IF there be one time more than another when a man is downright in earnest about eternal things, it is when death stares him in the face. It was with this thought in my mind that I went a few months since to one of the London hospitals, to see a young man who was lying there in the last stages of consumption, if haply I might be enabled to direct him to Christ as the Saviour.
I had known Walter — some years, and, having frequently come into contact with him, had sought as opportunity offered to put the Gospel before him as God’s alone remedy for the sinner. He usually would hear me patiently, though he would reply nothing, acquiescing quietly with all that I had to say as though he accepted it as truth; but if pressed as to whether he could say that salvation and eternal life were his present possession, he had said to me more than once something such as―
“What a piece of presumption! No one can know that for certain until the judgment day.”
“I tell you solemnly,” I replied, on one occasion, “unless a man is saved before he dies, he never will be saved.”
So years slipped away, finding him continually procrastinating, always meaning to “turn over a new leaf” (as though that could erase a single stain on the former blotted pages!), but never reaching a definite decision for Christ. And how like this case are thousands more! Moral, upright, and in every way most estimable and desirable they may be, yet lacking this one thing needful — the present knowledge of forgiveness of sins. Many of them, too, feel this lack, although perhaps they would not own it to a single fellow-creature. Oh! that they would own it to and believe on the Saviour Himself! Pardon would then be theirs.
Now, Walter — felt his need. Of this I am persuaded. So, after some connection with one of the Nonconformist bodies, and finding there nothing to meet his case, he at length joined a ritualistic church, and engaged regularly in a round of devotions, which a so-called minister of the Gospel imposed upon him as a means of allaying the fears that ofttimes would oppress him, and of satisfying the longings of his heart which he could not stifle.
Then God laid him low with a dangerous illness; for if we refuse to hear Him that speaketh in days of health, He will sometimes make His voice heard in the quiet of the sick chamber. When he had sufficiently recovered, I went to see him in the hope that, as some Christians whom I knew had been with myself praying for him, the Lord might, during the time of pain and weakness, have opened his eyes to see, and so he might have found joy and peace in believing. But not yet was it to be, for the human heart long resists the gracious pleadings and entreaties of the Lord God.
Sometime after his partial recovery he took a severe cold, and his doctor told me, on my going to him after some months to inquire how his patient was progressing, that his days were numbered, adding to me, “He may live three months, but he may not live so many days; I cannot tell.” Such being the case, I sought again the prayers of others, and very soon went to see him at the hospital where he was lying.
Being admitted to the ward, I was not long in recognizing the poor fellow, though, alas! he was so altered, and the very shadow of what he had once been. The sound of my approach awakened him from a little slumber, and he said to me, quite naturally addressing me by name—
“Ah! I thought you would come today, for I wanted to see you.”
I cannot tell what had given him the impression that I should come on that day, for I had said nothing about my visit to any of his relatives, so I replied, after shaking him by the hand — “Well, why do you wish to see me? Can I do anything for you?”
“Yes, you can,” was the response. “But please come close to me, for my voice seems so weak. Do you remember on a certain day that you told me about the Lord Jesus Christ, and how that it was possible to know the pardon of one’s sins now, and that I ridiculed you and what you told me?”
“No,” I said; “I have forgotten the circumstance.”
“Well,” he added, “I wanted to see you to ask you to forgive me, because I see now that it was very wrong.”
“My dear fellow, I forgive you freely,” I rejoined; “indeed, the matter had entirely slipped my memory. But, tell me, do you accept what I then said as true?”
“Yes, indeed, I do,” he replied emphatically.
“And do you know the preciousness of the truth then that the blood of Jesus Christ, God’s Son, cleanseth us from all sin?”
“Yes, I see it now. But, oh!” he added, as a look of inexpressible sadness crossed his face for an instant, “what a wasted life has mine been! If only I had known this before! It seemed too simple, and there was nothing to do.”
“No,” said I, “Jesus did it all. Before He died, He uttered that triumphant victor’s cry, ‘It is finished.’ Can you rest there?”
“Yes,” he said, more peacefully.
So we talked on for a few moments, and he told me that during the long time he had been confined to his bed by illness (in all nearly two years), he had been continually struggling against the truth, and the strivings of the Spirit of God; but at last he had submitted, and, confessing his sinfulness, had thrown his whole weight upon the sinner’s Saviour.
“May I come in two days’ time?” I asked, as I was leaving.
“Please do,” he replied, “I shall be so glad to see you.”
Little did I think, as I took that hot feverish hand in mine, that it was the last time that I should see Walter — upon earth. On the morning of the day on which I had intended to go and see him again, I received a telegram telling me of his sudden death that very morning. Yes! he was absent from the body, that poor suffering body, and at home with the Lord; of this I have not the smallest question. Was that not a brand plucked from an eternal burning, dear reader? Although he had resisted so long, the seeking Saviour had found him; the cords of His faithful love had proved too strong, and He had sweetly forced the wanderer in to taste the feast that He had provided. But that look of pain still remains in my memory, and those sad, sad words, “Oh! what a wasted life!” still ring in my ears.
Dear fellow-traveler along the pathway of life, remember, I pray you, that moments and opportunities are rapidly fleeting. “For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appeareth for a little time and then vanisheth away” (James 4:1414Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away. (James 4:14)). It is not given to all to have nigh two years to think. How many are cut down suddenly in the bloom and heyday of manhood and womanhood! “Boast not thyself of tomorrow; for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth” (Prov. 27:11Boast not thyself of to morrow; for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth. (Proverbs 27:1)). “For he that, being often reproved, hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroyed, and that without remedy” (Prov. 29:11He, that being often reproved hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroyed, and that without remedy. (Proverbs 29:1)). Today the door of mercy stands widely open, and “whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely” (Rev. 22:1717And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely. (Revelation 22:17)). Come, then, with all your sins, come just as you are, burdened and weary with the load of guilt. Fear not, it was for such as you Jesus came. He came to seek and to save that which was lost. Oh! how meagre is the thought of so many to enjoy the world as long as possible, and then turn to God at the latest hour! Let it not be so with you, dear reader, for if the Lord Jesus died for you, He seeks that you should live for Him in this dark world, holding forth the word of life; and it is surely a good thing that those who have life through His name “should live not unto themselves, but unto Him who died for them, and rose again” (2 Cor. 5:1515And that he died for all, that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him which died for them, and rose again. (2 Corinthians 5:15)). F. L.