During the winter of 187― I was the guest of a Christian lady residing at the pretty village of C―, in Sussex. We sat talking of that happy time when the Lord shall descend from heaven with a shout, and we shall be caught up to meet Him in the air, and be forever with Himself, when we were disturbed by a violent knocking at the door, accompanied by the sound of a man’s voice singing a low song.
“Don’t be alarmed,” said my friend, “it is only Nat W― in one of his drunken fits; he will pass on directly, or the police will take him away.”
“Does he often annoy you in this manner?” I inquired.
“Oh yes, very often when he goes home this way.”
“But who is Nat W―?” I asked.
“He is one of the villagers,” replied my friend; “he lives in the little white cottage by the beach, and for the last six years he has been a confirmed drunkard and infidel. His wife has been bedridden for the last twelve months with disease of the spine, and for the last two she has been anxious to see Mr. F―, the minister; but Nat says that he will be the death of the man, whoever he be, who dares to go to talk to his Dorothy about religion; and he abused dreadfully a Christian man who tried to see her, and refused to allow him to enter his cottage. When he is absent from home he locks his door, so that no one can get in until he returns, and for the last two months not a soul but the doctor has crossed the threshold of their cottage.”
“How dreadful,” said I, “do you think she is saved?”
“I fear not,” was the reply, “and the doctor says she cannot live more than three months; but Nat will not let you see her; it is useless to make the attempt.”
As it was getting late we separated for the night, but I could not rest; thoughts of this poor woman filled my mind I pictured her lying, alone and neglected, in her little cottage, rapidly drawing near to eternity, and yet, as far as was known, unsaved; and I lifted up my heart to the Lord, and asked Him to send one of His servants to speak to her of Himself as the One who died for sinners, and who was their only Savior and friend.
In the morning, on opening my Bible, my eye fell on those solemn words, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? Then said I, Here am I; send me.” (Isaiah 6.)
It was just the answer I needed to my prayer, and I determined to see Mrs. W― that morning if possible.
The snow was falling fast when I set out, carrying with me some little dainties I thought might be fancied by the invalid, and lifting up my heart to the Lord to incline her husband to allow me to speak to his wife, I reached the cottage.
In answer to my knock, a gruff voice inquired, who was there. “A friend,” I answered, “do open the door: I want to speak to you.” Upon this the door opened, and Nat appeared, asking what was my business. I replied that I had brought some jelly for Mrs. W―, and asked if I might see her.”
“But who has sent you?” he asked in surprise.
“My Master,” I answered.
“But who is your master?”
“He is the ‘King of kings.’”
“I know nothing of Him,” said Nat, looking much surprised; “but where do you live?” I told him where I was staying, and he exclaimed,” What! have you come all this way in the snow to see Dorothy? then come in, you shall not be disappointed,” and I thankfully followed him into the cottage.
Such a scene of dirt and wretchedness I had never before witnessed; there was no fire in the grate, and scarcely an article of furniture in the room, and Dorothy was shivering with cold “Do you think you could light a fire, Mr. W―,” I asked; “your wife is very cold.”
“I have not a stick in the house, and no means to obtain any either.”
“Don’t lock the door,” said I, “I will soon be back again;” and leaving him standing watching me, I hurried to the nearest place where wood and coal were to be obtained, and requesting them to be sent immediately, I returned to the cottage. In a short time a cheery fire was blazing in the grate, and Nat produced a small saucepan, into which I put some beef tea I had brought, and soon had the pleasure of seeing Dorothy enjoying a nourishing meal.
“How good it is of you to take so much trouble for me,” said the poor woman; “what makes you so kind?”
“The Lord Jesus sent me to you this morning,” said I, “to tell you He loves you so much that He came down into this world and died on the cross, bore all the punishment that was due to you as a sinner, and God has proved that He is satisfied with what Jesus has done, by raising Him from the dead and seating Him at His own right hand in heaven, and now the work is finished, and God can be just and the justifier of him that believeth in Jesus.”
“Oh, is that all true?” asked Mrs. W―. “I have been a great sinner, and hated the very name of religion or anything good, and now I am dying, and I am afraid to die, for I have been an enemy of God, and I know I deserve to be sent to hell, and why shouldn’t He send me there? I am a lost woman, yes, lost, lost!”
“Thank God you know it,” said I, “for I have a message for you; listen to this, ‘The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost’ (Luke 19:10); so, you see, Mrs. W―,
it is those who are lost Jesus came to save. He wants to save you, just as you are; it gives Him greater joy to save poor sinners than any human mind can imagine; will you give Him this joy now, and let Him save you now? He is able to do it and He is willing; He waits with outstretched arms to receive you; He speaks to you and says, ‘Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.’ (Matt. 11:28.) And ‘Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out.’” (John 6:37.)
“It is all very beautiful,” said Dorothy, “but it is not for me, I am too bad, I have been too wicked; if I had only thought of these things when I was well and strong, there might have been hope, but I have lived an ungodly life, I never wished to be saved till I was told I must, die, and now it is too late; my life has been spent in the service of Satan, and he will pay my wages in hell. Oh, it’s too late! it’s too late!”
“It is true the wages of sin is death,” said I, “but, ‘The gift of God is eternal life, through Jesus Christ our Lord.’” (Rom. 6:23.) God offers you His gift, Christ, instead of the wages you have deserved; it is not yet too late. Remember the thief on the cross; he had been Satan’s servant or slave all his life, yet at the very last he turned to Jesus in simple faith, and said, ‘Lord, remember me when thou comest in thy kingdom; ‘and Jesus, in His infinite love, answered him, ‘This day shalt thou be with me in paradise.’ Will you not, Mrs. W― come to Jesus as this poor thief came?”
“Oh that I might come!” said she, “but you don’t know how bad I’ve been.”
“But Jesus knows all about it,” I answered, “and He says, ‘Come now and let us reason together; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.’ “(Isaiah 1:18.)
“White as snow,” she murmured, “Oh, how precious, how sweet; white as snow.”
As it was time for me to leave her, I read the 53rd of Isaiah, and took leave of her; but as I reached the door she asked me to tell her once more of scarlet sins being white as snow; I did so, repeating also “The Son of man is come to seed and to save that which was lost,” and promising to come again to see her the next morning, if possible, I left her.
The next day I saw her again, and the next, and the next; but still she seemed to linger, longing to be saved, yet fearing to take the truth to herself because she was so great a sinner.
One fine morning, as I sat by her side talking of Jesus, she said, “I believe I am the greatest sinner that ever lived.” “Then come to Jesus at once,” I replied, “for He says ‘I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.’ And again, ‘God commendeth his love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.’ And again, ‘While we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son.’ And again, ‘For when we were without strength in due time Christ died for the ungodly.’” (Romans 5:6, 8, 10.)
“Oh, do tell me more,” she exclaimed, “that just meets my case; I’ve been ungodly, and an enemy, and a great sinner, but this gives me hope. Oh, tell me more!”
I read the 3rd of John, from the 14th verse to the end of the chapter. At the end of the 16th verse of John 3 she exclaimed, “Oh, how kind it was of Him; how He must have loved us!”
“Yes, indeed He did,” I replied, “and all He asks us to do in order to be saved, is to believe on Him, to trust Him fully, entirely.”
“Is that all?” asked Dorothy, “have I nothing to do?”
“Nothing,” I replied, “Jesus has done everything. On the cross He said, ‘It is finished,’ and if you try to add anything to what is finished, in earthly things, you only mar and spoil it, so in this you can add nothing to it, it is complete.”
“Yes, now the work is finished,
The sinner’s debt is paid,
Because on Christ the righteous
The sin of all was laid.(Isaiah 53:6)
For God released our surety
To show the work was done,
And Jesus’ resurrection
Proclaimed the victory won.” (Rom. 4:25.)
“I see, I see,” she exclaimed; “‘he that believeth on the Son HATH everlasting life.’ Oh, do help me to praise Him; I can never thank Him enough; I do believe on Him; I do trust Him; oh, how I long to see Him to thank Him for His love, His wonderful love in saving me. I don’t think there will be one soul in heaven who will sing so loud as old Dorothy, for I’ve been a greater sinner than any of them ever could be; oh, how wonderful it is that Jesus should love His worst enemy so much as to die to save her from eternal death; oh, what glory to think that very soon I shall be with Him. I can thank Him better then, when I see Him face to face.”
Dorothy lingered only nine days after this, but her faith never once wavered, for it was fixed, not on her frames or feelings, but on the imperishable word of the living God; because He said it she believed it. I was with her as much as possible, but no one thought the hour of her departure was so near. I was with her in the morning at twelve, and at four in the afternoon a messenger came to tell me to go at once. I hurried to the cottage, and found her very near death, but rejoicing in the certainty that she was going to Jesus.
“Read about ‘white as snow,’” she said, and I did so. She lay still a moment, and then said, “Let me say good-bye to you now, as I may not be able soon.” I bent over her for a moment, unable to speak: she pressed my hand in hers and said, “I shall meet you above, farewell! God bless you, and make you a blessing to many others, as you have been to me.” As soon as I could speak I read her favorite chapters, the 3rd of John, and 21St and 22nd of Revelation; she smiled and said, “That is where I am going;” then turning to her husband, who stood beside her, she said, “Nat, will you come there? If so, you must come to Jesus as a poor lost guilty sinner, and He will in no wise cast you out; give up your false infidel doctrines. You are better off than I, for you can read the Bible for yourself; oh Nat, my dear husband, do believe in Jesus.”
For some time after this she did not know us. Once I asked, “Do you know me?” She shook her head. “But you know Jesus?” I added; she smiled and said, “Oh yes.” Just before her spirit took its flight she looked up with a smile; I bent over her, and asked her to tell us what she saw. “Jesus! Jesus!” she replied, “don’t you see Him? Can’t you see Him? Hark, He calls me. Yes, I come, Lord Jesus, I come to thee.” Another bright beautiful smile lit up her face, and with the name of Jesus on her lips she passed from this world of sin and pain and death to be with the One who had loved her, washed her from her sins in His own blood, and made her white as snow.