Amongst the many scenes of the past, over which memory loves to dwell, there are none that awaken such tender recollections, or that have a more permanent place in the mind, than the ways of God in grace with precious souls; and just because they are in grace, their fruit will remain and be enjoyed forever. Some I well remember and love to recall. Death or distance may have separated the chief actors in those scenes, but they will all meet again, and meet to remember the ways of God in grace, and celebrate His praise forever.
We would now record, under this title, a few instances of His rich and marvelous grace, winch, we may say, linger before the mind and dwell in the heart; and may they be owned of the Lord for the blessing and the encouraging of many, and for the glory of His own most gracious name. We write from memory and cannot always give the exact words that were used, but they are substantially the same the old man and the young woman.
After preaching, while numbers were still lingering, and little companies in conversation throughout the large hall, a man touched me on the shoulder, and said, “Would you come and speak to a poor old man who is sitting alone there by the side of the wall? He seems in great distress about his soul.” On looking round, I saw the man, and said, I will speak to him immediately. But before I could leave those I was talking to, he had come to where I was. He was indeed both old and poor, and bore every mark of both. But the tears that rolled down his deeply furrowed face made all about him interesting. There is something especially touching in the conversion of an old man, and still more in a neglected-looking, helpless old man. He could scarcely speak for emotion. With difficulty he exclaimed in answer to some question I asked him about his soul, “Oh! I feel as if I could fall down on that floor and praise God that I am not in the flames of hell tonight.” And do you believe, I said, that He has saved you from these burning flames now? “Ο yes, Ο yes, but I never thought I should be saved; Ο what shall I say? I know now that Jesus died for me, the greatest sinner ever was—and I am saved—but I never thought I should be saved.”
Believing that God had indeed met the poor old man in the riches of His mercy, I wanted to know a little about him, and why he had thought he never should be saved. He told me that he had been an agricultural laborer, and that he used to be very passionate and swore dreadfully; and that he was very ignorant, and did not understand anything about the Bible, and being such a wicked man, he thought he never could be saved. And what are you doing now? I asked him. He said he was too old and feeble to do a day’s work now, and he stood about the streets and was ready to go a message for any one, and got a few coppers in that way. But while I was talking to the poor old man, in rushed, at the front door, a young woman about the age of sixteen. “O,” she exclaimed, as if out of breath, “I was half-way home, but I felt so sorry that I had not spoken to you, that I came running back. I wanted to tell you that I have found peace with God tonight, and I am so happy: no doubts or fears now—but I have to be at home by—o’clock and I must run.” Stand, I said, stand one moment by the side of this old man, that I may thank the Lord for His rich blessing to you both.
This was a sight never to be forgotten. The old agricultural laborer, withered, worn, leaning on his staff; and the fresh, brisk young maiden; but God’s rich, sovereign, marvelous grace had fully, and at the same moment, met both—met the need of both. To the human eye, how wide the difference! Who would care for the old farm laborer now? Nay, rather, who would speak to him? His long, shaggy, gray hair; his unwashed smock-frock; altogether the very picture of old age and want—who would not hurry past him? God only could linger over such an old man and shield him with the covert of His wing; pardon his many sins; cleanse him by the blood of Jesus; make him whiter than snow, and fit him for the brightest scenes of heavenly glory. But who can speak of this grace? What had he done to deserve it? The poor man knew but little, but he knew enough to convince him that he only deserved the flames of hell forever. He was not self-righteous; he knew the end of such a life as his; and I have always found that such characters are more easily convinced of sin, and have fewer difficulties to overcome in receiving the truth of the gospel, than the merely religious, well-to-do, church-going people. Like the publicans and harlots of old, they enter the kingdom of heaven before the self-righteous Pharisees.
How encouraging to the heart and strengthening to the faith of the preacher are such instances of God’s sovereign grace! But the precious blood of the slain Lamb has been sprinkled on the mercy seat, God is glorified, and waits to receive all who come in the faith of that blood. The poor, old, ignorant, wicked, worn-out laborer, or the moral maiden, are alike welcome, pardoned, and saved, through faith in the gospel. But what shall be done to those who refuse to believe—who refuse such a free invitation—who despise such rich provision for the soul? The judgment will surely answer to the guilt. God, in righteousness, will estimate the guilt and award the punishment. But why—why not, Ο careless, Christless soul—why not believe now that Christ bore the judgment of sin in His own body on the tree, and bore it that thou mightest be free—be saved forever? Believe, believe now—receive the truth; rest in Christ; rejoice in Him. “He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life; and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him.” John 3:3636He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life: and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him. (John 3:36).