IN a level, near the bottom of a deep coalpit, sat a group of dusky miners busily engaged eating their mid-day meal, and ever and anon casting furtive glances towards one of their number who sat a little apart, nervously fingering his frugal meal of bread and cheese, but apparently afraid to commence eating it. At length he raised his hand to his head, removed his cap, and, while his eyes were closed, his lips moved in thanksgiving to God. This was evidently what his coworkers had been watching for, as one of their number immediately exclaimed, “He is really saved! he has taken off his bonnet.”
God had witnesses to the Light of Life in that dark mine, and these invariably, on commencing to eat, uncovered their heads, and gave thanks to God for the food He had given them. So distinctive had this feature become amongst the men, that no one was reckoned a real Christian who did not thus openly acknowledge God.
The reality of John’s conversion had been severely tested that day. On descending the shaft in the morning, he surprised the men in the cage by telling them he was saved.
“Saved!” “Turned a canting hypocrite!” “Consider yourself better than us!” came from a chorus of voices. “We will soon see if it is true.”
They kept their word. Indignities and insults were heaped on him in close succession. When after patient labor he had filled a hutch with coal, the pin of a partially filled hutch was substituted for the pin of his full one; thus on reaching the top the full hutch would be placed to the credit of the one who exchanged the pins, and the light-weighted hutch to John’s account. Angry words and fierce blows would at any previous time have followed this deception, involving as it did pecuniary loss. Today John suffered in silence, because he knew he was being abused for Christ’s sake. The climax was reached at dinnertime, when, after much natural shrinking, he took off his bonnet, and, as the others styled it, “said a grace.”
“Try him once more,” said one. The suggestion was quickly acted on. In an instant a bucket of water was dashed over John’s devoted head, drenching his clothes, and by saturating his bread depriving him of an expected meal. John rose, shook his dripping garments, and moved along to where another collier, with bared head, sat at his meal. Two blackened toil-hardened hands met in a firm grasp, and Walter said, “Well done, John; you have witnessed a good confession.”
How had this wonderful transformation come about? Walter and he shared the same room. “I could not bear him,” said John, when telling of his conversion afterward; “he was always reading the Bible, or some religious book, and praying and preaching at me. I generally stayed out at nights till I thought he would be in bed; but as soon as I got in he started and talked to me, told me I was a lost sinner, and that I must be born again.”
Brother in Christ, do you feel aggrieved that in your abode you have the presence of one whose tastes are utterly dissimilar to your own? one who smiles contemptuously as you read God’s Word; who sneers as you bend your knees to have communion with your Father; who frowns if you offer him a Gospel book, and turns complacently to his comic paper? Take courage. How knowest thou, O man, whether thou shalt save thy fellow-lodger? Let him know you have treasures in which he has no part; that you are a son of God, a joint-heir with Christ, and for you is reserved an inheritance incorruptible.
“The Lord is coming,” said Walter to John, as he lay down one night.
“Is He?” said John, stoically; and then, to himself, “Here he starts lecturing me again, after I stayed out shivering in the cold till I thought he would be asleep.”
“He will take me with Him to glory,” continued Walter.
“Indeed,” muttered John.
“He will raise all the dead who have fallen asleep in Him; He will change all those living who believe in Him; we will ascend together, and tie forever with Him.”
“There is a prospect of peace for me at last,” said John.
“A prospect of peace for you!” answered Walter, with great earnestness. “Yes, there is; peace, false peace, will be your portion then; nobody will trouble themselves about your immortal soul then; nobody will pray for you; nobody will say to you, ‘Turn ye, turn ye, for why will ye die?’ You will be let alone-left for judgment.”
Silence fell on the darkened room. John shifted uneasily from side to side, uncomfortable at the thought that Walter was praying to God for him. He was just about falling asleep when Walter reopened the hateful subject by saying, “The Lord may come tonight, and so, if I am away in the morning, you will know where I am.”
“Away in the morning!” It sounded a little alarming. Could it be true? Was it possible this great event Walter spoke of could really happen? John buried his head in the bedclothes and tried to banish thought in sleep. It was all in vain. “Away in the morning!” ticked the clock. “The Lord is coming!” sounded continually in his ear. Walter was sleeping the calm undisturbed sleep the Lord gives His beloved, but no closing of the eye came to the now awakened soul by his side. “The Lord is coming!” he kept saying to himself; “Walter will be taken; I will be left!” and the sin-burdened lad threw his arms around the sleeping Christian and held tightly to him, vaguely hoping, earnestly praying, if the Lord did come, He might take him too.
Friend, do you know anything of spending a night thus? Has the solemn thought of meeting God ever driven sleep from your eyes?
“Are you ready for the meeting
With the Saviour in the air?
Are you ready for the greeting
With the myriads who are there?
If not ready! if not ready!
Oh! for that great day prepare.”
With the cold gray dawn of morning John aroused Walter, and begged him to pray for him. To Walter the request was a most agreeable one. He had gone through travail for the youth beside him. He had ceased not night and day to warn him of his lost condition; he was now to have the joy of seeing him delivered from the power of darkness, and, translated into the kingdom of God’s dear Son.
“What must I do to be saved?” asked John, with deep emotion.
“Do! what can you do? Neither weeping nor praying, nor working, on your part, could make atonement for your soul. But nothing now remains to be done. Christ has done it all. He shed His precious blood to make atonement for your sins. You have only to trust in Him. Listen to His own words.”
Slowly and carefully they read those marvelous soul-satisfying words of the Lord Jesus: “Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation, but is passed from death unto life” (John 5:2424Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life. (John 5:24)). Again they knelt; this time to bless God for another soul loosed from the thralldom of Satan, and brought into the glorious liberty of the children of God. Then they went out to their daily toil, there to bear witness to the saving grace of God.
Young Christian, have you experienced the washing of regeneration, and have you in consequence “taken off the bonnet”? You may say, “That simile has no reference to me. My hat is carefully removed the moment I enter my office.” Quite likely, but be assured whether your day is passed in class-room, workshop, or office, you will find something there which answers to this. By some act or word of yours you can show to those around whose you are, and whom you intend to serve. Do you shrink from the derision such a course would bring you? Remember, “if ye be reproached for the name of Christ, happy are ye.” The Lord Jesus has bestowed many gifts upon us, and “unto you it is given in the behalf of Christ not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for his sake.” The suffering will not harm you. Did you but see the happy face of our friend John, you would think with us that the chilling douche he received on taking off his bonnet, for Christ’s sake, had done him only good. M. M.