The
following instance of conversion appears, in my judgement, to be so
remarkable, that I think it my duty to record it in writing, for the honour of
God, and profit of immortal souls:
Yesterday,
between the hours of one and two, a poor man of this parish, whose name is
James Watts, and to whom, before that moment, I was an entire stranger, came
to my house, and entreated me to go and pray with his daughter, who lay at the
point of death, assuring me that she was quite sensible, though almost
speechless. Immediately I found in my heart a reluctance and unwillingness to
comply with his request, which I perceived to arise from hence: that I have
often been sent for by hypocrites in times past, for no other purpose but to
repeat over a few prayers (as they say) by their bed-side, from which they
vainly hoped to receive the same benefits as the blind Papists do from extreme
unction. I took that opportunity of talking very seriously to the man about
his own soul. He received what I said with apparent meekness of spirit, and
told me he had been under some concern about eternal things (and more
especially his daughter had) ever since the death of his wife, which happened
four or five months ago. He then left me, and I instantly followed him to his
house, but O! how great was my astonishment and
sympathising anguish of heart when they admitted me into the chamber of the
sick woman. Such a scene of distress I never saw before, so solemn, so gloomy,
so grievous to behold, that it transcends all powers of description. Her body
was emaciated and dried away. Sorrow had drunk up her blood, and her visage
was so marred, that she appeared to be of an advanced age, and from whence I
really concluded that the man had made some mistake in calling her his
daughter; but yet she was no more than twenty-eight years old. Her head lay
reclined on a pillow, and on a chair by the bed-side there was an open
Testament, into which she looked with a wishful eye. I now addressed myself to
her, and asked with much tenderness a question or two concerning her spiritual
condition, and in order to know what sense she had of her guilt, I dropt a
word now and then concerning the covenant of works, and the woeful state of a
soul that launches into eternity without a saving interest in Christ. I
evidently saw that her heart was almost broke with despair, and that every
syllable I had uttered was like vinegar poured into her wounds.
Her
language was extremely affecting. “Oh!” cried she, “what shall I do
without a Christ? How can I die without a Christ? Oh! that
I had never been born – that I had never seen the light of the world –
will not Christ save me – will he not receive my poor soul? Oh! he
hath forsook me – Christ has rejected me – Oh! what
shall I do – whither shall I fly – How can I ever bear the torments of
hell?”
These
are some of the expressions she used, and which were uttered with such a
dismal tone of voice, such vehemence of elocution, wildness of look,
convulsion of the eyes, and distortions of the body as I believe were never
yet equalled by any actor on the stage. Indeed, I seemed to myself as if I were
conducted to the mouth of hell, and there caused to look in upon its wretched
inhabitants. But I must observe by the way that when I first addressed myself
to her, her tongue faltered very much, and scarcely anything she said was
intelligible, though her bodily gestures showed what she felt – but as her
grief swelled higher, her efforts to speak increased proportionably, and what
she uttered became more articulate. When I had been in the room about a
quarter of an hour, and was satisfied concerning her inward state and
condition from the fore-mentioned circumstances, I thought it high time to
refresh her wounded spirit, with those healing medicines which the gospel of
Jesus Christ affords. Accordingly I selected three comfortable passages of
scripture, and recommended them to her immediate attention, viz. “The Son of
Man came to seek and to save that which is lost. Being justified freely by his
grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus. Whosoever will,
let him take of the water of life freely.”
At
the first she seemed not to regard it at all, upon which I asked her if she
was not thoroughly sensible that her soul at present was quite in a lost
condition; which she having declared in the affirmative, according to her
nervous manner of expression – why then, said I, the Scripture assures you,
that the Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which is lost. I moreover
added a remark or two on the freeness of grace, telling her that every
privilege and blessing contained in the gospel was at this instant hers, upon
her believing in the Lord Jesus Christ, and that there was an efficacy in our
Saviour’s blood to wash her guilty soul, and to make it as white as snow.
She then raised herself upon the bed, waved her meagre arm from side to side,
and seemed by her look and gesture, as if she actually saw the person of her
Redeemer with her corporeal eyes, crying out with the uttermost earnestness of
desire, “Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.” In short, at the first moment
until now she resembled one of the distracted inhabitants of Bedlam. But she
was not long held in suspense; presently her Beloved hastened to her relief,
yea, and on a sudden He came leaping on the mountains and skipping upon the
hills – the day broke, the sun arose, and the shadows of the night fled
away. As the lightning shineth from the one end of the heavens to the other,
so was the coming of the Son of Man. “Oh,” said she, “He is come;” and
clapping her hand to her breast, said, “He is come, I find Him here; Jesus
Christ has received my soul. Lord lettest now thy servant depart in peace,
according to thy word, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation. Oh, the joys
that I feel, the joys of heaven itself, such as no tongue can express” –
with a few more words that I cannot recollect. She then burst forth into a
triumphant hymn of praise, which I was unacquainted with, concerning the
spiritual Jerusalem, the blessedness of the saints above, and the certainty of
her own admission among that happy number; all which she sung with lively and
rapturous emotion, whilst heavenly smiles adorned her countenance, and her
very eyes sparkled with undissembled joy. I asked her father and those present
if she were accustomed to sing, and they answered no, and were surprised
beyond measure. I asked her where she learned that sweet hymn. She said in her
little hymn book; but what she meant by that none could inform me. She then
sung again, with which we were all so deeply affected, that we were quite
drowned in tears. It was then impressed on my soul, that the Lord had made me
abundant recompense for the little reproach that had been thrown upon me in
the public newspapers last Monday, the thought of which so overwhelmed my
faculties, that I almost fainted, and I could not help wishing that every
infidel in the land had been present on that occasion, inasmuch as they would
have been furnished with an infallible demonstration of the truth and power of
the gospel promises, and though they might not have been converted, yet they
must have been confuted. After this she insisted on our kneeling down to pray,
when I, according to my poor manner, lifted up my feeble voice to the Lord for
this marvellous instance of his loving kindness. Upon our rising up, she
desired me to give her my hand, and grasping it with both of hers, she
astonished us again with another hymn; in which she poured forth her ardent
thanksgiving to Christ Jesus for having sent me to be the messenger of glad
tidings to her guilty soul, and that I was born to be the instrument of saving
many lost sinners, and that now from her example none need to despair. When
she had ceased singing, she spoke out again in the raptures of her redeemed
soul, saying, “That Christ was her beloved, her shepherd, her Lord and her
God – that he had washed her in his blood, and reconciled her to the
Father,” &c.
She
called for a Bible. I directed her to the 23d and 27th Psalms. She read them
out with such a volubility of tongue and eagerness of spirit, as if she did
even eat the words, plainly showing that her soul feasted on the delicious
manna. She frequently paused as she went along, to tell us that she claimed
the privileges therein recorded; and when she had done, she laid down the
book, saying, “It is all mine.” She then desired that her neighbours might
be called in, to rejoice with her, saying, the lost sheep was found, and she
would tell them what great things the Lord had done for her soul, and, what is
a most amazing circumstance, every thing she now uttered was in verse, in the
measure of eight and six syllables, which sung to the same tune as before, and
into these lines she introduced many of her neighbour’s names, with an
account of what she intended to say to some of them in particular, and all
this with an entire freedom and readiness as was inconsistent with
premeditation, and could not cost her a thought; and it is remarkable, that
one of the neighbour’s names was a woman with whom she had no acquaintance,
but a woman that, in my opinion, is the most eminent Christian for divine
wisdom, ardent zeal, undaunted courage, deep humility and tender affection
that I ever conversed with, and who for this reason bears a greater burden of
reproach than all the rest of the believers in the parish besides. Whilst her
father, in persuance of her request, was gone to call in the neighbours, she
exhorted them who were present, especially a young girl, with great
earnestness, to mind the concerns of their immortal souls, on which occasion
she denounced the terrors of the Lord to the unbelieving and disobedient, and
gave them a description of the solemnity of judgement, which, partly in prose
and partly in verse, was taken from the 25th of Matthew. She spake of the
torments of the damned in a manner exceedingly awful, solemn, and majestic.
What they felt I know not; but to me it was quite awful, and perhaps I never
had before so lively an idea of that last and most tremendous scene. Her
nervous expressions, dismal tone, look, air, and gesture, bespoke her
the trumpet of inexorable justice. When Mrs T–– entered the room,
she looked at her with a wistful countenance, and said, “Come in thou
blessed of the Lord.” Others came in presently after, but she did not say
much, her spirits and strength being quite exhausted. As I saw her so weak and
fatigued, I advised her to compose herself to sleep, and withdrew. I returned
to her in the evening, and found some believers in the room. She immediately
said to me and Mrs T., as before, “Come in thou blessed of the Lord.”
I
asked her how she was, and she answered with a most harmonious voice, O angels
wait around my bed; and added something more concerning the goodness of the
Lord, who had sent to her by me, &c. Upon inquiry, I found she had slept
almost the whole afternoon, not having closed her eyes the former night, and
had been talking about heavenly things to those that were present, to their
unspeakable amazement; but she was not quite so lively now, having again lost
much of her strength. Feb 4th, I saw her to-day. She was in great bodily pain,
and so extremely weak, as not to speak many words at a time; but her heavenly
looks and triumphant smiles showed that her hope was still full of
immortality; and I found that the continual burden of her lips during my
absence had been either, “My eyes have seen thy salvation,” or else,
“Come Lord Jesus, come quickly.” I asked her if she still found the Lord
to be her God. She could not answer, being almost suffocated with phlegm in
her throat; but she cast a look so languishingly sweet, as if, with Stephen,
she beheld the blessed Jesus standing on the shore of eternity to receive her
departing soul.
On
Sunday morning, February the 6th, she fell asleep in the Lord. Glory be
to thee, O Lord Most High!
Reference
“HISTORICAL
COLLECTIONS OF ACCOUNTS OF REVIVAL,” compiled
by the Rev. John Gillies, D.D., 1754. Published by The Banner of Truth Trust, 1981. pp 526-528.
