ON a narrow bed in a hospital there lay―or, rather, we might say, there tossed about in the restlessness of fever―a fine young soldier. Often had he boasted that he had never known a day’s illness, and now, as he told the nurses, he “found sickness terrible.”
Jem Douglas was the son of a lawyer in very comfortable circumstances, but one day he had run away from home and enlisted as a soldier, after his father had spoken to him gently but firmly about his lazy, extravagant habits. Very soon he bitterly regretted the step he had taken, but he was too proud to say so, and wrote two or three letters to his mother, speaking in glowing terms of his military life. He was popular in his regiment, but one of the officers remarked to another that “Douglas was not improving,” and, later, that he “feared Douglas was going to the bad, as far as regulations allowed him.” It was soon after this that he was seized with fever.
As he lay day after day in the hospital — for he had several relapses — he thought much of his parents and of the happy home he had so willfully quitted. Then came the remembrance of his life since he had left them; he hoped they would never hear of some of his doings during that time.
“This won’t do,” he muttered to himself one night; “I will not think. Oh, for a good drink and some jolly companions! With them I could soon drown these thoughts.”
In the next bed there lay a young man from another regiment whose name was John Maw. He was suffering greatly, but Jem resented his patience, and repelled his attempts at conversation. One night, however, when all was very still in the little ward, Jem had tried in vain to sleep, and thoughts of his past life were making him very miserable. He raised himself to see if his neighbor were awake, feeling it would be a comfort to break the silence, if only to grumble in a whisper to his fellow sufferer. He saw that Maw’s eyes were closed, but that his lips were moving, and by close listening he heard him several times repeat the words:
“Out in the desert He heard its cry,
Sick, and helpless, and ready to die.”
Jem said them over to himself; more and more slowly Maw repeated them, then Jem knew he had dropped asleep, and that it would be cruel to awake him. Almost mechanically he went over the words again, wondering where they came from, and pondering a, little on their meaning. By this time the night nurse, passed noiselessly up the ward, and Jem beckoned to her. Laying a finger on her mouth, and pointing to Maw, she whispered:
“Hush, he’s asleep. He’s suffered terribly to-day.”
As she turned over Jem’s pillow, he said: “Have you ever heard these words, nurse:
“ ‘Out in the desert He heard its cry,
Sick, and helpless, and ready to die’?”
“It seems to me that I’ve heard them sung, and that they are in a hymn,” she whispered, “but I don’t know where. Perhaps Maw could tell you; he’s religious, and his is the right kind of religion, too. I wish I was as happy as he is. Now try to go to sleep.”
But sleep would not come, and that night, and for the next two days, try as he would, Jem could not forget those two lines. Nor could he get rid of the thought of the sinfulness of his past life.
One evening he could bear it no longer, and seeing that his neighbor was awake he whispered: “Maw, who was out in the desert?”
“I was,” answered the sick man in a low tone.
Jem paused; the answer surprised him. Presently he said, “Who heard its cry?”
“The Lord Jesus,” was the quiet reply.
That was all the conversation, but those five words gave Jem plenty to think about. And a few days later, Maw being much better, he suddenly told him of his trouble, closing with the words: “I am downright miserable. Tell me what’s the matter with me. Your description, Sick, and helpless, and ready to die,’ fits me to a ‘T.’”
“Praise God!” answered the other invalid;’ “it’s all right. Why, God the Holy Spirit is showing you that you are a poor lost sheep, and now He wants to point you to the Good Shepherd, who ‘goeth after that which is lost until He find it.’ I see that nurse is signing to me to stop talking, but I will tell you more tomorrow. Say over and over again to yourself, ‘The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.’ Here is my Testament. Do look out that verse for yourself; it’s in the nineteenth chapter of St. Luke.”
Jem took the well-worn little volume, and, propped up with pillows, he read and re-read’ Luke 19:1010For the Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost. (Luke 19:10) and its context. Half an hour later Maw said to him “Look at the fifteenth chapter,” and he turned to that wonderful chapter. He had never opened a Bible since he enlisted — nor, indeed, for some months before. Now as he read the parable of the lost sheep, and then came to that beautiful story of the prodigal son and the father’s love, he broke down completely. And next morning Maw had the joy of hearing from his own lips that he who had indeed been a “sheep going astray” had now returned unto “that great Shepherd of the sheep.”
A few days afterwards Jem said to Maw: “Have you known the Good Shepherd long?”
“No; scarcely two years,” answered Maw. “More shame to me, for I had a good mother, who taught me all about Him and His love. But I always said, Time enough; I’ll serve Him when I’ve had a bit of pleasure first, mother — say, when I am thirty or thirty-five.’”
“And how came the change?” inquired Jem. “Do tell me all about it. You can’t be thirty yet.”
“No; I’m twenty-eight,” said Maw. “About two years ago I was with my regiment in India. I was clever at learning some of the conjuring and juggling tricks that the natives, where we then were, excel in. Particularly anxious was I to do one in which I must appear to swallow a very small but most venomous serpent. I had practiced once or twice with it successfully, but one evening I handled it badly, and its deadly fang entered my shoulder.
“ ‘What ever shall I do!’ I cried, as I rushed terror-stricken across the road.
“ ‘Sit down,’ said a quiet voice as a firm hand was laid on my arm. And, almost before I knew what was happening, I saw that one of the men was sucking the poison out of the wound. I did not know him well, but I had often jeered at what I called his old woman’s religion. Now, as I saw the fine fellow risking his life to save mine, I realized what a grand thing it is to be a true Christian.
“Why do you do this?’ I asked him; you know it may kill you.’
“ ‘If it does, I’m not afraid to die,’ he said quietly.
“ ‘And I am,’ I said. I know all about the better way; but I’ve scorned the Saviour and His love. If I die today, I’m lost!’
“Never shall I forget the solemn, earnest way in which that manly servant of God looked at me, as he slowly repeated the words, ‘The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost,’ nor the emphasis he laid on the last word.”
“That was the text you said to me,” remarked Jem. “Now see why you chose it. It came to me like a ray of hope. But tell me more. Did that brave man recover? Of course you did, for here you are today; but did he?”
“Yes, he did. He was ill for several days, and the doctors feared for him; but he got quite well. I heard from him yesterday. I tell him that, under God, I owe to him both my natural and spiritual life; for he never rested till I knew the Lord Jesus as my own personal Saviour.”
“And now you’ve pointed me to Him,” said Jem. “All my life long I shall praise God for this illness and time of quiet, that forced me to think.” Then he added, reverently: “Ah! the Good Shepherd did find me ‘sick, and helpless, and ready to die.’” “But He didn’t leave you there,” said Maw.
“No, indeed,” said Jem, decidedly. “It seems to me I can only say, ‘My cup runneth over,’ when I think of all that He’s done for me.”
F. E. TURNER