THE old soldier of whom I write was a quiet retiring man, and his words were few. In his youth he had fought in the Crimea, and remembered well the eventful day of “the charge of the six hundred,” for he was in the artillery, and served the guns which protected the shattered force of the daring riders returning to the English lines.
The carnage of that day appeals to the civilian, and on one occasion, as Blain was telling the tale, someone asked him if he had any fear then. His answer, given in the quietest manner, was, “I did not know what fear was.” The notion of fear had not entered into the soldier’s character; his one thought was to do his duty.
It happened that amongst his friends, there was one who asked Blain to accompany him to a mission hall. The preacher took for his text these words, “What shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul?” (Mark 8:3636For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? (Mark 8:36).)
“That night, for the first time in my life,” said Blain, “I found out what fear is. I was afraid, yet not for death: I was afraid for my soul.”
Yes, one question, asked by Christ, and recorded in the Word of God, and made effective to the human heart by the power of God the Holy Spirit, opened the eye to eternity and to sin, and changed the soldier altogether. He had been a most honourable man, but he had lived up to that hour without God, without Christ, without hope in the world, and without the fear of God, which is the beginning of wisdom.
In His own good way God brought Blain to the knowledge of Christ, in His suffering on the cross for our sins, and in His risen glory in heaven, and he feared no more for his soul.
“It is well, it is well with my soul.”
he sang from his heart.
The old soldier obtained a situation in a humble capacity in a London house of business, and he did his duty there as he had done it in the Crimea. In the highest form that the expression may be used, the old artilleryman “stuck to his guns,” for he was often ailing, and hardly fit for his labour. He adorned his humble service by the excellence of his performance of his duty. Whatever was entrusted to him was well done, unobtrusively and modestly. And more, this good old servant sought occasions for the expression of the love of his heart, and when the one whom he served was in delicate health, found time in the hours of work to bring the nourishment ordered by the doctor, and always to the moment. Never once did the good old soldier fail as the attentive nurse.
Thus for some ten years did the quiet old soldier adorn the doctrine of His Lord and Saviour! His Christian life blossomed with the flowers of divine grace. Let it not be enough for us that we are saved by Christ, and that it is well with our souls; let us so live Christ that we may adorn His doctrine.
Hearing that Blain was ill, and not likely to recover, a friend went to see him, and found him unable to lift his head upon his pillow.
The old soldier’s end was near, and he was at rest under the blessing of his God.
“I am glad to see you, sir,” said he to his visitor. “I am glad to thank you before I go, and, more; to thank God that I ever heard that text in the mission hall. I feared for my soul that night, but now I have no fears left.”
After a pause, he said thoughtfully, “I am ready when He calls me, ready at any hour,” and then he caught himself up, and fixed his dying eyes on his friend’s: “I will not say at any hour, I am ready at any minute.”
The old soldier and his friend shook hands, prayed their last prayer together, and bade each other farewell.
Early next morning the Master’s call came.