The Influence of Music
THE following incident has been sent us by a worker, who has been supplied with Scriptures for the soldiers and refugees: “I thank you for your letter and Gospels of St. John, which I have given in the Canadian Hospital at S―, and they were glad indeed to have them. One of the soldiers told me a most wonderful experience. They had all been under heavy fire, and after the battle they were relieved, and given five days to have a rest. In wandering about one of the villages they came to a church, and one of their number went to the organ and began playing the old familiar hymns. This attracted many, and the church was soon full of English and French soldiers. On looking round, the player noticed that nearly all were on their knees in tears. ‘No speaking to them could have done it,’ he said, ‘and I know it was of the Holy Spirit.’”
“God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform.”
Not Ashamed of Christ
Mr. Gray, of the Open Air Mission, writes: — “One young soldier who had accepted the Saviour went to his hut and begun to tell the men about it. He knelt at his bed to pray. When he got from his knees one of the men said, Why don’t you let us hear you pray? ‘Very well,’ he said, ‘if you kneel down, I will.’ The men knelt down, and in broken language, mingled with sobs, the young soldier prayed. There was perfect silence as the new-born soul gave thanks to God. What a testimony!”Are you ashamed of Christ?
The Dying Lad
The following touching incident is related by a worker: — “A lad lay dying with a badly smashed leg. The day before, all was going on well; then came a sudden change, and he had only a few hours to live. I asked if I should read to him, and he wanted to hear the words of Jesus. I read part of John 3 and 14, and prayed with him. Then he asked me to read his mother’s last letter to him. This morning his cot was empty, but I have a word of comfort for the poor mother that will make her heart glad even in her sorrow. Again this afternoon I found many men who seemed really anxious to know how they could know that God had or would forgive, or make them His children. This is where the Testaments come in so useful. One can put the Book into their hands, mark the passages most useful in their present state of mind, and get them to read and really pray for the Holy Spirit’s guidance. The work is full of encouragement, and I think the best work can be done from cot to cot.”
A Wonderful Incident
The following beautiful story was told me by a friend who heard it at a meeting: — Some of our troops, just a mere handful, were holding a trench in a very tight corner. They knew their case was a desperate one, and that it was absolutely certain they would all be killed, but they determined to hold out to the very end and die hard. A strange appearance in the sky caused them to look up, and several of the soldiers saw what seemed to them like a cloud of angels. At this moment the Germans fell back, and eventually the English saved their trench, and several of the enemy were taken prisoners. Some of these prisoners were asked why they fell back just when certain victory seemed theirs. The prisoners replied, “We saw a great ball of fire between your trenches and ours, and we could not go on.”
Truly God had sent His angels to deliver them — in answer to prayer doubtless. What a comforting and beautiful thought that God works today on behalf of His people. My nest incident will prove the truth of that.
Under Fire at Neuve Chapelle
The son of Christian parents in Exeter, a Christian himself, and to whom we send a large parcel each month, had a most wonderful mark of God’s preserving care shown him in the battle of Neuve Chapelle. He writes home and says, “No doubt you have read in the papers about our fight, at Neuve Chapelle, and have been worrying about it. Well, mother, first of all I must say that it is all Cud’s preserving care that I am still living... I have been stretcher-bearer and dispatch-rider since a week today, and have had a hard time. Six of us were stationed at a farm five hundred yards from the English trenches, and had been under terrible shell fire the whole time. All our six returned safe, but four of the other fellows were killed and six wounded in the same house, fellows with whom we had been working. The first shell pitched when we were lying on the straw, and altogether hundreds pitched around the house.
“I have been in the trenches each night, and have had many terrible experiences, but after all I am safe and sound, and uninjured, save for a slight graze on the knee where a piece of shrapnel just caught me there. The trenches were only fifty yards from the Germans.... We were lying down for a couple of hours’ rest in the farm, and were just thinking of getting up when a shell pitched in the house, killing one and injuring another in the next room to ours. The second shell pitched in our room, taking off a part of the roof and tearing down a piece of the wall. A piece of shrapnel cut through the haversack which was under my head and which I was using as a pillow; another piece smashed my water-bottle which was inside my haversack, and bullets passed through my razor strop and my flannel and nail brush, and I was not touched. I hope you are not worrying about me, because remember I am in God’s hands and He has guarded me through all the awful shell fire so far, and He will do so in the future, if ever I have to be in such a position again.”
The Little French Hero
He was a lad in the French Army. His people at home had never thought very much of him, and, when the news of war came to his little village, nobody said very much either way when he enlisted. If it had been the young marquis at the castle, of course, everyone would have said, “How brave of him to go to fight! How like his father he had grown! What a fine soldier he would make!” The fact that young Jean, who used to serve in the village store, was gone to be a soldier did not cause any excitement. His mother was sorry, because she knew that, although he was such a quiet lad, he was a real help. And the rest of the village soon forgot him.
Weeks went by, and very little news came of his regiment. But the French serving boy was showing that he had true courage, and his captain knew it, but, manlike, seldom praised him. They had little time in those grim days for praise, and seldom need for blame. Then the unexpected happened, and Jean was captured by a German regiment. He was taken to a farmhouse at the head of the main street of the village near which his comrades were camped. Little thinking that the French lad could understand their talk, the German soldiers planned to surprise the French regiment. They knew the French were shortly to march through the village, and by hiding their German soldiers they planned to surround the unsuspecting men, and surprise them by a swift attack. All this the boy heard, and his one thought was, “How can I save my friends?” He knew that if he gave the sign of warning he would be shot by his captors. But he knew also that it was very probable they would shoot him in any case.
He had not long to decide. If he could warn the first approaching French soldiers as they entered the village street it would mean their salvation. The farmhouse windows commanded a view of that road, and anyone calling loudly from them would be easily heard in the street. In his own mind the boy never hesitated. And when the first French soldier appeared at the top of the street, the boy rushed to the open window and called aloud in clear, ringing tones a warning to his French comrades that they were to be prepared for a German ambush. The few words of warning were enough. The French regiment prepared for battle, and the Germans were defeated.
But the warning given by the boy was not suffered to pass unnoticed by the Germans who had captured him. As he shouted to the French, they shot him down. Later in the day his countrymen turned to the farmhouse to see how it fared with their brave helper. They found only his lifeless body riddled with bullets. Despite the exigencies of war and the need to hasten on, his comrades waited that they might give him reverent burial. Quickly they made a rough wooden cross and placed it in the ground at the head of his grave. The name of the boy they did not know. They could carve no name above his grave, but they put these words upon the wooden cross―
“He saved others. Himself he could not save!”
And what finer tribute could be given to that brave lad? To help his comrades he did not hesitate to give his life.
There was One who hung upon a cross twenty centuries ago of whom these words were said: “He,” the Son of God, “saved others” — sinners such as you and me. “Himself he could not save.” “He died the just for the unjust to bring us to God.”
“Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved.”
Sunday with the Soldiers
In barracks, whilst talking to a company of bright young soldiers last March, I remarked to the sergeant of the guard, “It is very cold, almost cold enough for snow.” He replied, “I think not.” Judging by his speech that he was a Scotchman, I said, “Perhaps where you came from it is much colder, and you are used to it?” He said, “I come from Perthshire.” “Dear me,” said I, “it is a long time since I was there—1873.” “That was five years before I was born,” said he. Then the Spirit prompted me to ask if he was born again. Before I could get an answer he was called away. But one of the men followed me outside and said to me, “I don’t quite understand what it means to be born again.” “I will try and explain it. The first thing is to know that you are a sinner and that Jesus died on the cross for YOUR sins, and to believe in your heart that they were laid on Him” (Isa. 53:66All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. (Isaiah 53:6); 1 Peter 2:2424Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree, that we, being dead to sins, should live unto righteousness: by whose stripes ye were healed. (1 Peter 2:24)). “Yes, that’s all right.” “Very well, then,” said I, “as a soldier you will understand what right about turn means!” “Certainly,” he said. “Then you will be going the opposite way, won’t you, if you right about turn?” “Yes, that’s plain enough.” “Now then,” said I, “for the proof: Before you knew that Jesus was your Saviour, and before God’s Holy Spirit began His work in your heart, you did not care a jot about pleasing God. But since, your desire is to please Him and to lead a new life, and that certainly means a new and a spiritual birth, as I understand it.” He exclaimed, “I see it now, that’s plain enough. I see it now. God bless you,” and his smile of delight was a pleasure to see.
If any who reads this true incident have any difficulty of a similar kind, the Editor of this Magazine will be very glad to help you. F. P. C.