Your Boys | Page 7

go with you. You know Who that is."
You should have heard the boys all over that hut whisper, "Yes,
sir--Jesus."
"Well," I said, "I want every man that is anxious to take Jesus with him
into the trench to stand."
Instantly and quietly every man in that hut stood up. And we prayed as
men can pray only under those conditions. We sang together, "For ever
with the Lord." I shall never sing that hymn again without a lump in my
throat. My mind will always go back to those dear boys.
We shook hands and I watched them go, and then on my way to the
little cottage where I was billeted I heard feet coming behind me, and
presently felt a hand laid upon my shoulder. Two grand handsome
fellows stood beside me. One of them said,
"We didn't manage to get into the hut, but we stood at the window to
your right. We heard all you said. We want you to pray for us. We are

going into the trenches, too. We can't go until it is settled."
We prayed together, and then I shook hands with them and bade them
good-bye. They did not come back. Some of their comrades
came--those two, with others, were left behind. But they had settled
it--they had settled it.
* * * * *
Two or three days after that I was in a hospital when one was brought
in who was at that service. I thought he was unconscious, and I said to
the Sister beside me, "Sister, how battered and bruised his poor head
is!"
He looked up and said, "Yes, it is battered and bruised; but it will be all
right, Gipsy, when I get the crown!"
One night I had got about fifty boys round me in a dug-out, with the
walls blown out and bits of the roof off. I had taken some hymn-sheets,
for I love to hear them sing. I never choose a hymn for them--I always
let them choose their own hymns. There is wisdom in that. If they have
asked for something and don't sing it, I can come down on them.
Among the great hymns they choose are these:
"Jesu, Lover of my soul,"
and I have heard them sing,
"Cover my defenceless head,"
with the shells falling close to them. I have heard them sing,
"I fear no foe ..."
with every seat and every bit of building round us rocking with the
concussion of things. And then they will choose:
"The King of Love my Shepherd is," "The Lord's my Shepherd, I'll not
want," "Abide with me," "There is a green hill far away," "Rock of ages,

cleft for me,"
and the one they love, I think, most of all is,
"When I survey the wondrous Cross."
Those are the hymns they sing, the great hymns of the Church--the
hymns that all Christian people sing, about which there is no
quarrelling. It's beautiful to hear the boys.
That night I said, "I have brought some hymn-sheets. I thought we
might have some singing, but I'm afraid it's too dark."
Instantly one of the boys brought out of his tunic about two inches of
candle and struck a match, and in three minutes we had about twenty
pieces of candle burning. It was a weird scene.
After the hymns I began to talk, and the candles burnt lower, and some
of them flickered out, and I could see a boy here and there twitch a bit
of candle as it was going out.
I said, "Put the candles out, boys. I can talk in the dark."
It was a wonderful service, and here and there you could hear the boys
sighing and crying as they thought of home and father and mother. It
isn't difficult to talk to boys like that.
* * * * *
There is no hymn of hate in your boys' hearts. I have known them take
a German prisoner even after he has played the cruel thing; but there!
he looked hungry and wretched, and in a few minutes they have shared
their rations and cigarettes with him. I call that a bit of religion
breaking out in an unlikely place. The leaven's in the lump, thank God!
* * * * *
I was speaking at a convalescent camp. Every one of the boys had been
badly mauled and mangled on the Somme. This particular day I had

about seven or eight hundred listeners. It was evening, and when I had
talked to the boys, I said,
"I wonder if any of you would like to meet me for a little prayer?"
And from all over the camp came the answer, "Yes, sir; yes, sir; yes,
sir."
There was a big room there--we called