Eighteen years old, at a boarding school, in the midst of learning, and yet a veritable heathen. That was my condition when it was ordained by my elders that I should be confirmed—along with seven other girls of our school.
I must tell you now that for three years, at least, I had had within me an intense longing to know God; I yearned with all my soul for heavenly light. Yet I was puzzled, and knew not what it was or who it was I really needed. When at home I used to go out to the woods and cry aloud to heaven in desperation, not realizing there was One up yonder who loved me and had given Himself for me. I rather thought God was angry with me, for I looked on myself as such a hopeless sinner—so earthly-minded, nothing spiritual about me.
A month before confirmation a preparation class in the school was commenced, at which catechism and collects were studied. Some days before confirmation, we were each in turn interviewed by the vicar in his vestry, when the following questions were put to me:
"Do you know your Catechism?" "Yes." "Do you know the Collects?" "Yes."
"Have you studied the Thirty-nine Articles?" "Yes."
"Do you say your prayers?" "Yes."
"Well, my dear, you will pass very well," and receiving a fatherly hand on my shoulder, I was shown the door! Had the vicar said,
"Do you know the forgiveness of sins?" I would have answered most emphatically, "No."
During the intervening days till the hour of confirmation, I was most unhappy, not having a ray of light from above—only a deeper sense of condemnation—dreading to go forward to the ceremony, lest I should make a false profession. It is customary for girls to have simple white frocks for this church service—emblem of holiness, I suppose.
Through some mistake, my dressmaker did not send my new garment in time, so, feeling very wretched, I told the lady of the school I could not go, as my dress had not come. Whereupon she replied.
"How stupid! Well! never mind, some old ladies will be among the candidates—just go in your black one, you will pass in the crowd."
So, you see, there was no way of getting out of it, and after all, the black dress seemed comforting, quite in keeping with the inward feelings. A black dress covering a black heart! As we drove in silence to the church, I could not help comparing my black with the other girls' white garments, saying, as I looked at them,
"I dare say your hearts are as white as your frocks, but alas for mine!"
The church was full—the occasion seemed very solemn, and sitting up at the end of the long pew, I was truly miserable—wishing with all my heart that I might stay there, and not go forward to the communion rails.
But what of my teacher up in the gallery? Would not she be very angry if I remained in my seat when my turn came? With my mind busy with these thoughts, I paid little heed to the service—indeed, I do not remember what took place till the bishop paused, leaned over the pulpit, and said so kindly,
"I hope none of you mean to come up, better stay just where you are, than be untrue. This service is only for those who know their hearts are right with God. Never mind your friends in the gallery. Be true."
All right, thought I, now with the Bishop's permission, I will not leave the pew; and folding my arms in peace I meant to watch the service through to the end. Whereupon the bishop once more leaned over the pulpit, and in most tender tones asked if there were any unsaved ones before him. I looked up, wondering if he knew all about me!
"Shall I tell you," said the bishop, "what words brought life to my soul long ago?" To this I listened with all my might, just longing for salvation.
"Hear these familiar words, 'Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out' (John 6:37), and, my dear young people, if He does not cast us out, why, of course, He takes us in—into His own family, and henceforth we become 'Children of God.' "
The Lord, by the Spirit's power, applied the word to my heart. All now seemed so simple, and, not caring who saw me, I sank right down on the floor on my knees in that high old-fashioned pew, and pouring my heart out to God, pleading His own sweet words,
"Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out," then and there received power to become a child of God, and, like the prodigal son, I was conscious of the kiss of forgiveness.
A child of God! O, think of it! What a joy! Such a burden gone—I could have shouted for joy, All glory to the Lord Jesus!
Do you know Him thus, my dear reader? As a guilty sinner, accept Jesus Christ as your own and only Savior.
"Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." Acts 16:31.
"Him that cometh to Me, I will in no wise cast out." John 6:37.