We soon found ourselves in a canal-boat where were about thirty passengers of various ages and characters; and my curiosity was not a little excited to learn how my companion would proceed among them. The afternoon had nearly passed away, and he had conversed with no one but myself. At length he inquired of the captain if he were willing to have prayers on board.
“I have no objection,’ said he, “if the passengers have not: but I sha’n’t attend.”
At an early hour the passengers were invited into the cabin, and in a few minutes the captain was seated among them. After reading a short portion of Scripture our friend made a few appropriate remarks and earnestly commended us to God.
As soon as we rose from prayer, a gentleman whose head was whitening for the grave said, “Sir, I should like to converse with you. I profess to be a Deist. I once professed religion, but now I believe it is all delusion.”
“Sir,” said the young man, “I respect age and will listen to you; and as you proceed, may perhaps ask a few questions; but I cannot debate; I can only say that I must love Jesus Christ. He died to save me and I am a great sinner.”
“I do not deny that men are sinners,” said the old man, “but I don’t believe in Christ.”
“Will you then tell us how sinners can be saved in some other way, and God’s law be honored?”
We waited in vain for a reply, when my friend proceeded: “Not many years since I was an infidel, because I did not love the truth and was unwilling to examine it. Now I see my error; and the more I study the Bible, the firmer is my conviction of its truth, and that there is no way of salvation but through a crucified Redeemer.”
As the passengers sat engaged in conversation, one of them related the circumstances of a murder recently perpetrated by a man in the neighborhood while in a fit of intoxication. To this all paid the strictest attention. The captain joined them to hear the story, the conclusion of which afforded an opportunity for the stranger to begin his work. He was the fearless advocate of temperance as well as religion, and here gained some friends to this cause.
“But,” said he at length, “though alcohol occasions an immense amount of crime and misery in our world. I recollect one instance of murder with which it had no connection.” He then related as nearly as I can remember the following story: “In a populous city at the East was a man who seemed to live only for the good of others. He daily exhibited the most perfect benevolence towards his fellow men: sought out the poor and needy and relieved their wants; sympathized with and comforted the sick and the afflicted: and though he was rich, his unsparing beneficence reduced him to poverty. He deserved the esteem of all, yet he had enemies. He took no part in politics, yet many feared that his generosity was a cloak of ambition, and that he was making friends in order to secure to himself the reins of government. Others feared that his religious sentiments, connected with his consistent life, would expose their hypocrisy. At length a mock trial was held by an infuriated mob, and he was condemned and put to death.”
“Where was that?” “When was it?” “Who was it?” was heard from several voices.
“It was in the city of Jerusalem, and the person was none other than the Lord Jesus Christ, By His enemies He was hung upon the cross, and for us guilty sinners He died.”
Every eye was fixed upon the young man and a solemn awe rested on every countenance. He opened a Bible which lay upon the table and read the account of Christ’s condemnation and death; the captain nodded to him a signal for prayer, and we all again fell on our knees, while he wept over the condition of sinners, and, for the sake of Christ, besought God’s mercy upon them. Here again was a floating Bethel.
In the morning the stranger was not forgotten, and he evidently did not forget that there were immortal souls around him, hastening with him to the bar of God. During the day he conversed separately with each individual, except an elderly gentleman who had followed him from seat to seat and showed much uneasiness of mind; the realities of eternity were set before us, and the Holy Spirit seemed to be striving with many.
Towards evening our friend requested an interview with the aged man.
“Yes, yes,” said he, “I have been wishing all day to see you, but you were talking with others.”
He acknowledged that he had tried to be a Universalist; and though he could not rest in that belief, he never, until the previous evening, saw his lost condition. “And now,” said he, “I want you to tell me what I shall do.”
The young man raised his eyes to heaven, as if asking for the Lord’s guidance, and then briefly explained the nature and reasonableness of repentance and faith, accompanied by a few striking illustrations in proof of the justice of God in condemning and His mercy in pardoning sinners.
The old man saw the plan of redemption so clearly that he burst into tears, and exclaimed, “O my soul, my soul! How have I sinned against God! I see it – I feel it; yes I have sinned all my days!”
“But Jesus died to save sinners,” replied the young man. “Will you, my friend, give Him your heart?”
“O yes, yes, if I had a thousand hearts He should have them all,” was the answer.
The young man turned away and wept. For some minutes silence was broken only by the deep sighs of the aged penitent. There was something, in an hour like this, awfully solemn. Heaven was rejoicing, I doubt not, over a returning prodigal. As he stood alone and wept, he reiterated again and again, “Yes, I will serve God, I will, I will.” After a time his feelings became more calm, and lifting his eyes towards heaven, with both hands raised he broke out in singing,
“There shall I bathe my weary soul
In seas of heavenly rest,
And not a wave of trouble roll
Across my peaceful breast.”
And then again he wept, and said,
“Yes, O Jesus, precious Savior!”
The time had come for our young friend to leave us. By his zeal in his Master’s service he had stolen our hearts, and all pressed forward to express their friendship in an affectionate farewell.
Such was the influence of one individual whose unwavering purpose it was to live for God. He felt for dying sinners, and relying on the guidance of the Holy Spirit for success, labored for the salvation of souls around him. Will not the reader solemnly resolve, in God’s strength, that henceforth, whether at home or abroad, he will make the glory of Christ, in the salvation of men, the object of his life?
(Continued from page 177).