Your case is sad — very sad!
(James Smith, "The Way to Be Saved!" 1856)
"Then the King will turn to those on the left and say: Away with you, you cursed ones, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his demons!"
"And they will go away into eternal punishment!" Matthew 25:41, 46
Lost sinner, your case is sad — very sad! You are an enemy to God, in open and avowed rebellion against Him! You are forcing your passage to blackness, darkness, and eternal woe, through a thousand obstacles which are thrown in your way! And, O how fearful will your end be! What, O what a dreadful end, must yours be!
In Hell, you will be forever deprived of the glorious presence of God!
You will never see light — but be in perpetual darkness!
Your abode will be a prison, where there is . . .
no comfort — but horror;
no voice — but of blasphemers cursing God;
no sounds — but the howling of the tortured;
no society — but devils and damned people. And these being tormented themselves, will eternally torment you!
You must experience . . .
punishment, without pity;
misery, without mercy;
sorrow, without support;
crying, without comfort;
mischief, without measure;
torment, without ease;
where the worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched!
The wrath of God will seize upon your soul and body, like fire! And in the flame, you will be . . .
forever burning — but never consumed;
ever dying — but never dead;
ever roaring with pain — but know no end of these pains.
Your torments will be always, beginning.
Your reflections will be, "All this, I procured by my sin! This I chose — in preference to Heaven! I myself am to blame for my destruction — and God is just!"
Great God, awaken, awaken the sinner! Open, O open his eyes! Snatch, O snatch him as a brand from the burning — and save him through Jesus' blood!! If this is not the case, lost sinner, you may look forward, and exclaim:
Infinite years in torments shall I spend,
And never, never, never end!
Ah! I must live in torturing despair,
As many years — as atoms in the air!
When all these doleful years are spent in pain,
And multiplied by myriads again,
Til numbers drown thought; could I suppose
That then my wretched years were at a close.
This would afford some ease; but, ah, I shiver —
To think upon the dreadful word, FOREVER!
The burning gulf, where I blaspheming lie,
Is time no more — but vast eternity!