the Bay of Biscay.
How like is this to many a young life cut off in an hour — gone from earth for ever! Oh, well it is for such if they have trusted Jesus as their Saviour, for in such a case to pass from earth means to be ushered into the presence of Christ, which is far better!
Others sail prosperously, for a while everything seems to go well, they are within speaking distance as it were, of the realisation of their hopes, when suddenly all is over with them, and the world sees them no more.
The wreck of the good ship Drummond Castle will not yet be forgotten. The 148 passengers and 105 of the crew were no doubt all excited with the thought of “home” the voyage was all but over, and a parting concert was held in the saloon. A vote of thanks was moved to the captain, and in reply, he spoke of the meeting of long-separated friends on the morrow. Then the National Anthem was sung, and most of the passengers retired for the night.
A fog had settled down upon the sea, and the current had carried the ship out of its course. Suddenly there was an awful shock — the engines stood still, and all was silent save for the horrible grinding of the ship’s keel upon the cruel Pierres Vertes off Ushant on the coast of France. Seven minutes after this the Drummond Castle had gone down, carrying 250 souls to their death.
How awfully sudden! And yet not more sudden than the cutting off of some. We have known such cases — men who have been cut down in their prime, with heads full of schemes and hearts full of ambition; but they have gone apparently without warning; the waters of time roll on, and, as far as this world is concerned, they are seen no more.
You may be full of vigour to-day, anticipating great success in this world, and forgetting the next. Oh, beware! you too may be cut off in a moment. You have had many warnings from God — warnings of love which longs to bring you clear of destruction; this may be your last. To-morrow may find you in the grip of death — dark and hopeless death.
The Amazon went down at the start of her voyage. The Drummond Castle was wrecked almost in sight of the port. Swift and unexpected was the destruction of both, but who could have anticipated the sinking of the Royal George.
She was an old vessel it is true, and had seen long and honourable service, for she had been the flagship of such renowned Admirals as Anson, Hawke, Rodney, and Howe. But she neither met her destruction amid the whirlwind of war, nor the blast of the storm.
“It was not in the battle;
No tempest gave the shock;
She sprang no fatal leak;
She ran upon no rock.”
Snugly anchored off Spithead, in perfect weather and broad daylight, she sank beneath the wave.
Twelve hundred souls at least were aboard at the time — mothers, sisters, wives, sweethearts, and friends. Laughter and merriment rang throughout the ship, when a sudden gust of wind struck her upon her broadside, which had been heeled up for repairs, and over she went, drowning by her terrible capsizing over 700 souls like rats in a trap.
Who could have foreseen this terrible tragedy? Every thing appeared so peaceful and secure, and none were prepared for such a calamity. But while we feel a pang for the brave —
“The brave that are no more,
All sunk beneath the wave,
Fast by their native shore,”
let not the lesson be lost upon us. We know not what a day may bring forth. Many hope to have the chance of turning to Christ on their deathbeds: you may never have one. The cold waters of death may gather round you and swallow you up speedily, and without warning.
O we warn you now do not refuse to listen, for he that being often reproved and refuses to regard the reproof, shall be suddenly cut off, and that without remedy. Christ is the Saviour. Decide for Him to-day. His blood can cleanse away your sins, and fit you for heaven then come life or death, all is well — peace and safety will be yours through Him.
Down to Earth But Heavenly Minded 
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