Mr. Hope, the aged pastor in a district in one of the western highlands of the coast of Ireland, whose one object in life was to bring back lost and wandering sheep to the Good Shepherd, was one day making his way along one of the wildest and least frequented parts of his parish. He was praying aloud, as was his habit when he believed himself to be quite alone, and was startled to hear a voice calling his name, "Mr. Hope! Mr. Hope!" He stopped, and looked around. But as there was no one to be seen, and no appearance of any dwelling, he thought he must have been mistaken, and was moving on, when again the voice came ringing out in a tone of urgent entreaty. "Mr. Hope! Mr. Hope!" He now gazed earnestly in the direction from which the voice seemed to come. There was no cabin, no appearance of any human habitation.
Still, at intervals, the voice came again and again, with such pathetic pleading in the tone as Mr. Hope found it impossible to resist. Astonished and startled, he walked towards the place from which the sound came, looking earnestly around in most eager anxiety. No one was to be seen. Nor was there any cabin in sight.
At last, at the side of a great rock he descried a little shed like a pig-sty, built of turf. Much as Mr. Hope had seen of squalor and degradation, he could scarcely believe that this miserable hut could be inhabited by' anything human. Still he made his way to it, stooped his tall form to look in at the low doorway, and then indeed he found the object of his search. There, on a rude pallet, lay a young man, apparently in the last stage of decline. He was wasted almost to a skeleton, while his deep-sunk eyes shone out like stars in the gloom. He welcomed Mr. Hope with upraised hands, and expressions of fervent thankfulness.
"O, thank God, sir, you are come! God only knows how I have longed for this!”
"My poor fellow, what do you know of me? Why do you wish to see me?”
"Sir, I was within hearing one day when you were talking to one of the neighbors, and what you said came home to me here," and he pressed his thin hand upon his heart.
"The sickness was upon me then. It was almost the last day I was able to get about. O sir! how I have longed to see you again, and to hear more! I know you do not often come this way, it is such a wild lonely part; but I prayed to God that you might come some day; and see, sir, I made this hole in the wall, that I might watch for your coming.”
Mr. Hope looked; and there, opposite the wretched bed, was a hole where a few sods of turf had been removed. Through this the eager eyes had watched, day after day, while the long hours dragged their weary length in that lonely hut. O! what joy, when at last his prayer was heard and answered; when at last the venerable form was seen in the distance! And O, in what trembling eagerness did his heart go out in the cry which was to call the pastor to his side!
"Thank God, sir, you are come at last! O! sir! I want to hear more from you about the Savior of sinners.”
Bending his snow-white head, Mr. Hope made his way into the lowly hut, and knelt beside the dying man. Never through all the years of his ministry had he felt more deeply moved than at this strange and affecting scene. From a full heart, and "simply, as to a little child," the aged pastor told the story of redeeming love; and his words fell upon the listener's ears like rain upon the thirsty ground. Only, the very simplicity of the gospel seemed at first to stagger his perplexed and benighted mind.
"Sure 'tis I that would believe and trust with all my heart," he said; "only I am afraid it is all too good to be true! That may be all for you, and good Christians like you. But how would the likes of a poor sinner like myself ever be fit to go into heaven?”
And then the aged minister poured forth his heart in prayer, that, through the Holy Spirit, God would teach this yearning, anxious soul, bring this weary sinner to the Savior, and grant him the peace which passeth all understanding.
And now every day while the sufferer lingered upon earth the venerable pastor might be seen wending his way to the lonely hut amid the rocks. He chose the time when the invalid was sure to be alone, the rest of the family being away at their work; and he was never interfered with or molested. Every little comfort that his slender means afforded, he took to the poor dying man. But what was that compared with his ministry to the sin-sick soul? Day by day did the faithful pastor tell of the great love of God in giving His beloved Son to die on Calvary's cross, and became the sin-offering for such sinners as he, to this famishing soul eager to receive it. Day by day some "refuge of lies" which perplexed his mind was swept away, through the unerring Word of God.
The poor sufferer found that all his wants were met in Christ, the "one Mediator between God and men,”
"The Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world,”
"The Good Shepherd," the tender, sympathizing Savior. The love of God in Christ dawned upon his soul, filling him with joy and peace in believing. Jesus became to him unspeakably precious, and perfect love triumphed over fear.
Then, in mercy, the panting spirit was released from its frail prison, and, from that abject hut in the rocky desert, passed away to enter the untold blessedness of the paradise of God.
Dear reader, think over this strange but true story, and let it convey to you its own lesson. Are you as earnest in seeking salvation as was this poor young man, whose name is written in heaven, though unknown upon earth? Think of his difficulties, and how he overcame them. Contrast them with your own privileges, and ask yourself, "How shall I escape, if I neglect so great salvation?”
And what Christian would not seek to share the happy, glorious privilege of the faithful pastor, in thus proclaiming "liberty to the captive, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound?”
To those like Mr. Hope, who go through life praying, many such opportunities will offer, many such cries for help will come. Truly did he go on his way rejoicing, fulfilling Psa. 126:66He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him. (Psalm 126:6), "He that goeth forth... bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.”