AT a small cottage on the outskirts of one of our large manufacturing towns, there resided for many years a very poor family. The father was employed chiefly as an agricultural laborer, but as his scanty income was scarcely sufficient to support him and his family, it was with much difficulty that they struggled on through life. The children were of necessity put to work very young to earn a trifle towards their support, and were therefore deprived of the advantages of early instruction. Years rolled away, and some of the sons grew up to manhood, but through improper training were in many things very ignorant.
Henry, the one of whom I am now going to write, turned out a very wild youth. Having associated with wicked companions he was enticed into evil practices, seeking to satisfy the cravings of his carnal appetite with worldly pleasure, “reveling’s and such-like.” This unseemly course he pursued for a long time, indifferent as to where it might lead him. The time came, however, when he was compelled to make a sudden pause. Having enjoyed “the pleasures of sin for a season,” he was seized with an incurable disease. Hitherto he had regarded the salvation of his soul as a subject too gloomy to occupy one so young in years. “Loving darkness rather than light,” and thus in a measure self-deceived, he had rushed on “in the ways of darkness” until this unlooked-for calamity came upon him. His illness increased, and he saw his end was rapidly approaching. He now began to awake from his long delusive dream to a sense of his danger, as having no hope and without God in the world, and became exceedingly troubled at the thought of dying unsaved. But how he was, to be saved he knew not. Reflection upon his past ungodly life afforded him no relief. The entreaties he had scorned, the admonitions he had despised or neglected — all came flashing through his soul, only to add to the terror he experienced. He now saw the salvation of his soul to be of immediate importance, but he could not save himself, nor did he know where to turn for relief. He looked anxiously around, but there was none to help. His dear friends looked upon him with pity, and were able in some little degree to relieve his bodily sufferings; but they could do nothing to ease the anguish of his diseased soul. Ah no! the seat of that fearful malady none could reach but God. But he had no faith in God; he thought that he was his enemy. What a mistake! What a delusion of Satan! On the contrary, God was only waiting to be gracious to him — waiting to bestow upon him the gift of “eternal life.” It is true that in every dispensation, God has had “no pleasure in the death of the wicked.” Truly God is the sinner’s chiefest friend, for “God is love.” Yes, on every page of his divinely inspired word, the Bible, may be seen the eternal truth that “God is love.” The one precious golden word “love,” in the person of Jesus Christ, stamps forever the character of God. And God commendeth his love to the sinner, as though by us beseeching him to be reconciled to him on the ground of the finished work of his Son Jesus Christ.
But Satan, the great opponent of God and enemy of never-dying souls, had misrepresented God in the heart of this afflicted young man; hence he shrank at the thought of meeting him. He would fain have hid away from God, or have delayed the solemn hour to which he was speedily hastening. But this was impossible; whether prepared or not he knew he must very shortly meet a dying hour. Therefore, like a rushing tide, despair filled and overflowed his soul. He not only saw but felt his own helplessness. He searched again and again, but could not find one particle of goodness or even soundness in his poor self. “From the sole of the foot even unto the head, there was no soundness in” him. Like a drowning man he would fain have grasped at any twig within his reach, rather than own himself a complete wreck, and thus become an object for the super abounding mercy of God, But he had nothing to cling to, and was therefore obliged to sank; and haring done so, God could and did in his own way, in pity, love, and compassion, put forth his gracious hand and rescue him. Oh what lovely grace!
“Ah! grace it is — free grace,
That saves our souls from hell.”
But to pass on. It was while this dying sinner was undergoing these terrific searchings of heart and conscience that the writer received a pressing invitation to visit him without delay. Believing it to be of the Lord, and also an urgent case, he lost no time in doing so. Having reached the cottage, he took his seat beside the young man, whose sad, sad countenance betrayed his state of mind. Under full conviction of sin and groaning beneath its heavy burden, the thought that ere long he must meet a dying hour all unprepared, had plunged him into the deepest despair; “Dear friend,” said the visitor, “you need not despair of salvation. Such as you are the very persons whom Jesus came ‘to seek and to save;’ and surely you desire to be saved?”
“Yes, I do,” he replied earnestly, his eyes fixed on his visitor’s lips as though to catch and drink in every word.
“Then listen, for ‘to you is the word of this salvation sent.’ From the beginning God has loved poor sinners, and in order that he might show out his love in saving them from the terrible condition into which sin has brought them, and in doing so be consistent with himself as a just and holy God, he in due time delivered up his only begotten Son, the holy and the just one, to be the sinner’s substitute — to take the sinner’s place, to die in the sinner’s stead, that any sinner who as a sinner believes and receives ‘the word of this salvation,’ or, in other words, receives Christ as his all, should not perish, but have everlasting life. O anxious sinner! receive Christ now as your only way of salvation. Be saved now, as tomorrow may be too late.” Adding some further remarks, exhorting him to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, the visitor quoted, —
“Why ‘neath the load of your sins do you toil?
Christ giveth rest — giveth rest.
Why be in slavery, to Satan a spoil?
You may be blest — may be blest.
Christ now invites you his rest to receive,
Heavy’s your burden, but he can relieve,
If but this moment in him you believe,
You shall have rest — shall have rest.’”
He had but just concluded, when a change passed over the features of the dying man, a gleam of joy displaced the look of fixed despair, and he exclaimed with a new-born energy, “I DO BELIEVE IT!” “But do you believe on the Son of God?” asked the visitor, “Yes, I do,” he answered. “Then,” returned the visitor, “if you really believe on the Son of God as your Saviour, and rest in his finished work, you are now a saved person, and will surely go to heaven.” Much more conversation passed, but only to confirm the fact of his being indeed born of God. After praying for him, his visitor left the cottage with a heart overflowing with praise to his gracious Lord, for hang once more shown himself “mighty to save.” Ah! the true gospel of Christ is indeed good news to the sin-burdened soul. “It is the power of God unto salvation to everyone that believeth.” (Rom 1:1616For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ: for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth; to the Jew first, and also to the Greek. (Romans 1:16).) When received by faith, it snaps asunder every fetter, breaks down every barrier, sweeps away every difficulty, bows self to the dust, and launches the soul into perfect and blessed liberty.
Shortly after this, the time came when Henry was to go to his heavenly home. During that night his bodily sufferings were intense, but he murmured not, for the Lord gave him grace to bear on patiently to the end. Before he died, some of his old ungodly acquaintances were admitted into the room, to see the last of him, but he was too far gone to take any notice of them. One of them, however, ignorant of all that had taken place, happened to say, “What will become of him? Would it not be well to send for a minister?” This aroused the dying man. Making a desperate effort, he raised himself up, and looking earnestly on all present, exclaimed with his last breath, “That is all settled. It was all settled long ago,” and his strength then failing him, he suddenly sank back and fell asleep in Jesus.
H.