S. P. B., an English lady, was brought to the knowledge of God’s saving grace on the death of her mother whom she tenderly loved. This irreparable loss was, however, blessedly repaired, as naught else could do, by the revelation to her soul of a Saviour. Rom. 9:18-2418Therefore hath he mercy on whom he will have mercy, and whom he will he hardeneth. 19Thou wilt say then unto me, Why doth he yet find fault? For who hath resisted his will? 20Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus? 21Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honor, and another unto dishonor? 22What if God, willing to show his wrath, and to make his power known, endured with much longsuffering the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction: 23And that he might make known the riches of his glory on the vessels of mercy, which he had afore prepared unto glory, 24Even us, whom he hath called, not of the Jews only, but also of the Gentiles? (Romans 9:18‑24) sufficed in the hands of the Spirit of God to comfort, and fill to overflowing, the vessel so needy.
Soon S.P.B. found ample scope for her talents which were of no mean order, in the beautiful but wicked city of Paris, where, with her aged father, she resided. She was the first lady to obtain permission from the French Government (the hospitals there being under state rule) to visit Protestant patients in the fine Beaujon Hospital. It was she, too, who had the privilege of showing the late Florence Nightingale over the building which won the admiration of that queen of nurses ere she started with her band of noble women to tend the poor wounded soldiers at Scutari in 1854. The organization seemed so perfect! The long rows of white curtained beds, and polished floors, frequently found S.P.B. wending her way to some sufferer to pour in a sweet cordial from the word of God which she herself had so learned to prize.
The patients were known only by the number of their bed. Thus it was that on one occasion S.P.B. had her attention drawn to “45”—a poor woman who had entered within those walls to end her days. The precious volume was soon placed in her hands, and the contents were eagerly drunk in by this needy one.
Of all the subjects which rivetted her attention the tenth chapter of the Gospel of John was the greatest in her eyes—telling of the good Shepherd who gave His life for the sheep. The Lord opened her heart, as He did Lydia’s of old, and it was not long before peace, divine peace, was her portion. As the light of that love which passeth all understanding filled her poor heart, tokens of the grace she knew within did not fail to find expression. She now loved to share with a neighboring patient any little delicacy brought for herself by her kind visitor.
Her confession of faith was very simple. Ere she fell asleep, she was heard to exclaim, “Jesus has sought me, Jesus has found me, I have given myself to Him!” Here was a soul saved by grace through simply receiving the blessed news of the Good Shepherd. It so suited her case.
What an incentive to S.P.B!—was it not?—to persevere in carrying God’s holy word to the dear sufferers in that vast building! The Lord alone knows the fruit of such a ministry, but many will, in the day of Christ’s appearing, be the crown of rejoicing to our beloved sister in Christ—S.P.B. who has, now long ago, passed away from this scene.
I wonder how many of those who read these lines have proved for themselves the power and blessedness of God’s word concerning His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, who died—the Just One for us unjust—that, believing God’s testimony, the word of truth, we might have the blessed assurance of His love, His forgiveness; and know ourselves too as brought into His family—children, yea, sons of God, by faith in Jesus.
M.F. N.