"Yes, sir," said the merchant,' "this book is my book of life. It is my consolation,. my support, my hope. When my last hour comes I will meet it calmly, resting upon the certainty that I have made a good use of the talents which God entrusted to me. Yes!
In this book rest all my hopes, both for this world and the next!”
The words were spoken confidently, and almost triumphantly. At least, so it seemed to the Christian visitor, who was sitting in the merchant's office and listening with much surprise and grief.
"If you were to read it," he continued, "you would find some names in it that would surprise you. But I have never shown it to any one, for it contains the secrets of others. This book is a record of all the services which I have ever rendered to anyone. It is secured from every eye except my own, for I keep it in this box, of which I alone have the key. And then, take a look at the inscription.”
The visitor glanced at the writing on the cover, and read these words: "To be placed in my coffin without being opened.”
"I would like to ask," the visitor said, "if in those moments which come to us all, when conscience rises up to accuse us, and we feel we are guilty in God's sight, do you then find that anything in this book can give you peace? Does it lead you to believe yourself pardoned and justified before God?”
The merchant leaned over, and laid his hand upon that of his visitor. "Sir," he said, "if this book had not power to give me peace I would burn it, and never give another halfpenny to the poor. Yes, I know that I commit sins; I have my faults, like everyone else. But this book reassures me.
When I look it over I feel that my account stands well, and that there is sufficient recorded in its pages to make all my faults and sins be forgiven and forgotten.”
Years passed by, and the merchant was dying. He sent a message to his friend, begging him to come to his bedside, which he gladly did. As the visitor entered the room, what should he see lying on a table beside the dying man but the register of his good works.
"It will be a relief to me to confide in you before I leave this world," said the merchant. "It was hard to give up a delusion which I have treasured for thirty years. But the veil was torn away, and there was revealed to me the utter worthlessness of this book which I had so prized.
"Imagine," he continued, "what would have been my state if I had ended with this thought: I have labored for myself, and have received my reward. But I saw that, far from having atoned for my sins by my good works, those very works were in themselves full of sin, and that I was a lost sinner, in danger of eternal death, and with no power to save myself. And then, for the first time in my life, I felt my need of a Savior, and I thought of Him who 'though He was rich, yet for our sakes He became poor, that we through His poverty might be rich' (2 Cor. 8:99For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might be rich. (2 Corinthians 8:9)). Now I treasure in my heart those words which once were so distasteful to me:
`By grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God:
It is not your hold of Christ that saves you, but His hold of you.