T―P―, the subject of the following narrative, was the son of kind and indulgent parents, who from his earliest childhood did all in their power for his welfare and prosperity. But as he grew into manhood, he began to yield to the evil habits of gambling and drinking, &c., living without Christ, having no hope, and without God in the world (Eph. 2:1212That at that time ye were without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers from the covenants of promise, having no hope, and without God in the world: (Ephesians 2:12)).
In course of time, having married, he was started by his father in business for himself, but so neglected it, that he very soon found himself in difficulties, the money that ought to have paid his creditors being spent at cards or billiards. The true state of affairs was kept back from his father, who, to help him, backed bills that were drawn on the son. But when they became due the debtor decamped, leaving his poor father to meet them.
This sad conduct of their son caused both his parents the greatest sorrow and distress.
Nothing, however, arrested P― in his course. Satan’s captive, blindly he rushed on in his career of sin, never resting until all that he had managed to save out of the wreck had been spent at the gaming table. At last, being almost destitute, he took a situation in London, but his evil course of life brought him a speedy discharge. His poor wife, in the meanwhile, was suffering endless hardships and privations from his neglect, and the lack of proper sustenance.
Soon after this they removed to R―, and being taught by past experience that if he kept on at the rate he had been going, they would soon be brought to starvation, he determined to turn over a new leaf. For some months things went on considerably better. He neither touched a card nor entered a billiard room. Things wore a brighter aspect. But the heart was still unrenewed, and the old fire still smoldering beneath, only waiting for a breath to fan it into a flame again.
He now thought that he was strong, not having played for so long, and presently the tempter said, “Go and look on; no harm in that!” He went, and with the sight of the game the old passion for gambling returned, and again he plunged into it with greater avidity than ever, stripping his home of every saleable article, and making away even with his wife’s rings to satisfy his craving.
About this time the news reached them of the closing of a chancery suit, by which a certain sum of money became theirs. To obtain it, he had to go to the town where his parents lived. In the evening he walked down to the solicitor’s office to sign the papers. When the solicitor saw him, he asked him if he had been to see his poor father.
“Ah!” replied P― “he doesn’t want to see me.”
“Yes, indeed, he does, for I saw him this morning, and he told me you were in the town, but had not been to see him. Ah! young man, your father loves you; do go and see him he and your mother are longing for you to go back.” At length he was prevailed upon, but persuaded in his own mind that he would be turned out as soon as he set his foot inside the door. His conscience told him that this was what he justly deserved, and he measured his father’s love by, his own sinfulness. With such thoughts, gloomy and miserable, he turned his steps towards his father’s house. But, to his surprise, his misdeeds were all freely forgiven, his parents being only delighted to welcome back their scapegrace son.
The way was now open for his recommencing business at nearly the same spot as before. But Satan still ruled in his heart, and instead of turning to the Lord, he wandered further away than ever. His parents’ love was all lost upon him. They looked for a happy change, but their hopes were all blighted. Many difficulties again arose, but, regardless of consequences, he plunged deeper and deeper into sin. But all this while the eye of God was upon this infatuated young man, and His wondrous grace was now about to save him, for the glory of His own great name.
One Wednesday afternoon in the spring of 187―, T―P― drove out of an inn yard with another companion in sin, intending to enjoy a spree (as they called it) at some haunt of vice in a neighboring town. Coming through the gateway, the pony reared, the shaft of the gig was broken, and both were thrown out, but without injury. But, too hardened to pay any heed to the warning, and too foolhardy and bent on their love of vice to brook any disappointment, they speedily procured another vehicle, and proceeded upon their errand of sin. Returning home late at night, just as they approached the inn they heard the cry, “A man has jumped over the bridge! “His companion strode into the inn with selfish indifference, but T―P―ran to the bridge to help save the drowning man if possible. The drags were swiftly procured, but too late to save his life. The poor suicide, mad with drink, had rushed straight from the scene of his excesses into an awful eternity.
The sight of the corpse, and the thought of so fearful an end here, led P― to think; and with very different feelings from what he had ever known before, he adjourned to an inn to talk over the solemn scene he had just witnessed. While there, in the very room where he had spent many hours in gambling, drinking, &c., and in the midst of some of his very companions in evil, that same night God smote him down under such an awful sense of sin, that then and there, to the amazement of all present, he was obliged to pour out his heart to God for mercy. A ray of light from the glory of God had pierced his dark soul, and he thought that if he had not prayed he must have been struck dead on the spot. He saw himself as God saw him,—black, desperately wicked (Jer. 17:99The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it? (Jeremiah 17:9)). Too wicked, he then thought, for a holy God even to notice, little apprehending that this very conviction was the Spirit’s mighty work, the dawn of a brighter day, the way in which God works to break the stubborn heart, which none but He can heal.
But though deeply convicted of sin, he was as yet a perfect stranger to peace. He began to read the Word of God, but it seemed like a sealed book.
Do what he might, he could not get rid of the awful fact that he had to die. The very thought of it frightened him. His sins rose up before him like a mighty mountain. And often too, when on his knees, he would be afraid to pray.
But so infatuated was he by his former habits, that the spell as yet was but partly broken. He would go, and only witness the seductive billiard playing, but not venture himself to join in the game. He thought if he dared even to touch a card, that the Lord would cut him off instantly on the spot.
And now he so realized and groaned under the load of sin, that he was veritably bowed down, and stooping so much in his gait, that his friends told him to walk upright. He tried everything in his power to lighten the burden, but all in vain. He went to church, joined the choir, and tried to lead a good life, but still no peace. The teaching he heard was all do, do, do; come to early communion, &c. But he discovered, like thousands more, that all his doings were mixed with sin. No one seemed to understand his case. At last, almost in despair, he was tempted to have one more try at the old life. But his misery only increased, and bitterly he learned the lesson, that “There is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked.”
Just at this time death snatched away his little girl, an infant of six months old. Feeling it was the Lord’s hand, he knelt down, and promised Him he would live only to serve Him. But, though earnest and sincere in his resolve, he knew not the Lord as his Saviour, and was only seeking to serve Him in his own strength. Next he tried chapel going, and Sunday school teaching, but only to find, at the latter, that some of the children were more qualified to teach him than he them.
What was to be done? There lay the ever-increasing burden of sin. He could neither cast it off, nor deceive himself that all was right. Life was misery, death more dreadful still. The tidings of the removal of one, whom he had known, so added to his alarm, that he would often when in bed shake and tremble, through fear that his end was near, and he all unprepared to meet God. At times it seemed as though in a few more moments he might find himself in hell. He knew he justly deserved it. Ah! hell was to him an awful reality (Luke 16:19-3119There was a certain rich man, which was clothed in purple and fine linen, and fared sumptuously every day: 20And there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, which was laid at his gate, full of sores, 21And desiring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from the rich man's table: moreover the dogs came and licked his sores. 22And it came to pass, that the beggar died, and was carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom: the rich man also died, and was buried; 23And in hell he lift up his eyes, being in torments, and seeth Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom. 24And he cried and said, Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, and cool my tongue; for I am tormented in this flame. 25But Abraham said, Son, remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things: but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented. 26And beside all this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed: so that they which would pass from hence to you cannot; neither can they pass to us, that would come from thence. 27Then he said, I pray thee therefore, father, that thou wouldest send him to my father's house: 28For I have five brethren; that he may testify unto them, lest they also come into this place of torment. 29Abraham saith unto him, They have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them. 30And he said, Nay, father Abraham: but if one went unto them from the dead, they will repent. 31And he said unto him, If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead. (Luke 16:19‑31)). He now attended some evangelical sermons, but still remained in darkness. At last his distress so impaired his constitution, that his health began to give way, and he could scarcely get about.
About this time he took into his employ a youth that was a true Christian. He soon perceived what was the cause of his master’s state, and one day said to his mistress, “Ah, he does not feel safe. If he knew he was saved, he would soon be all right.” The wife communicated this to her husband, and he confessed that it was that which was the cause of his trouble. And now this youth began to pray for his master, and the master for himself, the youth urging him to believe on the Lord Jesus. Still there was no light or peace in his heart.
Men, in ignorance of their state, sporting on the brink of danger, may despise these convictions as mere fancy, enthusiasm, or cant, but to one in whose conscience the sentence of the law’s condemnation has been heard, and by whom Christ has not yet been accepted, the horror of being damned is indeed a solemn dread reality. “The heart knoweth his own bitterness.”
But the happy hour of deliverance was now at hand. One day a Christian friend came into P―’s shop, and began to speak about singing. As they conversed together, Christ revealed Himself to his soul. He was telling this friend that the first piece of music he had learned to sing was,
“Saviour, breathe an evening blessing;”
and when he came to the words,
“Thou can’st save, and Thou can’st heal,”
his friend said, “Why ever don’t you believe that? That is all you have to do to be saved, ―to believe!”
This was enough. God, by His Spirit, applied these few words to his heart, and now he was in the secret, ―faith in Christ. Then and there he believed, not only that Jesus could save him, but that Jesus had saved him. His sins were many, but Christ had borne them on the tree. The awful weight was gone. For more than a year he had been bowed down under the heavy burden. But now it was gone. He believed, and he was saved (Acts 16:3131And they said, Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house. (Acts 16:31)).
Oh! how he could praise God now. He danced for joy. He shouted praise to Him who had died in his stead. Fear was all gone. He was as sure of heaven as he was sure Christ had died. He felt as though he had never lived till that hour. It had hitherto been dying all along; but now he had life, ―life eternal! It seemed almost impossible that he could live and have such joy and peace. He was something like a poor captive shut up in a dark damp cell, without any hope of liberty, suddenly brought out into the glorious sunshine, a free man (John 8:3636If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed. (John 8:36)). He who was afraid to go to sleep the night before, could not now sleep for praising God. It was his continual delight to praise Him for His great grace to so great a sinner. What a transition! From darkness to light! from death to life! from Satan to God! He now felt he had a new object to live for,― that is, to live for the One who had died for him. “He died for all, that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him which died for them, and rose again” (2 Cor. 5:1515And that he died for all, that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him which died for them, and rose again. (2 Corinthians 5:15)). He longed, too, to tell out the wondrous story of redeeming grace to others, and soon found opportunities to speak of the Saviour to many around. Hitherto drink had been a great hindrance to the work of God in his soul, but, as soon as he was saved, the desire for it was taken away. He found that he had power from God to resist the temptation.
And next the wife, who had been trusting in her own goodness, found that the hitherto ungodly husband had a joy and peace that she knew nothing about. All her morality and good deeds had not brought her to the knowledge of Christ as her Saviour. She too, however, was led to see that all her righteousnesses were as filthy rags in the sight of God (Isa. 64:66But we are all as an unclean thing, and all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags; and we all do fade as a leaf; and our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away. (Isaiah 64:6)), and that unless she was born again she could neither see nor enter the kingdom of God (John 3:3-53Jesus answered and said unto him, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. 4Nicodemus saith unto him, How can a man be born when he is old? can he enter the second time into his mother's womb, and be born? 5Jesus answered, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God. (John 3:3‑5)). And her saved husband having pointed her to Christ, she also found pardon and peace through faith in His name, so that they could together sing of His loving-kindness and grace. Both live on, walking together in the pathway of faith, and waiting together the return of their Lord to receive them to Himself.
And now, dear reader, a word in conclusion. Let me ask you, Are you still Satan’s slave? or are you Christ’s freedman? Are you carrying about the awful burden of unpardoned sin? or have you believed on Him who bore God’s judgment against sin upon the cross? Can you sing from the heart? ―
“He breaks the power of cancell’d sin,
He sets the prisoner free,
His blood can make the foulest clean,
His blood avail’d for me.”
E. H. C.
THE faith that trusts in Christ is always saving faith. Its measure or quantity is not the question. Be it ever so feeble, if it rests on Christ, the soul that exercises it is indissolubly linked with the Son of God, and therefore is ever after the possessor of eternal life! W. T. P. W.