AN aged man, whose every joint and limb seemed contracted and strangely distorted by rheumatism, passed almost daily by our window. I had often noticed him, and longed to know if he was of the household of faith. After some time, an opportunity of conversing with him occurred, and, as nearly as possible in his own words, I give the story of how the grace of God had reached him.
“Am I saved? Do I know the Lord Jesus? Yes, Miss; I can truly thank Him that I do, and perhaps you would like to hear how it was that the Lord brought me to Himself, for often as I sit in my little room, thinking it all over, it seems as if there could hardly be a greater miracle of grace upon earth than myself.
“Well, Miss, you may have heard of Tom Paine; you don’t remember him, for he lived and died, aye, ‘as the fool dieth,’ before you were born. But my father was what he called his right-hand man, and my brother and myself were taught to deny the very being of the God who created us. I was a wild, wicked youth, and truly did sow to the flesh—the harvest being what the word of God calls it—corruption. While I was still a young man, it seemed as if already I was worn out in the service of Satan.
“I had lost a good situation through my own evil habits; brought my wife and family to such poverty that the only refuge before them was the workhouse; and then came the tempter’s whisper that the way of escape from all the sorrow I had caused was in my own hands—to take my life, if the doctrines held were true, would be an end of all existence. I caught at the terrible suggestion. Way and means for carrying out the purpose were not far to seek, and with almost feverish eagerness I waited for twilight. It came at last, and hastening to my room I secured the door; and, while engaged in trying the strength of a rope I had hidden there earlier in the day, looked round to be sure that I was alone. Yes, I was alone, but not alone, for at that moment such a sense came over me, not only of the being, but of the power and presence of God as I can never forget, but cannot describe. The rope fell from my hands, my horrid purpose was abandoned, my whole frame trembled, large drops of perspiration started from every pore, and throwing myself upon my knees, I cried out in agony of soul, ‘O God, for Thou art God, have mercy on my soul, for I have a soul!’
“Through the night I wept and prayed. But did I get peace? No, only a deeper sense of sin, and a terrible certainty that if I died as I was, hell must be my everlasting portion.
“I soon became outwardly a changed man, broke with my infidel companions, and gave up my old habits, but still no peace; for the thought followed me night and day that if even for the rest of my life I could perfectly please and obey God there would be a terrible debt of long years of sin still unpaid. But I had begun to read the Bible, and to seek the company of Christians, and before long I saw it all—how that the work I could not do had been done for me by another—that One the Son of God. And so having faith in His work—His blood—my sins were taken away. And more, knew that the work was God’s, and that I was a new creature in Christ Jesus, and His word sets a glorious future before even this poor, shrunken body of mine. For His servant Paul says of Him who died for me, that He ‘shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto His glorious body.’” (Phil. 3:2121Who shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto his glorious body, according to the working whereby he is able even to subdue all things unto himself. (Philippians 3:21).)
C. J. L.