TOWARDS the summit of a hill among the moors of Yorkshire lived a farmer, whose rough exterior covered a tender heart, softened by the benign influence of personal acquaintance and habitual intercourse with the Lord of Glory, revealed in grace to himself in years long past.
Jones, who was not without the quaintness that is indigenous to that locality, one afternoon, milking his cows in a cowshed adjoining his house, was called upon by a gentlemanly and rather ministerially-got-up, person from the civilized south, who introduced himself as “a brother in Christ.”
“Oh!” said our farmer, looking up from his cow, “do you know any one worse than yourself?”
As one might naturally suppose, his visitor was slightly disconcerted and rather taken aback at such an unexpected encounter; a certain shock, too, to his ministerial proclivities which found themselves in a moment in the presence of that which was at least their equal, if not more. But being a true man nevertheless, after gathering up his scattered faculties, he replied, “Well, no, I do not.”
“Come in to dinner, then,” said our farmer, and having common interests they were soon fast friends.
We may say in passing that we have seen the tears slowly trickling down the cheeks of this seemingly rough man in speaking of the subject that always warmed his heart on that bleak hillside. He has long since entered into his rest, the end of the path of life, into that presence where there is “fullness of joy,” awaiting the resurrection morn, “the morning without clouds” — “the pleasures for evermore.”
And now we would ask you, dear friend, the same question, or rather, we would ask you to put it to yourself, “Do you know any one worse than yourself?” Such enlightenment, let us say, is a trait of the household of faith, for it is unknown in the nature of things outside of it — for what can produce it, nothing but the finding of oneself in the presence of light and true holiness.
The Word of God abounds with instances of it, and God Himself is always careful to inculcate it. Job is a bright example of it, as well as of the way to it, under the tuition of the wisdom of God. After a long and trying process he is brought to confess that “I am vile,” but even that was not deep enough for God, who had marked him out for exceptional blessing, so in result we find him exclaiming, “I have heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear: but now mine eye seeth Thee. Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes” (Job 42:5, 65I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear: but now mine eye seeth thee. 6Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes. (Job 42:5‑6)). And what was God’s answer? “My servant Job... him will I accept.”
The same may be said of Saul of Tarsus, “the chief of sinners,” and of Peter likewise, who said when brought into the presence of the glory of Christ, “Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord” (Luke 5:88When Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus' knees, saying, Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord. (Luke 5:8)). It is the sight of oneself in the true light which repels, tether with the consciousness of the love and grace which draws; and in the light of that Presence what know we of other people’s hearts but by our own?
Oh, to be followers of Him, who, though in the form of God, took on Him the form of a servant, and who being found in fashion as a man became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross. Therefore God hath highly exalted Him and given Him a name that is above every name. May each that reads hear that “Echo of Mercy,” and have that “new name,” even “My new name,” written on them with that indelibleness of His that can never be effaced, is our earnest prayer!
W. F. B.