I WAS walking along a road near Tottenham one afternoon, and came across a group of navvies just leaving their work. We got into conversation, and I put the question, "Where do you think you'll go when you die?" There was a pause, and all but one “sloped off." He was physically a fine specimen of a man, but trouble and discontent marked his features. He came close up to me, and said,
“I should like to know the answer to that, sir."
"Do you know that Jesus came into the world to save sinners?" I asked.
“Well, I suppose that is true," he responded, “but I can't feel it proper like."
"Are you a sinner?”
“That’s just it, sir. I am, as all my mates know, a downright bad one. I do feel that, sir."
"Jesus Christ felt your sins and my sins on the cross far more than you or I can ever feel our own 'badness was my response, and; whether we feel miserable or happy, the truth which Jesus Himself declared remains ever the same: 'I, if I be lifted up (speaking of His death) from the earth, will draw all men unto Me' And again The Son of Man must be lifted up, that Whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have eternal life.' You are a whosoever,' “I said, "for it means everyone, and He did not say, whosoever feeleth,' but whosoever believeth,' trusteth in the Go. Man who died for sinners, and is now the glorified Man living in heaven. Trust in Him, and you shall never perish, but shall be saved from eternal judgment' and the vengeance of eternal fire,' and you shall possess eternal life."
He answered earnestly, whilst a tear glistened in his eye, “I do wish, sir, I could feel that way."
“Well," I said, "whether you feel it or no, God is true, and so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.' "
He looked so happy, so relieved, that I could not but feel sure that God had done His work through His word, however I may have spoilt it by my faulty and stupid way of putting it. We parted with such a hearty good-bye, that I thanked God I had spoken to him.
Ten months after this I was walking in a lane in Hertfordshire with an eminent barrister, no less distinguished in his profession for acumen and learning, than he was in the religious world for orthodoxy and piety; he was, however, afraid to feel quite sure, or that he was quite safe for ever, and thought it somewhat presumptuous to be so; yet, with his knowledge of the Bible, he was plainly not quite satisfied with this uncertainty. This was the topic of our conversation:
"I cannot but think," he said," there is much in the Bible in favor of what you urge as to being quite sure. You ought to be able to give me, from your own experience, some instance of this sudden conversion, from anxiety and darkness to happy assurance, and of the permanent results. Can you?" he added, searching me with his eye, as one accustomed to weigh evidence.
For a moment I was at a loss. Many instances flashed across my memory, but as often the recollection of some failure or defect deterred me from giving one as a test case. Suddenly I looked up, and some way down the lane I saw the identical navvy I had spoken to, jump from a field and walk towards us. I felt this was no coincidence, and drew his attention at once to the man, who was slowly advancing, and narrated as accurately and briefly as I could what I have above recorded. I must confess I felt a little nervous, that after all the work might have been superficial and transitory, but as he drew near he looked so bright and clean that I was reassured. I called out to him—
“Do you remember me, my man?”
“Can’t say I do, sir," was the answer.
“Do you remember a gentleman speaking to you on the road near Tottenham nearly a year ago?”
That I do, sir. I remember you now, and what you said. I have been happier and better in body and pocket ever since. I've got it, sir," said he, striking his many-buttoned big waistcoat a great blow with his fist. “I’ve got it in here, sir—that internal life you spoke of."
“Internal life!” said I. “Why, it was eternal life I spoke of."
“So it is, sir, but for all that I have it in here, and I rest all upon Jesus Christ, who died for me."
“Has it changed your life at all?” I asked.
“Indeed it has, sir. I haven't touched a drop of beer ever since, and I am going home to my old woman with this," said he, pulling out a bag of money from his breeches pocket. “And this is what helps me," he said, pulling out from the other pocket a well-worn. Bible; "but for all that I never felt I was so bad as I do now, but still I am happy, and God bless you for telling me of Jesus."
His happy, frank, earnest countenance was too convincing. It was an answer to all the questionings of the acute, reasoning, legal mind, and, as he said afterwards, it was clear that this man rested his happiness not on any imparted holiness to his body or his soul, for he still sorrowfully owned how bad his heart was, nor was it on his feelings that he relied. No; it must have been that his spirit was born from above, renewed by God's Spirit. The eternal life, the gift of God, was clearly his, and was to him internal. “He that hath the Son hath life “was his present possession and his future comfort. We bid him farewell, and a hearty parting it was—there was no mistake about it.
We walked on a long time in silence, my learned companion plainly much touched, and we spent a happy evening talking it over and thinking of God's love in Christ.
A. H.