THE case of H. had much interested the writer and several Christians who were in the habit of visiting him. He was an intelligent man, about forty years old, rather deaf, very reserved, and evidently quite unwilling to listen to the sweet story of the love of Christ; but he was very ill, and those who knew in some measure the value of the sou. could not bear to leave him alone.
Nearing his house one day, and quite dreading to meet him, I prayed earnestly that I might not be admitted unless the Lord had a message for him through me. The answer came quickly; quite contrary to his usual custom, H. spoke freely—told me that he was trusting in his repentance and good works, and quoted, as though it were his creed, the sentence, “Hard work and fair play are next to prayer.”
I pleaded earnestly with him, repeating the text, “Your righteousnesses are as filthy rags,” and said, “You would not venture into the queen’s presence clothed in garments unfit for that presence, and yet you are going into the presence of God clothed in what He calls ‘filthy rags.’” God’s word went home like an arrow; he was thoroughly broken down, and groaned like a man who feels the very ground slipping from under his feet.
The next time I saw him he said quietly, “It (meaning his own righteousness) may do for my neighbor, but it won’t do for God.”
After this, another Christian visited H. and God blessed his words to bring his soul into peace.
Next time I called all was changed. He was occupied with Christ alone—Christ risen—Christ in glory—Christ pleading for him. Indeed, so absorbed was he with the glorious theme that he seemed to have forgotten himself and even the fact of his being saved.
After this, I never remember hearing him express a doubt of his safety. All reserve was gone, and he loved to speak of his past life, and of God’s dealings with him. He said that what led him to decide was the remembrance of a text learned in his boyhood— “My Spirit shall not always strive with man”; and he thought, “If I don’t yield now, this may be my last chance.”
H. had been a deep thinker, fond of reading, and taking great delight in God’s works in creation, but an infidel friend with whom he had worked, had drawn him aside. This resulted in his eagerly reading the books, and hearing the lectures of avowed unbelievers, until he was lost in a maze of bewildering doubt. He even left his wife for some time, because she would not embrace his views, saying that a house divided against itself could never stand.
A publication which came in his way was the first means of shaking his infidelity, and gradually God led him on by His Spirit, till, with the simple faith of a little child, he trusted the Lord Jesus and was happy, resting in perfect peace after the long dark years of doubt and uncertainty.
It was good to visit him during the last few months of his life, and to see how he glorified God in the midst of intense suffering. He was most earnest in urging his wife to come to Christ, and to train up their only child for Him. One of the last days I saw him, his wife said to me, “He’s much lower than last time you called”; he caught the words, and said, most expressively, “I’m lower, but I’m better.”
“You mean you will soon be home?”
“Yes, I shall soon be with the Lord.”
As the end came he spoke to his wife of nearing “the great river,” but said he knew the Lord would meet him at the landing place, and added, “Mary, you can come too.” As he himself remarked, “How dark the death bed would be without hope”; but the Lord Himself had plucked him as a brand from the burning fire. C. S.