« AnteriorContinuar »
She burst into tears, exclaiming, with broken heart, "Oh, I am such a sinner!" I saw the big tear fall upon her dress, and said, "You are just the one whom Jesus came to save, for He came to save that which was lost."
She knelt down to pray. At first she did not kneel, until I touched her, and asked her if she would not do so. This she did very readily, and I felt encouraged to take her in the arms of faith, and carry her to Jesus.
Prayer was offered for her—yes, and answered immediately. We rose from our knees. I asked her if she had given her heart to Jesus. She answered, unhesitatingly, "Yes." I asked her if she could now go on her way rejoicing. Her reply was, "Yes;" and a brother afterwards remarked to me that she left the room with a smile upon her face.
I saw her, some weeks afterward, and inquired how she was progressing spiritually. She said, she had not had a doubt.
At the time of the anniversaries, in May, in course of conversation with Rev. Dr. Chickering of Portland, whose church she had formerly attended, she related to him some portions of her religious experience. She had heard so much of doubting in the remarks of professing Christians, that she feared there might be something wrong in her experience, as she had no doubts. That godly minister (oh, that there were more like him, to encourage the young converts !) remarked, "It is not necessary, in order to be a Christian, to have doubts."
I have seen her, from time to time, during the past year, and always with her face heavenward.
A letter received a few days since from her will, perhaps, best conclude the record :—
Bostos, March 8, 1853.
Deab Sir,—I feel that I cannot write anything suitable for publication; but, hoping that you may draw forth some fact which may encourage some one who is still doubting, I send you these lines.
I had been taught, from my youth, to pay due respect to things of a religious nature; to read my Bible, to attend Sabbath school, to repeat the prayers which had been taught me; and, as I grew older, to express my petitions to God in language of my own. But it was too frequently, alas! the mere utterance of words with little meaning, forgetting that I was addressing Him upon whom we are dependent for all our blessings, and who has suffered so much for us that we might be saved.
About two years and a half ago, I first became interested in the subject of religion, while attending Dr. Chickering's church, in Portland, being at that time a member of Mrs. Chickering's Sabbath school class. One of the first things which drew my attention to the subject was the Christian example of my teacher, whose inward light seemed to shine forth in all her acts and words.
After my removal to Boston, I lost my interest, for a while. But, last spring, I attended several meetings at the Old South Chapel, where I heard many tell what the Lord had done for their souls.
One morning, an old lady who sat next me, asked me if I loved my Saviour. She told me she should pray for me. All day I thought of the old lady's question, and I trust my prayers that night were more earnest than ever before. The next morning I went to the inquiry meeting. Several gentlemen came to me, urging me to go forward, to be prayed for; but I was stubborn, and refused, and was tempted to go away; when you, my dear friend, came and talked with me, shewing me the way so clearly, and repeating those lines,
"Just as I am," &c, &c,
that even then, when my heart was filled with so much wickedness, I began to hope that even I might be pardoned.
When I arose, after several had prayed for us, I felt that my sins were forgiven. As I walked home that morning, my step was fighter, and I felt that my burden, like Christian's, had fallen off. Many told me that it would last but a short time; but the peace that came to me on that April morning still remains. May I ever continue steadfast in the faith! May I ever be grateful to you, who was instrumental in leading me to Christ; and may you be the means of pointing to others the way to heaven!
Will you pray for me? May I always be a Christian, not only in name, but in thought, word, and deed!
The following communication has been sent to the editor:—
A Husband Converted.—For some years I had been labouring and praying for the conversion of my dear husband, but as yet saw no hope of his giving his heart to the Saviour. Often, when I tried to converse with him about his soul's salvation, h« would turn the subject with a playful joke; sometimes his reply would be, "I always try to do about right, and I do not think that I am going to be lost while I do." My faith and hope were beginning to fail me, when, taking up a daily newspaper, I saw a report of the week-day prayer-meeting in Boston. Surely, thought I, the millennium is at hand, and my dear one will now be brought into the fold of Christ. I prayed and laboured for him with renewed hope and courage. On Saturday evening, the 6th of last March, I addressed him, with all the earnestness that my love for his immortal soul could prompt, to put off the day of repentance no longer. That evening he expressed for the first time a hearty desire to become a Christian. The following week I urged him to attend the prayer-meeting at the Old South Chapel. But he could not leave his business, and he would not be seen, as he afterwards said, going to a prayer-meeting in the day-time. The next Sabbath he seemed much affected by the services of the day. Anxious that his impressions might be deepened, I asked him to go to the prayer-meeting in the evening. But he declined, saying he did not like to leave me alone. I then said to him, "When will you attend to your soul's salvation? Why do you put it off?" He quietly closed the book that he was reading, and said, "I do wish you would not talk to me; it does no good;" and then resumed his reading. I said no more, but went to the mercyseat, and left his case with God. This was the last time that the subject of religion was unpleasant to him. The next morning, when he first awoke, he told me he wanted to seek the Saviour until he found Him, and that he should go to the prayer-meeting that day. He went, and also on the following day, without much apparent change in his feelings. I feared that his interest might wear away; and on Wednesday morning, after he had gone in town, I penned a little note, requesting prayers in his behalf. I went to the Old South Chapel, and, as the people were passing into the morning prayer-meeting, I handed the note to a gentleman, and went away. When I arrived at home, I found him there before me. He met me at the door, and, with tears streaming down his face, said, "Oh, what must I do? I am undone! I am entirely broken down! What
must I do! Rev. has been in, and talked and
prayed with me, but no comfort came to my soul." He told me that he had been to the noonday prayermeeting, and it was there he was led to feel deeply his lost condition without a Saviour. All his former trust in his own goodness had failed him, and he had no hope left. He was almost in despair. I asked him if there was a request of a wife for the conversion of her husband read at that meeting. "Oh, yes," said he; "was it you who sent that note? It was that request, and the prayer that followed, which completely broke me down." He said he was willing to give up everything for Christ. I told him that as Christ had long been waiting with outstretched arms to receive him, He was ready now, and there was no reason why his peace should not be immediately made with God. We knelt down together, and, after offering a fervent petition for him, he followed me in prayer, making a full surrender of himself, and all that he possessed, to Christ. When we arose from our knees, his whole countenance beamed with light and joy that was dawning upon his soul.
"Why," said he, "I believe the burden is gone. I think Christ has accepted me; I am happy, very happy;" and so he continued constantly, as he said, growing brighter and brighter. That night our family altar was erected, and from it ascended the incense of gratitude from hearts overflowing with joy and thanksgiving. The next morning found