EARLY in the year 1880 I was summoned from a distance to the death-bed of a dear child of God. She had been in her accustomed health on a certain Sunday, and in the evening had been writing an earnest letter, on the subject of the soul’s eternal salvation, to a relative in Australia, when she was taken suddenly and unexpectedly ill. Her symptoms rapidly assumed a very serious aspect, and on Tuesday evening, when I reached her bedside, it was very evident that she was quickly passing away.
At such a moment, beloved reader, when we stand face to face with the dread realities of death and eternity, it becomes a deeply solemn question: Whither am I bound?
With her, through God’s grace, there was no uncertainty. She had long known and loved her Saviour, and for many years His finished work and His precious blood were her soul’s firm resting place. About an hour before her departure on Wednesday morning I asked her if she had any fear, and received the blessed and simple testimony of a blood-washed sinner― “It’s all peace, perfect peace.”
Allow me, dear reader, to ask you, Could you too say, if you were on your death-bed tonight, “It’s all peace, perfect peace”? If you are a sinner in your sins, listen to these solemn words, “There is NO PEACE, saith my God, to the wicked.” (Isaiah 57:2121There is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked. (Isaiah 57:21).)
In a village about six miles from where the above took place a roomful of people used to gather together every Wednesday night to hear the gospel, and on this very night at the close of the preaching an urgent message was sent from a man, who was very ill, to say that he wanted to see the preacher. Accordingly down the dark and narrow lane I walked, and presently found myself at the cottage where the poor man was lying. Let my reader follow me up the rickety stair, and into the cold and cheerless attic. There is a table, on which is placed a bottle of medicine and a tallow dip, giving but a flickering light; there is also a chair on which I sit by the side of the only other article of furniture―a dirty, untidy bed.
On this bed lay a middle-aged man, about, as he thought, to enter the presence of his God. Oh, how he groans! How miserable he looks! “Are you afraid to die?” I asked. “Yes,” he moaned out; “I’m lost!”
“But,” I replied, “Jesus came to save the lost. There is salvation for you, if you will believe on the Lord Jesus Christ.”
“No, no,” said he; “I’ve been such a sinner, there’s no chance for me. I’m, lost.”
I remained with him for some time endeavoring to show him from the word of God that, great as were his sins―and in truth they were great; for he was an awful character, and had led a godless life and wicked― “the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin.” But this he either could not or would not understand, and stuck to it that God had given him several warnings, and that now it was too late.
It was a solemn scene. I could not help recalling that happy, peaceful departure of the dying Christian scarcely twelve hours before. She now was at rest in the presence of her Saviour, and here was one groaning and trembling at the thought of meeting his Judge with all his sins upon him.
With a heavy heart I left that most terrible of all earthly sights―a Christless sinner’s death-bed; for death-bed I verily thought it was. The next day I left the place, and for more than a year was absent from that village. On my return I learned with some surprise that the man had recovered, and, true enough, one day I met him in the lane. His anxiety was all gone, and he was now as careless as ever. Some gospel meetings were then being held in a tent in the village, and I begged him to come.
“Well, I’ll try, sir,” or “I’ll see about it,” was all the promise I could get out of him; but with all his trying and seeing about it he never came. I warned him of his danger, and entreated him to come; for it might be the means of his soul’s salvation; but I warned and entreated in vain.
One night I was returning from a preaching, at which the power of God had been most manifestly felt, and I fancy I can see him now, standing in the road, his hands in his pockets, and his pipe in his mouth. I put my hand on his shoulder, and said, “H―, I have something to tell you.”
“Have you? said he.
“Yes,” I said; “but it is very solemn, so prepare yourself for what I’m going to say, and don’t treat it carelessly.”
“What is it?” he inquired.
“You are going down to hell,” I replied, “as fast as time can take you. Oh, H—, my poor friend, I pity you from the bottom of my heart!”
“I hope I’m not,” said he in a half-startled manner, and for a moment I thought some impression was made on him. “I hope it’s not so bad as that!” again he exclaimed.
“It is,” I said, “every bit as bad as that. May God open your eyes to see it,” and again I urged him to come to the preaching.
Anxiously did I look out for him the next night, but in vain. He would not and he did not come.
Another year passed away, and in the summer of 1882 H― was employed on the top of a hayrick. He fell from a considerable height, and injured himself seriously. Again God spoke to him, and for two days he was confined to his bed. Alas! he was so drugged by the devil’s opiate, his conscience was so dulled and blunted by sin, that he appeared as careless and indifferent as a stone. On the third day he got up, but almost immediately dropped down dead, and passed into eternity; but WHERE?
Reader, how is it with your soul? If you were suddenly called away, could you say, “It’s all peace, perfect peace”? If not, be warned of the danger of continuing another moment in your present condition.
Peace with God, beloved reader, is a blessed thing on a death-bed, and be assured it is equally blessed in life. This priceless blessing may be yours freely, and on the spot; for the work on which it rests was finished on the cross, and the risen Saviour proclaims to every sin-burdened conscience those peace giving words: “PEACE UNTO YOU.” (John 20:1919Then the same day at evening, being the first day of the week, when the doors were shut where the disciples were assembled for fear of the Jews, came Jesus and stood in the midst, and saith unto them, Peace be unto you. (John 20:19).)
“Lord, while our souls in faith repose
Upon Thy precious blood,
Peace like an even river flows,
And mercy like a flood.”
A. H. B.