AT the close of a Sunday evening religious service, some years ago, an invitation was given to those among the congregation who were anxious about their souls to stay behind for private conversation and prayer.
Among them was a young man, between nineteen and twenty years of age, who was evidently in much distress of mind. A Christian brother went up to him, and found him in tears. He spoke to him about his soul, prayed earnestly for the Lord to interfere, and make this young man His own.
That prayer was heard, and the tears of sorrow, on account of many great sins, were turned into tears of joy on account of so' great salvation, through faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and His finished work.
The young man had a sad history to relate, the substance of which was as follows.
He was born in one of the large manufacturing towns of the midland counties, and, while young, was allowed a good deal of liberty by his parents.
When he was fourteen years of age his father thought it was time for him to commence learning a trade, and apprenticed him to a tradesman for seven years.
Up to this time he had been taken occasionally by his friends to' the theater, and one or two music halls, and also had been allowed to go by himself.
His visits toy these places now became much more frequent, and most of his pocket-money was spent in this way. He imbibed a strong liking for the stage, and went as often as he could, not only to be entertained, but to learn the songs and mariners of the performers. He had a pretty good voice, and having a good memory, was not long in learning off some of the songs, which he would sing among his companions.
This soon led to bolder steps, and in a Nery little time he got an engagement to sing in public for a few nights a week. This, however, reached the ears of his master, who at once forbade him continuing his public singing, under the penalty of being sent to prison.
Now came the turning-point. Either he must obey his master or defiantly pursue his own course, and take the consequences.
He chose the latter. But to continue his singing in the same town was quite out of the question. Consequently, he wrote to a music hail manager in Liverpool, for an engagement as comic singer, under the assumed name of Harry Clifford.
He succeeded in obtaining the appointment, and in a few days he was at the place.
What a step he had taken! He had left his home and his employment, and gone into a strange town, to live among strangers. He had entered upon a course of life the temptations and penalties of which only those who have passed through it can know fully. Most suitable would have been the advice of Solomon at this time, “Enter not into the path of the wicked, and go not in the way of evil men. Avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it and pass away. For they sleep not, except they have done mischief; and their sleep is taken away, unless they cause some to fall.” (Prov. 4:14, 1514Enter not into the path of the wicked, and go not in the way of evil men. 15Avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it, and pass away. (Proverbs 4:14‑15).)
He stayed at Liverpool seven or eight months, and in that time he altered much for the worse.
Drinking, smoking, going home in the early hours of the morning, and sleeping in the daytime, had their ill effects upon his constitution.
He then left Liverpool for other places. But we need not follow him from one place to another; suffice it to say, that, as he had entered upon a downward and road, every step he took was a step lower still.
And how long was this to continue? Was he to go on in this way until, with shattered constitution, he fell into an early grave, and worse than all, into a burning hell? Except for the mercy of God he would have done so. But through that great mercy he was stopped in time.
In the autumn of 18— caught a violent cold, which deprived him of the use of his voice. At first it was thought to be but a slight ailment, but it proved otherwise; for not only was his voice gone, but his lungs shared in the effects of the cold.
How altered his position now! Up to this time he had had plenty of money, and consequently plenty of friends; but hid money was soon gone, and with it his friends also. It was quite impossible for him to fulfill his engagement as a comic singer, and he was quite at a loss to know what to do.
He resolved to go to London, and see if he could get employment at his old trade, or anything else that would turn up. When he got there he found it was not so easy a thing as he had imagined. Many 'a long day did he spend in search of employment. As his voice was getting better, he tried to get an engagement at a small music hall.' In this, however, he did not succeed. His voice was not equal to it.
In this his extremity, he heard of a situation at Greenwich, which he thought would suit him. For this he made application, and was successful; but had to tell a great many falsehoods, besides giving his false name, to make his case good.
His master was a Christian, and at the end of the first week gave him a trifle more than he had agreed to do, and asked him if he would like to go on the following Sunday and hear a preacher of the gospel.
He went, to please his master, and because he thought it might be to his interest.
On the following Sunday he went again. He liked the preacher, and thought he was a very good speaker; he enjoyed the singing, and was very pleased with the way in which the people treated him, shaking hands with him, and lending him a Bible and hymn book. But as to what the preacher said, or what was the meaning of the words from the Bible, he was as ignorant and careless as any there. The only impression which the preaching had upon him was that one night he thought he ought to begin to pc air, and for the future he meant to say “The Lord's Prayer " night and morning. By doing so, and going regularly to chapel, he thought he had done all that was necessary.
Sunday after Sunday found him' on the same seat in the chapel. The members began to look upon him as a sincere young man. But they did not know him. I mean, none of them knew him as God did. His eye not ',only saw him in chapel on Sundays, but saw him during the week, saw how he spent his evenings, saw him with wicked companions in the public-house playing at cards, and singing songs for the amusement of the company.
But soon he was to be changed! Soon he was to be stripped of his hypocrisy, and become a worshipper of God, in spirit and in truth! He knew it not, neither did such a thought enter his mind. But the time came at last.
On the Saturday night he had been with one of his companions to a public-house, where he stayed until time for closing; and having had too much to drink, could hardly stagger home.
When he got up on Sunday morning he had a sex ere headache, and had some slight feelings of remorse. As it was very late, he had scarcely time to dress and start off to chapel. However, go he must, or else whatever would the people think of him? But on his way he suddenly bethought himself that he had not said his prayers, either the previous night or that morning. This had such an effect upon him that he felt inclined to go back. What should he do? It seemed as if the only prop he had (namely, his prayers) was suddenly taken from under him.
He went to chapel. The minister preached, but the conscience-stricken sinner sat as though he heard him not. In the afternoon he went, as he usually did, to the Young Men's Christian Association. The friends spoke to him as before, but he only answered them with a "Yes" or "No.”
At night he went to chapel again, and here his unhappiness of mind increased. He wondered if there was anyone there so bad and miserable as he was. His conscience was thoroughly awakened.
What followed has already been related. He made an open confession of his guilt, and how he had been deceiving his master.
The Christian brother who spoke to him offered to go and see his master for him, which he did, Of course, his master was very much surprised; but, at the same time, glad at what had taken place, and sought to help, his now converted servant all he could.
And so this young man was stopped by God, just as he was on the brink of eternal ruin, and made a possessor of eternal life, and an inheritor of eternal joys, through faith, and the gift of God.
What a contrast! Would any of those men, with whom he was spending the previous night, believe that that young man, who could play at almost every low game, was now bending low before God a penitent sinner? No; they would laugh at the idea.
And perhaps the reader may begin to doubt the truth of what has been said, and put it down as merely a made-up, or at least an exaggerated tale.
If so, then let me say, dear reader, that it is quite true, and that young man is now living, a monument of God's mercy, and it is he who is now addressing you; praise be to the Lord!
And he would now address you personally. Are you a believer in Jesus, the sinner's Saviour?
Have you been brought to own your guilt, and fled to Him for pardon and salvation? If not, oh! let me beseech you to come to Him at once.
You may not have gone to the same lengths of wickedness that I did, and may you never do so; but still you are a sinner by nature, and unless saved through faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, you must go to that dreadful place which I so narrowly escaped.
Oh! what infinite, boundless love, to pick up such a worthless sinner as me, and make me a child of God! And now from the word of God I know that Jesus is my Saviour, God is my Father, and heaven is my home.
“Now I have found a Friend,
Jesus is mine.
His love can never end,
Jesus is mine.
Though earthly joys decrease,
Though human friendships cease,
Now I have lasting peace,
Jesus is mine.”
And there is the same Saviour for you, the same love for you, the same pardon, peace, and eternal life for y on, dear reader, whoever you are.
It is more than ten years since I first sketched this little history, and I can say to-day, Jesus is the best friend I ever had, “A Friend that sticketh closer than a brother." I have had some very severe trials to pass through, the hardest to bear being those brought on by my own want of faithfulness, but through them all I have found that “He abideth faithful," and as I look back I can say from my heart,"
I'll praise Him for all that is past,
And trust Him for all that's to come.”
in my unconverted days I was never so happy as when I was singing songs, but now I am never so happy as when I am speaking of the boundless love of Jesus to poor sinners. And oh, I do so wish that you might know Him too. It is with this desire that I send forth this little account of how stopped in time, praying the Lord to bless it to some precious soul.
Again I ask you, dear reader, are you saved?
Oh! do not think I mean someone else. If you are not certain that your sins are forgiven it is you I invite to come to Jesus at once. And more than that, He Himself invites you to come. Can you refuse? He who died on the cross to save sinners invites you to come. Can you refuse? It is because He has died, and God has accepted His blood as an atonement, that you can now at once be saved. Again I ask you, CAN YOU REFUSE?
“Oh! what love of God to send Him from on high,
Oh! what love of Jesus thus to bleed and die,
Oh! what love we owe for pardon brought so nigh,
Through faith in Jesus' blood.”
H. G. B.