THE only son of Christian parents, both deaf and dumb, I was taught to fear God from my earliest days. When I was ten years old my mother died.
I well remember the day my dear mother said, “Good-bye.” Mark this, she never said “Good-bye” to my father, for she knew she would meet him again.
With no mother, and a father afflicted, I took to the street, and went like the prodigal from bad to worse. Many a shilling I stole from my father. Many a night I wandered in Hyde Park and on the Victoria Embankment, or slept in a common lodging-house. Many a day I feasted on the proceeds of what I had stolen. It is not that I glory in these things now. They are my shame and sorrow. But I want to show what a wretched sinner the Lord saved. It may encourage some despairing one to seek Him. The Lord grant it.
At this juncture the Lord raised up a friend, who persuaded a few of her Christian friends to pay my subscription at St Olave’s Grammar School. Shortly after the forgery of a medical certificate, excusing me from some school duties, again placed me on a downward path. This led to a birching and expulsion from the school.
My next shameful act was to rob a Chelsea pensioner of his Crimean and Mutiny medals, selling them in Leicester Square, London, for two shillings.
Again God raised up a friend in one of H.M. Inspectors of Schools, who persuaded me to sit in the Probationers’ Examination for pupil teachers for South London. I secured second place, and was appointed teacher in B—School. Three months later I was discharged for using bad language to the headmaster.
Then a doctor engaged me. The second day in his employment I stole five shillings, an account which was paid me in my master’s absence. This led to my first police conviction, but a kind-hearted inspector of police got me off.
Next I ran away from home, and joined the Navy at Devonport. For the next seven years I went in for drinking, gambling, card-playing, swearing, horse-racing, and Theater-going, with their attendant evils. I was a ringleader in every mischief on board ship.
Again God spoke to me in tender mercy. My father was stricken down with serious illness, and I was obliged to contribute to his support. He lost his reason and sight and finally lost all recognition of me, his only child. His death drove me worse than ever to the drink.
The fleet lying at Cowes, assembled to meet the Emperor of Russia, had been ordered to Campbeltown, when I heard of my father’s death. We never miss the water till the well runs dry, and I never missed my father’s prayers till he had passed away. I attended his funeral in London, and was soon as bad as ever.
At Gibraltar I received a letter from some deaf and dumb friends of my father, offering me a home if I needed one. This unexpected kindness, for they were strangers to me, led to a correspondence. In every letter they preached the gospel to me.
The fleet returning to Campbeltown I got leave of absence, and visited these friends in Edinburgh. The train was due to leave Campbeltown at a certain hour, but the Argyleshire Cattle Show, held in the town, delayed it by two hours. Alas! I started drunk. I arrived in Edinburgh after midnight in a sorry condition. I was shocked when I found the two daughters of my friends waiting for me on the platform, as I realized my condition.
Next day being Sunday I strolled up to the Castle to see the R.S.F. canteen, and to get some drink, but was unsuccessful. That evening I was taken to a gospel service held in the Oddfellows’ Hall. An aged servant of Christ was preaching. I took no account of what he said until I was thoroughly aroused by the question, “Is there someone here, the subject of his mother’s prayer? Is there someone here whose father is in heaven?” I looked, and the preacher was pointing straight at me. I came home much impressed, shut myself up in the sitting-room, and paced the floor for hours.
Next day I rejoined my ship—H.M.S. “Berwick”— a first-class cruiser. It is usual in the Navy to serve out rum in the dinner-hour. For the first time I can remember I gave it away. God was working. I shall never forget that memorable 6th June 1910, when I decided to trust the Saviour. He heard me, saved me, and helped me, and that day I had the assurance of being a new man in Christ.
Alas! old habits were strong, and through unwatchfulness I slipped back into evil ways. It began by secret smoking and card-playing. Two months after my conversion I was in Chatham Barracks prison for creating a scene in Victoria Station. I began to realize where I had got to.
Coming out of prison I went to the Sandown Park race-course. My pockets were picked. I was thrown into a terrible predicament. God was speaking to me. I felt thoroughly ashamed of myself. Alas! for some time I led a double life.
I had by this time developed heavy smoking habits. I was now on H.M.S. “Cyclops,” at Portland. Coming home on leave I forgot to take my pipe and tobacco with me. In the train I wanted a smoke, but found I had no wherewithal to carry out my desires, so determined to buy pipe and tobacco in London, but my train was delayed, owing to heavy Christmas traffic, and my purpose was frustrated.
In Edinburgh, with my Christian friends, I knew that I dare not openly smoke. They got me to go to some New Year’s meetings in Glasgow, and in the railway compartment, returning home, an aged Christian from Australia was asked if it was right for a Christian to smoke, and the argument went against me.
Then and there God delivered me from smoking and from the double life I was leading, and I could truly sing—
“From sinking sand He lifted me.”
Convicted of forgery at fourteen, a drunkard at seventeen, saved at twenty-three, the perpetrator of every crime and vice except murder, I can claim, indeed, to be a trophy of grace from the slums of London. I was a brand fit for the burning, but now a brand plucked from the burning.
May this narrative, to which much might have been added, be for the glory of God. It may meet the eye of some sinner as bad as myself, or some backslider as wicked as I was, and give them hope.
The Lord Jesus died to save sinners—the strengthless, the ungodly, enemies. He saved the chief of sinners, why not you?
A bad enough sinner—the hard-hearted jailor of Philippi—asked the question, “What must I do to be saved?” The answer came sharp, clear, definite, “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved” (Acts 16:3131And they said, Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house. (Acts 16:31)). He believed and was saved that night. So Scripture tells us.
Reader, let me urge you to believe on the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved today.
B. G. D.