NEVER can I forget poor George―. I seem even now to see him, seated on a low stool in the wide chimney corner of the lowly thatched cottage in which he dwelt. I had heard that he was sick unto death, and also that he was “without God and without hope in the world.” He was but eighteen, and one of the most profane youths in that place. Whilst following the plough from day to day, his language had been so bad as to make him noted. Such was poor George, until he was suddenly arrested in his career by disease of the throat, attended with great prostration of strength. In this state, no longer able to follow the plough, he sat trying to keep himself warm by the embers of the peat fire; and thus I found him the first time we met. He sat, leaning his head on his hand, his looks sad, his eye dull, and his mind wrapt in thick moral darkness. He sat in the “shadow of death.” He just knew that he had a soul, but was as ignorant as a heathen of anything connected with his state before God. At first, the attempt made to awaken in him any thought or anxiety about his soul appeared hopeless; but at length I found that giving him a text to learn roused his attention, and when he repeated it, it was explained to him. Gradually he became so interested that he began to look for our visits; and what was said to him of the way of salvation, by faith in the precious blood of the Lord Jesus Christ, was listened to with fixed attention. There was also alarm at the thought of death, and of being called to stand before the judgment seat with all his sins in array against him. Why was it then that this poor youth did not receive with joy the glad tidings of salvation? For the same reason that thousands do not, — they do not think that the work of Christ is enough without their adding something to it; they hope by their own prayers or repentance to put themselves into a better state to receive it. Thus it was with poor George, and had he died in this state he must have perished forever. But God had other thoughts and purposes concerning him.
One day, having started to go a considerable distance, an accidental circumstance caused me to turn back; and, finding it would be too late to start again, I determined to go instead and read to poor George. If the Lord has a purpose to accomplish, how wonderfully does he turn the steps of his children and lead them where he will. On entering the cottage, I found George looking more dull than usual. “Alas!” I mentally exclaimed, “how hopeless a case is this!” feeling as though I could not again repeat the message of love that had reached his ear so often (as it seemed) without effect. After having greeted him, I sat down, and opening the Word at the 55th of Isaiah, read it through, and then, with one or two remarks, I rose and left the cottage.
Not long after this, being on the eve of leaving that neighborhood, I went for the last time to bid poor George adieu. It was one of the closing days of autumn, and the wind blew in chilling gusts, bringing down the few remaining leaves of the trees, the bright green foliage of which had but a few weeks before rejoiced my eyes. As they fell one by one in my path, with the lines of death stamped on all their beauty, my heart sank at the thought, “Thus, too, poor George is passing away. As the grass that withereth, and the flower thereof that fadeth, so will it soon be with him as to the body; but the immortal spirit! where, oh where, will that be?” The anguish of my heart found vent in an earnest cry to the throne of grace that this brand might even now be snatched from the burning. On entering the cottage, there he sat in the accustomed place; but, oh, how changed! The dull, heavy look was gone; the true light had shined into his heart, and it beamed over his whole aspect, and brightened his eye with the expression of that peace “which passeth all understanding.” “Well, George,” I said, “we are about to part forever in this world; would that we were sure of meeting in a little while in the home above. I may go soon, but your disease may take you into the presence of God this very night. And oh, I repeat once again, for the last time, ‘Are you ready to appear there?’” To my surprise, he answered quickly, “Yes, quite ready.” “What, do you feel at rest about your sins?” “Yes, quite.” “For what reason?” “Because of Christ.” “Do you, then, believe you are washed in His blood?” “Yes!” (Oh, the joy of that moment—what words can express it?) “But, tell me,” I said, for unbelief still suggested a doubt as to the reality of the change; “tell me, what has made you so happy?” He answered, “It was all through that last chapter you read.” He then, in his simple language, told me that the words, “Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters; and he that hath no money, come ye, buy wine and milk without money and without price,” had, by the power of the Spirit, been used to show him how God expected him to come, and take freely all the blessings needed by a poor sin-sick soul. He said, “Before I heard that chapter, I was wanting to give God a better heart, more prayers, and to be in a very different way; but I saw then that he expected nothing, except for me to come and take it all from him without money; and that moment I knew I was saved.” Here his poor mother began to weep for joy and I knelt down in thanksgiving that this poor prodigal had been brought home, truly without money or price of his own, but at what a cost! — even the precious blood of the Father’s own Son, an eternal monument of the love that gave that Son to die for poor prodigals.
I could now say farewell almost joyfully, with the thought of our meeting above. “An heir of God, a joint heir with Christ,” I mentally exclaimed as I turned, on leaving the cottage, to take a last look at his youthful and florid countenance, and caught the last glance of his eye, now beaming with that expression of joy and peace never to be seen save in the countenances of those who, “being justified by faith, have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.” Not long afterward, I heard that he had entered into rest. His sufferings towards the close had been severe, and it was with great difficulty that he could speak, or swallow a drop of water. The one who visited him sent me the few words he had been able to utter, and precious were they to my heart. He said, “Christ was with him, and was precious, precious to him. He longed to depart; the sting of death was gone; he was only waiting and longing to be called.” There were works, also, testifying to the reality of the change within; for “By their fruits ye shall know them.” In all the poverty of his circumstances, under the privation of those comforts absolutely needful to the sick and dying, and when in the extremity of bodily suffering, his mother testified that he was “patient as a lamb.” He also manifested great anxiety about the souls of his relations, speaking to them as he was able. He was especially distressed about an absent sister, living where he feared she was exposed to temptation. He begged that his Sunday boots might be sold, and the money used in bringing her home. For a short time he had a sharp conflict, and doubts and fears filled his soul; but soon all was peaceful assurance; and during the last fortnight of his life he enjoyed much of his Saviour’s love and presence. “Truly,” the one who gathered up his last words remarked, “this is a brand plucked from the fire! A few months ago, one of the most profane and godless of youths; now a washed, a sanctified, a justified one in the paradise of God.” With the apostle Paul, he could say, “Of sinners the chief; howbeit for this cause I obtained mercy,” &c. (1 Tim. 1:15,1615This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief. 16Howbeit for this cause I obtained mercy, that in me first Jesus Christ might show forth all longsuffering, for a pattern to them which should hereafter believe on him to life everlasting. (1 Timothy 1:15‑16).)
Dear reader, this simple record is put before you as a testimony to the power of the Word. Have you been made “wise unto salvation” by that Word? Then take it, and read it to the sick and dying. God speaks to them in it. They have no time to lose in listening to the words of man. They want that which is “quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword,” that which shall not return to God void, but shall accomplish that which he pleases, and shall prosper in the thing whereto he sends it. Take it in faith, nothing wavering, and the answer of faith shall surely be yours.
L. B.