WE have, within the last few days, heard of a case which has interested us exceedingly, and we are anxious to lay it before our readers, and to secure for it a permanent corner in our magazine. There is great value, and not unfrequently great power, in the record of God's dealings with a soul; nor have we, during the entire progress of the revival, heard of anything that has interested us more deeply than the case of the German squire. We can merely undertake to give the substance of the narrative, without vouching for the perfect accuracy of details.
This squire seems to have belonged to a class of persons who affect to despise' the word of God, and, as a consequence, to hate the name of Jesus. Being visited, on one occasion, by a Christian pastor, he charged him on no account, to name the name of Jesus 'while under his roof. The pastor assented, and spoke only of God,' as displayed in creation. He dwelt upon the exhibition of power and wisdom in the works of God, and having done so he took his leave.
Being invited by the squire to repeat his visit, the pastor did so, and spoke of God in His righteousness; in His holiness; in His majesty; in His hatred of sin, and 'again took his leave. Here the squire's conscience was reached. The arrow of the Almighty penetrated the joints of the harness in which his infidel system had encased him. He was a convicted sinner. The flimsy cobwebs of rationalism gave way before the stern realities of his personal guilt and the holiness of God.
The proud, self-sufficient skeptic became 'a humble broken-hearted penitent.
When the pastor called again, he found the squire in a state of intense mental anguish.
He felt the weight of God's claims bearing down upon his conscience, and his, own utter incompetency to meet them. God, as seen in creation and providence, was a vast distance from him. There was a great gulf between, which he could not bridge. He was wretched, and in the depth of his wretchedness he asked the pastor if, he could not give him any relief.
No," said he," I can do nothing for you; you have strictly forbidden me to name the only One who can do you any good, or afford you any comfort.”
This was a: moment of profound interest in the spiritual history of the, squire. The entire superstructure of rationalism, skepticism, and infidelity had given way. He beheld it all as a mass of ruins, and himself a ruin in the midst of ruins. Neither creation nor providence could furnish a resting place for his poor burdened heart and guilty conscience.
He had, under the blinding power of a senseless infidelity, sedulously excluded from his thoughts “the only. Name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved,” even the precious, peerless, powerful Name of Jesus, the only medium through which the beams of divine glory can pour themselves, in beauteous harmony and consistency,, upon the soul of the sinner; the only ground whereon "God can be just and the Justifier" of the most ungodly sinner that believeth. He had built tip a system for himself in which the name of Christ had no place. The Materials of this system, had been furnished, not by revelation, but by rationalism, the most dreary of all isms. He had under the ensnaring influence of a proud intellectualism, entrenched himself behind what he vainly imagined to be the impregnable bulwarks of infidelity. He had tried to erect a platform of his own whereon to meet God; but now he found out his grand mistake. Christ is the only platform on which a holy God and a guilty sinner can meet; but he had shut out Christ. He would not have Him. His motto in reference to Christ was, “Oh, breathe not His name!”
What a moment! The poor squire was really miserable. He knew not what to do.
There was a link missing', and he knew not where to find it. An object was needed which his infidel system could not supply. A holy God! How could he meet Him? A righteous God! How could he stand before Him? A sin-hating God! How could he ever approach Him? What was to be done? It was indeed a moment of intense interest, a solemn crisis, a season never to be forgotten. 'He earnestly begged the pastor to go on, to tell him all, to keep nothing back. The door of his heart, which had, for so long a time, been secured by the strong bolts of infidelity, was now flung open. His conscience was fully reached. The plow had done its work, and the pastor had but to enter with the seed basket, and sow the seeds of a full and free gospel in the deep furrows of a convicted soul in a word, he preached Christ, that long rejected, much hated name. He showed the squire that the atoning sacrifice of the Son of God was the only thing that could put away sin, and justify 'God in receiving the sinner. He showed him that in the cross of Christ, " mercy and truth had met together; righteousness and' peace had kissed each other "; that all the divine attributes were gloriously harmonized; that V sin was put away, and God glorified; that in the death of Christ all the claims of God, and all the claims of conscience, had been perfectly answered: This 'was enough. The squire found rest for his troubled soul. 'He believed the record, and was made happy in believing. The bridge had been 'presented to him, and he instantly availed himself of it, to pass across that otherwise impassable gulf that, separated 'him from God. 'He saw in Christ the One who fins up every point between the throne of God` and' the deepest depths of a sinner's moral ruin. He 'found his all in that very name which he had so strictly forbidden `he named beneath his roof. C. H. M.
(From Things New and Old, 1861.)