I HAVE nursed him several times,” said Mrs. Mitchel of her husband, and sickness costs dear, and falls hard on poor people, I assure you, ma’am. Well, in my trouble, the doctor says to me, ‘I must book it; so much a visit, you know, Mrs. M.; but why don’t you belong to my dispensary? ―only a trifle a month―and then all of you can be attended, and no further charge.’”
“An admirable plan,” I replied, “and really the doctor is kind so to arrange it; of course, you belong to his dispensary?”
“That I do,” answered the woman; “I have paid the money so much a month, and have had no more trouble. Yes, we can all of us now get cured for this trifle”; and Mrs. Mitchel grew quite eloquent upon the benefits of her doctor’s dispensary―a strange thing, by the way, for the mention of the doctor usually calls forth more grumbling than thanks yet to be physicked yourself, husband, and children, if not cured, for a few shillings a month, is surely worthy of anybody’s praise!
“Come, another question, Mrs. Mitchel: Have you been for yourself to that dispensary where those who are too poor to pay―yes, who indeed have nothing to pay―and whose diseases are ever so dreadful, are all cured forever, and for nothing?”
“Well, ma’am, I catch your meaning. We ought to go there; it is a very right thing. I know all that.”
“But of what value to you would it be knowing all about your doctor’s dispensary if you did not belong to it? And suppose you did belong to it, what good would it be to you, though the doctor were waiting there and the medicine ready, if you did not go to it?”
“It is quite true; we ought to think about our souls,” replied my friend; “neighbor― died not long since; and I have seen a good deal―”
“Ah, my friend,” I broke in, “here is Christ, the healer of the diseases of our souls, the Good Physician, ready to save you from all your sins, and to make you fit for God’s presence, and He does not ask so much as one farthing from you. His is a full, free, and finished salvation, and your soul, diseased with sin and subject to everlasting death, may be healed now. The door of this dispensary of salvation is open for you, but suppose that after all you perish?”
“Well, but I am on my road to heaven; I believe that,” answered Mrs. Mitchel.
“It is good to be on the road, truly, but too many a poor diseased sinner drops and dies, and does not reach heaven. It is not going, or saying you are going, to the dispensary that does you good, but what you get when you are there. Beware lest you are one of those persons who are only on the road to heaven, but who never reach Christ. There are hundreds of people who go to church and chapel, but who never go to Christ. Get up close to Christ―sins, diseases, helplessness, poverty―you your own very self, just as you are, and take by faith the salvation which the Lord Jesus, without money and without price, presents to you this very day.”
Alas! how many are in the same soul condition as Mrs. Mitchel. They know all about Christ, but have never been to Him; they know that they might be saved, but never really wish to be. How true are the Lord’s words, “They that are whole have no need of the physician, but they that are sick.” It is only the soul which feels what sin is that really desires the Saviour; and let a man’s religion be what it may, if there be not real heart-need of Christ in him, his religion is of no more use to him than the medicine in the dispensary is to the sick person who will not avail himself of it. F.