WISDOM WITHOUT LEARNING
The following brief and simple account was communicated by the old woman, only six weeks before her death; and the few particulars added, relative to her last illness, it is hoped will not be unacceptable to the reader.
“There were no schools when I was young; so I never was taught to write or read. I lived for forty years as ignorant of religion as the cat. I feared neither God nor the devil. One Sunday evening I turned into a little Chapel in our village; I thought I would see what neighbours went there. I looked about me for a bit, quite careless of all the man said, till toward the end I seemed drawn to listen. The man was picturing out the death of our dear Lord, hanging on the cross. His hands and feet fastened by great nails, and blood running all down His body. Then he went on to say. Thirsty, naked, tormented; so He died. But who killed Him? It was you.’ and so saying the preacher looked full at me. ‘Yes,’ said he, ‘You did the deed.’
These words seemed to enter into my very soul. My sins came up to mind; no tongue can tell how I felt. I went out with the people, and returned home; but such a solemn weight was on my heart, that I could do nothing but cry. My eldest son asked what was the matter? I said, ‘I have heard such a keen sermon, it has cut me through and through.’ ‘O,’ said he, ‘if that’s all, you’ll soon get over that.’ But I didn’t. The words, ‘You did the deed,’ seemed bored into my heart. I could not get rid of them, day or night. Oh, how I prayed, and wept, and cried to God! For many months I went on in this dismal way, begging God to forgive me all my sins, which killed His dear Son. But no; He would not, and I could find no release. Sin
upon sin rose up, till they seemed far beyond pardon. Then my husband set upon me. Said he, ‘I’ll have you mad presently, moping like this about such stuff and nonsense. You shan’t go to that Chapel.’ But I was none the better for staying away. ‘So,’ says I, ‘let me go and hear something that may ease my mind; for I feel lined with devils.’ At this he was very angry, and terrified me; but my heart was so torn, I could not give in to him any how; so I would have my way; always saying the words that fixed on my mind, ‘You did the deed.’ Oh, the gloom, the trouble of mind, that hung upon me! I made sure I was the only creature that ever felt so. I asked one or two who heard the sermon, did they notice the words that stuck to me. But they seemed not to heed it; never gave it a thought even. I went on this way, in sore trouble, wanting nothing but the pardon of my sins.
One night, when lying awake all at once God broke in upon my soul. I saw nothing, I heard nothing; but such a divine feeling seemed to fall upon me, with sweet persuasion that Jesus had borne all my sins in His body when He hung upon the tree, I felt God was satisfied, and I was satisfied too. Oh, what a blessed night I had! It was heaven in measure. I expect heaven will be just like that night, turned into one long endless day. I arose in the morning, with a sweet peace in my soul, the fear of death and hell all gone, and the love of God shed abroad in my heart by the Holy Spirit.”
Here the old woman ended her simple history; and a few weeks after she was seized with the illness which closed her earthly course. Being visited by a friend when she was first taken ill, who inquired how she felt in her soul, she replied, “Very quiet; too quiet.” “Not so,” answered her friend. “This is the fulfilment of the Lord’s own words, “Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee.’ ” “That’s true, “said the old woman; “but I want a bright shining – something to cheer up this dying bed. I want the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. I hope I’ll have something different to this quiet before long.” “Perhaps you may not,” answered the friend. “Very likely God may put you to sleep in this quiet, peaceful way; and what a mercy He does not give the enemy leave to break out upon you with doubts, and fears, and horrors, about death.” “Ah, that puts me in mind of my prayer long ago,” said the old woman, with a look of bright intelligence. “I prayed God would chain up the old enemy when it came to the last, and not let him terrify my soul. Why, for sure, he is a-doing it now.”
A few days after this, she said, “I want to die so badly. I want to have done with this leprous, sinful old body, that has been a trouble these forty years. I long to get rid of sin.” It was asked, “Do you sin now?” “Ay, every minute – every breath. I be all sin. I want Jesus as much as ever I did.” It was put to her. If any one came to see her now, and told her she must do something toward salvation, and it rested with her to persevere and hold out to the end, what would she say now? She rose up in her bed very deliberately, and leaning for support on her right arm, said, “I must go to hell. I can do nothing now any more than at the first. I can’t hold out and persevere. No;
Jesus must do it all, and He will too. He loved me before I was born, and He loved me all the time I hated Him. He washed me from all
my sins in His own blood, and He will take me to heaven. I have no
doubt about it, because it is His own work – not mine; no praise to
me. I want more love, more shinings; but I know I am safe. He will
be my guide even unto death. But if He said, ‘Do this,’ or ‘Do that, and I will be thy guide,’ what in the world should I do now? What
could I do? Ah, He must do all. He picked me out, and passed many a better woman by.” She paused a moment, and then added, with deep feeling, “Oh, I was not worth His notice. I was not worth being
picked out and picked up – a poor, ignorant, sinful thing like me; and if He had not made it all plain, I could never have understood it,
for, certain! But ’tis He has taught me, and I have good reason to
love Him.” Part of the 17th chapter of Chronicles being read to her,
she made a few remarks, especially on the 16th verse, which seemed
to suit exactly the frame of her mind. On another occasion, the 3rd of Joshua being read to her, she made her own application of the
account of Israel crossing the river Jordan. “That’s my case now,” she said. “I am in the river of death. I am crossing to the heavenly
country.” It was asked, “And is Jesus the true ark in the middle of
the river?” “Ay, for certain He is,” said the old woman, with much
animation. “I should be quite downcast if He weren’t and Satan would terrify my poor soul.” It being remarked she had no fire, and
it was bitterly cold, she said, “Poor things, they do the best they can
for me. Polly is a good child, and they are all very kind to me. They
lighted me a bit of fire, but it went out; and it is no odds, for it is old
age that makes me feel cold. My other daughter that I came away
from is much better off than Polly. But I preferred to come here, for
there it was the world, and chatter all day long; here I be quiet, and
can talk to God alone, and I want for nothing else.” Returning a
tract that had been left her, which contained a narrative, she said, “I
don’t like tracts that have so much of this world in them. Let me
have one all about Jesus, and my soul’s concerns.” Upon one
occasion, the passage being repeated, “Behold the Lamb of God,
which taketh away the sin of the world,” it was observed to her that
the Jews understood the word world to mean Gentiles, and not, as
‘ some make out in our day, every person in the world, “To be sure
not,” said the old woman; “Jesus is a true Saviour, a real Saviour. If
He died for them and then let them go to hell, why who could count
on being saved at that rate?” The 7th of Romans being read to her,
she said, “Oh, how plain, I can follow the in’s and out’s of that
chapter. Paul and I have felt like that.” The week before she died
she was in a very depressed state of mind. A neighbour, who was a
Wesleyan, called to see her, and began talking to her about perfect
love, and sinless purity. She listened for some time, and at last said,
“Well, I be very dark, and very wicked; that’s all I can say; but Jesus
is mine just the same,” The day before her death, she suffered
intense agony, and could scarcely speak, but, making a great effort,
she said, “Oh, what could I do now, but for Jesus?” It was asked,
“Has God favoured you with any bright shinings you desired?” She
repeated, “no” twice; and then slowly moved her hand backwards and forwards, as if to describe the even state of her mind, adding, “Quiet, and happy sometimes.” On the morning of the day she died, her sufferings were painful to behold. She was asked, “Is the enemy kept away?” She waved her arms backwards, and then, as if fearful the movement would not be understood, she said, “It is the body – the body.” It being observed, that Jesus could feel for her, as He knew what it was to die, she clasped her hands in token of assent saying, “I have no fears.” A bystander remarking how restless she was, she looked very significantly at her, and said, “I have got my resting-place in Jesus.”
Two hours before her death her pain subsided; she retained a calm intelligence to the last, and dropped asleep in Jesus, without a sigh.
Gospel Magazine