IN the January number of our Magazine, there is recorded a story of God’s grace towards a dying young sailor, one who had tried nearly all the world’s deceitful pleasures, and found them, as every honest heart does, vanity and vexation of spirit. The exceeding riches of God’s grace drew from his heart the cry, “I long to be reconciled to God.” And God abundantly sheaved him the joy of being in holy friendship with Himself.
Truly, “If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature!” God can make a heart of stone warm with His love, so that it yearns over souls that do not know the living One who makes a couch of intense suffering, a downy pillow smoothed and upheld by His everlasting arms. Taught of God, he, naturally a reserved, quiet man, became one of His evangelists, proclaiming with broken, dying accents the gospel of peace. Do you mark it, anxious soul? God has for you but one message, “Peace, peace through Jesus Christ.” This was the glad tidings of good things which his own soul was tasting.
The words of their dying brother touched the hearts of his sisters—kind and thoughtful in the sick room, but strangers to God. He longed for their salvation, and called them to him, taking their hands and looking up into their faces, repeated with tenderest entreaties, “God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on Him should not perish, but hath everlasting life” It made one realize what wondrous gift of God is “everlasting life.” He would hardly cease begging them to accept Christ; “Oh, if they only knew His love, they could not stay away,” he would say “I never knew it was such joy, such wonderful love. Oh, S.” (naming his sister,) “come to Him, my child. He will make you so light He has made me so light. If you only ask Him He will make your work, everything, light I used to think a Christian’s was a dull life but I did not know His love, it is such joy.”
His sufferings towards the end were agonizing, and sometimes through extreme weakness his mind wandered a little; bus even then his one theme was Jesus. One night he seemed to be sinking, and his voice was all but gone. He had not strength to keep his eyes open, and yet almost every breath was an entreaty to his sisters to truss Jesus. His struggle to utter the broker words distressed them greatly, and they begged him to desist, telling him he would hurt himself; but he only answered, “I cannot be quiet. I must tell you of Jesus. That is why God is leaving me here;” and again from the depths of his soul he would say, “God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son.”
He loved to have God’s people near him. A Christian, who was privileged to watch the progress of God’s grace in him, came to see him after a few day’s absence, during which he had become rapidly worse. He welcomed her with tears of gladness, saying, “Oh do not go away again. I want someone to tell me about the Lord. I had such a wretched night last night. Oh, it was so long, with nobody to tell me about Him.” And a month before, that saving Name had been nothing to his cold, dead heart!
Often the salt tears would fall as he thought of his wasted life, and he would say, “Oh, if I had only known His love before, I should have been a better man.” Reader, may you never know the bitterness of grieving over fresh young days spent for Satan in the world!
When he could take a little nourishment and his friends were glad to see it, he would say, “I do not want to take it; it only keeps me here longer, and I long to go. I want to see His face. Oh, I do not think I ever had such a longing for anything as this!”
A few more weeks of patient suffering during which he had the joy of knowing ow sister at least shared with him God’s salvation, and he was sweetly laid asleep by Jesus saying with almost his last accents, “Oh, that beautiful face!”
His longing is satisfied now. He rests it the Lord’s presence till the morning without clouds breaks. May his dying entreaties echo in the hearts and memories of the many he tried to win to this gracious Saviour who “receiveth sinners.”
A. D. C.