HEALED SOUL AND BODY.
IN 1863, just after the fall of Vicksburg, I visited the hospitals in Helena, Ark. Going into a large ward one day, filled with sick and wounded soldiers, I saw in the farthest corner of the room a very sick man. I noticed him the more because he was looking towards me, and there was upon his face such a look of agony and despair as I had never seen on any human face before, and I trust I may never see again. I said to the surgeon, who had stepped in with me,—
“You have one very sick man here.” And when I designated him, he answered, “Yes, he is almost gone; poor fellow, he’ll not live long.” I said no more,—my heart was too deeply touched,—but went directly to him. As I approached his cot-side, I said tenderly, “You seem to be very sick, my friend.” The look of agony deepened in his face as he answered,—
“My friend!I have no friend. I am here dying among strangers, and nobody cares whether I live or die.”
“Oh, don’t say that. You have many friendsin the North;” and I was going to say, “I’ll be your friend,” but I remembered how empty such a profession of friendship would be on the part of a stranger, and instead, I said, “There is aFriendthat sticketh closer than a brother. Can’t you make Jesus your friend in this dark hour?”
When I spoke the name of Jesus, he cried aloud,—
“Oh! would that Jesus were my friend; but I am a great sinner.”
“But Jesus is the sinner’s friend.”
“O lady! you don’t know what a wretched sinner I am, to what lengths of wickedness I’ve run, or you would not think that Jesus could save me.”
But I answered, “You don’t know what a great Saviour we have, or you would not doubt. He is the mighty God, and he is able to save to the uttermost; and that means thathe can save you.”
“It is too late. It is too late!” he cried with such bitterness of soul that the men lying upon their cots—brave young men, who bore in their own persons the marks of their heroism—covered their faces with their bedclothes, and wept like little children.
But I urged that it was not too late, and commenced telling him of the thief on the cross; but he stopped me.
“Oh, I know about the thief on the cross; but, lady, I am a thousand times worse than the thief on the cross.”
“If you wereten thousand times worse, Jesus could save you; for he can save to theuttermost.”
These words gave hope, and he exclaimed, “Pray for me!”
I knelt by his cot-side; and while he prayed and I pleaded, “the opening heaven around us shone,” and the mighty power of saving grace came down upon his soul.
The tempest was stilled, and all waspeace. I looked up into his face to see, that in a moment—as it were, in the twinkling of an eye—all the lines of despair had been taken out of his face, and that it was beaming with joy; a joy unspeakable, and full of glory.
If I had been an infidel up to that time, it seems to me that I should have been convicted of the truth of Christianity in that presence.
There were many witnesses to that scene; and it was as though the Master would show his mighty saving power, forhe healed that man soul and body. My secretary was with me. Three days from that time I found him on the shady side of the house reading the Testament I had given him the day before. The same look of peace and joy was in his face, as he said,—
“Oh, I am so happy this morning! I have afurlough, and I am going home. How glad myChristian mother will be to know that I have found salvation.”
“Young man,” I said, “wherever you go, remember that you were snatched as a brand from the burning.”
“I can never forget that. My disease and despair were crushing me down. I must have died if salvation had not come just then; but when youspoke the name of Jesus, I knew you were a Christian, and that you would help me if you could.”