SUCH were the words of a young man fast dying of consumption in the town of D—. I was asked to visit him some time before, and found him very ill and troubled about the condition of his soul. He had not peace with God, and, like thousands today, vainly thought he could make peace with a holy God by good works, &c. He owned he was a sinner, and not fit for the presence of God. His statement to me was, he had been a teacher in the Sunday-school.
Think of it, dear unsaved reader! A teacher! A teacher of what? Law-keeping, good works, doing your best. Oh, the delusion of such! Such was this young man, who through God’s mercy found out, before it was too late, that the bridge of good works was too short to take him into the glory of God. Like Saul of Tarsus, he thought he was right, and woke up to find he was all wrong. The so-called minister had forsaken him, only visited him once in ten months. I looked to God to guide me in speaking to him. I endeavored to knock away the sandy foundation he had been building on, telling him to cease from his puny efforts of self-righteousness, and that God sent His dear Son into this world to save, not to help save, but to save, not when there was any goodness in us, but when we were ungodly and without strength. He seemed surprised, but God in His mercy led him to see the truth of this—that he could do nothing for salvation. He was ungodly and without strength; he bowed to God’s word; he owned before God his condition, and received peace and joy in believing, like the poor woman in the gospel of Luke (8:43), with an issue of blood. She had tried every remedy that religious man could suggest, and it was of no avail; she spent all. Blessed moment for her, and for him; for they found themselves, not better, but rather worse. Precious moment for him! he believed in Jesus as his Saviour, and was at rest.
He gradually grew worse. Shortly after, one Lord’s-day evening, when a few were gathered to hear the gospel of the grace of God proclaimed, a knock was heard at the meeting-room door. I went to see who it was, when the sister of the young man said, “Will you please come and see my brother? He has broken a blood-vessel, and wishes to see you.” I immediately went, and as I entered the room, and saw his dear pale, wan face, with the life-blood ebbing away, he said to his sister, “Be sure you meet me in heaven; I’m trusting in the blood of Christ.”
It was a precious testimony from one who a few weeks before knew nothing of the saving power of that precious blood which cleanseth from all sin, but, like thousands today, who repeat the commandments, and ask God to incline their wicked hearts to keep His holy law, a law which is the ministration of death (2 Corinthians 3:77But if the ministration of death, written and engraven in stones, was glorious, so that the children of Israel could not stedfastly behold the face of Moses for the glory of his countenance; which glory was to be done away: (2 Corinthians 3:7)); hence peace with God is a thing unknown to them.
May God deliver such, and may He use this simple narrative for blessing. A few days after the dear young man fell asleep in Jesus, to wait for that moment when
“The Lord Himself shall come,
And shout the quickening word;
Thousands shall answer from the tomb,
Forever with the Lord.”
I went to see the parents, and as I entered the room where lay the precious dust a few of his former acquaintances were gathered around the bed weeping. I said, “If you are unsaved, do not weep for him, but weep for yourselves.” I asked them to kneel down in the presence of that precious dust, and prayed God to use the moment in blessing to those left behind. God only knows if it will be so. And now, poor sinner, should your eye scan the above, if without Christ, what a poor, miserable, wretched thing you must be! Do wake up, I beseech you to your awful condition. It is no time to trifle; the Lord will soon be here, and if you die in your sins, where Jesus is you can never be. Oh, sinner, what an awful doom awaits thee, to go down to the lake of fire, a soul damned for all eternity! And you might have been saved. Oh, how one would linger at such a moment! Come, poor sinner, there yet is room for thee. Jesus says, “Come, for all things are ready.” Do not make polite excuses; do not say you have no time to think of these things. You will have plenty of time to think in hell, and no escape, no water to cool your parched tongue. Oh, poor soul, fly from the wrath which will shortly be poured out on this favored land! May God awaken you from your stupor, and give you to see what a sinner you are, and what a Saviour Jesus is.
W. H.