ON a fine afternoon, some years since, two men were walking together from the town of N― to the neighboring barracks; the one, a young man of about twenty, his companion, whose bronzed visage told of long residence in warm climes, was more than twice that age.
The elder man was a tall, erect, broad-shouldered man, who evidently was “every inch a soldier.” He wore the uniform of a color sergeant in the —the Regiment, and on his breast were medals telling of many a hard won fight. He had a resolute face, which, when in repose, looked almost stern, but which often lighted up with a bright smile, and could even wear a tenderness almost womanly in its aspect when its owner’s heart was stirred with kindly emotions. It was a face calculated to claim the attention of all passers by, as these two held converse by the way. In reply to some question of his companion he said: “Do I believe in the Lord Jesus? Indeed I do. No man has more reason for so doing.”
“I am glad to hear that, for in the Service it is a hard matter for one to declare one’s self on the Lord’s side.”
“That is true. Soldiers are, as a rule, out and out on one side or the other. When a man kneels in the barrack room, and gets a boot thrown at his head, it is apt to make him decided. He either, by grace, resolutely faces persecution, or pockets his faith and denies his Master. In the former case he becomes a firm Christian, persecuted but respected; in the latter he is dragged, an unwilling captive, at the heels of his godless companions, and heartily despised. It generally takes a pretty heavy stroke to break down a soldier, and bring him to the feet of Jesus.”
“Was that so in your case?”
A look of sadness passed over the soldier’s face; evidently sorrowful memories had been touched. It was but for a moment; quickly recovering himself he said, in a low tone: “I will tell you about it. You are young, and it may serve to strengthen your trust. I entered the Service more than twenty years since. A wild youth, eager for adventure, civil life had no charms for me. As soon as the first excitement consequent on the fresh surroundings had faded, I felt disappointed. Barrack life, and the routine of ordinary garrison duty grew irksome. There were no stir ring events, and pretty nearly ow our only excitement was an occasional outbreak of debauchery. After a time our regiment was ordered out to India. This was decidedly a change, and I enjoyed it for a time; but I am sorry to say change of scene did not bring change of habits. I had learned to drink deeply, and the fiery arrack, easily procured from the natives, told heavily on my constitution. Strange to say, I did not get into trouble through drink, for I avoided it when on duty, and ‘generally managed to get to bed without being detected. One day I broke down, and was taken to the hospital, the fiery spirit had brought on an attack of delirium tremens; for a time life trembled in the balance, but, after a severe struggle, I recovered.”
“Did this lead you to repentance?”
“No; so blinded was I by sin and Satan that after six attacks of the same kind I was still an unrepentant sinner. No, the grace of God was working, and at times I felt my miserable position acutely; and, not knowing the depths of His mercy, I sought to rid me of my misery by drinking still more deeply. If ever a sinner was in a hopeless condition, I was that sinner. “At last there came the seventh attack.”
“Do you mean that you had seven attacks of delirium tremens? I thought men rarely survived the third attack.”
“God’s mercy carried me through dangers in battle, and dangers in camp. He brought me through the seventh attack. He only could have done it. This was the turning-point. After a very severe fit of delirium, I lay utterly prostrate as one almost dead. I heard the voice of the doctor say, ‘I believe this is his last; he won’t get over this one.’ Then the dreadful fact flashed into my mind that I hung over hell by the merest thread.
“That night was one of deepest agony! Men might and would say that I was wandering in mind, and that what I am now about to tell you was the mere phantom of a disordered brain. Let them say it — to me it was a living reality.
“I had been in a kind of half dreamy state for some time, when I woke to the full consciousness of my condition. The doctor’s words were ringing in my ears, ‘This is his last; he, won’t get over this,’ when suddenly a great horror came over me as from the bottom of my bed came a voice which curdled my blood:
“ ‘Yes, he is mine; it is too late to escape. He must be mine!’
“Oh, the horror of that moment! Hope fled, I was lost! Oh, the agony of my soul tongue could never tell! In the agony of my terror I heard another voice speaking from the head of my bed:
“‘Nay, but he is Mine. I have loved him and redeemed him. He shall not be thine.’
“I sank under a swoon, and with morning light the doctors, two of them this time, stood by the bedside. I heard them consulting together; they seemed surprised that I still lived. One approached me and, lifting my head a little, said, ‘Drink.’
‘What is it?’ I said. ‘A little brandy.’ ‘I will not touch it.’
‘You must, or you will die.’ ‘Then I will die, for I am resolved I will not drink.’
“A new-born hope was within me. I could not define it, but the words, ‘I have loved him, and redeemed him,’ were filling my soul with not only hope, but also with earnest desire to know the One who had spoken these words.
“God raised me, and I went forth, weakened in body and troubled in mind. I could not get rid of that scene, nor did I wish to forget it. If I ventured to speak of it to anyone, a look of pity came over his face and he would say, Ah, poor fellow! you were wandering. You must dismiss these dismal thoughts.’
“At last I was thoroughly miserable, and while walking in the town where we were quartered, I came to the old church. The door was open, and I stole in. Some kind of a service was going on; only a few people were there. I did not go with them, but quietly walked away to the other end; and behind a pillar, screened from all eyes but His, whose all-seeing gaze no one can escape, I sank on my knees. For a moment all seemed to be in a whirl, and then there came welling up the great, bitter cry of my heart, the great desire which had been silently gathering strength till it burst forth in resistless power:
“Oh, God, save me! Oh, God, reveal to me the One who said He had loved and redeemed me!’
“My cry was heard. I lost sight of self, the world and all beside. I was alone with God, and He brought before my soul the greatness of His love in giving His own beloved Son; the preciousness of the blood that ‘cleanseth us from all sin’; and by faith my soul sprang to the bosom of my Saviour, and was at rest.
“Let the world call the first delirium, and the latter fanaticism. To me they are both deep realities. In the first I found myself to be a hopelessly lost one; in the latter I found my Saviour. I rejoice in Him, I glory in His love. Nothing will ever persuade me that it was not a reality.”
“This is very wondrous, and I do not doubt but that God spoke to you. But just one question, Do you feel yourself safe because you had this vision?”
“No, no, I rest on the Word — God’s Word — which says, ‘Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on Me Hath everlasting life.’ I do believe and I am at rest.”
H. L.