SOME years ago I was asked to call and see a dying man. He was one whom I had known for a long time, and my previous knowledge of his character made me shrink exceedingly from the task. I can only describe his condition as that of a Pharisee, self-righteousness being the prominent feature in his creed. To have to deal with such an one about the salvation of his soul was what I would willingly have avoided. It seemed indeed a hopeless case; but being so urgently entreated to visit W—, I felt it a positive duty, and as such only could I regard it, not feeling any confidence as to the result. But I had to prove that "My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord." And truly the Lord had His own purpose of grace even for this Pharisee.
First day.—I had been told that the most convenient time to see poor W— was early in the day, so I repaired to his house the next morning. He was suffering from acute bronchitis, and I found him propped up in bed with pillows. His difficulty in breathing was so great, that he could not speak for some minutes after I entered the room. I merely said, "You are very suffering;" but he could not reply, and I sat in silence, feeling my need of guidance as to how I should break it. Here was a soul before me whose days, if not hours, were numbered; I had not the slightest shadow of hope that he was aware of his real condition before God. This was a most solemn consideration, as I felt I must seek to bring it home to him; and the intensity of his bodily suffering, which drew out my sympathy, only made the task more difficult. I could only look up for suited words in which to bring the truth before him.
Whilst I was thus occupied, he looked at me, and at length gasped out, “I can't think why God has so heavily afflicted me.”
He paused, and I still sat silent, having no words in which to answer him. Again he repeated the sentence, adding, “I am no worse than others, and not so bad as many.”
Then I felt that my conviction as to the real state of his soul was confirmed. The Pharisee had declared himself; he was still standing on the soul-destroying ground of his own merits. Fatal delusion, with which Satan lulls the conscience of in any a sinner! But the opportunity I sought was given. He had taken his ground, and I could meet him from God's Word. Drawing my Bible from my pocket, and opening it at the 18th chapter of St Luke's Gospel, I said, “My friend, God drew a moral portrait of you eighteen hundred years ago. I will read it to you." And I began at verse 10. “' Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank thee, that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess.' You see God has brought out the very thoughts of your heart. As to your not being as bad as others, what advantage is that to you? It is only the negative side after all. ' Not so bad,' allows that you are bad; and if you have committed but one sin, that is enough to shut you out from God's presence; and if you die as you are, you will surely sink into hell forever.”
Still he maintained his ground; said he had never injured anyone, had been a good husband, a kind father, and much in the same strain. All I could reply was, that this was of no avail; it had nothing to do with what he was in the sight of God. I then sought to show him the contrast between the Pharisee and the publican, urging upon him the necessity of his taking the place of the latter, owning himself a sinner, and casting himself upon the mercy of God. To this he made no reply. His countenance fell, and I saw the enmity of his natural heart fast rising against the truth of God, and the one who was seeking to press it upon him. There was but one thing to do; and turning to him, I said, "Before I leave you, I will kneel down and ask the Lord to remove the scales from your eyes, and give you to see yourself as you really are, that you may be willing to cry, 'God be merciful to me a sinner! ' “After doing this I left, promising to call again the next morning.
Second day.—This was but a repetition of the first. W was in the same condition, both as to body and soul; and feeling that God had given me that Scripture in Luke 18., I again pressed it upon him, but apparently with the same result. I left him again, after praying for him, feeling how helpless is man in such a scene, and how entirely of God is the work of conviction.
Third day.—On paying my visit on the morning of this day, I was struck with horror at hearing that W was insensible. I stood at his bedside, but he was perfectly unconscious, at least to all outward things. He neither saw nor heard me, and I came away, having but one resource,—in God; but how unfailing is that resource! To all appearance, hope was at an end; there had been no change in him the previous day, and now there was no prospect, humanly speaking, of his regaining consciousness. But with God all things are possible, and in this conviction I committed poor W— to Him. Again and again, during that day, did I beseech Him to let His light shine in upon that dark soul, and give him to cry for mercy ere He took him hence. How that prayer was answered, the sequel will unfold.
Fourth day.—The moment I entered W—'s room on the fourth morning, a ray of hope darted through my mind. He was evidently waiting for me, and greeted me with the words, “I did not see you yesterday.”
“No, “I replied," you were not conscious of my presence; though I stood by your bedside you did not see me. But I have been crying to the Lord for you.”
He fixed his eyes upon me, and with tears streaming down his cheeks, he cried in agony of soul, literally smiting upon his breast, " God be merciful to me a sinner "This he repeated twice.
“Thank God,” was my response," that you have taken your true place; now God can meet you, and will assuredly save your soul.”
I then brought before him how the publican, after uttering that cry once, went down to his house justified; referred to the one cry of the thief on the cross, also that of the jailer at Philippi; and how God answered each and all,—showing how the finished work of Christ was the ground upon which He could and did meet them. We looked at Romans 3:20,20Therefore by the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified in his sight: for by the law is the knowledge of sin. (Romans 3:20) " Therefore by the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified in his sight." W— had abundantly proved the truth of that scripture, his doings had utterly failed.
And now the glad tidings contained in the following verses were most welcome to his ear, as I dwelt upon " being justified freely by his grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus; whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past,... that he might be just, and the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus.”
Still he could not then grasp the fact that he was justified; the Spirit of God was deepening the work of conviction, and giving him a fuller sense of what he was by nature; striking contrast to his previous self-vindication!
And thus I left him, after asking that the God of all grace would speak peace through His own word to this troubled conscience.
Fifth day.—When I arrived at W—'s, and was shown into his room on the morning of the fifth day, I at once saw the change that had taken place in him; the anguished look of the previous day was replaced by one of rest and peace. He held out his hand to welcome me, and grasped mine with a fervor which I could not help contrasting with the reception I had met with during the first two days I visited him, especially on the second clay, when he had actually scowled at me as I broached the subject then so distasteful to his ear; now it seemed as if he could not welcome me warmly enough. He pointed at once to the foot of his bed, where a large sheet of paper was hanging; on it were printed in large typo, the words of that beautiful hymn:
“There is life in a. look at the Crucified One,
There is life at this moment for thee;
Then look, sinner, look unto Him and be saved;
Unto Him who was nailed to the tree.”
With a smile he said, "Isn't that beautiful?” And added, as I was reading it, "And I have got it.”
"How have you been since I left you yesterday morning?”
“Happier and happier!”
“Then you are now like the publican who went down to his house justified." "Yes," he replied, and then told me that during the hours he was lying in a state of unconsciousness as to all around, not even recognizing his own wife, all the sins of his past life were brought before him; deeds and words that he had long forgotten passed in review before his mind. These facts were evidently brought to his mind by the Spirit of God, whose work alone it is to convict man of being a sinner; and this He had been doing with W—. It was when consciousness again returned to him, during the night of the third day, that the terrible fact that he was a lost sinner, beyond the reach of self-recovery, dawned upon his soul, and from that moment was more and more deeply impressed upon his heart. And it was this conviction which had drawn forth that agonized cry with which he had greeted me on the previous day, but which had changed ere I left him into a ray of hope, dim indeed, and scarcely able at times to rise above the despair that he had at first manifested, but struggling with it, and showing the first budding of that God-given faith which sees there is mercy for the sinner with Him. How wonderfully it had grown and ripened, during the hours which had elapsed since I had parted from him, will have been already seen.
The scriptures we had gone over the day before, had been applied by the Holy Ghost with great power to his soul, and, as he expressed it, had been an immense comfort to him. “Last night was the happiest I ever spent in my life 1" was his testimony. He got brighter and brighter, and that in spite of still continued suffering. Then I asked him if he had any hope of recovery. He replied, “No; and I have only one regret—that my life has been a blank; “adding that he had no desire to live, save to make known to others the love of God, which he had so abundantly proved. We spent some time in thanksgiving to Him who had so manifested His love to this ransomed soul, rejoicing together in the sure prospect of meeting in the Father's house, should he have departed ere I could see him again. We were not to meet again on earth. But this brings me to the
Sixth day.—As I neared the house on the following morning and looked up at the window, I saw that the blind was lowered, and that prepared me in some measure for the tidings which greeted me on the threshold: "He is just gone." On inquiring how W— had passed the night, I was told he had spent the greater part of it in prayer for his wife and family, none of whom as yet knew the Lord. Then as the moment of his departure drew near, with eyes fixed upwards, he uttered three words—JESUS— PARDON—PEACE"—and was gone. He had found in the One who bears that blessed name this twofold blessing.
Reader, have you? J. S. L.