IT was one Tuesday evening in the Spring of 1874, that dear J. M., whose words stand at the head of this paper, was first awakened by the grace of God to a deep sense of his need of a Saviour.
God had been working, in His infinite mercy, at the little town of R—, and opening the eyes of many dear young people, and bringing them to a saving knowledge of Himself. It was on one of these eventful occasions when dear J., whose elder brother had prayed for his conversion only a few days before in a boys' prayer meeting, was led by the Spirit of God to see himself as God saw him—lost, ruined, guilty and undone.
The meeting was over. Many, careless and indifferent to the call of God, had left the room as they entered it; but others, awakened from that fatal sleep into which, alas! Satan lulls so many, were too anxious about their souls to go home unsaved, and among these was little J., at that time a boy of only eleven years of age. His beloved parents, who had long known the Lord, yearned over the dear lad, God having saved the elder brother but a short time before, and their silent prayers were going up to the throne of God for their child, when the preacher addressed himself to dear J.
It was a moment never to be forgotten. Standing apart from all, near a corner of the room, the big tears rolled fast and thick down the dear lad's cheeks, for God Himself had touched that young heart, and made him feel the burden of his guilt as he had never done before.
The preacher told him lovingly of Jesus, the Son of God, and of the ransom-price that He had paid (even His own precious blood) for the sinner's redemption; but as he spoke the poor convicted one could only find expression for his agony of soul in these sad, yet never to be forgotten words, "Oh! my sins 1 Oh I my sins!”
Comfort there was none at such a time, for the heart was learning its own utter wretchedness and ruin, and the word spoken had gone home in deeply convicting power. The more the preacher pleaded with dear J., so much the more clearly did the Spirit of God show him what he was, and again and again those self-condemning words rang through the preaching room, "Oh! my sins! Oh! my sins!”
Already was the elder brother's prayer for the salvation of little J. being answered, and as the father's and mother's rose silently up to the throne of God, mingled with those bitter sobs and full confession of their dear boy's sins, He who hears and answers too sent down from those realms of glory, yea, from His own heart, the sweet and blessed message of peace and forgiveness.
There was joy in the presence of the angels as little J. drank in the precious message, "God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life." (John 3:16.) JOHN 3:16 He rested on the word of God, and in childlike faith set to his seal that God is true by simply believing that "the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth from all sin." (1 John 1:7.) 1JOHN 1:7
Two years rolled away, during which time the work of God became more and more manifest in the heart and conscience of dear J., together with earnest longings for the salvation of another brother, a tittle older than himself. The following extract from a letter written just at this time (June 1876), shows this in touching terms—"It has been try constant prayer for a long time that he (G.) should be brought to the Lord, and I feel quite sure that He will not be long in answering my prayer. Oh! how I long for him to be saved! Oh I how I shall rejoice when he is brought to the Lord, when he can say, ' Jesus, Thou art enough,' and, ' I have nothing now to fear.' Dear Sir, how blessed to know that the dear Lord Jesus has said in His word, ' Behold, I come quickly,' and again, 'I go to prepare a place for you, and if I go to prepare a place for you I will come again and receive you unto myself, that where I am there ye may be also.' Is not this enough to cheer the heart of a poor weak Christian? and to think that we shall be like Him, and that our vile bodies shall be changed like unto His glorious body! Is not this a glorious thought?”
In July of the following year, dear J. earnestly longed to fulfill the loving desire of the Lord's heart, and to remember Him at His own table by showing forth His death until He come. Writing upon the subject to his father, he says, “It has been my desire for a few weeks past to be at the Lord's table. In reading my Bible, I find the Lord says to His disciples, Do this in remembrance of Me, and, As oft as ye do it ye do show forth my death till I come; and if Jesus died for me, I think I ought to obey His command in doing so. It is a very simple, but still a very solemn thing to be present at His table, and I have many times asked the Lord to show me His will about it, and that my walk and conversation may be according to what I profess.”
Thus did the Lord graciously lead him on step by step in the path of righteousness for His name's sake, and as time rolled on used him too in many little ways for blessing to others. Once, while laid aside in a hospital, dear J. was privileged to testify for Christ, and a poor sailor was brought to know the saving power and efficacy of the precious blood of Jesus.
His short stay on earth, however, was gradually drawing to its close, and in the early part of 1882 he took a severe chill which so laid hold of a naturally delicate constitution that he gradually succumbed, and on the 20th of June the writer was called to his bedside to take, as it proved, his last farewell. Sweet was it to gaze on that pale but happy face, radiant as it was with heaven's own glory, so calm, so peaceful, for though death was so near, it shone like the face of an angel. A few loving words of joyful remembrance as to the past, and bright thoughts as to the future, and then after a brief interval of prayer, came the last adieu. "Well, dear J.," said the writer, ere leaving that death chamber, "I am going to speak to some Sunday-school children next Sunday at—. May I take them any message from one who is soon going home?”
“Yes," said he, his face lighting up with heavenly joy, though his voice was weak, "tell them I'm resting on the blood.”
Thus in life, as in death, he proved the value of the blood; and while his first words in the preaching room still seem to ring in my ears, yet do the last tell their own tale of peace with God: "Tell them I’m resting on the blood.”
Reader, are you too, resting on the blood of Christ?
S. T.
It is to be distinctly understood that nothing but "the precious blood of Christ" could ever put away sins. "Without shedding of blood is no remission." Nor let it be forgotten that a sinner passes under the shelter of that blood, and comes within reach of its cleansing power, by simple FAITH alone. There must be no confusion here. FAITH in the blood of Christ is distinct from frames and feelings, and from the worthless imaginings of the human mind. It has no connection with dreams or visions of a Saviour hanging on the cross, so foolishly longed for by so many. That soul has it who sincerely believes what scripture says about THE BLOOD, and rests on its eternal efficacy. The blood of Jesus, which "speaketh better things than that of Abel," has spoken in the presence of the thrice-holy God. The requirements of His holy throne have all been met by that blood; and so infinitely precious is it in God's view, that He can righteously justify even the chief of sinners.
“What news is this for man to hear?
Though sinful, yet may man draw near
To God, the righteous God.
The obstacles heaped up before,
To bar the way, are now no more,
Since Jesus shed His blood.”