A memorial of the last days of G. S., who fell asleep in Jesus, at the age of 17.
In the Spring of 1858, a youth of 15, by nature bright and buoyant, but now feeling much the emptiness of everything and with a craving for something which could fill and satisfy his heart, was led (surely by the hand of God) to a small meeting-room at D-h, where the gospel was simply set forth by one, poor as to this world, but rich in faith; whose earnest words and fervent manner, more especially in prayer, arrested the boy’s attention, as evincing that he possessed something—some inward spring of happiness which he himself had not.
He left the room and walked to the station in order to return to Ε-r that night, and while waiting on the platform, one, much interested in his eternal welfare, said to him, “What is to hinder you from believing on the Lord Jesus this very night?” These words sunk into his heart. He returned to school, retired to his room, and “prayed with his whole heart as he had never prayed before,” (as he expressed it) for power to believe on the Lord Jesus Christ as the atonement for his sins. When did such a cry ever remain unanswered? G. S. was to be another of the many thousand witnesses to the truth of those words, “Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.” The Lord showed him not only his sin, but how it had been borne and put away by His blessed Son; and he arose a new creature in Christ Jesus.
The first desire of this dear youth, on being thus made a partaker of the riches of grace, was to go to that Lord who had purchased his soul and satisfied his heart; the next, was to serve Him. The breathings of his soul he expresses thus:
“Oh Lamb of God, I come! receive me to Thy breast;
Now take me to my home; I long to be at rest.
My home is not on earth, nor can I rest below;
Since Christ has given me birth, oh, how I long to go!”
As to his second desire, he writes, “I sometimes picture to myself being permitted to do something for the Lord, by and by. How I wish to occupy the little time I am here to the best possible advantage. It is but a little while, and all things shall have passed away. What a blessed thought! We have not much longer to wait,” &c., &c.
But the time had not yet come for either of these desires to be granted. A brief march in the wilderness was necessary, in God’s ordering “to humble and to prove” him, as well as to deepen the work now wrought in his soul.
Two years rolled on, and as they rolled, many a time did Satan strive to steal that young heart from Christ. At one time presenting the attractions of the world to it— at another, the difficulties of the way—at another, the self-will of nature; but though sometimes allured for a moment and sometimes discouraged, the good Shepherd guarded it, and never allowed it to doubt His love. No one was able to pluck it out of the Father’s hand. The foundation was laid on the Rock, and the winds and the floods could not overturn it. What this Bock was, G. expresses thus: “Simple faith in His love and promise is my ground, and on this I seek to go onwards and upwards. Christ died for me, rose again for my justification; and now, being washed from all sin, I am accepted by the Father. This is enough for me; and this, by the help of God, will I go by.”
But the time was coming when the corn was to be gathered in, and it began rapidly to ripen for the sickle. While still in health, dear G. had a spiritual instinct that he was hastening toward that home which he so longed for. “Oh, to see HIS face!” was now his frequent exclamation. About a few weeks before his illness, when the Lord’s coming for the Church was spoken of, and the question arose as to the probability of being caught up to meet Him, or passing through death before we see Him, G. said, with a glow never to be forgotten, “Well, whichever way it be, I am ready. The sooner I go the better pleased I shall be; for I feel no attraction here, and every possible attraction there.”
His last illness commenced with a cold which was not thought to signify; and throughout he was so entirely free from bodily pain, that even after he was pronounced by the physician in danger, he had no idea of it himself. Some around him, though fully assured of his safety, desired him to be aware of the Lord’s dealings with him, and resolved to announce it to him. “G., dear, (it was said) do you know how ill you are?” He replied, “I am not very ill.” “Yes, you are, very” she rejoined solemnly. G. paused for a minute, looked at her earnestly, and then evidently divining what was meant to be conveyed, said, “Well, I’m quite ready.” “Is the Lord with you?” she asked. “Oh, yes.” “He is no stranger to you.” “No, indeed.” And then, as if the reality opened on him increasingly, he burst forth, “Quite, quite ready! Oh! how soon I’m ready; Blessed God! I did not think of this yesterday. Ο Lord, I long to go to Thee. Take me—take me! My path has not been bright, but I long to go to Thee.” This, be it remembered, was the language, not of one worn and wearied in the wilderness, and therefore longing for rest; but of one who had hardly tasted of its dreariness; who had not known sorrow; and who had youth, health, prospects, and all that could make life desirable. What was it, then, but the attractiveness of Jesus revealed to that young heart by the Holy Ghost, that could thus magnetize all its longings upward? And what was it but the cleansing virtue of the precious blood of Christ, which could make one, by nature “dead in trespasses and sins,” know itself to be “quite, quite ready” for God’s holy presence, the very moment that its approaching entrance into it was announced? Faith in the work of the Son of God had imparted to that soul a new nature as pure as the place for which it was bound; and the affections of that new nature discerning the moral beauty of Christ—knew Him to be “the chiefest among ten thousand, and the altogether lovely.”
A fountain now seemed to be unsealed in G.’s heart. The prospect presented to him was too bright to be lost sight of, and from that moment, even when afterward he was thought likely to recover, he never turned his eye from it. Repeating the blessed assurance over and over again, he would say, “Quite, quite ready; I have my ticket in my hand;” and then, passing from the contemplation of his title of entrance to the Object of his desires, he would smile and say, “Precious Jesus. I’m going to Jesus. I’m going home.”
As the days passed on, the disease progressed, and the mind sometimes wandered; but, whether wandering or collected, the one subject engrossed it. For three days he took little notice of those around him, but was almost constantly, when awake, engaged in either addressing or presenting Christ. The following are some of his utterances: “Nothing but the blood of Jesus. Our tears and prayers from morning till night, and from night till morning, are of no avail. Nothing but the blood of Jesus. Blessed Lord Jesus! Thy precious blood has made me clean in Thy presence, and all is calm peace within and around.” Sometimes, after repeating numerous passages of Scripture, he would proclaim the glad tidings of salvation thus: “There is redemption in Jesus. It’s eternal life to know Him. Believe on Him whom God hath sent. There it is for you all, if you come to Him. He you believe, (addressing those around him) it’s very easy. If you have Christ, you have the foundation. The first thought-the first desire of man is sin, but the blood of Jesus Christ cleanses from all sin. All scripture, from Genesis to Revelation, speaks of the blood in the presence of God the Father.”
But this was not all, the glory and honor of the Saviour also filled his thoughts and words. “Keep the glory and honor of Christ. If you can keep these two things, and I’m sure you can; it is very easy. Blessed Jesus! Thou wert once clothed in scarlet, but now in pure white. Amen. I desired that Christ had been more set forth. Bring up children before God, and not before man.” These are but fragments of his utterances, for much was too rapid to note down. One who listened to him remarked, that it only reminded her of that passage, “Out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water.”
The last day came; G. knew it well. He said, “This is the last day;” and when the doctor came, he wished him farewell, significantly adding, “The Lord is my support.”
During this day G. was frequently in prayer, and the holy and absorbed expression of his countenance, when thus engaged, it is impossible to describe, as he fervently poured out his soul aloud. On one of these occasions he concluded with these words, “Ο Lord, thou art sufficient—thou, Lord Jesus, art sufficient—into thine hands I commit myself.” Observing the sun shining on the ocean before his window, he exclaimed, raising his hand upwards, “There’s a bright sun up there. All trouble, all anxiety, ceased. Oh! I see them all sitting up there, and I shall soon make one of them.” Again, addressing one in sorrow, he said, “Why do you trouble yourself? I shall be all right when I get up there. I shall soon sing Hallelujah.”
The evening closed in, and night wore on. G. still lived; but, as he approached the valley of death, the light which surrounded him became brighter and brighter, and his spirit seemed to rise higher and higher into the joy before him. Throwing his arms around his father’s neck he said, “My dearest father, I’m going to Jesus, and you will soon come too.” His father said to him, “What is it to be forever with the Lord!” He ejaculated, “Beautiful! beautiful! beautiful!” You are leaving us in sorrow to go to Him.” “Yes, very different, absent from the body, present with the Lord.” “You will see Him before we do.” “Wonderful, wonderful!” “To depart and be with Christ is far better.” “Christ.” As if that word contained his all. At another time his father said to him, “You are going to Christ.” G. replied, “My spirit is, i.e., my spiritual nature, it is with Christ and from Christ.”
The gray morning light poured in, and, as we drew up the blind, lighted up his beloved features, now full of holy expectancy; and out of the fullness of his heart his mouth still spake, as to the value of the blessed Son of God, as well as what is due to Him. “Ah! (he exclaimed) Christ is enough for me. Give your heart to Christ, or it will be fit for nothing. Jesus says, ‘I am strong and mighty.’ What have you done for the glory of God? For anything you may do in the service of Christ you shall have more glory in heaven. The Lord Jesus is coming to gather from the four quarters of the earth, to purify for Himself a people zealous of good works.” In the intervals between these utterances, G. would address the Lord, as if turning from man to the home of his heart. “Precious Lord Jesus! we two or three are gathered to remember Thee, in Thy presence, Lord Jesus. Thou art sufficient!”
We thought he was gone, but he opened his eyes, and fixing them on one who had anxiously watched God’s work in his soul from its commencement, he said, “Are you satisfied?” Meaning, “Are you satisfied with what God has done for me?” and on receiving the reply, “Quite satisfied,” he closed them again. After this he exclaimed with animation, addressing his father in reference to a younger brother lately brought to the Lord, “Father, T. is found;” and then as if imagining him present, “Come, T., Come stand up; and all of you stand round and sing. T., come on, come on, that all may learn to know Jesus.” He then burst forth into his last prayer, and soon after said, “It’s beautiful! I shall not die.” These were his last words; after which he was unconscious, but sweetly peaceful, and slept away into the Lord’s bosom like a child going to rest, his countenance bespeaking the whole state of his blessed experience.
Thus were we permitted to witness his abundant entrance into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour. The “ticket in his hand,” as he expressed it, even the precious work of Christ, had established a full and clear title for his entrance there into. And what wondrous and blessed realities wire unfolded to us, as we watched him enter! Death was there—death of the body; a real thing, but a vanquished one. Life was there-eternal life; a real thing, and a conquering one. Life triumphing over death, robbed it of its sting and power; and the enemy of souls saw this, his last stronghold, so illumined with the presence of Christ that he dared not approach it. Christ was there to claim His own and to bear away the soul, which He had purchased with His blood, to be with Him forever.
LINES BY G. R. S.
(Written before he was 16.)
He, who is the sinner’s Friend,
To the wounded heart doth send
Oil of gladness, balm of health,
To enrich the soul with wealth.
Ye who call this God your Friend,
Oh! how blessed is your end!
Thro’ His vast and boundless love,
Ye shall dwell with Him above-
Mansions He doth now prepare,
And returns to take you there.
Children, whom He sought on earth,
Whom His grace has given new birth,
Soon shall return with Him above,
And ne’er cease to praise His love.
Haste that glorious, happy day,
When we’ll need no more to pray,
But unite His name to praise,
And with hosts our voices raise,
Sing the new song of the Lamb,
Worthy He—once slain for man!
G. B. S.