IN the year 1862 a tall, handsome young mar rode over to arrange about a cricket metal about to be played in this neighborhood. He put up his horse, and as we walked along to gather through the fields, he cleared one of two railings in a way which marked unusual physical strength and activity. He was a good cricketer, and fond of being a leader among other young men in games which required skit and agility.
As we strolled along, I took the opportunity of speaking to him about his soul, and was rejoiced to find that he was by no means inattentive to eternity. I found that he was trusting to Jesus for his salvation. He told me how his mother had often pressed the blood bought salvation on him, and I thought he had by faith availed himself of it; but when I asked him, Was he saved? he did not seem to know. He assured me that he was trusting to Jesus and His death, and that he knew he was a sinner; and I then showed him out of Scripture that if this were the case, he was saved from condemnation; for “whosoever heareth my words,” said Jesus, “and believeth on Him that sent me shall not come into condemnation;” and “he that believeth on me hath everlasting life.” He seemed to see his position as a child somewhat cleared, and soon after we parted, and he rode home.
No one can succeed in walking as a child, until they are first assured of the fact, hence the necessity of your knowing assuredly, O reader, whether or not you are a child of God.
I have a letter here in which his mother writes to me in October, 1863: “My darling Willie was seized with diphtheria. Strange to say, he appeared to think from the commencement of the disease he would not recover; but in answer to a Christian physician who mentioned the uncertainly of life, he expressed the assured hope which he enjoyed through the Saviour ‘So sure! so sure!’ he added, and then unable to speak much, he opened his Bible at the 15th of Corinthians for his dear mother to read, and seemed to drink in each word as addressed to him. On Friday evening he grew rapidly worse, and towards morning he sent for his brother George, and said to him, “Oh, George, what would I do now, that I am on my dying bed, if I had not Jesus? What would you do if you were now here, if you had not Jesus? If ever you wish to see me again, come to Jesus, come now, don’t put it off, and remember the last words of your dying brother, Meet him in heaven. It is so simple―just simple faith.” Then turning to his mother he said, “Mother, darling, don’t fret, I know you won’t, for your wish is fulfilled; you always wished me to be Christ’s and now your wish is about to be fulfilled.” He began to sink, but recovering a little, his mother asked him how he felt? “I felt very near the glory, very near the glory. I am now nearly over the valley―caught up, caught up―oh, so sure! so sure! ―come, Lord Jesus, come quickly,” were on his lips; and on Saturday he thus passed away from the arms of his earthly parents into those of his heavenly Father, aged eighteen years and seven months―a young man in the prime of life.
“What is your life? It is even a vapor that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.” “He that believeth on the Son hath EVERLASTING life.”
I little thought, when last we met,
Thy sun on earth was nearly set,
I said, what I can ne’er forget,
Dear boy, we’ll meet again.
The Lord’s day sun rose bright and clear,
When thine was setting on us here,
To shine more bright in yonder sphere.
Farewell, we’ll meet again.
I stood beside thy silent bed,
Thy marble brow was cold and dead,
Thy gentle soul was fled―was fled.
Dear boy, we’ll meet again.
I saw thee in thy narrow rest,
The clods upon thy coffin pressed,
The clouds dropped tears, yet in my breast
God said, We’ll meet again.
The precious dust beneath that lies,
Shall at the voice of Jesus rise,
To meet the Bridegroom in the skies,
That day, we’ll meet again.