Or, Life in Death.
“Well, Jennings, so you have buried the poor fellow who died the other day?”
“Yes, Sir, he’s buried, and a solemn time it was; I felt it very deeply.”
The last speaker, a powerfully-built man, whose bronzed face told its own tale, had been a sailor, and was now a coast-guardsman. As he spoke there was a trembling of the voice, which, coupled with a tear, hastily brushed away by his horny hand, revealed the kind heart hidden beneath that rough jacket.
“Were all the men at the funeral?”
“All that could be spared from the different station: within reach were there, Sir.”
“Where was he buried?”
“In the old churchyard, Sir; we all fell in and marched there. The men seemed to be cut up about it. We all liked poor Bill. The service was very solemn, and I wondered who’d be next. As we came out of the churchyard, my mate, who was walking next to me, said, ‘What wonderful words they was, how beautiful, “In the midst of life We are in death.”’ ‘I know some better than that, mate,’ says I. ‘What are they?’ said he, looking kind o’ astonished. ‘Why, in the midst of death we are in life.’” “I suppose, Jennings, he was still more astonished?”
“That he was, Sir, but it gave me a chance of telling him what a real thing Eternal Life was, and, though the poor sinner might be surrounded with death, yet, believing in Jesus, he had life.”
“It must have struck him very forcibly.”
“I believe it did, and I am looking to God to teach him the truth of it.”
Good old Jennings! he little knew what method God would take to teach this lesson.
Not long after this we were alarmed by hearing that poor Jennings had met with a sad accident, and lay dangerously ill in consequence. As soon as I could I hurried down to see him. I found him lying on his bed, in great agony. After praying with him, I gathered from his lips the following history of his being hurt.
“You see, Sir, there was no moon last night, and as I come away from the boat-house, after making my report, I hurried up the hill, and as I got into the Chine Road, under the trees, I could hardly see my hand before my face. I had got about half way along the road, and, as I was walking on the edge of the raised path, my foot slipped. In a moment I was down. It was a funny sort of a thing that give me my hurt.”
“What was that, Jennings?”
“Why, Sir, the distance wasn’t very great, but in falling, the muzzle of my pistol struck on the curb of the high path, and the butt struck right up under my ribs, and seemed to strike my heart.”
“Poor fellow! that must have hurt you terribly?”
“Well, it did, Sir, and although after a little sleep, I was able to go down and do my morning duty, I got so bad in the after part of the day that I fainted, and was obliged to be helped home, and here I am, Sir, helpless, and every now and again feeling as if rats were pulling the strings of my heart, and gnawing my inside.”
Commending him to God, after seeing he had necessary things, I left him. Even then I did not realize how ill the poor fellow was. The next day I was sent for, and on arriving at the house found his poor wife weeping bitterly.
“Oh! he’s going to die, he’s going to die,” she said.
After quieting her I entered his room. One of his comrades was there helping to nurse him. A single glance at my poor friend’s face showed me that death was written there. Oh! how changed in a few brief hours. He recognized me, and held out his hand.
“Glad you’ve come,” he said; “I’m going home fast.”
“Jennings, do you remember your words the other day?”
For a moment he could not answer, a paroxysm of pain shook his strong frame as the wind quivers the leaves of the aspen. As soon as it had passed he smiled, and said, slowly: “In the midst of death we are in life.”
“Tell me, dear Jennings, is it real to you now?”
I shall never forget his reply―
“In awful agony! awful agony! but in deepest joy! It’s all right with Him,” and he pointed up. Again his body was torn with anguish, and the sweat rained from his brow, through his suffering.
Seeing his poor wife weeping, he said: “Don’t cry, Liz, God will take care of you.... Come here, give your heart to Jesus ... Promise you will join me there.”
The poor wife sobbed out, “I will.” Then with a smile, and look of earnest love, he greeted some of his mates, who silently gathered in the room to take farewell, “ Dear mates, I’m going―I’m dying fast, but I’m in life.”
Holding out his hand to each, he drew them in turn to him, and looked on them long and lovingly.
“Oh! mates, do get hold of my Saviour, do trust in Jesus. Shall I meet you up there? Remember, Jesus says, ‘Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out.’ It might have been your lot to a’ laid here like this, but, thank God, it’s one that’s ready.”
The scene will never pass from my mind. Strong men bowed their heads and wept like children. Presently Jennings motioned me to kneel. I knew what he meant, and earnestly pleaded that God would save the wife, provide for her and the children, save the friends, and give quick and happy release to His suffering child.
For a moment there was silence, broken only by a sob from one man, and half-suppressed groans from the poor sufferer. Then, taking his hand once more, I said: “Good-bye, dear Jennings, you are in His hands.
“Aye, forever!”
As I left the room, I took a last look — he smiled and pointed up.
A few brief hours and he was “Absent from the body, present with the Lord.”
There was a very large gathering of coast-guardsmen, and others, at his grave.
Well I remember the solemn service. One read those wondrous words:
Then an earnest preacher pointed to the coffin covered with the Union Tack, “The mightiest nation on earth might well hesitate,” said he, “to fire a shot at that coffin, for the might and power of England would rise to protect the honor of the flag which covers it. Dear friends, a poor sinner, a dead sinner, covered by the banner of God― ‘His banner over me was love’ ―is safe, though all the powers of hell and earth combine against him. God protects the honor of His flag, and shelters all beneath it.”
Have you trusted in the blood of Jesus?
Are you under God’s banner?
Dear reader, nearly twelve years have passed since these events, yet they live, and speak to you. Without further comment, I ask, can you say: “In the midst of death I am in life”? If not, there is One Who says to you: “I give... eternal life” (John 10:2828And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand. (John 10:28)). May God guide you to Him.
H. L.