“Sweet His name, that name transcending,
Every name on earth, in heaven;
Praise through ages never-ending;
To the Son of God be given!
He alone the Saviour is,
Everlasting praise be His.”
IT was at the close of an unsuccessful day’s business, feeling tired out in mind and body, that I took my seat in the far corner of a compartment of the railway train which was to carry me, during a journey of about six hours, towards my home.
The disappointments of this weary, weeping, wretched world was weighing heavily on my spirit, and I was musing on the darkness, of my surroundings, when I heard, amid the din and bustle of the busy platform, the name of Jesus sweetly wafted to my ears again and yet again.
“Jesus! Jesus!”
The voice was soft and sweet, and that name filled my sad heart with overflowing ecstatic joy.
“How sweet the name of Jesus sounds
In a believer’s ear!
It soothes his sorrow, heals his wounds,
And drives away his fear.”
What swift-winged messenger of mercy brought such a cup of refreshment to my weary soul? Whence came music of such exquisite sweetness, like a message from yonder throne-seated, glory-crowned Saviour at God’s right hand?
It was no angel brought the comfort. No angel knows, nor ever can know, what is the exceeding preciousness of that Name to one who has proved the cleansing power of the precious blood. This is the portion alone of ransomed sinners, whose hearts are tuned by God.
Quickly pressing to the platform-side of the compartment, and looking out of the carriage window, I witnessed a sad, and yet a gladsome sight—a mother and daughter, clinging to each other in an affectionate parting embrace.
A few more brief moments, and they would be separated to meet no more on earth.
The daughter was seeking to comfort her dear, sorrow-stricken, weeping mother, using “the healing balm for every wound”—the name of Jesus.
“Trust Jesus, mother darling. Tell Him all your sorrow. Oh, there’s none like Him; He’s a friend that sticketh close than a brother. By-and-by, when the morning dawneth, and the shadows flee away, up yonder we will meet around Him. No partings there, dear mother; only a wee, wee while longer, and then ‘forever with the Lord.’”
Glorious meeting, indeed!
“No breaking heart is there,
No keen and thrilling pain,
No wasted cheek, where the frequent tear
Hath roll’d; and left its stain.”
I felt that I must be slow to intrude upon such a scene, but longed to let them know that the mention of that precious name had so refreshed and cheered me.
With my pencil I wrote a few words on a slip of paper, and, waiting an opportunity, handed it to them.
The daughter stood at the door, and in a clear, sweet voice read:
“No name on earth so sweet as ‘Jesus,’ No name in heaven more sweet than ‘Jesus.’”
It seemed to send a thrill through each heart, as if a voice from heaven’s far-off land had spoken to each one.
Our time was up. The guard’s whistle sounded, and the train started, separating mother and daughter.
That daughter’s simple confession of Christ led to much conversation with my traveling companions, and I trust that two, at least, of the company who were seated in that compartment learned, before our six hours’ journey ended, for the first time the value of that precious name, in which alone salvation is found—Jesus! Jesus!! JESUS!!!
Fellow-traveler to eternity, do you know Him, the once crucified, now risen, exalted and coming Saviour.
ML 08/19/1906