SURELY, never was the perpetual sunshine that the believer is privileged to enjoy better exemplified than in Joseph Davies. The blood of Christ had cleansed his conscience, the Person of Christ filled his heart, and the reflection of heaven beamed in Joseph’s happy, cheerful countenance.
After half a century of practical knowledge, he could say, “religion is a reality”; and Joseph Davies had good cause for thus speaking. There was nothing in his person or circumstances to produce the peace that reigned in the heart and that sat upon the brow of the aged pilgrim. In the prime of life a fall had injured Joseph’s spine, and had rendered him incapable of walking without the aid of his “sticks.” Later on, the partner of his joys and sorrows had been taken away, and just as old age and incapacity for active labor came on, his eyesight had failed him, and he had become totally blind.
The old homestead had to be given up, and the remainder of the old man’s life was spent in visiting his children, who were located in various places.
It had been his hope that the declining-years of his life might be spent in poring over the word of God, hut that hope was over. However, many Christian friends would read to him, and thus make up for the lack of eyesight.
The old man’s progress of soul in divine things was very marked after his blindness. One day a person was inquiring as to whether the Christian could know for a certainty that he has eternal life, and added, “I know that Joseph Davies is a Christian and he would not say so. I will ask him.” So the old man was appealed to. “Can a person know that he has eternal life, and can he ever lose it?”
A bright smile played on his wrinkled cheek as the old man answered, “Ah! I used to think they might lose it, but since I have been blind, now I see that one who has eternal life can never lose it, and is safe to reach glory.”
His solicitude for the conversion of his relatives was great; it was his custom to pray every day at a certain hour for them all by name, and it was his joy to see many of them brought to God, among others, the writer of this paper.
Death to him was the portal of heaven. As loved ones stood around the bed, his countenance was radiant, and “Jesus,” “Jesus,” “Glory,” “Glory,” fell from his lips as he left this body to be forever with the Lord.
To speak of Christ was no effort to him; words about the Lord seemed to well up from a full heart and to run over to others. So great was his love for souls, that when there was special preaching, he has been known to spend all the night in prayer. He was neither preacher, teacher, nor evangelist, yet he was all these, for his life, his words, his ways, were an eloquent discourse, and for miles around his native village, no one was better known than he as an example of holy consistent walk and piety. He was just what every Christian should be, a shining light for Christ in this dark world. All cannot have a prominent place, though all can shine for God. But notice the great secret—he was much in communion with God, and thus drew from the source of blessing, Christ Himself; and having an overflowing cup, it ran over to others without difficulty—out of iris belly flowed rivers of living water.