Then, who should come next but Mr. F——­, a quiet man of few words.  He had thoughts, no doubt, but kept them all to himself.  He came gliding into the room, as the vicar had done, sat on the same corner of the bed, leant against the same post, and in ’the quietest way possible repeated the same words, “Now or never!”

“Do you hear him?” said the poor distracted man to his wife—­“do you hear him?”

“Hear him?  Hear what?  No! nonsense!  What does he say?”

“My dear, there! listen!”

“Now or never!” said the quiet man.

“There, did you not hear that?”

“No,” she said, “I can hear nothing,” and began to cry more copiously.  He got up, and said he would take the poker and punish every one of them—­that he would.  The strange visitor made for the door, and, like all the rest, said, as he disappeared, “Now or never!”

The poor churchwarden continued in a most distracted state, and during the day met all his three visitors who had caused him so much anxiety—­“Paul Pry,” the vicar, and the quiet gentleman, none of whom looked at him or spoke to him as if anything had happened; but when he heard me say over and over again in the pulpit, “Now or never!” pointing, as it were, to the ghostly pendulum swinging there saying, “Ever!—­never!” and inquiring of the people “Do you see it? do you hear it?” it seemed to bring matters to a climax.  He said he turned and looked at the wall to which I pointed, and almost expected to see that solemn clock.

I did not wait to hear more, but kneeling down, I begged him to close with the offer of salvation “now.”  “No,” he said, with a sigh, “I am afraid I have refused too long!”

“Don’t say so! take it at once, ‘now;’ or perhaps it will be ‘never’ with you.  A man does not often get such a plain warning as you have had.  You had better take care what you are doing.  ‘Now!’ why not ’now’?” He did accept salvation, and yielding himself to God, received forgiveness of his sins; and after that became a very different man.

He had, as may have been suspected from the above narrative, the besetment of drink, before his conversion, and it remained a trouble to him after.  Conversion and forgiveness of sins do not put away present bad habits.  Such a master habit as this requires a direct dealing with.

Zaccheus was a man who had been led astray by the love of money; when he was saved, he put his idol away from him at a stroke.  This is the first thing to be done; and if it is done in the power of one’s first love, it is a more easy task than afterwards.  But it must be done with a firm and whole heart; not “Lord, shall I give the half of my goods to feed the poor?” but, “Lord. behold, the half of my goods I do give.”  “Behold, Lord, I do give up the world here, now.”  “Behold, Lord, I do here, and now, give up drink, anti will totally abstain from it henceforth.”  This is the first step; and the next is not less important, and that is to