WE were quietly engaged in our classes at the Sunday school, when a knock at the door was heard, and a woman, with a child in her arms, asked if anyone would come and see her sister, who she said lay dying.
School ended: we prayed the Lord to send a word of salvation to the poor sufferer; for pain and death are terrible things to be encountered by the soul that is unwashed and unsaved.
I found the house from the description given me, and, as I ascended the staircase, the woman who had called at the school welcomed me, and begged me to enter an inner apartment, where lay the object of my visit. The room was better furnished than the exterior of the house had led me to expect, and bore about it an air of homely comfort, indicating the hand of provident care. Some children were playing about, and a woman who was present acted as nurse.
On approaching the bed at the further corner of the room I recognized the face of one who had occasionally been at our gospel meetings. Her face bore the traces of former comeliness, but wore that pinched and flushed appearance which denotes intense suffering; her lips were parched, and her respiration difficult. She was fast and surely sinking.
Bending down, I spoke a few words of sympathy, and then, in tender love, asked, “Are you ready to die?" Fixing her eyes on mine, she replied, with difficulty, "No—I've—been—a—great—sinner."
I felt thankful that the Holy Spirit had wrought in her heart this conviction of sin, for He alone can impart a real sense of being unfit for the eye and presence of the Lord. The mere assent, so common to the truth, that "we are all sinners," is not enough; but the heart-learned and honest conviction which leads to the confession, "Behold, I am vile," ever accompanies true conversion to God. There was here no need for stripping the poor soul from fancied righteousness: she was seeking the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ -the only name under heaven given among men whereby we must be saved.
I read from the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah of the Man of Sorrows, wounded and bruised, upon whom the Lord laid the iniquity of us all, and who, having "once suffered for sins," God had raised from the dead—
“The Lord, almighty now to save
From sin, from death, from endless shame."
As a thirsty traveler receives water, so did this poor, dying woman receive the gospel of Jesus Christ. With the simplicity of a child she believed God's word. Seeing her much exhausted, I left, after committing her to the Lord, with a promise to return at a later hour.
In the evening I returned. She was free from pain, and was expecting me. Her room was filled with loving friends. Her husband, a man of rough exterior, but with a soft heart, sat near her, and her aged mother silently watched beside the bed, a tear now and then trickling down her wrinkled cheek.
God was about to give a sweet testimony to His own grace and power in her who had passed all human hope, and was so soon to bid the poor world farewell.
“She has been longing for you," said her sister, " and feared you would na come."
Looking up for guidance, I opened my Bible at Luke 7, and read: "And, behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster box of ointment, and stood at His feet behind Him weeping." While reading, I observed the sufferer's eyes intently fixed upon my face. I read to the end of the chapter, laying special stress upon the words, " Thy sins are forgiven ... thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace."
I then asked her before all who were present, “Are you a sinner, like this woman?” “Yes," she answered.
“And you trust in Jesus alone for salvation?” “Yes."
“Now are you like the woman when she entered Simon's house-unforgiven, unsaved, and at enmity with God? or are you like her when she came out-forgiven, saved by faith, and told to go in peace? "
She summoned up strength, and said, with laboring breath, decidedly and distinctly, "I am— like— her—when—she—came out."
Oh! the grace of God which gives boldness to the guilty to draw near—the perfection of that love which casts out all fear! Now she was at peace-peace, not the result of works of righteousness which she had done, but won for her by the Lord Jesus Christ, was hers. It was a blessed confession to the mercy of God, and I was not slow to use the golden opportunity to press upon each one present the necessity of accepting His gift, so freely offered to all who will come to Him.
Once again I stood beside that bed. The pallid face spoke of speedy decay, but peace, calm as a river, rested in the heart of the dying woman, for she had come to Jesus, and left her weary burden at His feet.
“He that believeth on the Son hath life: but he that believeth not the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him." Unconverted reader, beware lest you trifle with the “great salvation." Now, near you, even in your mouth, and in your heart, is the word of faith which we preach, “That if thou shalt confess with thy month the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised Him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation. For the scripture saith, Whosoever believeth on Him shall not be ashamed."
Oh! sweet word of grace! Are you ashamed to confess yourself a lost, vile, hell-deserving sinner? Better do so in time than have "confusion of face” for eternity. The Lord Jesus will own you now as an object for His saving power, His cleansing blood, His infinite love. Cast yourself upon Him now, as you are, and you will find that this “Man receiveth sinners." T. R. D.