The Girl who Came to be Saved.
I was preaching in the year 1881, 50 years ago, in the Assembly Room, Fore Street, Exeter. One beautiful summer Sunday evening in July a young girl came to the service. She was very ill, and was helped upstairs to the Hall by her mother and sister, who accompanied her. She had been ill for five years, and it was apparent to all who knew her that she could not live long. She had heard of our services, and had expressed a great desire to be taken to one of them. So on this Sunday evening she sat between her mother and sister just inside the door.
The preaching that evening was about the cleansing of the leper in Israel. At the close of the service the hymn was sung,
Hark! the voice of Jesus calling —
Come ye weary, come to ME;
I have rest and peace to offer —
Rest, thou burdened one, for thee.
Take salvation,
Take it NOW and happy be.
When the hymn was done, and the last prayer over, she turned to her mother and sister and said, “I am saved.” There and then she took salvation as it was offered her. They helped her home, and when she arrived there she knelt down upon the kitchen floor and thanked God for her conversion, and prayed earnestly for all the rest. With tears of joy in her eyes she invited them all to come to Jesus.
It was the first and only time that she came to the preaching, but God was in it all, He prepared her for the word, and He prepared the word for her, and she was saved.
It was not until the following October that I heard about her conversion, and then I went to see her. Never shall I forget the happy hours I spent with her from time to time until she passed away to be with Christ the following February.
She had never any doubts about her salvation; her Bible was very, very dear to her, as the thumb-marked pages showed... As long as she could, she would kneel by the bed and pray, but when her legs became so swollen that this was impossible, she would lay her, head on the pillow and so spend hours in prayer. Often she would exclaim:
“O, Mr. Wreford, I only wish I could tell you how precious Jesus is to me!” And on her face such a lovely light was shining — she seemed to live in heaven — at any rate heaven dwelt in her. She said to me one day, “The devil tells me I shall be frightened when it comes to the end, but no, He’ll never, NEVER, never leave me nor forsake me.” And again she would say, “I wish I could tell you how happy I am, PRECIOUS, precious Jesus.”
Towards the end of her happy life here she became more and more anxious about the conversion of those around her. She wrote the following letter to her father, which he received after she was gone; she was so anxious to have it posted before she died,
This is the letter: —
Mr. DEAR FATHER, I have been going to write to you for a long time, but I have kept putting it off from time to time, but now I feel I am getting much worse, and I don’t think I shall be very long here. But I am going to be with Jesus, and I want you to meet me in heaven. Dear father, the Lord Jesus says, “Him that cometh unto Me, I will in no wise cast out.” Take Jesus at His word, the One who cannot lie. Dear father, the longest life here is short compared with eternity. My dear father, will you think of it? We are none of us too bad for Jesus; the vilest sinner He came to save. The dear Lord says in His word, “Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.”
My dear father, I should like to have seen you once more, and wished you “good-bye,” but if it cannot be, I hope you will meet me in heaven; there we shall meet to part no more. I have suffered great pain here, but there will be no pain there.
Sometimes I murmur and complain, but I am trying to say, “Thy will be done,” my Jesus will help me if I trust Him, for He says, “I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee,” and He will be with me to the end, and the end will be very soon, for I am feeling so tired and weary. And now I must say “Good-bye,” trusting to meet you in heaven. Dear father, you will meet me there. I am not afraid, for Jesus will be with me. At first I thought I should be afraid; then I was looking at my poor self, which is nothing but sin; but when I look away to Jesus all is well.
Once more, dear father, “Good-bye,” no more to meet on earth, but do meet me in heaven.
Your loving daughter,
Polly.
Her brother George came to see her. She took his strong hand in her wasted ones, and said, looking up into his face, “What a pity, dear George, that I feel too weak to speak to you of Jesus now.”
Looking upwards, she said, “Dear Lord Jesus, give me a word to speak to my dear brother before I die.”
Then in direct appeal to him she said, “George, I’m going home, I’m going to be with Jesus; will you follow? “He could not speak for tears. She still held his hand and continued,” Don’t put it off until your deathbed. If I had I might never have found Christ.” After a pause she repeated softly,
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.
Then she said, “It’s nothing but the blood of Jesus; I’m trusting to nothing but the blood of Jesus. Sing!” she cried to all, “sing, ‘Nothing but the blood of Jesus.’” She then asked them all to meet her in heaven.
She came downstairs for the last time on Sunday afternoon, February 18th. The sun was shining beautifully as she sat at table with the rest, and said, “This is the last time I shall sit here.”
I saw her on the following day. She was almost unconscious. They told her I was there, and her eyes opened with a glad smile of welcome. How full of heaven they looked! I took her hand, and said, “You love Jesus, don’t you?” She whispered, “Precious Jesus! I am happy, happy!” “You are going to be with, Jesus?” I said. “Yes, oh, yes! He will never leave me nor forsake me.”
In a very feeble voice she continued, “I wish I could talk and tell you how happy I am.”
“You will be in heaven before we shall.” “Yes.”
“But we shall soon follow you.” “Yes,” she replied, “I am praying for them all. Precious Jesus! I am so happy. Read to me.”
I opened my Bible and read the end of the eighth of Romans, and while the sunlight from without fell upon her where she lay, I read in the Revelation, chapter 21 and 22. She clasped her hands as I read of the “holy city, New Jerusalem,” of God being with His people, and being their God; of the throne of God and of the Lamb, and the glorious promise, “and they shall see His face, and His name shall be in their foreheads.” Then, as the golden beams trembled on the bed, and shone around the departing one, I read, “And there shall be no night there; and they need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light; and they shall reign forever and ever.
On Tuesday, February 20th the day she passed away, I called to see her in the afternoon. She asked them to sit her up. Her sister said, “Is Jesus with you, Polly?” She whispered, “Yes, Jesus.” She wished to remember the Lord in His death before she passed into His presence, and very solemn and sweet it was to see her face as she took the, bread and wine, and clasped her hands in prayer and praise. And then with the name of Jesus constantly upon her lips she lay, and waited for the summons to call her home.
For hours she lay unconscious, breathing heavily; and thus the day wore on. At half-past five the eyes that had been fixed and glassy for hours once more beamed with intelligence. The troubled waters of life were past now, she was anchored in the haven, and was just stepping from her frail bark of time on to the shores of eternity. With one sweet glance of love and recognition to those around her, and with lips moving in the last “Good-bye,” she passed into the presence of angels and saints redeemed to be with Christ. The sun shone out with golden radiance, as the messenger came to take her home, and one who stood and watched said, “It seemed as if the sky were filled with angels when she died.”
As I gazed upon the cold unconscious clay I could but thank the Lord for such a life and such a death. I said, “She has led the way for you all, I trust, to heaven. The first in heaven; you will all follow her, will you not?”
The sister answered, speaking as it were to the peaceful dead, “Yes, Polly, we will follow you; we will come to Jesus, you made us promise.”
Thus with tears the promise made to the living was renewed by all. I said, “Let us pray,” and we knelt around the dead.
“Oh, we do not doubt,” one said, just before we left the room; “we know she is in heaven.”
Yes, by their fruits ye shall know them.
Reader, if it were thine to die tonight, where would tomorrow find thee? I remember, in closing this narrative, a remark of the sister, “Oh!” she said, “how fearful it would be if after all her sufferings here she should have had to suffer hereafter!” Fearful! Oh! my God! let everyone who reads this turn AT ONCE to Christ. Yes, sinner, turn AT ONCE to Christ.
H. W.