“For the preaching of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but unto us which are saved it is the power of God ... . For the Jews require a sign, and the Greeks seek after wisdom: but we preach Christ crucified, unto the Jews a stumbling block, and unto the Greeks foolishness; but unto them which are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God. Because the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men” (1 Cor, 1:18-25).
WHILE waiting for a train at one of the Cornish railway stations one day in March 1898, I got into conversation with an elderly man who was desirous of knowing the best way to reach Southampton. I found that although seventy-two years of age, and his wife three years younger, they purposed leaving England in about a fortnight to visit one of their sons in the United States, and there end their days. Like many other Cornishmen, during the last half-century he had spent much of his life in mining camps abroad, and, he told me, had made enough money in California to keep him comfortably without working for the rest of his days.
“How long,” I asked, “do you expect to live?”
“‘Bout five or six ‘ears,” he replied; “then I s’pose et will be time for me to go. A man cain’t spect to live much longer than that.”
“You carry your age well,” I replied. “You may live ten or twelve years longer.”
“P’raps so,” he said; “I cain’t say nothin’ sartin ‘bout that.”
“But if you should live five or six years longer, or possibly ten or twelve years, what will happen to you at the end? Are you in any way prepared for eternity?”
Tears came into his eyes, his wrinkled face was lit up with joy, and his voice quivered as he replied: “Et is all right weth me. I’ve made my paise weth God. I’ve got a ‘ome beyond this world.”
“Then,” I said, “you are converted, and know that your sins are forgiven, and whether your days on earth be many or few, you are ready to meet the Lord.”
“Yes,” he said, “I am; bless the Lord!”
“How long,” I asked, “have you been converted, and how did it come to pass?”
He went on to say: “Well, et were just like this. ‘Bout three ‘ears ago I was over there weth my pony and trap,” pointing in the direction of a farmhouse a little distance off.” I ‘addent been well for a brave while; got some-thin’ the matter weth my chest which I cuddent git rid of, and et simmed to be gittin’ wuss and wuss; and the farmer he said to me, ‘You’re very bad, Tom.’
“‘Ess,’ ses I, ‘I’m bad, sure nuff.’
“Ses ee, ‘Ef you go on like this, what will be the end of et, boy?’
“Ses I, ‘I doant knaw, I’m sure.’
“‘Well,’ says ee, ‘ave ey made your paise weth God?’
“‘No,’ ses I, I ‘abbent. Doan’t knaw nothin’ ‘bout them things.’
“Ses ee, ‘Et es time you ded then. Why doan’t ey ask God to save your sawl; why doan’t ey gev your ‘art to God?’
“Ses I, ‘I never was no coward, I never was afeared of nothin’, and et doan’t sim to me ‘tes fair that after I’ve lived sixty-eight ‘ears in sin, to ask God to save my black sawl ‘cause I cain’t live much longer.’
“Oh!’ ses ee, ‘go along weth thee. Doan’t talk like that. Et ain’t like that weth He et tawl. Doan’t thee be afeared to come to Him just as thee are. He wain’t turn thee away, He will save thee sawl of thee will only ask Him.’
“Ses I, ‘Well, I’ll think ‘bout et.’ And so after I had finished my business I drove off ‘ome.
“But when I were gwain on the road, I cuddent sim to git what ee sed to me out of my mind, and afore very long I felt my face gittin’ wet like.”
Then turning to me with broken voice and with tears in his eyes, he said: “I s’pose you do knaw what them feelin’s be like. You’ve been through et yourself, I spect.”
“Yes,” I replied, “I understand it. I am converted. Go on with your story.”
“Well, et went on like that for ‘bout a foright, and I cuddent sim to git no paise of mind night nor day. I cuddent git no sleep much when I went to bed, thinkin bout my sawl. I was in a brave old way ‘bout et sure nuff, and my wife she thought I was gwane mazed.
“But one night, ‘bout three o’clock in the mornin’, I was so unaisy that I got out of bed, went down on my knees, and said to my Saviour that I weddent git up no more tell He gov me a token that my sins was forgiven, and that I’d made my paise weth God. Just after that I ‘eeard a voice speakin’ to me, Son, thy sins be forgiven thee, go in paise and sin no more,’ and I felt all my load were gone. I jumped up et once and began shoutin’, ‘Bless the Lord, my black sawl es saved. My sins are forgiven. I’ve got paise weth God.’
“My wife woke up and wondered what et were all ‘bout, and said I was gone mazed, but et wasen’t nothin’ like that et tawl. ‘Bless the Lord,’ ses I, I’m a saved man.’
“And so I’ve gone on weth them same feelin’s of paise ever since. I ‘tend class mittin’s and go to all the tother mittin’s reglar, and when the Lord es plaised to call me ‘ome, bless God, I’m ready.
“My wife, she esant converted, I’m sorry to say, though she is a first-rate scholar, and knows all ‘bout the Bible as well as anybody. But I’m always spakin’ to ‘er, and prayin’ for ‘er, and afore the end comes I ‘ope the Lord will save ‘er sawl too.”
Shortly after I parted with this interesting believer in the Lord Jesus Christ with the mutual assurance that the next time we meet it will be in the presence of the One who loved us and gave Himself for us, and who shed His precious blood to put away our sins, and thus fit us to dwell with Him through eternity.
H. K.