EARLY MORNING SCENE, OCTOBER, 1916.
IT is seven a.m. A grey mist envelopes the camp. The kilted men, fully equipped, assemble on the centre roadway. Comrades gather to bid them farewell, and to express the wish for a safe return. Preliminaries over, the command, “Quick march!” rings out. The big drum beats, the bagpipes skirl, and away they march, for King and country, to meet the cruel foe—a foe with whom “might is right,” and treaties but “a scrap of paper,” to be torn at will.
A few of the many thoughts arising in their minds may be read in their faces, or felt in that parting hand-shake. The ties which bind to beloved ones, bring home very near, with the thought, “Shall we ever meet in time again, as we did in the days of peace? Or if we return, shall the home circle be found unbroken? Yet whatever the issues may be, duty calls, and if in this critical hour we hesitate, we shall prove unworthy sons.”
As they leave their native hills and speed along towards the field of bloodshed, another thought must surely arise—in one word, it is “Eternity”—a thought vastly different in the case of the Christian and the Christless. The former finds more precious than ever, “the Friend that sticketh closer than a brother,” “the brother born to adversity.” May not such say, “Though my mortal body be shattered to pieces, who can prevent my soul having, through the precious blood of Christ, an entry into eternal felicity? ‘Neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus, our Lord’ ” (Rom. viii. 38, 39).
The Christless one may endeavour to drown thought by a superficial hilarity, and yet the situation seems to argue thus with him: “If the valley of the shadow of death is near—if my place is to be amongst the fallen—comrades cannot help, and as for the Lord Jesus Christ, conscience reminds me that I have trifled with and made light of His invitations and exhortations. He called, but I refused.” In this melancholy state may such be found pleading, “God be merciful to me, a sinner.” For with God there is forgiveness, that He may be feared.
In such times of stress would that those who remain at home were frequenting a throne of grace, pleading constantly for beloved ones face to face with the horrors of war! But look around; a strange callousness prevails. Theatre-land and places of amusement are crowded. A spirit sevenfold more Satanic than ever seems to possess many. The spirit of impenitence bodes delay of victory. The favour of the Eternal King is greater far than the strength of material weapons. His exhortation is, “Be still, and know that I am God.” Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God, and in due time He will exalt you. Then shall we discover that it is righteousness—and righteousness alone—that exalteth a nation.
A HIGHLAND SOLDIER.