Too intoxicated to know what she was doing, or that she had no right there, a miserable creature, clothed in rags, entered unperceived the door of a private house, found her way into the empty dining room, and taking possession of the sofa, fell fast asleep. Darkness came on, the shutters were closed without the intruder being noticed; but when early the following morning the footman went in to open the windows, his astonishment may be imagined in discovering a woman, still in a drunken sleep; comfortably ensconced there! A terrible picture of shame and depravity she presented, with only a few rags about her, and with not merely a black eye, but half her face one swollen purple bruise. She could give no account of how she came there; so, not knowing what to do with such a creature, the police were called, and she was eventually brought before the magistrate. There her language and tone of voice betrayed that although so terribly sunk and held by the fetters of sin, she was a woman of education, and had been of refinement; and touched by her tale of sorrow, as well as her manifest shame and regret, the magistrate discharged her, on her promise to sign the pledge.
She was then taken to one whose delight it was (and still is) to tell of a Saviour who came to seek and save the lost among the poor and outcasts. He listened to her story, and then said:
“Well, Mrs.—, you have signed the pledge. Do you expect to keep it?”
“Yes, sir, I hope so.”
“How do you expect to keep it?”
“I shall pray, sir.”
“You are right; God answers prayer. But now suppose you go on well for a month or two and then forget to pray and fall again, what then?”
With a sigh that seemed to come from the very depth of her being she answered, “I don’t know what I could do then.”
“Ah!” he replied, “I will tell you a more excellent way.” And then he told her of One whom he knew, of One who had received him just as he was, years before; One who came “not to call the righteous but sinners”; who “receiveth sinners”; who saves His people not only from the consequences and judgment of sin, but from sin itself, and who, in the words of the hymn, “Breaks the power of canceled sin”; but who, in order to save the sinner, had borne the judgment, had exhausted the wrath, had satisfied the claims of God, and who still says, “Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.” There was no need to tell her she was a sinner—she knew it; no need to expatiate on the power and deadliness of sin—she had proved it too well; but when she heard of a Saviour who would take her just as she was, who would claim her from her sins, and keep her from them, who had pledged Himself (and never could break it) to save all along the way those “who come unto God by him,” she fell on her knees before Him, and then and there yielded herself, spirit, soul, and body, to Him. And He who says “him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out” spoke to her heart the words He uttered long ago: “Daughter, be of good comfort, thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace and be whole of thy plague.” “Thy sins are forgiven.”
Her new friend, who had thus been the means of introducing the Saviour to the sinner, did not forsake her, but most kindly found a suitable lodging and supplied her need until she could support herself by honest employment.
To obtain this he called one day on a gentleman of high social standing, who was greatly interested in the “temperance cause,” and to him he related the foregoing account.
“And do you think she will really keep the pledge?” he queried.
“I am sure of it. She is a new creature; she has been born again,” he replied.
“Whatever do you mean?” asked the gentleman. “I never heard of such a thing.”
“Sir! you a member of the Church of England—a churchwarden—never heard of such a thing ! Have you never read the thirty-nine articles? Have you never read the third of John?”
The gentleman was silent, and his visitor, fearing he had spoken too warmly, apologised for anything that sounded like disrespect, but added he must express what God had taught him.
“ My dear fellow ! I am not offended. But you are putting new thoughts in my mind that have never been there before.” And the elderly, honoured gentleman, high in his country’s service, the churchwarden and temperance advocate, learned that he too must be “born again” ; that he needed a new nature, else he “should not see the kingdom of God” ; and learned too that it was for him—the perishing—that the Son of man had been lifted up ; and believing on Him, he too passed from death unto life—a “new creature.”
Reader ! which side of the broad road are you? Greater contrast could hardly be between the degraded, drunken sot, and the respectable, religious gentleman; but both needed a Saviour ; both were found by that Saviour ; both are now being carried on His shoulders home “even to hoar hairs.” Will both rise up in the judgment against you a Christ rejector?
T.