In relating the story of God's love to me, whereby I was delivered from a state of existence truly wretched and miserable, "having no hope, and without God in the world," and brought into the glorious liberty of the children of God, I earnestly pray that God, who is rich in mercy and love, may own and bless the narrative to the conversion of precious souls, and to the comfort and help of those who have found, and who do enjoy, the peace which the world can neither give nor take away At the age of 12 years the Lord saw fit to put His hand heavily upon me, by laying me on a bed of never-ceasing pain, which lasted with more or less intensity for four years, and from which I but slowly recovered, gradually awakening to the reality that I should be lame for life. I had been brought up by Christian parents. My father died very suddenly a few months after he had brought me home from school. All these things had not the effect of making me think of the uncertainty of this life, and how very near I was lying myself to the brink of the grave.
I had often heard of Jesus and His love in dying for me. I had heard of the joys of heaven and the miseries of hell, but all seemed to be idle tales, though I confess I sometimes felt a fear of death, and did believe that if I died as I then was, I should go straight to hell. I smothered these thoughts as much as I possibly could, but often, when I was lying between life and death, Christian friends would speak in such a way as to frighten me terribly, yet the moment their backs were turned I forgot it all, or rather tried to forget it.
One thing I remember very distinctly—I was carried to my dear mother's bedside the morning my poor father died. She was so overcome by grief she could scarcely speak, but my attentive ear caught the faint words—"Read the 27th Psalm." I opened the Bible that I found there, and read on till I came to the 10th verse, then she looked at me lovingly and said, "Yes, when your father and your mother forsake you, then the Lord will take you up." She could say no more, and I went away. But, do what I could, those words kept ringing in my ears, and many a time afterward did I hope the words would prove true. Through all that long illness I was watched over by a mother's tender love and care, and at night, when lying in bed, she fancying that I was asleep (she always slept in my room) I have heard that loving mother interceding and wrestling with God in prayer aloud, in her extreme anxiety for my bodily health, but above all for the salvation of my soul.
But things went on as usual. My only brother came home from school in England (our happy home was in Ireland), and he was, like myself, in the truest sense, "unconverted.”
Years rolled on. I went to school again, and seldom, or ever, did my thoughts rest on the unseen things of eternity. Just about ten years after my father’s death, I received a telegram from my brother while I was in England, bidding me come home at once, as my mother was dangerously ill. I only arrived in time to find her insensible, in which condition she remained for many days, and then died without ever having regained consciousness for one minute. Now, then, thought I “My father and my mother have left me, I wonder will the Lord take me up.”
I soon returned to the east of England for more than a year, during which time, instead of my poor mother’s words proving true, I felt that I was more a stranger to grace and to God than ever. I became worse and worse, indulging in all kinds of sin and wickedness, until at last I remember thinking that even Jesus Himself could not save such a sinner as I was. Here was where I began to feel I was a sinner, in other words, was beginning "to come to myself.”
Very soon after coming to this conclusion, I received a letter from my brother, who was then at a hydropathic establishment, at Limply Stoke, near Bath, asking me to come there. I went; and on the following day my brother met me and said, "Will you join a little meeting?" I was quite thunderstruck, and said in my own mind, What on earth has come over him that he should talk of meetings, knowing full well that he used to hate them just as much as I. I said something to the effect that "I hoped it was nothing about religion." He said "Never mind, come on." So I went, and found that the little meeting consisted of a Major R—, my brother, and myself. I felt horribly uncomfortable, and when Major R— opened his Bible, and began to speak of Jesus, His love in having come into the world to save sinners, and to save me, I would have given all I had to have been elsewhere. I thought that he spoke and explained things better than I had ever heard any one do before. I considered him a wonderfully clever man; yet I was greatly relieved when we stood up to separate. But, on going out of the door, he looked at me quietly and said, "Are you saved?" "Saved!" I said, "no, I'm not, and not much chance of it," and rushed away, feeling that I hated that man more than any one I had ever met.
A word here in passing. Long afterward my brother told me that, owing to the conversations he held with Major R —, he was then very anxious about his soul's salvation, and his first thoughts were, like Andrew (John 1:41,4241He first findeth his own brother Simon, and saith unto him, We have found the Messias, which is, being interpreted, the Christ. 42And he brought him to Jesus. And when Jesus beheld him, he said, Thou art Simon the son of Jona: thou shalt be called Cephas, which is by interpretation, A stone. (John 1:41‑42)) to bring his brother to Jesus, so he told Major R— never to leave me alone. The following will show how fully he fulfilled the request.
I have said that I disliked the man, consequently I endeavored to keep at as great a distance from him as possible, but I was forced to meet him every morning in the breakfast room, when he invariably used to say, "Well, how are you getting on? Are you saved?" For some time I smothered down my increasing rage, and merely shook my head. During the day, when walking about the grounds, I was almost sure to come face to face with him, and he always put the same question, "Are you saved?" I often lost my temper and said—"I told you yesterday 1 was not, so where is the use of tormenting me in this manner?" He would quietly answer—"Ab, there has been plenty of time for your immortal soul to be saved since then." Before I could get away he would open his Bible (which was his constant companion) and read a verse or two to suit my case. Somehow I respected him (though I took care not to show it) for being so true to his colors, and did not dislike having a verse to think about during my lonely rambles, but I never gave him the satisfaction of knowing that I ever thought of what he said.
Things went on much in the same way for nearly a month, when at last I said to myself, "I can't stand this any longer, and this eternal question Are you saved?" So one day I left, and went to M—, where I thought I would have some peace. Soon after arriving there I was introduced to a countryman of mine who happened to be staying there. Well, thought I, this is great luck. After breakfast he asked me if I would take a walk, and he would show me the beauties of the country. I said I would be delighted, so off we started. For the first quarter of an hour I thought him silent and stupid, very different from what I had expected, when all at once he seemed to awake from a dream, and abruptly asked—"Are you saved?" I could scarcely believe my ears. Is this the way, thought I, he is going to show me the country? It seems I have jumped "out of the frying pan into the fire." I frankly told him I was not saved. Then he began to tell me the "old, old story of Jesus and His love," and how He was willing and anxious to save my soul. He never ceased talking till we arrived home again. I had seen nothing of the country, and I had gained no comfort from what he had said. Each day he asked me to walk with him, and each day asked me "Are you saved?" I felt I was not, and was more and more unhappy.
At the end of a fortnight I could bear this man no longer, so I determined to go away. He came to the railway station with me, and just before the train started he said, "Will you tell me if you are anxious to be saved?" "I am," I said, "but I fear there is no chance of it.”
"Ah," he said, "God will very soon cause you to realize the fact that you are saved." "I hope so," I said, and I believe the words came from my heart.
I had made up my mind to go back to Limply Stoke in the hope that I would find Major R— had left. The train started and I found myself in a carriage alone. I felt relieved, and my spirits began to revive. This did not last long, however, for on entering a long tunnel the train began to stop. I got frightened, thinking there was going to be an accident; there was no light in the carriage, and for the first time in my life I felt what real fear was. How I longed to have some one to speak to, how vividly did all the scenes and words of the past few months crowd before my memory! Then the little question, "Are you saved?" seemed to mock me; I felt I had turned a deaf ear to it, and now, perhaps, it was "too late." But, after a while, the train moved on again, and the sun soon shone in all its glory and splendor into the carriage. I never felt so relieved.
I felt as though I had come out of hell. Then thought I, If the light of the sun can give such relief by dispelling the darkness of the tunnel, what must the relief be when the Sun of Righteousness, in His love, dispels the thick darkness of the sinner's soul? I felt a little bit happy, as, for the first time, I fancied God was working in me. However, this all soon vanished, and the old feelings of fear and hatred revived on finding that Major R— was awaiting me with the same old question, "Are you saved?”
He followed me about as usual, and never left a stone unturned to frighten me, as I thought. One morning in particular he was very pressing, trying to induce me to think, when again I found I could not bear it, and made up my mind to go to Bath for the day to play billiards. Very soon I found myself in the train with five other men in the carriage. Soon after the train started I was both surprised and amazed to find the gentleman who was sitting opposite to me staring very hard at me, and more so still, when he quietly asked me, "Are you saved?" I had never seen him before to my knowledge. My temper rose at once, and I said in the most insulting tone I could command, "I don’t know whether I am or not; what business is it of yours?" I will never forget the quiet, calm, gentle expression of his face. I would have much preferred his striking me on the spot to looking at me as he did. I felt there was a mild rebuke in his look more than words could express. He remained silent for some time, evidently perceiving I was in a violent temper, and wisely allowing time for it to subside before speaking again. The thoughts that were running through my mind at the time were something to this effect:—I have endeavored to escape as much as possible from this tormenting question "Are you saved?" but it seems I can't escape, and here I am at last shut up in a railway carriage, with one of my tormentors, face to face, so I must bear it now. I felt I was a great fool to exhibit so much temper, so I endeavored, after a time, to put as bright a face on it as possible. Then the gentleman said, “I will ask you three questions, will you answer them?" "Yes," I said, "I will answer as many questions as you like. We will not be together very long, so you may make the best of your time." “Well,” he said, “Do you believe in God?”
I was quite surprised to be asked such a question, and answered, “Yes, of course I do, so does every one in England, I should think.”
"Do you believe the Bible?”
"Yes," I said, "I do, as long as I can recollect I have been taught to read and believe the Bible.”
"Do you believe that Jesus Christ was sent into the world to save sinners?”
"Yes," I said, "I believe that," and mind, I really did believe all that; I never doubted it.
"Well," said he, "here's a marvelous thing; I have asked you the plain question, Are you saved?; and you say you don't know, still you confess that you believe the Bible, and believe that Jesus was sent into the world to save you. And what does your Bible say? ‘Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved’ (Acts 16:3131And they said, Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house. (Acts 16:31)). Now, then, what have you to say?”
Words cannot express the feelings that I then experienced. I could scarcely speak. I felt that a ray of heavenly light had descended from on high into my soul. I felt that Jesus had died for me. I felt I did believe on Him, I took him simply at His word when He said, "He that believeth on me hath everlasting life" (John 6:4747Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me hath everlasting life. (John 6:47)). With trembling voice I said, “I do, at last, blessed be god, believe. I now know and feel that I am saved. And were the train to run off the line, and were I to be among the killed, it would be to me but the entrance to everlasting joy and blessedness.”
He looked up, and, with tears glistening in his eyes, he thanked his heavenly Father for my conversion.
Billiards did not enter my head that day. When I came home I went down on my knees, and prayed for the first time in my life. I had often repeated prayers, but, oh, the difference between praying, and saying prayers. I thanked my Father (I could now view Him as a Father) for having plucked me as a brand from the burning, and I asked Him to increase the spark of faith He had kindled in my heart.
Nearly all that night I could think of nothing else but that there was joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who had repented.
But the next morning, when the sun shone brightly into my room, I did not feel quite so happy, and I said to myself, "Can it be it was all a dream?”
During the day, when walking about and feeling uneasy, who should walk up to me but the gentleman who had met me in the train. "Well, my dear young friend," he said, "how are you getting on?"—there was no more "Are you saved?”
"I don't quite know," I said, "I am full of doubts and fears, in fact, I am doubting the reality of all I felt.”
"Now," he said, "will you listen to reason?”
"Indeed, I will listen to anything you say," 1 at once exclaimed.
"You have been walking for a great many years hand in hand with the devil. Yesterday, you threw him ‘overboard,’ as it were, and took Jesus in his place. Do you think he will let you go on your way rejoicing, without endeavoring, in every possible way, to bring you back to him again?”
"No," I said, "I don’t believe he will, and I feel that it is the devil that is now putting these doubts into my mind. Christ has begun a good work in me, and I am confident He will finish it" (Phil. 1:66Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ: (Philippians 1:6)).
"You are right," he said; "when you feel these doubts and fears rising before you, remember that it is the devil, and look to Jesus, at once, for power to overcome him; and remember that if you resist the devil he will flee from you '" (James 4:77Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. (James 4:7)).
I have done so, and I have found Jesus to be "a very present help in time of trouble." Yes, by continually looking to Him for help, the devil's power and temptations have, by degrees, been weakened.
I have found Jesus to be a "friend that sticketh closer than a brother." And deeply anxious do I feel that you, dear reader, should share this great happiness. If you have not yet come to Jesus, oh, do not delay another moment, but cleave to Him, with full purpose of heart, and you will find that He will never leave you, and never forsake you. G.