#(oS3 
 
 v I iudud r iu 
 
No. 34. 
 
 WHAT ARE YOU FIT FOR? 
 
 A party of railway workers were busily talking 
 together, when they were joined by a steady, quiet-look- 
 ino- man well known to some of them, but whose visits 
 were not always welcome. Mr. Monck's corning amongst 
 them, however, did not put a stop to the conversation. 
 Jack Bunce was telling his companions something that 
 had happened in the morning, and had caused him 
 much fun and amusement. 
 
 " Well," continued he, " as I was saying, you 'II 
 hardly believe it, but that poor, weakly old man applied 
 for work on our line. • I can do a good day's work with 
 the best of them,' says he, while his limbs tottered so 
 that he could hardly walk up the hill." 
 
 "What did the foreman of the works answer him?, 
 asked William Reynolds. 
 
 "Why," returned Jack, "he could scarcely keep 
 from laughing, but he spoke kindly enough and said : 
 My good fiiend, I fear our work is too hard for you; 
 you are not tit to undertake it. The soil is bad about 
 here, and our strongest men are sometimes out of heart; 
 but all he could say the old fellow pressed and pressed 
 to be taken on, till Mr. McNabb lost all patience and 
 bid him be gone, he had other business to' attend to, and 
 
WHAT ARE YOU FIT FOR f 
 
 turned away ; and then the old man walked off, looking 
 quite down and disappointed." 
 
 " What an old goose he must be," said Robert Jones, 
 " I've been working on the railway off and on these ten 
 years, but the bit we are now on is the worst I ever 
 tried." 
 
 " Why, my bit of a boy, Charles, " said Jack, " could 
 do a better day's work than that old man, but he's not 
 fit for this tough sort of business, which takes pretty 
 well all my strength." 
 
 "Mr. McNabb has had some strange beggars to-day," 
 said William Reynolds, "James Browne has been ask- 
 ing him for a month's wages since he has been laid 
 up !" 
 
 " Why," said another man, "he has had his club 
 money, and a help from the line as well, and yet does 
 he ask for all his wages ?" 
 
 " It's plain," said Jack, " he '11 lose nothing for lack 
 of asking, but there don't seem much justice in expect- 
 ing to be paid wages for work he has never done." 
 
 " Certainly not," said Robert Jones, " no work no 
 wages, is as fair as^hard work, good wages : both of 
 which we have had the luck to light on just now." 
 
 Mr. Monck, who had held his tongue all this while, 
 now turned to Robert Jones and said : "The office of 
 Parish clerk in this parish is vacant, I hear; there is a 
 very fair salary and many chance fees; would it be 
 well for you to apply for it?" 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Robert, scratching his head 
 and looking at Jack, "why, you see, it would be a 
 strange tiling for the congregation on Sunday, to see 
 a man get into the clerk's desk, and try to give out a 
 psalm, when he could neither read the verse, nor sing 
 the tune !" 
 
 Mr. Monck. " But the salary is good." 
 
WHAT ARE YOU FIT FOR ? 3 
 
 Robert. "May be for them as is fit for it; but I am 
 not going to make such a fool of myself as to apply for 
 what I arn't fit for/' 
 
 Mr. Monck. " William Reynolds, suppose you try 
 for it." 
 
 William laughed and said, " I never go to church, 
 and I don't mean to go till I'm carried there. I work 
 hard all the week, and I think I've a right to take a bit 
 of pleasure on Sundays." 
 
 Mr. Monck. "Jack Bunce, what do you say?" 
 
 Jack. " Do you think I 'm fit for it?" 
 
 Mr. Monck. " As you ask me the question, No; I 
 wish you were 1 ." 
 
 Jack. " Then what are you after, telling us to go 
 and make fools of ourselves?" 
 
 Mr. Monck. " I only advise you to act in this matter 
 in the same way in which you act in matters of much 
 greater importance." 
 
 Jill the men. " What do you mean by that ?" 
 
 Mr. Monck. "That you are all wise men as regards 
 the affairs of the body, but act like very foolish ones as 
 regards the affairs of the soul. You see plainly enough 
 that no man ought to expect a situation here which he 
 is not fit for, and that it is unjust to expect high wages 
 for little or no work, yet in affairs of the soul you see 
 neither of these truths clearly." 
 
 "Say out at once what you mean," said the men. 
 
 Mr. Monck. " Let me ask you each one question ; 
 where do you expect to go when you die, Robert 
 Jones?" 
 
 Robert. " I 've as good a right to expect to go to 
 heaven as most men. You know I'm no drunkard : I 
 lay by my earnings, and go to church when I can." 
 
 Mr. Monck. "And you, William?" 
 
 William. "I don't think much about it, but I'm sure 
 
4 WHAT ARE YOU FIT FOR? 
 
 I 'm not so bad as many, though I do spend my Sundays 
 as I choose." 
 
 Mr. Monck. h And you, Jack Bunce ?" 
 
 " Well, really, sir," said Jack, smiling, "you know 
 I'm a pretty good father, and my wife can speak no bad 
 of me ; I bring up my family honestly, and do my duty 
 to my neighbor." 
 
 Mr. Monck. '« Can any of you tell me how long 
 heaven will last ?" 
 
 Jack. " They say for ever and ever." 
 
 Mr. Monck. "Yes, forever and ever — a word easier, 
 my man, to speak than to think about. I have heard 
 that an old scholar used to say it was the most solemn 
 and the most wonderful word in the whole Bible. And 
 what sort of place is heaven ? A place where no sor- 
 row can enter and no tear be shed, where all will be 
 perfectly happy, and where the soul will enjoy bliss 
 greater than you and I can think of, and that for hun- 
 dreds, thousands, millions of years, and then be no 
 nearer the end of it than it was at the beginning. 
 Robert Jones, you expect to enjoy this never-ending, 
 unspeakable happiness because you are no drunkard, 
 but save your earnings to become a rich man, and 
 sometimes go to church on Sundays, giving two short 
 hours to God once a week, and spending the other one 
 hundred and sixty-six in going after your own ways. 
 William, you expect the same good things because you 
 are no worse than others. Jack, you expect them also 
 because you bring up your family well, and pay your 
 way honestly. Now, I ask you whether, fairly and 
 justly, such work deserves such wages? Suppose you 
 live sixty years, and each day of each year keep from 
 one sin, and do one right thing, would it be just to 
 expect hundreds and thousands and millions of years of 
 
WHAT ARE YOU FIT FOR f 5 
 
 happiness as payment ? Do such wages bear the small- 
 est possible fair proportion to such work ?" 
 
 "That's just like you," said William, "thinking no 
 one will be saved but yourself." 
 
 Mr. Monck. "What I think matters very little. I 
 ask you now one simple question. In common honesty, 
 in common justice, ought such an amount of work to 
 expect such an amount of wages?" 
 
 Jack. "Why, if you put it in that way, I suppose 
 we can't say that it ought." 
 
 Mr. Monck. "Then, aga : n, by your own shewing, 
 you look upon that man as a fool here who applies for a 
 situation for which he is utterly unfit." 
 
 All. "Of course, we do." 
 
 Mr. Monck. u What kind of place is Heaven ?" 
 
 William. "I don't know, I never was there." The 
 men winked at each other, and laughed. 
 
 Mr. Monck. "My friends, God in his great mercy 
 grant we may all one day see # that bright and happy 
 place. Death is no laughing matter. Eternity is no 
 laughing matter. Heaven is no laughing matter. Hell, 
 hell is no laughing matter." 
 
 The solemn, grave manner in which he spoke sobered 
 them all in spite of themselves. 
 
 Mr. Monck continued : "I know if we were placed 
 in heaven as we are now in the sight of God, our flesh 
 would never be able to bear it. We should faint and 
 die at once. If God has ever shown men a small part 
 of his glory even, they have been unable to stand the 
 sight of it without special strength given to them by 
 God. My friends, Heaven is a HOLY place : God is a 
 HOLY God: the saints and angels in heaven are all 
 HOLY. ' Holiness becomes God's house for ever.' 
 Nothing unholy can enter there. It is written in the 
 Bible, 'There shall in nowise enter into it anything 
 
6 WHAT ARE YOU FIT FOR ? 
 
 that denleth.' And again, 'without holiness no man 
 shall see the Lord.' Now, tell me, -are you holy? 
 Have you ever prayed to God to give you his Holy 
 Spirit which can alone make you holy? Are you made 
 new in the spirit of your minds? Are heavenly things, 
 are holy things, your delight? God's holy word, his 
 holy day, his holy worship, are these your pleasures? 
 In a word, are you holy? Or are you striving to 
 become so? Are you made fit for heaven? Are you 
 asking God to make you so? Otherwise it is plain and 
 clear that, in hoping and expecting to go to heaven, you 
 are hoping for and expecting a situation for which you 
 are altogether unfit. You are acting as regards the 
 soul, in a manner in which if a man acts as regards 
 earthly things, you look upon him as a fool — a madman. 
 And you judge rightly, it is folly — it is madness to 
 expect wages for work never done, or to expect that the 
 Holy God would give you a place for which you have 
 never tried to become fit*" 
 
 Jack. u Well, sir, there 's time enough yet to think 
 about such things." 
 
 Mr. Monch. u A poor excuse that, Jack. Why, you 
 can't live on a railway and not see that a man has not a 
 minute that he can call his own. You all remember 
 John Walker. Poor lad ! he was not twenty years old. 
 I passed him on Friday and heard him with an oath say 
 he wished he was dead, and on the Monday after lie 
 was a corpse. He was driving the tip-horse, failed in 
 slipping quickly enough out of the way, and before he 
 had time to say one prayer, was caught by the iron 
 wheel of the cart and crushed to death." 
 
 Jill the men. "May be, sir, death might do something 
 for the poor fellow. " 
 
 Mr. Monch. u No, my friends, no. Death is no con- 
 juror. It just takes a man out of one place and puts 
 
WHAT ARE YOU FIT FOR? 7 
 
 him into another without making a bad man's heart 
 better, or his tastes holier; as he leaves this world, so 
 he enters the next. Just what a man sows here, he 
 reaps there. As well might the sailor try to swim across 
 the ocean on a straw, as a man who has lived and died 
 unholy to cross to the regions of happiness and sinless- 
 ness above. And now, one word more to you all and I 
 will say good morning. Eternal life is not to be earned 
 as wages for work done. It is the gift of God through 
 the Lord Jesus Christ. He has earned it for all who 
 will come to him for it, desiring to lay down their sins 
 at his feet. No efforts of our own can make us fit for 
 heaven, but God has promised the help of his Holy 
 Spirit to all who ask it. If I am saved, it will be by 
 God's mercy and goodness alone. If YOU are saved, 
 you must owe it to the same mercy and goodness. 
 That mercy and goodness flows to a man through Christ, 
 and through Christ only. Unless you receive it through 
 him, and on his own terms, you will never have it at all. 
 Come, then, to Jesus. He is willing to wash you in his 
 blood and clothe you with his righteousness. He is 
 ready to make your heart and life holy by his Spirit 
 He is able to make you fit to dwell with him in heaven. 
 He will give his~best gifts to ail who humbly and 
 earnestly ask. 'Ask and ye shall receive, that your 
 joy may be full.' " 
 
WHAT ARE YOU FIT FOR i 
 
 Ye dying sons of men, 
 
 Immerged in sin and woe, 
 The gospel's voice attend, 
 
 While Jesus sends to you : 
 Ye perishing and guilty, come ; 
 In Jesus' arms there yet is room. 
 
 No longer now delay, 
 
 Nor vain excuses frame : 
 He bids you come to-day, 
 
 Though poor, and blind, and lame : 
 All things are ready, sinner, come ; 
 For every trembling soul there 's room. 
 
 Believe the heavenly word 
 
 His messenger's proclaim ; 
 He is a gracious Lord, 
 
 And faithful is his name : 
 Backsliding souls, return and come ; 
 Cast off despair, there yet is room. 
 
 Compelled by bleeding love, 
 Ye wandering souls draw near, 
 
 Christ calls you from above, 
 His charming accents hear ! 
 
 Let whosoever will, now come: 
 
 In mercy's breast there still is room. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY THE SOUTH CAROLINA TRACT SOCIETY 
 Printed by Erans k Cogswell, No. 3 Broad street, Charleston, S. C 
 
Hollinger Corp. 
 pH 8.5