Several years ago a murder was committed, and a man named George Groves was arrested on suspicion of being the chief actor in the bloody tragedy. For this offense he was tried, convicted, and sentenced to be hung. From facts elicited at his trial, and confirmed by his own confession subsequently, he appears to have been one of the most infamous characters of the time. Commencing, while young, with stealing small articles of little value, he passed rapidly through the different grades of crime, until he reached this, the highest offense known to the law.
A few days before his execution, a pious minister, having acquainted himself with the history of the unfortunate man, resolved to make an effort to lead him to repentance and salvation.
It was near the close of about the third day before the execution, when he presented himself at the door of the prison, and asked permission to spend the night with George Groves. He was well known to the jailer, for it was his custom frequently to visit the inmates of the prison, and pour into their wounded hearts the oil and wine of the Gospel. But the keeper hesitated.
"Are you acquainted with the character of the prisoner?" asked he in astonishment.
"I am," replied the minister.
"Then, sir, I hope you do not think of trusting yourself alone with him. He is the most desperate villain that has entered these walls for years. He has already made an attempt to take the life of the person who has the charge of him. I would advise you, therefore, to dispatch your business with him as speedily as possible, and retire with myself.”
"If this be your only objection," the minister replied, "I prefer to remain. I do not fear the result. It is a duty I owe to God as His servant, and to the soul of this poor man. He who delivered Daniel out of the mouths of lions, is able to deliver me out of his hands.”
"Well, sir, if that be your determination, you shall be gratified; but, I assure you, it is a perilous undertaking.”
So saying, the jailer led the way. Passing through several huge iron doors, each one of which was carefully secured after them, they reached a long, narrow passage, facing which on either side were the cells of the prisoners. Before one of these cells they stopped. The doors of the cell were thrown open, and the jailer, followed by the minister, entered. Grove was seated on the margin of his cot, with a long, loose chain suspended from every limb. The light of day, which at best shone but dimly into the narrow apartment, had now almost forsaken it; but enough remained to discover to the minister the stern, demon-like expression that sat upon his countenance, as he looked up from beneath a pair of dark, heavy eyebrows, and a low, receding forehead; the latter almost hid by a mass of disordered hair. After an exchange of salutations, the minister, without stating the object of his visit, seated himself near the prisoner. The jailer bade them good evening, and retired.
The minister and the murderer are now alone. The minds of both are filled with deep and anxious thoughts; but, O, how different are the subjects that occupy their minds! An angel from heaven, and a devil from hell, could not present a more striking contrast.
Groves listened attentively to every sound, and almost counted the receding footsteps of the jailer, as he passed along the narrow passage. At length his practiced ear caught the low rumbling of the outer door, as it echoed and re-echoed among the prison walls; then, springing from his seat, like a lion on his prey, he seized the minister by the throat.
"Ha! ha! ha! ha!" said he, in fiendish triumph, "I have you in my power, and I'll murder you! Come to guard me, aye? you shall suffer for your folly. You can't hang me twice. I have but one life, and that's but a day!" and the grasp of the strong man grew tighter and tighter.
The good man made no effort to release himself, for he knew that a stronger arm that that of Groves was underneath him.
"Groves," said he, scarcely able to speak, "Groves, hear me for a moment. I have an important message for you. I have not come to guard you; I come to you in love.”
"Love!" quickly exclaimed the other; "'tis a lie, you do not love me.”
"Yes, Groves, I love you, your soul, your poor soul," said the minister, in a voice of love and tenderness.
"What! love me! George Groves, the thief, the robber, the murderer! No, no, it cannot be. I hate all men, and all men hate me. Love," he continued, "that word sounds strange in my ears. But I remember now. 'Twas my mother. My mother loved me,—O, my mother! I remember when I sat upon her knee; she called me her own dear boy, her idol, and her hope. And, when at last she called me to her dying bed, and pressed me to her bosom, I felt the warm tears falling on my cheek, and I knew she loved me. But, since that hour, the world has hated me, pursued me, and, before the week is gone, will have deprived me of the right to breathe the free air of heaven.”
His voice faltered, and the big tears fell from his eyes despite his efforts to restrain them. Relaxing his hold on the minister, he sank upon his seat, and buried his face in his hands.
"Poor Groves," said the minister, "there is one left to love you, Jesus Christ, the sinner's friend. And tonight I come to offer you pardon in His name. Will you accept it?”
"Jesus Christ does not love me; He will not pardon me. I cannot hope," said Groves, amidst tears and sobs.
"How can you doubt His love? Did He not die for you the shameful death of the Cross? Does He not invite you in His Word to come unto Him and have life? Hear what He says, " 'Him that cometh to Me I will in nowise cast out.'
“‘He that believeth hath everlasting life.'
"Will you not believe in Him and be saved?”
"O, I do believe, I never doubted. I believe all that is written concerning Christ, and it is this that troubles me. O, that I could doubt it, for I might then die in peace! But hell is my portion. Its pains have seized upon me already.”
"The simple assent of your understanding to the truths of the Gospel can never save you. You have sinned against a holy, just, and good God. You must repent of your sins and believe on Him with all your heart.”
"It is too late now," replied Groves. "If I could be restored to liberty, I might hope, by acts of devotion to God, to atone in some measure for the evil I have done. Christ will not accept me now.”
"Had you a thousand lives to live, Groves," said the minister, "and all of them should be spent in doing good, you could not thus atone for a single sin. You cannot merit your salvation by good works. Grace alone can save you. You have only to believe and live. To exercise saving faith, you have only to believe that God is sincere in making you the offer of salvation. Then, repent of your sins, and take God at His word; comply with His terms, and He will save you. For this let us pray.”
The minister and the murderer knelt together in prayer—earnest, importunate prayer; mercy was all their plea.
In this manner they spent the greater part of the night. The morning at length dawned; but ere the sun had scattered the morning clouds, the Sun of Righteousness by its healing beams had dispersed the thick clouds of darkness that enveloped the soul of the poor prisoner. George Groves gave the clearest evidence of being a changed man; not converted simply, but regenerated and renewed by the Holy Spirit. Death to him was stripped of all its terrors.
On the day of his execution the minister accompanied him to the scaffold, and then, for the last time, they knelt together in prayer. After an affectionate parting, they separated to meet again in heaven. He died expressing a firm reliance in Jesus Christ for salvation, and rejoicing in hope of the glory of God. Death was robbed of its sting, and the grave of its victory.