The doctor had spoken plainly, for his patient had asked to know the whole truth. This patient was an infidel, a bold one so he imagined; but to be told that in three months' time he would be forced out of this life had shaken him somewhat. However, the shock was evidently only momentary.
Soon an infidel friend called to see him, and on learning the news, was very sympathetic, of course. Yet what could he say but, "Don't show the white feather." Emphatically the sick man had replied that he would not.
A Christian relative also called to see him and suggested that he might be glad to have a visit from someone who could tell him of God's way of salvation. His reply was harsh and decisive. "I do not want anyone to come here talking rubbish. If you have nothing better to say to me, stay away."
This was a burden, and sorely troubled the Christian. He confided it to me, and many a prayer went up to God that the dying infidel might have his eyes opened.
The weeks passed, and an answer to our prayers came at last. It was in the shape of a request that the Christian relative would go to his bedside as quickly as possible. I was sent instead. The sufferer knew me, and motioned me to a chair by his bedside. Then he said to me with a thrill of earnestness that I shall not soon forget, "I have been looking DEATH in the face for two months and I am still not ready for it."
Yes, the bravery and the infidelity had taken their flight from that sick chamber; but was this the "white feather" of cowardice in the presence of a great foe, or was it "repentance not to be repented of"? This was the question in my heart as I interrogated him as to how this change had come about.
It was soon evident that God had been speaking to him, and that this was real soul trouble. With a great gladness in my heart I told him of Jesus, God's way of salvation. I told him the story as I would have told it to a child, and he who had boasted in the breadth and strength of his mind listened to that story as a child would have listened.
Before I reached the end of it he put his hand on mine and said, "Stop." Then, while down his cheeks tears flowed fast, he said, "Lord Jesus, I trust in Thee; I trust Thee about all the past, and about all the future, and with the present."
Then turning to me he said, "You told me that He would not cast me out if I came to Him, did you not?"
"Yes," I replied, "I told you what He said: 'Him that cometh to Me, I will in no wise cast out.' "
"Well, I have come to Him; and has He received me? Will you ask Him that?"
On my knees I did so, and left him. Since then I have seen him again and heard of him often. His witness to the saving power of the Lord Jesus was very sweet and clear. A few days before the end he said to his doctor, "You have done your best for me, and I thank you. I am not afraid to go, for my destiny is settled in heaven. 'Thanks be unto God, who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.' "
Again the grace of God had triumphed; the chains were broken, and the darkness dispelled. Another witness to the long-suffering and saving mercy of God passed away to be with Christ.