SCARLET fever was raging in the town and Benjamin’s strong manly frame was the first to succumb to its ravages. Mark nursed him as tenderly as a woman, read to him from his treasured volume comforting words of life: how that "Christ his precious dust would take and freshly mold." Mark too gained knowledge for himself, and each day he was lost in wonder in contemplating the love of his Redeemer. The beautiful truths expounded by St. Paul dawned on his yearning soul, how that Christ would come Himself into the air and receive His own, to be forever with Him; and now that Mark was seeing his friend passing from him, he was conscious of the fact that he would meet him again—that to the Christian to be absent from the body was to be present with the Lord.
The time came for his friend's departure, but ere his happy spirit took its flight he left a bright testimony behind in that Jewish household that was never effaced. The wife of David D'Israeli was a devoted attendant on her sick guest, and listened in secret to the reading of those wonderful words of life. She did not openly confess the Savior, however, till on her deathbed.
Benjamin and Mark had one evening strolled down a quiet street and heard singing: they stopped and listened, and the words of the following hymn resounded in the calm evening air:-
“How sweet the name of Jesus sounds
In a believer's ear!
It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds,
And drives away his fear.
“It makes the wounded spirit whole,
It calms the troubled breast;
'Tis manna to the hungry soul,
And to the weary rest.
“Dear name! the rock on which I build
My shield and hiding place;
My never-failing treasury, fill'd
With boundless stores of grace.
“Weak is the effort of my heart,
And cold my warmest thought;
But when I see Thee as Thou art
I'll praise Thee as I ought.
“Till then I would Thy love proclaim
With every fleeting breath;
And triumph in Thy blessed Name
That quells the power of death.”
This was the first time that words like these had ever reached their ears, and oh! how their hearts responded to every word. They turned into the building from which the sounds proceeded, and heard prayers offered from simple hearts to their Jehovah.
They went to this meeting two or three times. Benjamin had expressed the wish to Mark, that one of this little Christian band should bury him; and so it was. Only Mark followed the funeral cortege as a mourner. A chapter was read at the grave, and a hymn sung; and after prayer was offered, the body of Benjamin Alexander was committed to its last resting-place, until that day when those who sleep in Jesus shall be called forth.
Mark returned to the home of his host; but only for a few hours. David D'Israeli politely told him that he must at once leave his house, as only now did he know the faith of those whom he had treated as his guests. Mark was heavy at heart; he knew not what to do. There was a steamer to start for England in a few hours, so he at once set out for Paris, and arrived at the same hotel where, only a few short weeks before, he had been with Benjamin. He thought it right to go to his father's house. So after an unusually rough passage, he arrived once more in the great city, and was at last at home. Within an hour he saw his father, and told him the story of Benjamin's illness and death, and of his own fixedness of purpose in the belief of the Nazarene Isaac, seeing his purpose foiled, was in a rage. The zeal without knowledge for his faith led him to cast off his son—his only son, and to mourn for him as one dead. That very evening, Mark was ordered by his father to leave his home, and never to return; he should never see his face again in this world. He never did; but he did in another. This did not come unexpectedly to Mark; but what was only in expectation, came now with full force—a blow, the full strength of which he had never anticipated.
He stood trembling with livid countenance. At last he ventured to say:—
“May I see my mother?”
Not even this was granted. Not a coin was given him; not even the luggage that only a few hours before had been brought to the house. And now for the sake of his faith, my reader, this Jewish lad gave up home, father, mother, wealth, and luxury. He dared not lift his eyes. He turned to go; but ere he left the hall, he managed to leave on the library table the Testament that Benjamin had given him. Not many hours afterward, that book was taken up by Isaac, and put aside, but not destroyed.
Mark that spring evening descended the steps of his father's residence and went into an untried path, into an unknown future. Out among the seething crowd he passed, "alone in London," though in that city were all who were dear to him. Nothing had he in the way of luggage except his overcoat flung across his arm. He had, however, some gold in his pocket and that would last him for some time.
He walked along with a wonderful alacrity, strong still in faith in Jehovah Jesus. An unseen Hand was leading him. He had, too, an inward feeling of exultation (deep as the pang was to part from his friends) that he was suffering for Jesus, for whom his love was intensified day by day. The more he realized His love, the more it drew out from him. He felt, too, the presence of that unseen Hand, and a peace that he never could describe filled his soul. God's ministering angels were doubtless leading him; and if our eyes could be opened, as were Elisha's servant's, we should no doubt see, as it were, the chariots and horses round about the mountains of Samaria. Because miracles are not performed now, do not let us think for a moment that God has not ways and means whereby He can take care of His own.
Omnipotence hath servants everywhere.”
"He does the very best for those
Who leave the choice to Him.”