ONE fine summer afternoon in the year 1849 a company of five, my only brother and I being of the number, took a ramble from the town of Eastbourne over the downs to Beachy Head. Everything to be seen and heard was calculated to fill the mind with thoughts of the power, the wisdom and the goodness of God. The ocean waves were rolling in from the British Channel and breaking on the shore beneath us. The sea view included the fishing boats in the offing, and farther away were to be seen the outward bound and homeward bound ships. Looking landward, we could discern the farm homesteads, the cottages, the waving corn, the cattle in the meadows and the flocks of sheep on the downs; while seagulls and landbirds contributed their share to the charms for ears and eyes. Thus we extended our ramble to very near the highest point of this celebrated headland, and then turned again with our faces towards home.
We were still upon a high portion of the cliff top when a circumstance occurred to divert the attention, and although it had engaged my notice, so it was that I turned my head in an opposite direction and, with considerable alarm, I noticed that my dear brother was drawing very near to the edge of the cliff, indeed, he was but two or three paces away from it. I therefore said to him “E—, do you see where you are going?” Truly alarmed at the danger of his position, he at once turned away from the cliff edge and rejoined his companions, while we all, with hearts solemnized by thoughts of the peril he had been in, continued our homeward walk.
What a voice, dear reader, this true narrative has for you and me. It would be difficult to imagine more charming and delightful scenes or healthy occupations than were ours on the afternoon referred to, and yet how suddenly were these pleasures threatened with the most distressful termination. It was by having his attention drawn away to something else, that his thoughts were diverted from the dangers which were so near to him, that my brother was nearly involved in their realization; and it is thus that the Bible bids us to flee to the Almighty Saviour, who died for our sins. and rose again for our justification, who is the sure refuge of all who put their trust in Him. Let me, then, ask you in the same spirit as I put the question to my brother:— “Do you see where you are going?”
Many who read these lines have probably wandered over the same ground, and I trust the poor description above given will enable all to. realize the circumstances sufficiently to enable them to appreciate the moral which they convey.
At the time referred to neither my brother nor I was able to say we knew the joy of the Lord’s salvation, but six years after, God in His mercy gave to each of us this unspeakable blessing, and the following year my dear brother was called away from the scenes of this life to be “for ever with the Lord.” As I write these words I recall one of his last utterances. A Christian friend had called to visit him on his bed of sickness, and while speaking to him, the servant appeared at the bedroom door bearing a phial of medicine and saying, “The doctor has sent a composing draught.” At this moment the friend was uttering the name of Jesus and my brother looked up at him, saying “That is the best composing draught.” Yes,
“Jesus can make a dying bed,
As soft as downy pillows are.”
T.J.