ON a Sunday afternoon, thirty years ago, an English officer and his bride were proceeding gaily, in company with many other sight-seers, towards St. Peter's at Rome, to witness a gorgeous service; and in all the stream of people there were no hearts lighter than those of this young couple.
They were talking about some friends of theirs then in Rome, who had the means to gratify every desire, and yet whose general condition was one of utter discontent. Now, how happy we are! "said Captain Gray." We have nothing to grumble about.
We pity these poor people, although we haven't as many hundreds a year as they have thousands.”
Mrs. Gray assented joyously. And then he added, after thinking, "Happiness comes from God: it is His gift. How good He is to us! We ought to be very grateful to Him." They contrasted their sunny lives with those of others, until there was in their hearts a kind of yearning to know who the beneficent God really was. It was the goodness of God leading them to repentance. (Rom. 2:4.)
That night Mrs. Gray drew a little book, out of her traveling bag, and exclaimed in laughing surprise, "Crumbs of Comfort'! Who could have put this here?”
“Some unknown friend," said her husband; and, contrary to what they would have done on any day before, they read it aloud, impressed with the incident as a sequel to that of the afternoon. Then the two knelt down together for the first time, and offered up the little prayer printed upon the tract.
Some months later they were at a town which was a veritable Vanity Fair, but in which they heard preachers, who told people what they should give up, but did not set before them Christ as a Saviour, not only from future death, but in the present life— as a Person and Object of Desire, Friend, Counselor, Comforter. Captain Gray listened eagerly to some of this preaching, which convinced him that he was in the wrong way, but did not show him how to find the right one.
The curate of one of the preachers referred to, a good and earnest man, said one day to Captain Gray that he thought people, who were anxious about their souls, learned much at the bedsides of the sick, and asked him to come and see a poor woman who was dying.
Captain Gray, believing that at least the awfulness of death would make this world less enthralling, and the one beyond more real to his heart, willingly agreed.
On the way, the curate told him that the woman had led a very wicked life, and during her illness had been terribly afraid of dying. God had shown her that she was a sinner, and for the last week, up to yesterday, while he talked, and read, and prayed beside her, she had lain in a kind of agony, overshadowed by the powers of darkness. Sometimes her terror and horror were so great that those around her saw the perspiration rolling down her face.
Day after day the curate agonized for her soul, and at last, when he poured forth his heart, pleading with God the work of Christ, the poor woman suddenly was freed from her bonds, and cried out in rapture, "Jesus! Jesus!”
When they reached the poor woman's bedside she was lying, peaceful and happy, as though asleep.
“She's better, sir," said her attendant, in answer to the curate's inquiry. "She's been quiet ever since.”
Quiet ever since she believed on Christ, her Saviour from sin and from Satan.
“I am glad to hear that you are better. Would you not like to recover now, and come back to your friends?" said Captain Gray.
“Not for anything!" she answered, in great surprise. "I am going to Jesus.”
“But are not you afraid to die?”
“No, no! I hope I shall go to-day or to-morrow. Jesus will be with me.”
“O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?" This text, one of the very few he knew, came into his mind at this instant, and he said to himself, amazed and feeling as though in the midst of a revelation, "Now I believe that what the Bible says is true." If it was true, he argued, that death itself—to him a desperate wrench—a plunge into black and icy waters—an utter dread of loneliness—could thus be transformed almost to a rapture through faith in Christ, and by His felt presence, He and His work must be exactly what the Bible declared.
How real a Saviour is Jesus! As soon as the poor woman called upon Him in faith, she saw that He had died for her sins. And more, she was given to know that, having loved her thus, He would love her and keep her forever.
Captain Gray went home and prayed for hours, and before he rose from his knees he had cast himself on Christ, the mighty Saviour.
As has been said, thirty years have passed away since the time of our story, and from that time its subject has been working for his Lord and Saviour, and finding his deepest pleasure and only satisfaction in the love which surpasses knowledge.
G. C. C.