NORWICH CHEAP TRACTS. No. 42.
“I’M GREATLY CONCERNED ABOUT YOUR SOUL.”
In a small village in one of the Welsh counties, there lived an old Independent minister who was peculiarly blessed in being settled amongst a people who worked well with him, and did all in their power to lessen his labours. They were a prayerful people, and thought no work too arduous, and no sacrifice too great, which would bring honour and glory to the Saviour’s name. Whilst in this state of peaceful prosperity, the attention of this little flock was aroused by hearing of a new tenant, who had come to reside at a farm, two or three miles from the little village. In due time he was visited, but much to the astonishment and deep sorrow of the people, they found him to be very sceptical in his notions; nay, worse, he was all but an infidel. Great was their distress when they discovered this; they did all in their power to try and make him see the truth. Tracts, bibles, and many other books were sent; letters, and invitations to attend the chapel, but all of no use, he took no notice, and at last they almost gave way to despair, for nothing seemed to move him.
One night, after a public meeting in the little village chapel, Mr. S—, one of the members, went into the vestry to the minister and said, “Sir, what must we do for Mr. R— to make him see his danger?
“Nothing more,” replied the minister, “can be done; we have done all we can do, and now we must leave it in the hands of our Heavenly Father.” Mr. S— then went home, but felt that he had not done all he could, and would therefore try again. He retired to his own room, and paced up and down the whole night in great agony of mind. No prayer would escape his lips, but with his hands convulsively clasped and his head raised to heaven, he inwardly wrestled with God in prayer for the conversion of his erring brother. The following morning he saddled his horse and rode off to see Mr. R—, who was busy at work in his fields. He dismounted, and after the usual salutations, stood for a moment gazing at him without speaking. He knew not how to say that which he had on his mind—he felt quite unnerved, the tears came into his eyes and rolled one after the other down his cheeks, but no words would come; at last with a desperate effort he exclaimed—“Sir, I’m greatly concerned about your soul.” Then as if he were ashamed of shewing his emotion he hastily mounted his horse and rode off without another word. Mr. R— stood motionless after seeing this outburst of feeling, repeating, “Greatly concerned about my soul, greatly concerned about my soul, then surely it is time I began to be concerned myself.” He went on with his work, and tried to forget what he had heard, but the words still kept ringing in his ears, “I’m greatly concerned about your soul.” He went home and occupied himself with books, and did all in his power to drive off what he considered disagreeable thoughts; but on they came, faster and faster, allowing him no peace. All that day and night, that important sentence was uppermost in his mind, and he lay tossing on his bed exclaiming—“Oh! why am I not concerned about my own soul?” As soon as morning dawned, he rose, and having breakfasted, went to the little village and called upon the minister. He related what had passed, and then said, “Oh sir, why am I not concerned about my soul, and yet others are for me?”
Minister. “Because you have never prayed to be made so.”
Mr. R—. “But will He whom you call God, answer the prayers of one who has never acknowledged Him all his life?”
Minister. “Yes, if you ask in faith, and for the sake of His Son Jesus Christ. ‘Seek, and ye shall find, knock, and it shall be opened unto you.’”
Mr. R— then left, but returned again in a few days saying that he had prayed earnestly to God to awaken him to a sense of his danger, and he was now anxious to devote himself to his Saviour.
Minister. “Do you believe in Christ?”
Mr. R—. “With all my heart.”
Minister. “Are you willing to give up all to Him if He should require it?”
Mr. R—. “Yes, all.”
Minister. “How can you account for this great difference in your feelings in so abort a time?”
Mr. R—. “After I had left you the other day, I still kept pondering over those words, ‘I’m greatly concerned about your soul,’ but still did not feel very anxious myself. I was more struck with the idea of a comparative stranger being so deeply anxious about what concerned me so little. But I thought of what you had said, and I began to pray. Suddenly a strange fear came upon me; I felt I was in danger, and needed some one to rescue me. I continued almost agonizing in prayer, ‘Lord, save, or I perish;’ and as I prayed, He who stilled the tempest, also stilled the tumult within my heart and gave me peace. I felt Him to be near unto me, and even as Jacob did, I wrestled for a blessing. I sought my bible, and then the whole plan of salvation became clear unto me, and now I want to begin to serve my Maker with all my power.”
Time passed on, and each day that once sceptical man grew in grace, and in the knowledge of his Saviour; he became an earnest disciple, and went about telling to the world around what a dear Saviour he had found.
There we see an instance of how much good we may be the means of doing, if we will only try. Seven words were the means of arousing that man. The most lengthy and eloquent discourse will often fail, but a few words spoken in love and with earnest prayer for their success, may pierce the hardest heart.
Unconverted reader! I’m greatly concerned about your soul. How do you intend to answer the questions put to you at the last day? How will you dare to say, I knew the way, but I would not walk in it? Do you ever think of the future? do you remember that there must be an end to your life, and that you must live again either in happiness or misery? Oh! stop and think; ere you leap the fatal precipice, pray for mercy! and remember that you may live without Christ, but how will you die without Him?
Let me tell you again “I’m greatly concerned about your soul,” and earnestly pray that our Heavenly Father will, ere it is too late, make you concerned about your own soul.
M. A. C.
Price 4d. per 100.—3s. per 1000.
4s. per thousand, post free, by Samuel Jarrold, Norwich.
