ONE bitterly cold January evening I observed a man standing in a corner of the street, sheltering himself from the biting wind and sleet. I knew him by sight to be a respectable vendor of small wares, I had passed on, but seemed impelled to turn back and speak to him, begging him to come that night to our little mission room. I cannot say that the invitation was graciously accepted; however, at last he consented to come, with the observation, that it would be better than standing about in the wet.
A young man addressed the audience, and said that he had come into the very same room about two months before, a scoffer, and quite regardless of eternity. But God had spoken to his soul on that occasion, and had showed him his need of a Saviour, and, added he, “I am now rejoicing in Him.” Then, with the love of Christ flooding his soul and filling him with peace and joy unspeakable, he told the audience of that wondrous love to perishing men.
The power of the Spirit of God was manifested as he spoke; the prayers of months were answered, for many were deeply convicted of sin, and strong men were weighed down under the sense of their need, and of their lost state before God. Amongst the latter was the man who had merely chosen to enter the room in preference to standing about in the wet. He had spent the greater part of his life in the navy, and had been in numbers of scenes of active service; he had faced many dangers, and death itself in some of its most terrible forms. Latterly he had been discharged, disabled by the loss of an arm; yet, through all his marvelous deliverances and hair-breadth escapes, he had never once thought of the goodness or the love of God. But on hearing the young man speak of his own salvation, the sailor’s heart was touched, and melted by the sense of the mercy and long-suffering of the Lord to him. He had come to the meeting full of rebellious thoughts, angry with his lot, and feeling that God had dealt badly with him, but now the amazing love of God to him in Christ, filled his heart. He blessed God for preserving him through so many dangers, and for leading him at length to think of His only begotten Son, whom He had sent to die to save sinners.
He saw at once his great need, and his place as a sinner, guilty before God, and he was received by the sinners’ Saviour, who says, “Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.”
In his future course much grace was given him to confess Christ before his ungodly companions; and his testimony may be thus given—they “took knowledge that he had been with Jesus.”
Reader, perhaps you may not think yourself half so bad as this poor old sailor, but you need the Saviour, even as he; for all have sinned, and Christ came to save the lost. Have you classed yourself among the lost? If not, there is no Saviour for you until you take your true place as guilty before God.
K. R.