"He told us to go to Christ. He would save us from all our enemies."
"If he would but take me; but oh, he wont; he wont! I've been too wicked ever to expect that," and hiding his head under the clothes, he cried aloud. Frank succeeded in persuading him to take some medicine, which the attendants could not do, because he thought they meant to poison him. He was calmer before Frank left.
Thursday, July 9th.
Last evening, my dear husband hurried through his calls, and took Mr. Munroe with him to see poor Thomas. He found him so exhausted by the violence of his fits, that, unless soon relieved, he cannot live long. The agony of his mind makes him much worse than ever before. When they went in, he had fallen asleep, and they sat down quietly to wait until he awoke. Frank says, as he sat by the bed and looked at the miserable man, so haggard and ghastly, he prayed that God would have mercy upon his soul, even at the eleventh hour.
When Jones awoke, he stared around him a moment, as if trying to remember where he was, while the Doctor quietly liberated his right hand, with which he immediately covered his face. After he had taken some gruel, he sighed, but would not speak.
Frank told him Mr. Munroe had come in as a friend to see him. He suddenly pulled away the clothes, and said, "No, he'll mock me! He knows how wicked I am! The last time I went to meeting he told over all my sins. He knows I can't be saved, and he'll only mock me." Here the poor creature burst into loud crying.
Mr. Munroe moved nearer, and took Thomas's hand in his; "My poor friend," said he, in a very gentle voice, "It would ill become me, a sinful creature as well as yourself, to make a mock at one for whom Christ died. I have come to remind you of his love, of his desire for your salvation. He has knocked at the door of your heart again, and again, and you have turned away from his pleading voice. Will you?—dare you turn from him now? When the Holy Spirit is striving with you, will you resist his gracious influence?"
He was interrupted by loud sobs, and Mrs. Jones, whom they had not perceived, hastened from the room, holding her apron to her face. Thomas had not noticed the interruption, but was looking so intently at Mr. Munroe that the Doctor almost feared the excitement, and placed his fingers on the brawny wrist.
But our good pastor perceived the workings of the spirit, and hoped and prayed that peace and joy might take the place of the dark despair which was killing body and soul.
No one spoke, but still Thomas gazed. His whole mind was filled with wonder. At length, he gasped, rather than spoke, "I will, I will receive Him as my Saviour, but oh, it is too late!"