ENQUIRING after one who, some months ago, had seemed very anxious as to his soul’s salvation, but who had not accepted the Saviour, my friends replied, “Poor man, he is dead.”
I asked if they had any hope for him. They could not tell; apparently as he had lived so he died. My thoughts reverted sadly to the first night I had met him. His daughter had been saved a few evenings previously, and he on the night I saw him came to hear the word of God. I particularly noticed the gray-headed old man sitting in front of me, for all through the meeting he appeared deeply affected. At the close, when such as were desirous to be saved were asked to remain, he kept his seat.
I held his hand in mine and pleaded with him, and then for some time continued in silent prayer for him. At last, with deep emotion, he muttered, “I must come to it.”
Knowing his position as the landlord of a public-house, and that withal he was fond of sitting and drinking with his customers, I said at once, “Ah! Mr. —, I know what you are doing.”
“What am I doing?” he answered abruptly.
“You have your public-house and your besetting sin in one hand, and Christ Jesus in the other. Now, as you say, ‘I must come to it,’ what are you going to do? It comes to this, Christ or the world? Oh, Mr.—, God grant that as you have said, ‘It must come to it,’ so it may be true, and that you will give up all, let go everything, and look only to Jesus. Overboard with everything, and accept Christ!”
I shall never forget that scene! The old man arose, and, brushing his tears away, left the room.
I was afterward told that he could not sleep that night, and at the hour of midnight requested his daughter to read the word of God to him, so exceedingly was he troubled; yet he soon forgot, or apparently forgot, his deep concern for eternal things, and he is now in eternity. T. H.