Poor Mr. S. was an infidel; that is, he did not believe in “Heaven or Hell, God or devil.” He was at the time of our story only thirty-five, but a severe cold had settled on his lungs, and evidently his days were numbered.
A minister of the Gospel sought to gain admittance to the room to which he was confined, but he refused to see him.
How was such a sinner to be reached? A Christian neighbor, had his salvation much on his heart, and after two ministers had failed to see him, appealed to another friend, who loved souls, to do his best to bring the Gospel to the poor hardened infidel.
Now Mr. S. was fond of a little girl who often called to see him, and this friend determined to try to reach him through little Alice.
Alice went to Sunday school, and learned to repeat hymns nicely, so she was promised a little reward if she would learn a hymn and say it to Mr. S.
“Well, Alice, you are come to see your sick friend?” said he, as the little girl came up into his room.
“Yes, I have learned a new piece, and inn come to say it to you; will you let me?”
“O, yes! and mind you in not miss one word!” said he, as he took the hymn-book to hear her new piece. So Alice folded her hands, and with full clear voice began,
“When life’s tempestuous storms are o’er,
How calm he meets the friendly shore
Who died on earth to sin!
Such peace on piety attends,
That where the sinner’s pleasure ends,
The saved man’s joys begin.
“The horrors of the grave and Hell,
Those sorrows which the wicked feel.
In vain their gloom display;
For He who bids the comets burn,
And makes the night descend, can turn
His darkness into day.
“No sorrows drown his lifted eyes,
No horror wrests the struggling sighs.
As from the sinner’s breast.
His God, the God of peace and love,
Pours sweetest comfort from above,
Then takes his soul to rest.”
The next day the same friend managed to get a tract, written by himself, introduced to the sick man’s room. After reading it, he asked his wife if Mr. A. had got her to put it there, and, being told he had, he asked that he might be brought to see him.
For five visits, the poor unbeliever never referred to anything religious, but on the sixth, as his visitor was taking up his hat to go, he looked him in the face, saying,
“Mr. A.; how is it you never speak to me about my soul?”
“Why, S,” said his visitor, “have you got a soul then?”
“O Mr. A! Mr. A!” he groaned out “I am a poor miserable man. That child’s hymn, and that tract, have crushed me in the dust. I have held out as long as I can: what must I do?”
My reader, it is not likely you are an infidel, but let me ask, Have you ever asked this momentous question?
How many times since it was first uttered by the Philippian jailer has it gladdened the heart of God and His servants, as breathed forth by the penitent sinner? Has it in your case?
Not many days elapsed ere this poor sinner, an infidel no longer, found out three most important things,
1St—That he could do nothing for his salvation.
2nd—That there was nothing to do.
3rd—That Jesus had done everything. And peace, divine peace, and joy flooded his soul.
He lived a long time to testify of God’s grace and mercy. The Bible was his constant companion, and little Alice’s hymn a great favorite with him. On the day he fell asleep in Jesus, Mr. A. called to see him bearing the latter was going to preach that day, he said,
“Let me find you a text— ‘This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief,’ and don’t leave out the words, ‘Of whom I am chief.’” 1 Timothy 1:1515This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief. (1 Timothy 1:15).
Reader, have you accepted it?
ML 10/08/1939