IT has been often said that “man’s extremity is God’s opportunity,” and perhaps it was never more strikingly illustrated than in the conversion of Lady W― ‘s coachman.
Taken seriously ill, his kind mistress had him removed to one of the London hospitals. Fearing that he was at death’s door, she asked a city missionary to visit him, and told her coachman that he might expect a call from him. The poor sick servant was glad enough of this, for he realized something of his own critical condition. Beside this, he knew that he was not prepared for death, still less for judgment.
It is true he had been warned and entreated before this to think of his precious soul; but all had proved fruitless. He felt it now. More than once God’s Spirit had spoken to him, and once in the pit of a theater, very loudly. While waiting for the rise of the curtain he suddenly recollected that he had a note in his possession not yet read, nor even opened. On taking it from his pocket and opening it, he found it was from a Christian he knew, inviting him that evening to a gospel preaching, and accompanied, in all probability, with some word of loving entreaty also, for the incident seems to have made a strong impression on his mind. He pictured the two scenes—the quiet gospel-preaching-room where he might have been; the theater where he actually was.
All this would no doubt come back with terrible force to his mind now, as the cold hand of death seemed to be stretched out toward him, eternity full in view. Death had, indeed, come near enough already to make him tremble at the consequences of leaving this world in his present state.
Long, oh, how long I seemed the hours as he waited for the promised visit, but no missionary came. Perhaps he had other and more pressing claims upon his time, or the matter had slipped his memory.
However, when his mistress discovered that no one had called, she named the case to a lady visitor in the district.
Then another period of anxious waiting, but with no better result. The poor fellow’s disappointment was only more intensified, for the lady never called. How alarmed he became! Had God left him alone to his idols, left him to die comfortless, because Christless, away from home and friends on that strange hospital bed? Not so, as the reader will presently see.
Once more the lady discovered that no visitor had yet been to the bedside of her apparently dying servant, and so she repaired to a ritualistic clergyman, and no doubt pressed the urgency of her coachman’s case upon him, for shortly afterward this gentleman reached the bedside of the poor sufferer. He seems to have spoken to him kindly and solemnly of his apparent danger, asked several questions, and ended by the inquiry, “Have you been confirmed?”
“Well, no, sir, I have not.”
“Then I am very sorry for you,” responded this so-called spiritual adviser, and shortly afterward took his departure.
He seemed to have no word of hope or comfort for him.
After the clergyman had gone, an agony too deep for words filled the poor coachman’s mind. When he might have listened to the gospel he was at the theater, and now there seemed to be no vestige of hope. The missionary had not come; the lady visitor, for some unknown reason, had failed to reach him; and now the one who had come seemed to wither up all hope because he head not been confirmed by the bishop! Sick and sad at heart, he turned restlessly round upon his pillow to weep, when suddenly a text on the wall of the ward arrested his attention.
It was this: ―
“Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are
heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
(Matt. 11:2828Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. (Matthew 11:28).)
It seemed just as if the blessed Lord Himself had met him face to face with His own gracious welcome; as though He had said, “You have been trusting to broken reeds, and a storm of distress, a flood of disappointment, has been the consequence. COME UNTO ME... I will give you REST.’”
And, blessed be God, he came at once, was welcomed, and found rest. How well able he was now to sing―
“I came to Jesus as I was―
Weary, and worn, and sad;
I found in Him a resting-place,
And He has made me glad.
Bodily healing shortly followed the soul’s salvation, and in the freshness and bloom of restored health he told his own story to the writer.
Has our reader ever made a personal acquaintance with that gracious Saviour, that living Man in the glory of God? Has his need as a guilty offender brought him down, as a penitent at His blessed feet? Oh, remember it is with Christ Himself you must have to do! You must, by faith, personally meet Him now, or personally have to do with Him in judgment hereafter. Which?
Oh that you would come! that you would do so now! He calls you, and He will be as good as His word, He will welcome you. Don’t occupy yourself with the way you should come, but rather with the Person you are coming to. He died for sinners like yourself, and He will not only give you rest about your sins, because He bore sin’s heavy load upon the tree, but He will reveal to your heart the Father’s name. He will fill it with sweetest rest and peace here, and give you to rest where He rests there. “Rise; He calleth thee.”
“Haste! haste! haste!
Tomorrow too late may be!
Oh, wherefore the moments in madness waste,
Since Jesus is calling thee?”