The work of the week was over, and the clock was just striking ten one Saturday night, during the Session 1865.6, when, having seen the rest of the patients under my care in certain wards of the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh, I drew near to the bedside of Alexander S——. He lay in ward——, having been admitted four days previously with unmistakeable evidences of consumption. This night I made a more careful examination of his chest than I had before done, and it was doubtless this that drew from him, the moment I had finished, the question—
" Well, Doctor, what do you think of my case?"
He was a carpenter, a fine, manly fellow of 20, and his calm intelligent face did not give much evidence of the disease which had wrought frightful ravages in the lungs: however, he had been ill for some time, and I judged was prepared to receive the truth in reply to his query.
" You are pretty had, I am sorry to say, Alexander," I replied.
" I guessed that, Sir; but do you think I shall get better?"
" In this cold climate I fear there is not much prospect of recovery for you: the only chance appears to me to lie in your getting to some warmer region, such as Australia."
" Well, Sir, there is no hope in that quarter," he replied, " for I have no means to take me there, and no friends who could pay my passage. I hope you will do what you can for me here."
"You may rest assured of that," I rejoined; "everything that skill and care can furnish you with here you shall have."
"Thank you, Sir," he quietly replied, in no wise perturbed by my communication, which I now saw he was evidently fully expecting.
A pause of a moment or two followed, and then, turning the subject, I said, "Well, my dear fellow, now we have spoken about the poor, frail body, what about the soul? Are you saved, Alexander?"
" Oh! I could not say that, Sir."
" But is it not time for you to be looking the things of eternity fully in the face? Why do you not come to Jesus, and then you would be saved?"
" I have thought of these things sometimes, Sir, and I've read my Bible occasionally, and when I was well I went to church now and then. I know I'm not so good as I ought to be, but I'm not so bad as a great many that I know of."
" All that may be quite true, Alexander, but it is beside the mark, and your not being so bad as some others will not help you before God, will it?"
" Oh no, Sir, that's quite true; but I have not lived a very bad life, and I hope to be saved."
" You need not 'hope to be saved,' you may know and have salvation where you lie this very night, if you will receive Christ;" and, perceiving that he was now somewhat interested, I sat down on his bed and told him the gospel as simply and plainly as I could. He answered freely enough any question I put to him, and, as I pressed his own guilt upon his con science, I saw he was convicted that he was a sinner, and, further, a lost one, were he to die in his present state. Having unfolded the story of the cross, as God's only way of escape for a lost sinner, and assured him that God bade him do nothing, but believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and rest simply on His finished work, I now pressed on him immediate acceptance of God's offered mercy and salvation. Quietly he listened to all till the clock struck eleven, when he said, rather emphatically, " I'll think about it, Sir."
" Stay," I argued; " why will you think about it, when God wants you to take Christ just where you lie, and be saved this night. The Philippian jailor heard of Jesus, believed on Him, and was saved immediately. Don't put off deciding, I beseech you."
" I promise you I'll think about it, Sir. Good night."
Seeing he was determined only to " think about " and not to " receive" my message, I very reluctantly bade him " Good night."
His bed was quite at the bottom of the long ward, and opposite its foot was a door. I crossed the ward, opened the door and was partly out in the passage, closing the door behind me, when, ere my hand released its grasp of the handle, a voice seemed to say, " Go back and speak to him once more." I hesitated. Was it fancy, or the Lord lingering in grace over one who was refusing His mercy? "Go back" again seemed to sound in my ears.
I returned to his bed, and, bending over him, said, " Alexander, I cannot leave you to-night with that terribly uncertain word, 'I'll think about it.' O, do decide for Christ! You may never have another opportunity of receiving or believing the gospel. God's word says Behold now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.' I have come back just to beseech you not to 'think about,' but to receive Christ."
A shade of displeasure, I grieve to say, rose upon his brow, and again repeating " I'll think about it, Sir," a second time he said " good night," and sorrowful at heart, I scarcely knew why, I now finally left him.