THE writer was distributing gospel literature in a barrack-room at G― this month. A bright young soldier, who may now be in the fighting line, accepted the proffered red-covered Gospel and asked me: “What do you think of atheism?” I replied, “It smells smoky.” He did not quite grasp the meaning of my answer. I repeated the words, “It smells of smoke — the breath of his satanic majesty.” (That is an expression that men-of-war sailors used when speaking of anything satanic, a generation or two ago).
He told me much of what he had been taught by a professed infidel. I pointed to the Scripture in the Epistle to the Eph. 2:12,12That at that time ye were without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers from the covenants of promise, having no hope, and without God in the world: (Ephesians 2:12) and showed him how it puts us all down as atheists — being Gentiles — and without God in the world. This is just our state b) nature. He listened, and I told him that but for the boundless mercy of God I would still be (atheist) without God, and what is more, I did not desire to know Him, and when Christians spoke to me of religion I spurned them, and to be told that I was a sinner gave me great offense. There came a day, however, when the Word of God reached my conscience and convinced me of sin (Rom. 3:22, 2322Even the righteousness of God which is by faith of Jesus Christ unto all and upon all them that believe: for there is no difference: 23For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God; (Romans 3:22‑23)),
“For there is no difference, for all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.”
“But God, who is rich in mercy, for His great love wherewith He loved me, even when I was dead in sins.”
I quoted also Romans 5:6-8:
“Christ died for the ungodly,” and, “God commendeth His love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”
Then I appealed to him: “My young friend, take your place as guilty before God, and He will justify you if you believe in Jesus, and these precious words will be precious to you.”
By this time the others in the barrack-room were listening and looking attentively. The young fellow still persisted in arguing. I said, “I will answer you by telling you of a man I knew and who was in the same working department with me for more than twenty years. He was a fine fellow in every way, but — but he was not only a hater of God, but hated those that loved God. He was educated at Christ Church School, Newgate (now removed to Horsham in Sussex). He would talk of anything, any subject, but when one spoke of Christ or Christianity he would manifest intense hatred.” As all seemed interested, I continued: “I will mention two instances where he boasted of this hatred to me. One morning he came to business full of it, and blurted out, ‘I lugged her out of it!’ I asked for an explanation. ‘I went and dragged my wife out of chapel last night.’ ‘A poor thing to boast about,’ said I. Instance 2: He would not allow his son to come under his roof. A young man to be proud of, full six feet tall, and his wife also was refused admittance. Why? Because they were both converted, and living as Christians. To what extent can man’s hatred towards God go!
“In course of time his health broke down. He had saved a little money, and he went to Brighton to eke it out, thinking it would last him his life, but the money became exhausted first, and he returned to London. I had lost touch with him for a considerable time, not knowing his whereabouts. One morning one of the workmen called me and said, ‘Who do you think I saw in St. Thomas’s Hospital yesterday?’ When he mentioned the name I was astonished. Next Sunday I went to the hospital and saw him, quite emaciated, propped up in bed. I said to him, ‘Sam, my boy, you are on the last lap.’ ‘Yes,’ said he,’ ‘I am.’ I was about to speak about eternal things, when to my astonishment he asked me to read the hymn, ‘Abide with me.’ I was taken aback, as sailors say, for a few seconds, and said, ‘I will try.’ I began, and on reaching the lines:
‘When other helpers fail, and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me,’
I paused, and said to him, ‘Sam, how suitable are these words to your case.’ I proceeded to read, but with broken voice, and looking round saw all within hearing with tears in their eyes. It was an affecting scene. I said to him before leaving, ‘My burden is gone; I came thinking to plead with you to come to Christ, but God has done that.’ ‘Yes,’ he said. Another dear old Christian friend that knew him well was present, and was glad to see the change. The next Sunday I went to see him; he could only gasp out his words, but he was very happy. The following week he had passed away to be with Christ. Truly a brand plucked from the burning.” J. P. C.