A GOOD many years have rolled away since a young man stood over a newly-made grave in Cumberland, holding a worn Bible in his hand. The tears rolled down his cheeks, and as if addressing the occupant of the grave he thus spoke: “Thy prayer has been answered, dear departed friend. This book has been, under God, my solace: in it have I found Him of Whom Moses and the prophets did write. Forever―yes, forever―shall I have cause to remember that thou didst speak to me of JESUS.”
A year had rolled away since Henry M― had stood in that country churchyard, a gay, thoughtless young man, whose one aim in life was pleasure. His father had died when he was quite young, and had left him an ample fortune which enabled him to gratify a taste for travel. Fancying that happiness was found in the fleeting things of this world, his days were spent in seeking in other scenes a happiness which the past had failed to bring.
Having left the hotel where he was staying lie had sallied forth one autumn day to visit the seat of Lord S―where he was told the park abounded in beautiful views. The way led through the churchyard, in which he lingered for a while to admire the singular beauty of the situation. Whilst thus occupied a funeral entered the churchyard. The mourners were few, but, if sobs and tears mean anything, they were mourners indeed. The service was soon over, and all had left the grave except an old man of nearly fourscore, whose silvery locks and benign countenance greatly impressed the young pleasure seeker. He watched the tears slowly chasing each other down his deeply furrowed cheeks, as with eyes upturned to heaven he appeared to be communing with God.
The sacredness of the old man’s sorrow touched Henry M —, and he was about quietly to withdraw when, in a tone of kindness and respect, the old man said, “Let not my sorrows drive you away. In this grave is buried one whom, when alive, I loved but too fondly, and now, when dead, I too deeply lament.”
“Someone nearly related, perhaps?”
“My granddaughter. Her parents died and left their one daughter to my care, and now Mary has gone; but she is gone to her home, she has left a poor weary world for that scene where ‘the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest.’”
“You think, then, she is happy now?”
“Think, sir! I know that she is.”
“How is that possible?” said Henry M―.
“Sir, Mary was a believer in the Lord Jesus Christ.”
“But are not all Christians believers?”
“All who are Christians indeed, but not all who profess to be Christians. ‘He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life.’ This is a plain and positive declaration. No condition is attached; no exception is made; be that believeth the Divine testimony concerning Jesus hath everlasting life. If all professed Christians were true believers they must be saved.”
“How did your granddaughter differ from those who, as you say, are only professing Christians?”
“She was acquainted with One Whom the world despises. She knew Him Whom to know is life eternal.”
“What is His name?”
“His name is Jesus! Upon Him, the Rock, did she build for eternity. Her hope of salvation was in Him, not in herself. Her trust was in His work, not in her own. She rested her acceptance on what He has done, not in anything in herself. It was not always so. Long did she try by means of her prayers, her tears, her Bible, her church, her kind and gentle temper, to gain peace with God, but all in vain. Only when she turned to Christ did she find the rest and peace she sought.”
“But,” replied Henry M―, “although we cannot think that our own good works can altogether save the, soul, yet surely they must be done to prevail upon God to forgive sin?”
“The believer in Christ Jesus cannot be too constantly exhorted to the performance of all good works, but that is because he is saved from all his sins and is perfectly righteous before God in the righteousness of Another. He Who knew no sin took our sin; we who knew no righteousness are made righteous in Him. Mark the perfect exchange. We as sinful men were not more identified with sin than He was as our Substitute in God’s sight; neither is He more righteous than we are made righteous in Him.”
“These things seem too vast to be true.”
“No, sir; their very vastness is a proof that they proceed from an infinitely wise God. Receiving these truths into her heart by the power of the Holy Ghost, my dear Mary found that peace which passeth all understanding. Believing the record God gave of His Son, she saw herself one with Him―through Him pardoned―in Him justified―in Him complete―in Him saved forever.”
“But how could she know all this?”
“The faith of my granddaughter was a very simple one. Mary’s creed was not drawn from the systems of men, but from the Word of God. Reading the Bible one day she came to this verse―
“‘To save sinners!” she exclaimed. Sinners, and to save them! What good news is this?’ Like Lydia of old the Lord opened her heart to receive it. She read it―she believed it―she was at peace.
“As she lay on her dying bed I said to her, ‘Glorious to be one with Christ!’ She replied, ‘Glorious, indeed, to be one with Him―no longer seen in the first Adam, but always beheld in the second―chosen in Him―accepted in Him―holy, yea, without blame in Him. He, made an offering for my sin; I, made the righteousness of God in Him. As He is, so am I in this world.’
“Had someone gone to her bedside and told her to comfort herself with her holy desires, her spiritual affections, her past life, Miserable comforters,’ she would have said. ‘Jesus is my comfort―my salvation―my hope―my life―my all. He is my peace. It is not self, but Jesus; it is not my work, but His work; it is not my righteousness, it is God’s righteousness which gives my soul rest.’ In her life and conduct she adorned the doctrine of God her Saviour; she received the truth not in word, but in power and in the Holy Ghost; but she is gone and these eyes shall see her no more.”
The old man paused, for his tears trickled fast.
As it was now sunset Henry M― gave him his hand and told him, half smiling, that he had never talked so much religion in his life.
“Ah, sir,” said the old man, as he pressed his proffered hand, “I may never see you more. This feeble hand shall soon be stiff and motionless, these eyes shall soon be closed in death, and you, too, must die. You setting sun, you falling leaf, whisper death is near, and after that the judgment.
“Eternity! Awful word ETERNITY. There is something fearful in that word. Eternity, an ocean without bottom or without shore! Oh, sir, should you venture that ocean on the shattered planks of your own righteousness, should you dare to stand before a holy God in your own unholy, unrighteous works, what must the issue be but endless, hopeless misery?”
“Passing as you are, sir, a young man, through a world where everything is deception, I can only pray that this conversation may not pass away and be forgotten. Before I say farewell, I would add, Salvation is for sinners. The door is open to the most unworthy, to the vilest. Numbers―the most vile and thoughtless―have, through grace, entered in and found peace to their souls, Remember, over the door is written―
“‘WHOSOEVER WILL, LET HIM TAKE THE WATER OF LIFE FREELY.’”
As he spoke these words he took out a small pocket Bible. “This book,” said he, “has been, under God, my solace in many a wintry hour. Often, when all has been lowering without, and dark and cheerless within, have the truths therein contained been brought home to my soul. Now my granddaughter is gone I shall use no Bible but hers, and if you would not wound my heart take this Bible from me. When you look upon its pages think of the old man at E ―, and remember he spoke to you of JESUS.”
With hasty steps and a full heart Henry M ― returned to his hotel, and the old man to his cottage.
The result you know. A year afterward he revisited E ―, hastened to the cottage to find that the old man had died just a fortnight before. Going from the cottage to the churchyard his tears fell fast, as taking from his pocket the Bible the old man had given him, his last words forced themselves on his mind, and he exclaimed, “Forever ―yes ― forever shall I have cause to remember that thou didst speak to me of Jesus.”
My one desire in transcribing this is that the message from that graveyard may reach thy soul, unsaved reader. May it speak to thee of Jesus―Jesus the sinner’s friend. Jesus, the just One, Who died for the unjust one. Jesus! Jesus! JESUS!
Henry M―found in Him a satisfaction which neither wealth nor pleasure could produce, a Saviour from the awful doom of a hopeless eternity, and a Saviour who could fill, satisfy, and keep him through this defiling world. You also shall find Him if, like Mary, her grandfather, and Henry M ―, you come in simple faith to that blessed Saviour Who came into this world to save sinners.
What an encouragement to us Christians to speak to every one of Jesus, JESUS! We may not, any more than the sorrower at that graveside, see the fruit of our words here, but the day will soon dawn when sower and reaper will rejoice together. How glad we shall then be that we spoke to perishing men of JESUS! H. N.