Years ago Fort George, in Scotland, was garrisoned by an English regiment of the British army.
The nearest town was Campbeltown. As it was at some distance from the fort, a wooden slaughterhouse had been erected close to the water's edge immediately below the garrison. It served as a meat market for the convenience of the military as well as for others living in the area.
One day as he traveled homewards Mr. McPhail, a servant of the Lord, had to wait for some time below the fort for the ferry-boat, which had to be summoned over the opposite side.
While Mr. McPhail was standing at the little dock, a young soldier came into the market to purchase some meat. He asked the price of a quarter of mutton, and the butcher named the sum. With a frightful oath, in which he pledged the everlasting damnation of his soul, the soldier refused to give the price; but finally, after a good deal of haggling, he agreed to the butcher's terms.
All the while Mr. McPhail was standing outside the market. He overheard the conversation inside and was shocked at the awful jeopardy in which the soldier had placed his poor soul. He felt he must seek an opportunity of addressing him.
As soon therefore as the soldier was leaving, Mr. McPhail found a way to join him and to engage him in conversation.
"A fine day, soldier."
"A fine day, sir," replied the man, touching his cap.
"Do you belong to the Fort?"
"Yes, sir, and a dull enough place it is; nothing but drill and the blues."
"You are an Englishman, I see; what is your name?"
"Luke Heywood, your honor."
"That seems to be a nice piece of mutton you have."
"So it is, sir, and cheap too."
"What did you give for it, may I ask?"
The soldier named the price.
"Oh, my friend," replied Mr. McPhail, "you have given more than that."
Luke Heywood looked astonished. "No, sir, I gave no more; there's the man I bought it from, and he can tell you what it cost."
"Pardon me, friend; you have given your immortal soul for it. You prayed that God might damn your soul if you gave the very price you have just named; and now, what is to become of you?"
The ferry-boat was now at the slip and Mr. McPhail stepped on board. Luke Heywood walked off with his purchase, and entered the fort. Throwing aside his cap, he sat down on a bench in the barrack. The stranger's words had struck home, and now his deeply concerned reflections turned upon his conversation at the ferry. "You have given your immortal soul for it; and now, what is to become of you?"
He tried to banish the occurrence from his memory, but the words of the stranger were ringing in his ears like the death knell of his soul. In an agony of terror he rose from his seat, rushed bareheaded from the fort, and arrived, breathless, at the ferry in quest of Mr. McPhail.
"Where is the gentleman?" cried Luke to the butcher.
"What gentleman?" inquired the other.
"The gentleman dressed in black clothes. He told me that my soul was lost."
"Oh, you mean Mr. McPhail, the minister. He went across more than half an hour ago."
The ferry boat being about ready for a second trip, Luke entered it. Inquiring of the ferry-men the road to the minister's house he leaped from the boat as it touched land and started in pursuit across the weary solitudes of the moor. He arrived towards evening at the manse of the little village. Here he demanded eagerly to see Mr. McPhail, and was immediately received.
Luke remained in the town all that night and the two following days. During most of this time he was with the minister in his study and there Luke learned of God's love for his poor lost soul. Soon he was weeping with joy unspeakable over a newly found peace with God, and the knowledge of eternal salvation through believing in God's dear Son. Now Luke's greatest joy was to tell out the good news to sinners.
Friend, have you heard and received the news of salvation? If so, you can sing, as Luke did:
"He took me out of the pit
And from the miry clay;
He set my feet on the Rock
Establishing my way;
He put a song in my mouth
My God to glorify:
And He'll take me some day
To my home on high."