WILLIAM F. lived at a watering-place in the county of Somerset. Some years ago he was a headstrong, unamiable, irreligious man. His occupation was that of manager of a salt-water hath-house. I cannot find that he was less honest than his neighbors, or less sober and industrious; but he was ungodly, “without Christ, having no hope, find without God in the world.”
On the first Sunday evening of the year 1860, William F. heard a discourse, by which he was deeply impressed. At the close of the service he went up to the preacher, grasped his hand, and expressed the most intense desire that he might at once find peace for his disturbed soul. The preacher prayed and God graciously answered the petition. William F. left that place the same night a pardoned sinner, a saved man, rejoicing in Christ.
Let none be startled at the suddenness of this conversion. It is not a singular, it is not a rare instance. Saul the persecutor was suddenly converted; the jailer at Philippi was suddenly transformed into Christ’s freedman; the three thousand on the day of Pentecost were suddenly converted under one sermon. But I need not specify instances, where cases are confessedly innumerable both in ancient and modern times.
One circumstance, however, is remarkable. On the same Sunday, during the greater part of the day, the godly wife of William F. was engaged in prayer for her husband’s conversion. I use the word remarkable in its strict sense, as implying that which is worthy of being remarked, or noticed; not as meaning anything wonderful. No; there is nothing wonderful if a husband’s conversion result from his wife’s prayer. Has not God promised to hear and answer the prayer of faith? And shall He not keep His own word? It is written, “All the promises of God in Him (that is, in Christ) are yea, and in Him Amen. But it is worthy of remark, for the encouragement of others, that in the case before us there was connected with God’s work the blessed instrumentality of a wife’s prayer. Anxious Christians, carry your ungodly relatives to the mercy-seat; pray for them, and doubt not.
On the following Wednesday, William F. was struck with a sickness which appeared to be unto death. He was much distressed by the thought of dying so soon after conversion. He knew the doubts that many entertain, and rightly entertain, with regard to deathbed repentance. He was anxious that the grace of God should be magnified in his life as well as in his death. He therefore besought the Lord to “spare him yet a little,” that lie might have an opportunity of proving his sincerity in the sight of men, before he should go hence, and be no more. God heard his prayer as He heard the prayer of Hezekiah, and added unto his days two years.
During these two years, William F. went in and out amongst his fellows, a pattern of everything that is “pure, and lovely, and of good report.” The crooked, headstrong temper was changed into the meek and lowly and loving spirit of a true disciple of Christ. His knowledge of Divine things appeared to have grown up with extraordinary rapidity; and, whether among his brethren or in the world, the integrity of his character, and the earnestness of his piety, constrained all men to acknowledge the reality of God’s work in him.
Perhaps the two most prominent features of his renewed character were these—anxiety for the souls of others at home and abroad, and a constant desire “to be with Christ which is far better.”
Two years elapsed. On the first Sunday evening of the new year, 1862, he listened to a discourse on the text, Rom. 8:28,28And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28) “We know that all things work together for good to them that love God.” His mind seems to have been impressed by the great truth here affirmed; for he read the chapter in his family worship on the following Tuesday morning. On that day, after prayer and the morning meal, he went out, and was not heard of again until evening. Late at night he was found dead upon a rock adjacent to his house, in the attitude of leaning over the parapet of the reservoir whence his supply of bath-water was drawn.
Death must have been instantaneous; it was occasioned by disease of the heart. The coroner’s jury delivered a verdict of “died by the visitation of God”— a righteous verdict but it was a visitation of mercy, not of judgment.
He died alone—upon the hard and cold rock. But it mattered not. He was ready for the change; his feet were firmly fixed upon the Rock of Ages, and he is now realizing in a brighter world the blessed truth that “all things” do indeed “work together for good to them that love God.” “He, being dead, yet speaketh.”