“WHETHER I did the best or the worst for myself then, I really don’t know.”
The speaker was a medical man, bordering on sixty years of age. The words fell not on my ears, but on those of an old friend of mine.
Some few weeks since the latter, who lives in the north of England, casually met me in the house of a mutual friend in the west of England, and at once said, “Doctor, I have been for some time wanting to see you, that I might tell you an incident which will, I think, interest you. Do you remember a medical student named W—?”
“Perfectly,” I replied, “he lived with me in his student days in Edinburgh in 1875. What about him? I have heard nothing of him since he graduated.”
“Well, as you know, I now live in O—, and Doctor W—was our family physician. About three years ago he was sent for to see one of my children, and taken into a room in which he had not previously been. On the wall was a rather recent photograph of you. It caught his eye, and going up to it he scanned it intently for quite half a minute. Then he turned round to me and said, ‘That old fellow did his best to get me converted long ago. I used to live with him in my student days. Yes, I must say he did his level beat to get me converted, but, you see, I did not want it, and I would not have it. Whether I did the best, or the worst for myself then I really don’t know.’ Six weeks from that date he died quite suddenly of pneumonia”
“He knows now,” was my response. “Did he ever, to your knowledge, take the place of being a Christian?”
“Not that I ever heard of,” replied my informant. “He had married a worldly wife, and seemed a man of the world, so far as I could judge.”
This narrative affected me much. W—was an orphan, a nice gentle young fellow in 1875. His friends, who got me to receive him, were earnest Christians, and I well remember that I often spoke with him about his soul’s salvation. He listened respectfully, but I always felt that he was silently refusing the offers of mercy and grace, which God sent to him through my lips, and also through some other converted young medical students who resided with me then.
What took place in his soul, between 1875 and 1911, I cannot say, but the sad confession of ignorance, uttered a few weeks before his end, does not give ground for much hope that he died a converted man. I fear much that he “did the worst” for himself, when in 1875 he determined not to receive Christ as his Saviour and Lord. He then missed an opportunity of serving Him for thirty-five years, and, I fear, lost his soul to boot by choosing the world. Dear W—knows now whether he did his best or worst then.
Reader, how is it with your soul? Are you converted yet? If not, do not delay in coming to Christ. Be not like the subject of this tale, nor like Balaam. He said, “Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his” (Numb. 23:1010Who can count the dust of Jacob, and the number of the fourth part of Israel? Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his! (Numbers 23:10)). Do you know how he died?Fighting against God and his people. “Balaam, also the son of Beor, the soothsayer, did the children of Israel slay with the sword among them that were slain by them” (Deut. 13:22). If you are going to die the death of the righteous you will need to live the life of the righteous, that is by the faith of Christ, and follow Him to the end.
Curiously enough, just one month after the foregoing was told me, I met, in the same house, in the west of England, a gray-haired doctor of medicine, who had been a student in Edinburgh in the early seventies. He has been an earnest Christian for over forty years, and now in his old age devotes himself to preaching the Word of God.
I told him the foregoing tale, and he remarked at once, “Poor fellow, he knows now.” I then asked him how he himself was converted. And this is his tale-
“In 1871, when a medical student in Edinburgh, some Christian friends, after much entreaty—for till then I cared for none of these things—induced me to go and hear you preach the Gospel in the Town Hall. Portobello. I became interested and went for four consecutive Sunday evenings. The fourth night you were preaching on Zacchaeus, and that night I was converted to God.”
“What part of that tale arrested you?”
“Oh, the Lord’s words, Zacchaeus, make haste, and come down, for today I must abide at thy house’ (Luke 19:55And when Jesus came to the place, he looked up, and saw him, and said unto him, Zaccheus, make haste, and come down; for to day I must abide at thy house. (Luke 19:5)). That did it.”
“And do you think you did the ‘best or the worst’ for yourself that night?”
“I know the Lord did His best for me. I came to Him, and He saved me that night, praise His name, and He has kept me ever since—forty-three years now.”
“And have you ever repented of being converted when you were young?”
“Repented! I should think not, and never shall. It has been a long life of joy in the Lord, and happy service of Him.”
Glorious testimony! What a contrast to the woeful admission of the other student!
I wonder, my dear reader, which of these two doctors you are like. Read the story again, and if up till now you have been undecided for Christ, just now decide for him. You could not do better. God forbid that you should do “the worst” for yourself by still procrastinating.
Hear and obey the Saviour’s words: — “MAKE HASTE... FOR TODAY I MUST ABIDE AT THY HOUSE.”
W. T. P. W.