Over The Rapids And Lost

I remember once riding from Buffalo to the Niagara Falls. I said to a gentleman, "What river is that, sir?" "That," he said, "is the Niagara River." "Well, it is a beautiful stream," I said, "bright, and fair, and glassy. How far off are the rapids?" "Only a mile or two," was his reply. "Is it possible that only one mile from us we shall find the water in the turbulence which it must show near to the Falls?" "You will find it so, sir."

And so I found it, and the first sight of Niagara Falls I shall never forget.

Now launch your bark on that Niagara River; it is bright, smooth, beautiful, and glassy. There is a ripple at the bow; the silver wake you leave behind adds to your enjoyment. Down the stream you glide, oars, sails, and helm in proper trim; and you set out on your pleasure excursion. Suddenly someone cries out from the bank, "Young men, ahoy!"

"What is it?"

"The rapids are below you!"

"Ha, ha! We have heard of the rapids, but we are not such fools as to get there. If we go too fast, then we shall up with the helm and steer to the shore. We will set the mast in the socket, hoist the sail, and speed to the land. Then on, boys; don't be alarmed. There is no danger."

"Young men, ahoy, there!"

"What is it?"

"The rapids are below you!"

"Ha, ha! We shall laugh and quaff; all things delight us. What care we for the future? No man ever saw it. Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof. We will enjoy life while we may; we catch pleasure as it flies. This is enjoyment; time to steer out of danger when we are sailing swiftly with the current."

"Young men, ahoy, there! Beware! Beware! The rapids are below you!"

Now you see the water foaming all around. See how fast you pass that point! Up with the helm! Now turn. Pull hard! Quick! Quick! Quick! Pull for your lives. Pull till the blood starts from your nostrils, and the veins stand like whipcords upon your brow. Set the mast in the socket! Hoist the sail! Ah, ah! It is too late!

Shrieking, cursing, howling, and blaspheming, over they go. Thousands go over the rapids every year through the power of habit, crying all the while, "When I find out that it is injuring me, I will give it up."

Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost to friends, to families, to loved ones, to society. Over the rapids and lost.

When John B. Gough penned this powerful essay in 1877, he could never have imagined some of the noxious addictions sweeping so many to destruction today. Drugs. Pornography. Rock music. Loose morals. Remarkably, the justification is unchanged: "When I find out that it is injuring me, I will give it up." And so they go...over the rapids and lost.

Copyright 1999 James McAlister

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