BORN of a most devoted and Christian mother, it was at an early age that the Lord first spoke to my soul. I could not have been more than six years of age, when, during a severe thunderstorm, I was greatly terrified and thought that the end of the world had come; so falling down upon the ground, I cried bitterly. The fear of God came upon me, and a dread took possession of me, lest I should have to meet Him, but as the storm subsided so my fears subsided also.
During my schoolboy days no very deep impressions were made upon me, except on one occasion, when about eleven years of age. I was then taken by my parents, one Sunday evening, to witness what to me as a most solemn service held in a large chapel in the East of London. It was to behold a great number of God’s dear people partake of the Lord’s Supper, my beloved mother being one of them.
My stepfather (for my father died when I was very young) not being at that time a decided Christian, sat with me in the gallery as a spectator. Deeply was I impressed as I looked down upon that favored company, and the more so as I beheld a young man of about eighteen years of age, who was then, for the first time, remembering the Lord Jesus Christ in his death, a privilege sweetly enjoined on all those who love the Lord. “This do in remembrance of me” (Luke 22:19, 2019And he took bread, and gave thanks, and brake it, and gave unto them, saying, This is my body which is given for you: this do in remembrance of me. 20Likewise also the cup after supper, saying, This cup is the new testament in my blood, which is shed for you. (Luke 22:19‑20))
As I looked young man, but a few years older than myself, I felt as if I would have given worlds, had I possessed them, to have been in his place among God’s dear people that evening. But I was conscious of my unfitness, and the distance of my soul from God.
It was not until some seven years after this incident that the Lord again graciously spoke to my soul. This time it was while I was pursuing my own self-willed way, full tilt for the world and all its unsatisfying pleasures, as I afterward found them to be.
I had for my bosom companion and friend a cousin that I greatly loved. Jonathan, methinks, did not love David more than I loved this young man. We were one in heart and thought, but he was thoroughly in the world, immersed in the gaieties of life which at that time just suited me. True, he regularly attended church on Sundays, a church where the clergyman was a most godly and faithful servant of Christ. Many a time have I accompanied my cousin there, and heard faithful and solemn appeals from that dear man’s lips. Frequently he preached to young men, in whom he took a great interest, but no lasting impressions were made upon me, though I felt and assented to the truth I heard.
So weeks and months passed by as we together sought to enjoy as much of the world as we could. But a dark cloud passed over us, and a great sorrow came upon us. The health of my beloved cousin began to fail, and it soon became evident that we must part. He consulted an eminent London physician, who ordered him at once to Australia. So in a few weeks he left our home, where he had resided, being an orphan, and sailed for Melbourne.
None but those who have passed through the grief of such a parting can tell what a sorrow this was to me.
Plunging yet more and more into the gaieties of this world, I joined a dancing academy and a literary institute, hoping that I might find something wherewith to fill my poor sorrowful, empty, and dissatisfied heart.
During the time I frequented the former an attachment sprang up, but God blew upon this, and, like Jonah’s gourd, my hopes were withered. Thus did God, quite unconsciously to me, deal with me, being shortly about to bring me to a knowledge of Himself.
It was at this point in my history that He spoke to me one evening, and that most distinctly while I was in the enjoyment of the giddy dance. So clearly did He speak to me at this time, as to the vanity of this passing scene, that all pleasure was taken away and I felt sick at heart. Although the season was not yet ended, it was ended that night for me. Never could I go again, but continuing my connection with the literary institute, I attended the lectures and entertainments, until these also lost their charm, and became wearisome, my soul longing for something that would give me true pleasures and lasting happiness.
Well can I remember on one occasion while still a youth I was taken by my parents to the Crystal Palace, thinking to give me a happy day, but little did they know the thoughts of my poor heart. So keenly did I then feel the vanity of all that I saw there (though as yet I did not know Christ) that, slipping away from them, I retired to a quiet spot to meditate on the vanity of these things and sigh for something I, as yet, knew not of.
In course of time the Lord so ordered it that I attended the ministry of a very godly servant of the Lord, a most faithful preacher of the gospel. Under his preaching I became more and more deeply concerned about my soul’s eternal welfare, and being at that time in delicate health I became the more anxious; and one night after I had retired to rest, fearing that I should be eternally lost, I was crying bitterly, when my beloved mother, hearing the distress of my soul, entered my room, entreating me to tell her the cause of my grief. All I could say was, “Oh, mother, I am going to hell, I am going to hell, I know I am.” She sought to comfort me as best she could.
These exercises continued more or less until a moment came, when under the preaching of the beloved man of God, of whom I have already spoken, the precious Saviour spoke to me again. Never shall I forget that hour as I listened to the preaching of the cross of Jesus. Jesus Christ Himself was evidently set forth crucified before me. I thought I could see Him on that cross of agony and shame. He seemed to fix His eyes upon me. It was a look of love, and yet of sorrow. I felt He was grieved with me. But it was the grief of love, for I felt He loved me, but was grieved with my poor sinful, wayward heart. How could I stand that look, it seemed to charge me with His death. A deep pang wrung my soul as I thought He was dying for me, yet keener still did I feel it, as I was conscious I had no love for Him. This thought quite broke me down, causing me much grief.
Then I felt, oh that He were now on earth that I could go to Him, and tell Him all ‘my grief. But how could I go to Him seeing that He is in heaven and I upon the earth? If He were only on earth, how quickly would I seek Him, and falling at His feet, would cry for mercy.
At last the auspicious hour came, that never-to-be-forgotten night. It was a Lord’s Day evening, when the same dear preacher that had so sweetly and powerfully portrayed Jesus crucified before me, preached again. The Lord evidently guided His servant to that verse in Heb. 13:8,8Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to day, and for ever. (Hebrews 13:8) “Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and today, and forever.”
This removed my difficulty, for this precious word assured me that whether yesterday on earth or today in heaven He was ever the same—the unchangeable Jesus. When He was on earth, He graciously received all who came to Him, giving this precious assurance that “him that cometh unto me I will in nowise cast out.” So I was assured that if I came to Him He would receive me.
Deeply anxious to have the question of my soul’s salvation settled that night, as soon as I was able to slip away from the family circle I retired to my room, and falling upon my knees by the bedside, I poured out my soul to Him, praying and crying to the Lord to save me, saying in my anguish, “Lord, if Thou dolt not save me I shall be lost forever, and if I am lost it shall be at Thy feet trusting Thee.” Much more in my distress did I pour into His compassionate ear, in that night of soul-agony and distress, but at last, calmly trusting the precious Saviour, I retired to rest, saved and satisfied.
Never shall I forget the morning that followed. I awoke with my soul bursting with joy in my newfound Saviour. Everything seemed changed: the sun appeared to shine more brightly, the birds sang more sweetly; but these had not changed, it was I who was changed, being born again not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the Word of God which liveth and abideth forever (1 Peter 1:2323Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which liveth and abideth for ever. (1 Peter 1:23)).
But though I had such joy I had not as yet learned “that in me, that is in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing.” I had not settled peace, neither had I learned that my “heart was deceitful above all things and desperately wicked” (Jer. 17:99The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it? (Jeremiah 17:9)). For weeks after this I was harassed with doubts and fears, until one day as I was walking past the Royal Exchange in the City of London, it seemed as if a voice spake to me and I heard these words― “For we walk by faith, not by sight.” This was as if a flood of light entered my soul.
I saw from that moment that I had been looking within to find some good thing, instead of to Christ who had saved me, and had become my life, and who alone could sustain me in the path of faith, as it is written, “By grace are ye saved, through faith, and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God” (Eph. 2:88For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: (Ephesians 2:8)).
In Mark 5:24,24And Jesus went with him; and much people followed him, and thronged him. (Mark 5:24) the Lord said to the poor trembling woman, “Daughter, thy faith has made thee whole, go in peace.” From that moment I saw it was not the question of my feelings or of any good thing in me, but of the grace of God, and through that grace I was enabled to “go in peace.”
Now I must tell you that up to this time I had not with my lips confessed Christ. This I had refrained from doing, fearing lest I might backslide, or after all that I might only prove to be a hypocrite. Thus I kept all the blessing I had received to myself, not even communicating the blessed joy I had to my beloved mother. However, one evening as we sat together by the fireside, I felt I could no longer keep the joy of my salvation to myself.
With tears of joy I told her that I now loved the Lord, also how and when I was converted, and that now I wished to live for Him. She immediately replied, “You need not, dear Edward, tell me that, for I have seen it already, and have noticed for some time past the great change in your life. I knew you were the Lord’s,” adding, “Often have I prayed for you when you were a little babe in my arms, and when I saw you going more and more into the world, I deeply grieved over it, but I felt sure the Lord would answer my prayers.”
May the Lord graciously bless this simple narrative of His dealings with a poor self-willed sinner, once gaily treading the broad road that leadeth to destruction, to the blessing of many who, at the present moment, are thoughtlessly treading that same road, so that their feet may be turned into the narrow way that leadeth unto life.
And may it encourage many a praying mother and many a praying father to pray on for the recovery of their poor wayward, wandering boy, being confident that God is faithful and will answer those prayers.
E. M.