A SENTRY SAVED BY A HYMN

A party of tourists gathered on the deck of an excursion steamer that was moving slowly down the historic Potomac one beautiful evening during the summer. A gentleman had been delighting the party with his happy rendering of many familiar hymns, the last being the sweet petition, so dear to many Christians, “Jesus, Lover of my soul.” The singer gave the first two verses with much feeling and a peculiar emphasis upon the concluding lines that thrilled every heart, A hush had fallen upon the listeners that was not broken for some seconds after the musical notes had died away. Then a gentleman made his way from the outskirts of the crowd to the side of the singer and accosted him with, “Beg your pardon, sir, but were you actively engaged in the late war?”

“Yes, sir,” the singer answered, courteously; “I fought under General Grant.”

“Well,” the first speaker continued, with something like a sigh, “I did my fighting on the other side, and think – indeed, am quite sure -I was very near you one bright night, eighteen years ago this very month. It was a night like this. If I am not mistaken, you were on guard duty. We of the South had some terribly sharp business on hand and you were one of the enemy. I crept near your post of duty, my murderous weapon in my hand. The shadows hid me. Your beat led you into the clear light. As you paced back and forth, you were humming the tune of the hymn you have just sung. I raised my gun and aimed at your heart and I had been selected by our commander for the work because I was a sure shot. Then out upon the night floated the words –

Cover my defenceless head

With the shadow of Thy wing.

Your prayer was immediately answered. I couldn’t fire after that. And there was no attack made upon your camp that night. I felt sure, when I heard you sing this evening, that you were the identical man whose life I was spared from taking.”

The singer grasped the hand of the Southerner, and said with much emotion, “I remember the night very well, and distinctly the feeling of depression and loneliness with which I went forth to do my duty. I know my post was in great danger, and I was more dejected than I remember being at any time during my service. I paced my lonely beat, thinking of home and friends and all that life holds dear. Then the thought of God’s care for all that He has created came to me with peculiar force. ‘If He cares for a sparrow, how much more for man created in His own image!” and I sang the prayer of my heart, and ceased to feel alone. How the prayer was answered I never knew until this evening. My Heavenly Father thought best to keep the knowledge from me for eighteen years. How much of His goodness to us we shall be ignorant of until it is revealed by the light of eternity! ‘Jesus, Lover of my soul’ has always been a favourite hymn with me; now it will be inexpressibly dear.”

Gospel Magazine.