SOME years before his death, the late General Wauchope, or Colonel, as he was then, was persuaded to contest, at the forthcoming Parliamentary election, the county of Midlothian with Mr. Gladstone.
A large political meeting had been held in Edinburgh, at which he had spoken, setting forth his opinions on the points at issue. As he closed, to the surprise of all present, a man, apparently of a humble position in life, mounted the platform and addressed the company as follows.
“Friends,” he said, “I don’t know anything about politics, but one thing I know, when I was wounded in battle, he,” pointing to the Colonel, “came to me; he gave me water out of his own bottle, and, at the risk of his life, carried me to a place of safety, and yon’s the man I mean to vote for.”
The whole audience, as may be supposed, was thrilled at the touching story, and although, ultimately, the gallant Colonel was unsuccessful in his candidature, we may well believe it was not the fault of the honest soldier.
When I read this, I remembered how, long years ago, One came to me in my need, and how with pierced hands He held living water to my dying lips. I remembered how He, the Lord Jesus Christ, brought me to a place, not of safety only, but of deep joy and blessedness, and I could but ask myself if I had been as loyal to Him as was that old soldier to his officer. I do not indeed mean merely the giving Him the vote of a passing hour, but by life and lip testifying that He, God’s Altogether Lovely One, was my heart’s choice.
But you perhaps, my realer, if you ask yourself the question, may be able to give a better answer than any I could find to it. I trust so, for He is worthy. Today is given us the unspeakable privilege of owning Him in His rejection; tomorrow, it may be, the world will be at His feet, His enemies be made His footstool, and our opportunity of testifying, where all is against Him, be forever passed away.
L. R.