The Irish Evangelical (Belfast) recalls an incident in the labours of this witness of God’s power to save the basest sinners and make them polished shafts in His hands. Mr. North belonged to what we call the upper classes, and having plenty of money and boon companions willing to share it with them he soon found himself in the “far country,” feeding upon husks. The incident referred to in the foregoing may be quoted with the The Irish Evangelical Witnesses’ introductory note:—Brownlow North, who was born at Chelsea in January, 1810, was the son of the Rector of Alverstoke and grand-nephew of Lord North, a Prime Minister of George III. After a wild and riotous career he was brought under deep conviction of sin, and in November, 1854, was converted to God. He became a powerful preacher of the Gospel and his name became a household word throughout Scotland. He died at Bothwell in March, 1904. Among other incidents he tells the following:
On one occasion, just as he was entering the building in Inverness where he was to preach, a note was put into his hand, the contents of which were somewhat as follows:—”Brownlow North, you miserable
hypocrite. Do you remember what took place at — on such a date; also at — on such a date, and the part you took on each of these occasions? Details of what did happen were given, and then the letter concluded:—‘Now you wretched hypocrite! you know that every word in this letter is true; will you, after reading it, dare to go into that pulpit and rant and rave and preach what you call the Gospel?’
Poor Mr. North felt the force of the letter keenly, but he put into his pocket, and when the time for his address came, he read the familiar words: ‘This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.’ He paused, and then, with deepest feeling, added, ‘of whom I am chief.’
‘My friends,’ said he, ‘when I entered this building to-night, a letter was put into my hands. I do not know the writer, but he is evidently one who knows a great deal about my career in the past. This letter charges me with participating in scenes of riot, and excess and wantonness. Dear friends, there are three things that I have to say about this letter:—First, it is all true. Would to God that I could undo the past, but that is beyond the power of even God Himself. God knows it is true, and I confess with sorrow and shame that it is true. And the second thing I have to say is, it’s all forgiven. God knows it is forgiven, and I know it is forgiven. And the third thing I have to say is, if God, for Christ’s sake, can forgive the sins of such a sinner as Brownlow North, there is not a sinner in this wide world too great for God to forgive all his sins.’
There were few dry eyes among those present as he uttered these words with the most intense feeling.
The story of this remarkable man is not so well known as it once was. So outstanding were the fruits of his labours that the General Assembly of the Free Church commissioned him as an unordained evangelist. The story of his conversion told in his own words may be quoted as it may be unknown to many of our readers. This is the account given in his biography: “It pleased God in the month of November in 1854, one night when I was sitting playing at cards, to make me concerned about my soul. The instrument used was a sensation of sudden illness which led me to think I was going to die. I said to myself, ‘I am a dead man; take me upstairs.’ As soon as this was done, I threw myself down on the bed. My first thought then was, Now, what will my forty-four years of following the devices of my own heart profit me? In a few minutes I shall be in hell, and what good will all these things do me, for which I have sold my soul? At that moment I felt constrained to pray, but it was merely the prayer of the coward, a cry for mercy. I was not sorry for what I had done, but I was afraid of the punishment of my sin. And yet still there was something trying to prevent me putting myself on my knees to call for mercy, and that was the presence of the maid servant in the room, lighting my fire. Though I did not believe at that time that I had ten minutes to live, and knew that there was no possible hope for me but in the mercy of God, and that if I did not seek that mercy I could not expect to have it, yet such was the nature of my heart, and of my spirit within me, that it was a balance with me, a thing to turn this way or that, I could not tell how, whether I should wait till that woman left the room, or whether I should fall on my knees and cry for mercy in her presence. By the grace of God I did put myself on my knees before that girl, and I believe it was the turning-point with me.
I believe that if I had at that time resisted the Holy Ghost—of course, I cannot say, for who shall limit the Holy Ghost?—but my belief is that it would have been once too often. By God’s grace I was not prevented. I did pray, and though I am not what I should be, yet I am this day what I am, which at least is not what I was. I mention this because I believe that every man has in his life his turning point. . . .”
On the following day he announced publicly to his friends staying in the house, and to others by letter, that from that instant, he had become a changed man, a resolution to which, in the strength of the Saviour, he was enabled to adhere.