IT is now little more than three years ago that I first saw, and became acquainted with, the subject of the following short narrative.
Charles B— was living then in Edinburgh, and had but a short time previously married a young girl in whom I was much interested, and, for her sake, as well as for his own, I spoke to him concerning his soul’s salvation.
He was a fine frank young man, and although not anxious about his soul at the time, seemed impressed, and listened with deep attention to all I said. I was very hopeful about him, yet the time passed and he did not decide for Christ. Soon after this, he and his we went to live at Broughty Ferry, and I saw no more of him till the following circumstance occurred.
On the day following Christmas Day, 1877, I awoke in the morning with a violent headache which I feared would quite unfit me for anything during the day if it continued. The weather was piercingly cold., and I had been suffering from a cold for several days previously, so that altogether I felt so unwell that about ten o’clock I sent a post card to a friend, a short distance from Edinburgh, with whom I had promised to spend the afternoon, saying I did not think I should be able to keep my engagement. Very soon after my card was posted, my headache left me and I felt comparatively well. I rather wondered why I had thus been permitted to break my appointment, but soon I saw God’s hand in it all.
A little later in the day a young Christian called, bringing me a letter from his mother, in which she implored me to go at once to the infirmary and see her son-in-law, Charles B—, who was lying there dangerously ill.
I, of course, said I would go, and set out directly.
This was at the very hour, when, but for my severe headache in the morning, I should have started for my friend’s house.
The day previous, the writer of the letter had passed the whole day in earnest prayer and supplication for the soul of her son-in-law; and while thus praying, it was laid upon her heart to send for me. In her earnestness she was in great distress that she could find no one to bring me the message that day, and then it seemed almost as though the Lord rebuked her unbelief, for the word in Micah 4:99Now why dost thou cry out aloud? is there no king in thee? is thy counsellor perished? for pangs have taken thee as a woman in travail. (Micah 4:9), was brought forcibly before her mind, “Is thy counselor perished?”
More night she felt she had got the answer to her prayer from the Lord, for He gave her this verse, “Fear not... thy words were heard.”
These particulars, however, I knew nothing of, when I first went to see Charles B—, I only knew that he was very ill, and that his relatives were deeply anxious about him, both as to soul and body.
When I reached the hospital the nurse told me he was in such a critical state that I must only speak to him for a very short time; this of course I promised. Never did. I more feel the solemn responsibility of my position, the responsibility of delivering God’s message of salvation to a soul who might so soon be in eternity.
Little more than a week before, the sick man had been in perfect health. He was then engaged as railway guard in the goods department. While in charge of a train some of the wagons had gone off the line, near Riccarton, and, in endeavoring to get them right, he received a crushing blow, producing severe internal injury, which in less than three weeks caused his death.
He was in a state of intense bodily suffering when I found him, his head moving from side to side on his pillow, and his eyes rolling with agony, but quite conscious. He recognized me immediately, though it was so long since I had seen him. My first words to him were, “Charles, are you saved?”
He said, “No,” but, with a look of intense earnestness, and, grasping my hand tightly, he added, “but, oh! I want to be saved; I want to come to Christ,” I could but contrast in my own mind this scene, with the time when I had last spoken to him about his soul; then in the full vigor of youth and strength, he had put off decision for Christ. Now it was of the utmost moment to him to know he was saved.
I read to him from John 3, showing him that we must be born again, and our Lord’s own explanation of how we get this new life, as given in the 14th, 15th, and 16th verses of the chapter, “And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the son of man be lifted up: that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life. For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
How blessed it was to be able to tell him he had nothing to do but to turn his eye in simple faith to the One lifted up on the cross for us, and eternal salvation was his, even as the serpent-bitten. Israelites of old were healed the instant they looked to the serpent of brass, lifted up, by God’s command, in the wilderness.
Turning then to 1 John 5:11Whosoever believeth that Jesus is the Christ is born of God: and every one that loveth him that begat loveth him also that is begotten of him. (1 John 5:1), I read to him these words, “Whosoever believeth that Jesus is the Christ is born of God.” He listened eagerly, and I went on to tell him that, instead of God looking down on us as a severe judge ready to condemn, His word to us now is, “Come now and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet they shall be as white as snow though they be red like crimson they shall be as wool.” I give him also the beautiful promise in Rev. 21:66And he said unto me, It is done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely. (Revelation 21:6),
“I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely,” and this further word, “Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.”
“Freely,” I said, “means gratis, it is for nothing, and now Charles, Christ’s part is the giving, your part is the taking. Do you believe He is willing to give it to you now?”
“Yes,” he answered.
“Then do you take it now?”
“Yes, I do.”
Do you believe that “the blood of Jesus Christ, his Son, cleanseth us from all sin?”
“Yes.”
“Then Jesus says, ‘Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me hath everlasting life.’ Have you everlasting life?”
“Yes,” was once more his reply. His voice was low from intense suffering and weakness but very earnest. I then repeated to him four lines, written by a medical man, who was converted on his death bed, which had been already blessed to several souls—
“In peace let me resign my breath,
And Thy salvation see;
My sins deserve eternal death,
But Jesus died for me,”
Slowly and emphatically he repeated every word of the last two lines after me. It just seemed as though light had flowed into his soul with every verse of scripture I had read.
Truly “the entrance of thy word giveth light.”
I prayed with him shortly, and though his suffering at the time was at its height not a groan crossed his lips, nor was there a movement from him all the time I prayed. My parting words as I left him were, “Then you are His in life or in death?” and he answered “Yes.”
About ten o’clock that night his sister-in-law came from Glasgow to see him. She came for the purpose of speaking to him about his soul.
Her first words to him were the very same as my own had been, “Charles, are you saved?”
“Yes,” was his reply.
“How was it?” she asked, “and when?”
He was too weak to explain fully then, and just mentioned my name.
“But, Charles,” she said, “have you the word of God for it?”
“Yes,” he said, “it is all settled. Miss— told me that God says, ‘Though your sins be as scarlet they shall be as white as snow.’”
Little by little he told her all this, as he had strength to speak a few words, between the paroxysms of intense pain.
Hardly believing for very joy and wonder, his sister-in-law said again,
“But are you quite sure?”
“Yes ... Jesus died for me ... . ‘God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son ... .that whosoever believeth in him ... . should not perish,’ ... . and I am the whosoever.”
“Then have you no doubts?”
“None, for Christ says ... .. ‘Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that heareth my word ... ..and believeth on him ... .that sent me ... .hath everlasting life.’
His faith was firm and unwavering, for it was based upon the word of God, and his sister-in-law left him rejoicing.
I saw him again two days after, and found him still in terrible suffering, but peacefully resting on Christ.
Once more, in the following week I saw him, but could only speak for a very few minutes with him, his weakness was so great, and he was ordered to be kept quiet, but his rest of soul was unbroken.
On the 4th of January, his young wife sat up with him through the night, for the last time. In the middle of the night he complained of being very cold, and sometimes his mind wandered, but for the most of the time he was quite conscious. Once she asked him if there were anything she could do for him—he said, “Yes, pray with me,” which she did. He then prayed, and commended her and their two little ones to the Lord, and seemed to have such confidence that the Lord would care for them.
The next morning his mother-in-law came again, and she and his wife both sat with him until the end—repeating a passage of scripture or a verse of a hymn to him, as he was able to bear it.
As they were thus sitting he suddenly brought up a great quantity of blood. He and they alike knew that now death was near, and his wife asked him if he would like to recover?
His answer was, “No, I long to be with the Lord.”
A few hours before he died he was lying very still, so much so that his wife who was repeating a hymn to him stopped, saying to her mother, that she thought he was asleep, when suddenly he who was so weak that it seemed as if he had scarcely a vestige of life remaining, sprang up in bed, and raising his arms, clasped his hands above his head, and sang, in a loud clear voice, like a person in perfect health, pronouncing each word slowly and emphatically
“Safe in the arms of Jesus,
Safe on His gentle breast,
There by His love o’ershaded,
Sweetly my soul shall rest.
Jesus my heart’s dear refuge;
Jesus has died for me,
Firm on the rock of ages
Ever my trust shall be,”
Clearly the words came out, and he specially dwelt on the word “firm.” It was the more remarkable because no one had ever heard him sing before.
The effect in the ward was indescribable.
It was almost as though a man from the very grave itself were sitting up singing.
His friends told me they longed that many could witness the scene. Death seemed robbed of all its sting, and instead of the darkness and gloom of the tomb, it was a bright triumphant entry into life.
Besides the verses quoted above, he also sang two other lines, the original of which crew
“I am coming, Lord, coming now to Thee,
Wash me, cleanse me in the blood
That flowed on Calvary,”
but which he altered thus—
“I have come, Lord, I have come to Thee,
Thou hast washed me in the blood.
That flowed on Calvary.”
When Charles had ceased singing, his mother-in-law repeated to him—
“The hour of my departure’s come,
I hear the voice that calls me borne.”
“Oh! that is so sweet, so sweet” he said, interrupting her at the end of the second line.
They then spoke to him of his own family and friends, and he said, “I shall never see them again on earth, but tell them that I am with the Lord. I have one brother that is the Lord’s, but tell them all to meet me in glory.”
They asked him repeatedly had he no doubts, no fears? “No,” he said, “none, it is all peace; I am longing to go and be with the Lord. When do you think it will be? Do you think it will be today?”
His mother-in-law repeated to him Psalm. 23, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.” And she said, “It will not be dark, Charles.” “No,” he said, “for Jesus will be with me in it.”
From this time (about 3 p.m.) till he died, which was about 8 p.m. the same day, he wandered a good deal, but every moment of consciousness he spent in prayer; and about ten minutes before he departed, he clasped his hands, and his lips moved as though still praying, and while thus speaking to the One who had sought him and found him and saved him, he fell asleep and entered into His own bright presence, leaving his loved ones rejoicing in the midst of their deep sorrow, as they witnessed that, which it was impossible now for their sorrowing hearts to call death, but rather “life begun.”
The triumphant joy of that closing scene seemed to lift those to whom he was most dear above the agony of parting, as they looked forward with the certain hope of soon again meeting the one who, during the short period of his knowing the Lord, had given such a bright testimony to Him who had loved him and died for him.
It is at the earnest request of his wife and friends that this brief account has been written.
They assured me that the Lord had given them the strong conviction that these things had happened, not for his sake only who had departed to be with the Lord, nor for those of his family who were left behind, but also for the sake of his old companions, specially those employed on the railway, men whose lives are necessarily exposed to constant danger, and who may be called, as he was, in the midst of life and youth to leave this scene for an endless eternity.
To such, and any others yet without Christ, who may read these pages, may he, being dead, yet speak, and say, as with a voice from that unseen world of intense reality, “Behold, now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation,” for God says, “He that being often reproved hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroyed, and that without remedy.”
J. D.