By the Editor
The Shadow of Eternity
I HAD a dream, and in my dream I thought that I was dying. I awoke with the solemnities of eternity pressing upon my heart. The world seemed far away to me, who had thus in thought hovered on the borders of the unseen. My soul seemed to be filled with dim conceptions and unexplained foreshadowings. The shadow of eternity seemed to have fallen upon me. And am I thus so near eternity? so near that any moment I may be in it? Yes, it is even so — tomorrow I may be gone. Where?
Solemn thought! I look across the seas and see the mighty shadow resting upon millions of men — men lining the trenches — manning the guns — leaping to the charge — lying like swathes of corn mown by the reaper Death, helpless, bleeding, dying, dead under the skies of God! O God! we lift appealing hands to Thee. We cannot save them, but we can pray for them. We have loved ones there — sons and husbands and brothers. Cover their heads, O God, in the day of battle! Send Thy legions of angels from the skies to guard them as we pray. And, O Almighty God, help us, as we love them and Thee, to send Thy holy Word to them. May it never be our reproach in the day of our death that we failed to do our duty to them.
We know, as one has beautifully said, “that Christ walks the battlefields of France and Belgium, as surely as in days gone by He trod the shores of Galilee.” May He be consciously near our loved ones, in the midst of the horrors and the tumult of the strife; may they hear Him say, “My peace I give unto you... let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”
The Shadow of the Grave
The flower of British manhood lies under the soil of foreign lands today. The shadow of eternity has enveloped them. Young, brave, beautiful in their strength, they are lost to earth forever. Across the sundering seas fond hearts are breaking because they will never come again. A hero’s grave on the battlefield means an empty place at home. In “Return at Once,” in October “Message,” Miss Leakey tells us of a young officer’s leave being stopped by the War Office telegram, “Return at once.” He goes back to his regiment, then to France, and from France to heaven. Thank God he was ready for the call — he was not ashamed of Christ — and although his splendid physical and mental powers are lost to earth, the Lord had need of him, and when the Lord needs us, He calls us to Himself, sometimes from quiet sick beds, at other times from a warrior’s couch of pain and blood.
The last post has sounded for him, and if the question comes, “Watchman! what of the night?” for it is night when our loved ones go, the answer comes as a voice from heaven, “Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord... that they may rest from their labors.” He was Christ’s soldier; I knew and loved him well; he rests from his labors. The mystery of his early death we shall know when we see him again in heaven. Why his sun went down before it had reached its meridian God will tell us when He tells us all. Thou hast died on the “field of honor,” for thine earthly king, but in the “grand review” of heaven thou wilt be there, and in the “Book of Life,” where the names of the soldiers of the King of kings are written, thy name will be found. Good-bye, till the morning breaks and the shadows flee away. “We shall meet thee in the morning.”
The Graves Are Speaking
We cannot pray for the dead, they are gone beyond our prayers, but those silent mounds of earth, with their simple crosses, are speaking to us today. Oh! friends, let the mute appeal of the dead stir your hearts to help the living.
What do they seem to say to us from their lonely graves? Listen!
Pray at home for those who have taken our place in the ranks of war.
Send the Word of God to those whose living eyes can read it, and whose beating hearts can rejoice in it.
Give them the little khaki Testament that has fallen from our dead hands; they need it now as we needed it before we died.
God will call us to account, some of us who are Christians, for the selfish ease that has possessed us when the need of souls was so great. We are resting quietly at home while thousands die for us each day abroad. What are we doing for their immortal souls? Are we helping to give them the Bibles, and Gospels, and Testaments that shall be like finger posts pointing them to Christ?
A Christian writes to me: ―
“I hope you will be able to send more Testaments and Gospels soon. I was delighted to see two parcels from you a few days ago. I gave them away the same day, and in forty-eight hours no doubt they were in the trenches... God reward you for giving our dear men His Word when going to face death.”
Another writes saying: — “Thank you very much for parcel sent, for which I am truly grateful. I enclose a post card I received from a lad in the firing line. I wonder if you can manage to send him something. May God abundantly bless and preserve you.” The lad has his parcel.
Yes, they are calling to us from the battlefields. Pray for us at home! Think of us at home! Send the Word of God to us from home! Give us the little Testament that we can carry with us to the trenches.
Dear friends, the living and the dead are calling to you. Will you help? You cannot save their bodies, are you trying to save their souls? We are told by workers at the Front that it is appalling the number of men who go on their last journey from the base to the trenches without Testaments. And it is heartrending to know that often the last sermon they hear before their death tells them they can be sure of heaven by their own self-sacrifice, and have no need of Christ. Poor, brave fellows, Gad help you and teach you to rely only upon His written Word! This will make you wise unto salvation.
Read this letter I received from one who has left England for the battlefront, and is conscious of his need of Christ’s presence with him: —
Going into the Shadow
“Do remember me in your prayers; I feel so weak and helpless in myself. Do pray that I may be faithful to my blessed Saviour, that I may never be ashamed of Him who has done so much for me.... I have heard bad news this morning. May the Lord make me faithful to immortal souls who are going on the downward road to destruction.”
Weeping in the Shadow
The Rev. A. A. Boddy tells us how the shadow of eternity fell on a young man in the trenches. He was alongside his chum in the trench, for they were never parted — they were always together. Then a shell burst and killed his chum outright. He seemed as if he couldn’t get over it. He lay all night beside the dead body of his chum and cried as if his heart would break.
The Shadow of Death
A young lieutenant fresh from home begs another to let him take his place at an observation post. His friend consents. The young officer goes off eagerly and gladly, but he goes under the shadow of death. A shell bursts above his head and he falls to die, in half an hour, riddled with shrapnel from head to foot. Young, brave, and eager one hour, the next in eternity.
A French Officer Under the Shadow
A young French officer got separated a little distance from his men; he was going through a small wood in the dark, when the German scouts caught him. Their bayonets touched his breast, and a voice whispered in his ear, “Make but the slightest noise and you are a dead man!” At once he saw that the German Army must be coming up to take the French by surprise, and that if he did not warn them his countrymen would probably be overwhelmed. He was not a coward, but instantly shouted at the top of his voice, “Here are the enemy.” The next moment he fell dead, pierced to the heart, but his devotion saved his friends from surprise and defeat. The German attack failed. Oh, if we only had equal courage in serving Christ! —the courage to warn our fellow men and prevent them from falling a prey to the great enemy of their souls! Are we brave enough to warn men to flee from the wrath to come, or do we in coward ease rest careless and heedless while the devil and his hosts are seeking for the souls of men? If God were to ask you now if you had warned any of their state, or if you had helped to lead souls to Christ, what would you say?
God in the Shadow
From the Front one writes: ―
“The dear Lord was very merciful to me on the 14th. A piece of shell blew away the front of my leggings, grazing my skin; another piece went clean through my water bottle and all my clothing, making a slight wound just to the right of my backbone, while a third piece pierced my cap, going through the side and coming out at the top without touching my head.”
Another on board H.M.S.― writes: ―
“Quite recently we prepared to go into battle within an hour, and it was foggy, and we each knew that it would be an awful thing at such close distance, but I knew the sweetness of His presence, and I felt calm as at the most quiet time of my life, and was quite willing to leave everything to Him.... We have passed through many dangers, but we meet each night in our Chaplain’s cabin for prayer... Our Chaplain is a sincere Christian and a great help and comfort to us all.” God bless him!
A card from the Editor of the “Message” when he was in Brittany said, “You must get me some striking incident. I wish Colonel Savile would send you another.” Strange to say, by the same post came a most striking Testament incident from Colonel Savile, which shows indeed how wonderfully God preserves those who abide under His shadow and trust under the covert of His wings. I simply copy his letter: ―
“I heard of another Testament story which will interest you I am sure. An officer was marching with a column when a piece of shell struck him and was turned off by a Testament which was in his pocket, which his father had given him. But now comes the wonderful part: the shell stopped at the page with the ninety-first Psalm on it, and the first verse of that very psalm his father had written at the beginning of the book. But the wonder — or I should say, the mercies — of God did not stop there. He lay where he fell, and had to be left alone, and after a while, during the night, an ambulance wagon, which had lost its way, passed by. He called out and asked if they could take him in. They said, ‘Yes, there is just one place left.’ When he arrived at the hospital or dressing station the doctor said: ‘It was fortunate for you the ambulance found you, or you would have been dead by the morning, or anyhow lost your leg, as gangrene has begun to set in.’ It was, however, taken in time, and he is now as well as ever.”
That is a case of “abiding under the shadow of the Almighty” is it not? How I thank the good Colonel for giving it to us.
Emily P. Leakey
And now I appeal again, as I have month after month, for the means to get and to send away—
10,000 Gospels and Testaments
10,000 “Message from God” each month
10,000 “How Can I Be Saved?”
For Tracts and Books and Magazines
For Bibles in French and English, not too old or worn
For Lavender Bags with Texts tor the Hospitals
Send at once. The need is now.
I want also small writing pads and envelopes and pencils. And do pray that we may be strengthened for this work which God has given us, and which He has richly deigned to bless.