M’C―, you’re a dying man!” were the startling words, spoken, quite in jest, by a man to his fellow-workman, whilst engaged at their daily occupation one morning in the autumn of 1877. “Bless the Lord for that,” was the quick and ready response given; and nothing more was said, the one addressed being by no means disconcerted by such a statement, but by his answer seemed to imply that such news was too good to be true.
M’C― was the oldest of a handful of Christians (known as M’C―’s band), employed as ship-carpenters in the dry docks of a seaport town in the West of England, and was often the subject of strange remarks made in his hearing by some of his unconverted fellow-workmen, who liked to hear what answer he would make; but little did the thoughtless speaker on this occasion think how true his idle remark would soon prove to be. Such, however, was the case. About an hour afterward, a block of wood, attached to the rigging of the vessel on which M’C― was working, by some means fell from its position, striking him with considerable force, and causing him to fall several feet into the dry dock. He was picked up insensible, and carried home; medical assistance was procured, but to no purpose; he never spoke again, and calmly and peacefully passed away to be with the Lord, whom he had long loved, and diligently sought to follow.
A kind warm-hearted man, always ready to help others, whether his own circumstances were prosperous or not, and withal a bright and happy Christian, he was much loved by the circle of Christians with whom he was associated, as well as respected by all who knew him.
The writer well recollects the funeral procession passing through the streets. The ship―carpenters― attending by their own desire to the number of a hundred or more, neatly dressed in black, and walking two deep-preceded the hearse, which was followed by a goodly number of his fellow-Christians, who, while they mourned the loss of a brother beloved by all, knew that for him to depart and be with Christ was far better, looking forward to the day when they with him should share the joys of the Father’s house.
What effect this solemn occurrence had on the one who made the thoughtless remark to M’C― the writer knows not; but well it was that the fatal block did not strike him, for it is feared it would have found him unprepared to enter the presence of a holy and righteous God, who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity, and cannot look upon sin.
To each unconverted reader of this true narrative let me put the question, ―How would it fare with your soul if God sent a message to you that you had but one short hour to live? M’C― started out in health and strength that autumn morning to follow his daily occupation as usual, but he was ready, and you are not! His reply of, “Bless the Lord for that,” were almost, if not the last words he was known to utter. “Be ye therefore ready also”
(Luke 12:42). Z.