"I'm Greatly Concerned About Your Soul."

Transcribed from the c1890’s Jarrold’s edition by David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org
NORWICH CHEAP TRACTS. No. 42.
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?”