THERE is an affecting tale told of the captain of a small sailing vessel who was taken very ill. They were far from land, and the vessel carried no doctor. The captain, realizing that death was approaching, became troubled in soul and very anxious. He sent for his mate, but the difficulty was beyond the mate’s power to solve; he could only mutter a vague hope that “He wasn’t as bad as he thought.” The captain then ordered him to send down the boson, but he was still more indefinite when confronted with the question, How to prepare for dying. He was sent on deck, where he gave it as his opinion that the “old man” was “going off his head,” and the crew was sent down one by one with the same result, until in despair the captain summoned the poor cabin-boy. Johnny gave it as his opinion that if his old mother were there, there wouldn’t be any difficulty, so in agony the captain asked him what did he think his mother would do. Johnny replied that the very first thing his mother would do, would be to ask for a Bible. When directed by the captain, who began to see a ray of hope, Johnny found a Bible. He said that the next thing she would do, would be, to turn to the fifty-third of Isaiah, and this the dying man begged him to do without delay. When after, some difficulty he had found it, his face brightened and he said, “Captain, my mother always taught me to read a bit of it in this way: He was wounded for Johnny’s transgressions. He was for bruised Johnny’s iniquities, the chastisement of Johnny’s peace was upon Him, and with His stripes Johnny is healed.” The poor face on the pillow was turned questioningly towards the reader, and the fast darkening lips framed the question, “Who is He, Johnny?” “Jesus, captain”, said the boy. Still the same longing look, till the boy humbly suggested with an inward tremor, for a captain is a great man in the eyes of his cabin boy, “Suppose, Captain, you read it with Jesus name and—and with yours”. So they began, the man’s deep voice, upon which the hush of death was fast falling, following the lad’s clear treble, “Jesus was wounded for Captain Smith’s transgressions, Jesus was bruised for Captain Smith’s iniquities: the chastisement of Captain Smith’s peace was upon Him, and with His stripes Captain Smith is healed.” The ship rose and fell rhythmically to the slow swell, the timbers creaked and the bulkheads groaned; still the deep voice, growing more indistinct now, toiled after the treble until silence fell. Then, whilst an ineffable look of supreme content crept over the storm-battered face and a light into the upturned, fast-glazing eyes, his lips were seen to move: “Jesus . . . with Jesus’ stripes I am healed.”
ML 09/01/1912