DURING a terrible visitation of the cholera in Ireland, very many years ago, a servant of Christ, fatigued and exhausted after a day spent in ministering to many a sick and dying person, had retired early to his bed, hoping to enjoy for a few hours the repose which he much needed.
He lay for some time, but could not sleep. The scenes he had witnessed that day; the countenances of the dying, some racked with agonizing pain, and some in the livid, death-like torpor of the collapsed state, seemed still before him, and a nervous feverishness from this excitement banished sleep from his eyelids.
"Oh!" thought he, "that men were wise, that they understood this, that they would consider their latter end!" and he shuddered at the fearful contrast with that day had presented to him, in the case of too many.
The clock struck twelve, and he had just fallen into a slumber, when a knock at the hall door aroused him. He heard it opened, and in a few minutes his servant entered the room.
"Sir, there is a man below who says he must speak with you.”
"Ask him his name and business.”
"He says, sir, he must speak to yourself.”
Mr. T—rose, dressed himself in haste, and taking the candle left by his servant, descended into the hall.
The man stood close to the door. Mr. T— approached, and held the light to his face, which he seemed rather anxious to conceal.
The countenance which he beheld was appalling.
Dark and thick mustachios covered the upper lip; the beard was long and neglected; the eye was sunk, and exhibited an expression of being long familiarized with crime, and reckless of its consequences.
"What do you want with me?" said Mr. T—“I want you to come to a dying man, who wishes to speak with you.”
“What is his complaint?”
“Cholera.”
Mr. T—hesitated; and at length said,'" I cannot go with you. You do not even tell me your name, nor the place to which you would lead me.
I fear to trust my life in your hands.”
"You need not fear," said the stranger.
"What end would it serve to take your life? Come with me, take no money with you, and on my honor, you are safe.”
Mr. T— gave another glance at the man, and the word honor, connected with the appearance of such a person, made him smile. "Sit down," said he; "I will go with you.”
He went again to his chamber, committed himself to the care of his God and Father, prayed for His blessing on the intended visit to the dying man, and at once felt so strengthened and assured that he seemed to have lost all fear of accompanying his ferocious-looking caller.
He followed the man through many streets of the large and populous Irish city. It seemed as if they traversed it in its whole length, so tedious did the way appear. The watchmen were calling the hour of one, and still they proceeded. At length they came to a street, long and narrow, with houses bespeaking wretchedness, and well known as a quarter of the town remarkable for the vice as well as the poverty of its inhabitants. Here the guide stopped, and took out of his pocket a knife, with which he began to scrape away some earth from the ground.
"I can go no farther with you," said Mr. T—; but, considering he was already as much in the power of the man as he could be in any possible situation, his courage revived, and he watched with interest the movements of his strange companion.
After some time, the man opened a small trapdoor, which disclosed a vault of considerable depth, in which not a ray of light could be seen.
“Fear not, sir," said the man, as he let himself down by a rope fastened at the inside.
Mr. T—felt at this moment the danger of his situation. He might have fled, but he knew the man might soon overtake him, and in the dark he could scarcely find his way back. He therefore determined to see the end of this strange adventure, and committing himself again to the protection of the LORD, he watched at the end of the pit until he saw a light glimmer within it, by the faint rays of which, as it approached nearer, be saw the man place a ladder firmly, ascend a few steps, and entreat him to descend, assuring him again of his safety.
Mr. T—descended into this pit of darkness, which reminded him of the descent of the prophet Daniel into the den of lions; for at the bottom, stretched upon the ground in different attitudes, he saw a number of men, savage and ferocious-looking, as beasts of prey, raising their haggard countenances, and staring wildly upon him. The appearance of these men appalled Mr. T—.
“Have I," thought he, "got into the region where hope never comes?”
The vault was large; the candle which the man held scarcely lighted the spot where they stood, and left the other end in pitchy darkness. The man then led Mr. T— to a corner at the farther end, where, stretched upon straw, lay a man dying of cholera. Cramped in every limb, his eye sunk and hollow, and his skin exhibiting the blue-black hue attendant on this awful malady when there is scarce a hope of recovery, the sufferer presented a picture of human nature brought to the last extremity of wretchedness.
Mr. T—'s frame trembled. He had been used to seeing patients in this dreadful malady; but here was one in such a state as he had-never before witnessed.
“Did you wish to see me?" he asked the dying man.
“I did," he replied in a clear and distinct tone. "Why do you wish to see me?”
“Because," said the man, "some short time ago I wandered into the place where you preach, and heard you read what I wish you to read to me again: I want to hear it before I die. Oh! it has never left my mind. Night and day it sounded in my ear. I thought I could hide myself from God, but the darkness hideth not from Him. He has found me out; He has laid His hand heavily upon me; and soon shall I appear before Him, covered over with my crimes. And did I not hear you say, sir, that God would slay the wicked; that He would say: Depart from me, ye bloody men? Co God, I have sinned against Thee: Thou art just. There can be no hope for a wretch like me.”
Every nerve in his body seemed convulsed with agony; and he fixed his eye eagerly on his visitor, waiting anxiously to hear again that portion of Scripture which had first convinced him of his sin.
“Tell me some verse that will bring it to my memory," said Mr. T—.
“Oh! it told me," said the dying man," that God knew my downsitting and mine up-rising; that He understood my thoughts; that He compassed my path and lying down, and was acquainted with all my ways; and there was not a word in my tongue but God knew it altogether. That if I could climb up into heaven, He was there; if I went down to hell, He was there also.”
The visitor then knew it was the 139th Psalm that had carried conviction to this poor sinner's heart; he prayed that this might be the work of the Holy Spirit; and taking out his Bible, he read the 139th Psalm.
“Oh! that is it, that is it! "said the dying man, in a low voice. " Thank God, I have heard it again.”
The minister then said: “The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin." “This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.”
(1 John 1:7. 1 Tim. 1:15.) 1JO 1:7 1TI 1:15
“To save sinners!" said he. “But oh! not such sinners as I have been.”
“Yes, such as you," said the visitor." Here God says: "Come now, and let us reason together, saith the LORD; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.” (Isa. 1:18.) ISA 1:18
"How? how?" said the man eagerly.
"What must I do to be saved?”
“Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved. Your past sins will not condemn you. Christ is able to save to the uttermost all that come unto God by Him." (Heb. 7:25. Acts 16:31.) HEB 7:25 ACT 16:31
The man stretched out his hands, with upraised eyes, as if imploring mercy. “God be merciful to me a poor sinner “he faintly uttered, and in that attitude his soul departed.
Mr. T— looked around him. “The light of the gospel can illume even this dungeon of darkness and horror, "thought he." On him who lay in darkness and the shadow of death has this light now shined.”
The rest of the men had kept at a distance, from the idea that something mysterious must pass between a dying soul and his spiritual instructor, which others were not to hear. But Mr. T— determined not to depart without a word of exhortation to them; and coming forward into their midst he spoke to them of the awful state in which they were sunk; invited them also to come to Jesus, and obtain from Him a full and free pardon for all their past offenses. “You know not, my fellow sinners," said he," how soon each of you may be summoned, like that poor man, before the awful bar of God. Cholera is sweeping this city from one end to the other. There is contagion in that corpse. I know not but this may be the last time I have an opportunity of declaring the gospel to poor perishing sinners.
I am a dying man addressing dying men. But oh! let the love of Christ, who poured out His blood upon the cross to save lost sinners, speak to you, and urge you to quit this pit of destruction: a faint type of that hell to which sin must lead you. Return to habits of honest industry. Nothing but idleness and crime could have brought you into this place.
“It is true," said the man who led him there. "It was crime brought us here. We are a gang of robbers. Our lives, sir, are in your hands; but, as a minister of Christ, I depend on your not betraying us. We could not now get employment. No one would trust us.”
"Come to Christ. Believe in Him; you will find Him all-sufficient, a very present help," said Mr. T— "Farewell, we may never meet again in this world; but a time will come when we shall meet. And, oh! on that awful day, may I find that this message of mercy has been blessed to all your souls!”
The man conducted the servant of Christ until he was past the dark narrow street, and could find his way easily to his home, where he returned with sensations of astonishment at the strange and well-nigh romantic scene he had witnessed; it almost appeared to him like a dream; but he blessed God for sending him as His messenger to to declare the gospel to that poor sinner, to proclaim liberty to this wretched bond-slave of Satan. "Oh" said he, "is not this a brand plucked out of the fire?”
This is no fictitious narrative. It is truth, however romantic it may seem. What an important testimony does it afford to the efficacy of God's word, w hen applied to the heart by the Holy Spirit! “The word of God is quick and powerful, and sharper than any two edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joint, and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart." (Heb. 4:12.) HEB 4:12 Like what was said by the Samaritan woman, it told this robber all that he ever did. He had wandered into the meeting place by accident, as he thought. But was it chance? No.
May we not hope that this poor man was one of those rare instances wherein a mercy which has no bounds is extended at the last hour, so that no sinner should despair? An arrow of conviction was sent into his heart, which rankled there till a messenger came to speak peace to his soul, and pour the gospel balm into his wounded conscience. And He who has all hearts in His hand, disposed the robber's hardened and ferocious companions in guilt, to send for the servant of Christ whom he wished to see, although it exposed themselves to danger, and put their lives, as they said, in his hands.
Reader, if you have not already obtained pardon through Christ's most precious blood, you need it as much as this poor robber. “Oh! seek it while it is called to-day." "Him that cometh to me," said the blessed Jesus," I will in no wise cast out." (John 6:37.) JOH 6:37
Inscribed upon the cross we see,
In shining letters, "GOD Is LOVE'”
The Lamb; who died upon the tree,
Has brought us mercy from above.
The CROSS! it took our guilt away;
It holds the fainting spirit up;
It cheers with hope the gloomy day,
And sweetens every bitter cup.
The balm of life, the cure of woe,
THE MEASURE AND THE PLEDGE OF LOVE;
The sinner's refuge here below,
The theme of praise in heaven above.