Never to Come Again
The Story of our Work and its Needs told largely by the Soldiers and Sailors themselves.
As you read, remember only One in FIVE of the soldiers going to wounds and death has a Testament. Another MILLION men are being called to the Colors. We want your help to supply them with the Word of God.
A Resting Place
Having been laid aside by illness, I have had to give up my practice for a few weeks. Some part of this time had to be spent in bed, and then I went to the quietude of Rockford Villa, Brendan, North Devon, when my good friend and hostess does all she can to help me on the bed of convalescence. This is the same quiet, beautiful spot that to write the “Memories of the Life and Last Days of WAR of W. Kelly” in 1909. Here the voice of many waters is heard day and night as the Lyn pursues its musical way over boulders and down the cascades from its heather cradle on Exmoor to the sea at Hamouth. And many a lesson have I learned from the foaming stream, as I have walked along its banks down to Watersmeet and Lynmouth; or upwards to its source by Maims-mead and Bagworthy, to where, under the shadow of Dunkery Beacon, it has its birth. It goes singing all the way from moorland solitudes to the embrace of the absorbing sea. Its talking waters pass over stony beds, through sweet Devonshire meadows bright with tender flowers, through bracken and gorse golden with yellow glory, underneath o’erarching trees, or thundering down a rocky chasm: a sweet voice praising God, anon forming pools of solemn beauty, speaking the deep content, of God. But on and ever on, obeying the call of the restless sea, until at last, o’er shining sands, the journey ends in the embrace of the glorious ocean.
So should our lives be: a psalm of praise to God. ‘Mid light and shade, by day and night, making melody to God from the cradle to the grave. Here by the talking waters have I been able to write about our work for God among the soldiers and the sailors. Here have I spoken with the men in the trenches as they wrote me fragments of the story of the Great War. I have been able to enter in larger measure while here into the needs of the brave fellows at the Front. My daily post has brought me hundreds of letters that I have loved to answer. I trust that the story told of need and opportunity will move your hearts to help still more the work of God and enable us to send the many thousands of Testaments to soldiers and sailors that are so greatly needed now. If I have to refer to myself in this narrative it will be simply because I cannot write without doing so. It is the work that God has given me, and I have done it for God. I have thrown all my heart and energies into the work because I loved it so, and feel how needful it is in these sad days for every servant of Christ to do his best. And as the waters of the Lyn do their little part in helping to swell the volume of the seal so we should do the work that is allotted to us, and so help to fill the ocean of opportunity that lies before all God’s people today.
Telling the Story
I have heard it said, “The people at home want the gospel as much as the soldiers; is there not a fear of their being neglected?” This argument is a bad one in every way. If you know a man is dangerously ill and likely to die, and he is unsaved, would you not go at once to that man and leave no stone unturned to bring him to Christ? Would you not be more anxious for his soul than you would for the man’s soul who walked the streets perfectly well? Perhaps you ought to be as anxious about the one as the other, but the Good Samaritan, loving all, went where He was most needed. At home you can get a Bible or a Testament in five minutes, if you have not one in the house. Out there, at the Front, they are starving for the Word of God, tearing Testaments to pieces to make it go as far as they can. How wrong to tear up the Testaments, you say, perhaps. How wrong of you, at home, not to send them Testaments. Have you done your part? Out there they have fought for the Word of God. I have had many a heartache when the pleading letters have come to me. “Do send me a Testament!” A worker writes to me, “Please don’t stop the Testaments, whatever else goes short.” A Tommy says in a letter, “I thanked God when He put that little Testament into my hand.”
A dying soldier in a trench says to a comrade, “Can you tell me anything about God?” His friend says, “I’m afraid I cannot, but this little book may help you.” He gives a Gospel of St. John to the dying man. The poor fellow reads it eagerly, turning over the pages feebly with his dying hands. Then looking at his comrade he says, “This is just what I wanted,” and soon after passed away. Perhaps that man’s death, and the story of it, may do more good read in England than a hundred sermons. He knew, this dying man, that death in battle would not save his soul, but he found in the precious Word of God just what he wanted. If a soldier or sailor is saved through reading the Testament, he goes from the battle to heaven, from death to glory; but if he comes home a really saved man he will bring the gospel with him, and take care that his wife and children, and his friends know what great things the Lord has done for him. So by sending the Testaments to the soldiers we are helping to evangelize England. A rough soldier saved at the Front writes to his wife: “My dear old gal, I have been a brute to you in the past, but all shall be changed when I come home. It shall be all sunshine for you and the dear babies.” Yes, England will be flooded with the sunshine of God’s love to sinners when the saved soldiers return, bringing their Testaments with them.
I sometimes think I could “depart in peace” if I only knew that every soldier, of every nation, had: the Word of God in his pocket, but when we are told by workers among the soldiers on their last journey to the Front, for many of them, that only two in ten have a Testament, and by a Christian soldier, who has to search the dead, that only one in five have a Testament―the same proportion thus strangely verified―we feel that there is an overwhelming need for the work we are trying to do, and that God’s blessing must rest upon the distribution of His own Word.
What a Millionaire Might do
If I were a millionaire I think my first thought would be to send to every regiment in all the armies enough Testaments to supply every man with a copy. I am not a millionaire, but I have the unspeakable privilege of being able to tell God all about it, as every Christian has. He can incline the hearts of His stewards to help us in our work, and in a day God could send us all we need in this respect. What is £500, or £1,000, or £10,000 weighed against the value of one immortal soul? We have the testimony that hundreds have been blessed and saved by the Testaments we have sent. Those who read the “Message from God” can see the truth of what I say. A wounded officer said to me the other day, “I will give you ten per cent of my ‘blood-money,’ when I get it, to send Testaments to the men.” A Christian friend who has helped me more than once said, “You will want thousands of pounds.” He sent me means to buy five thousand Testaments. Of course we shall want thousands of pounds, and God knows it, and I want you, dear friends, to know it, and then while health and strength are given we will do our utmost to supply the terrible need.
Another Million Men are to be Called to the Colors
Think what that means—a thousand thousand. Help us to send to these brave men. Do not hesitate and say, “I’ll think about it.” While you are thinking men are dying, and the opportunity given to you now to help may have passed from you.
The Daily Mail
I wish my reader could sit by my side while I open my daily letters for a week. There would be no hesitation about your giving then. You would do as that dear working man did who gave his savings to send eight thousand Testaments to the soldiers, and those two dear teachers who gave enough to send four thousand each. You would do as that father did, who gave us one thousand Testaments as a thank offering for a safe voyage given to his soldier son. You would emulate the widow who sends her mite, and the school children who give their pennies, and the mother who sends me a gold lever watch that belonged to her daughter, now in heaven, and wants me to sell it to send Testaments to the soldiers. The watch cost £11 17s. 6d., and is as good as new, only having been used six months. (I should be glad if some kind friend would make an offer for it.) You would do as thousands have done, help on the work by practical sympathy and prayer. I wish I could write a book containing the story of the giving of the last two years. Not only the gifts of money and jewels, but the priceless gifts of Christian love repeated over and over again. If my poor prayers can bring a blessing to them, they will be blessed indeed.
Voluntary War Work at the Firs, Denmark Road, Exeter
At the commencement of the work I sent off the parcels myself, but one of our dear workers soon came with an offer of help. He was accustomed to packing in his daily work, and he volunteered to do it all for me after his day’s work was done. Soon others came forward to work as well, some to pack the boxes, others to tie them up; some to put the Testaments into envelopes ready for the post, some to put the little labels inside the Testaments, others to put our post-cards into envelopes ready to be sent to workers among the soldiers and to the soldiers themselves, until we had between thirty and forty workers for God.
I do ask you to thank God for these dear workers, and to ask God to bless them. One Christian writes me and says that since she saw their photos in the “Message” she has cut them out and placed them on the wall of her room so that she can pray for them every day.
Our Postcards
In April, 1916, we commenced what has proved to be, I think, the most successful branch of our work, and that is the sending out of post-cards to the workers among the soldiers. This is a sample of the card we now send. On the front is my address.
THIS CARD IS SANCTIONED BY THE WAR OFFICE AUTHORITIES “The Firs,” Denmark Road, Exeter, England.
DEAR FRIEND,
If you have not a Testament and want one to fit your pocket, I will give it to you. Please fill in the space below with your NAME, RANK and UNIT, and post this card. Do not mention your Brigade or Division.
Yours for Christ’s sake, HEYMAN WREFORD.
Name, Rank and Unit....................
About six thousand of these Cards are filled in and sent every month.
for 30 /-we can send a Testament to one hundred Soldiers at the Front post free. Will you send one hundred? The fact that I have had given me in writing from the War Office their sanction to the distribution of these cards has given a wonderful impetus to this work. What led to this sanction being given is one of the marvelous evidences of God’s blessing resting upon our work. It is an evidence also that the heads of the War Office have the highest interests of the soldiers at heart. From colonels down to privates, I have had these cards sent to me for Testaments.
A Lieutenant asks me to send enough for four hundred men.
A Captain writes: ― “Will you allow me to thank you for the Testaments you are distributing among the men of my Company. I believe it is very much appreciated, and whether so or not the kind thought for them does much good. The recruits who have lately joined are an extremely nice lot of men.”
A Colonel constantly writes for Testaments for the men under his command. In the letters you will read what the N.C.O.’s and privates think of the post-cards.