ON only two occasions have I had the pleasure of looking into a lark’s nest. The first was . . . in South Wales. On entering the field I found the nest, and at once called the children together and obtained their promise not to disturb it; which promise was faithfully kept. During the whole of that day the parent bird was seen and heard high above the field. The second occasion was in a green field of wheat in Cambridgeshire, where there was a nest containing three eggs. My young readers no doubt know that a lark seldom or never rises from or returns to the nest exactly on the spot, but a few yards away, so that an observer shall not easily locate the nest.
Reprinted from the “Gospel Magazine.”
But for many years I have listened to the song of a lark without being reminded of a dear young friend who was a member of my Bible Class at Kilburn. His name was Harold Frederick J—; and at the time of his death he was about sixteen years of age. He had a praying mother, and a brother and two sisters attended the same school.
On two Lord’s Day afternoons Harold was absent from the class through illness, and on the second afternoon I asked the superintendent of the school to go with me to visit him. Mr Wilkins sat on one side of the bed, and myself on the other. After a few general remarks, Mr Wilkins said: “Well, Harold, I think you are very ill. Is there anything you would like to say to us?” With an effort the youth turned to me and said: “Do you remember preaching one ‘Sunday’ evening about eternal life?” I replied. “Do you mean from the Lord’s Prayer in the seventeenth chapter of John?” (I find that this was in text on August 5, 1900). He said, “Yes. On that evening I first felt myself a sinner in the sight of God; and as you spoke of the knowledge of God and of the Lord Jesus being a fruit and a proof of the possession of eternal life, every word seemed to go into my heart with a power I never felt before. Ever since then I have been more and more desirous to know the Lord Jesus for myself.” On leaving the room his mother confirmed this testimony, and said that during his brief illness she had often heard him in prayer without his knowing she was a listener; and that “eternal life” was the constant subject of his petitions.
But my young friends will wonder what connection there is between the youth and a lark’s song. In a few days Harold passed away, and I had to conduct the funeral service. This was on May 28, 1902, at Willesden New Cemetery. I may say here that the Old Cemetery was filled, and a large field had been recently added. This will explain what happened at the funeral. The grave was one of the first dug in the added part.
It was a lovely day of spring, and the sun was shining brightly in a blue, cloudless sky. Just as the coffin was being lowered into its resting-place, a lark rose from the grass only about ten yards from the grave, and mounted singing until it was immediately above the grave and the mourners standing round. It continued its thrilling song until we all left the cemetery.
This incident has not had a previous record in print. I now give the details of it so as to secure the attention of dear young readers to the subject of “eternal life.” How marvellous is the fact that from a tiny egg, within twenty days, a living bird should emerge, capable not of flying but of singing its Maker’s praise! But it is much more marvellous that God in rich sovereign grace should implant “eternal life” in the soul of a sinner once dead in sin, and enable that sinner to pray for an interest in redeeming love. All true prayer is first breathed into the soul by God the Holy Spirit; and this is equally true of all true praise. A dead bird cannot sing: therefore true prayer and true praise are proofs of the possession of life.
O that it may be the happy lot of my youthful readers to hear the voice that gives life, and to know Him who is Life! His sheep hear His voice; and He gives to His sheep “eternal life,” and they can never perish, for they are loved with an everlasting love.—WILLIAM WILEMAN.