p. 11 | A Companion in Trouble by W. A. S.

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Apr 14, 1910

A Companion in Trouble

By W. A. S.

IN the early days of Methodism, a minister of the Welsh Calvinistic Methodist Church, John Jones, of Flintshire, was traveling on horseback through a desolate region in northern Wales. According to his account, reprinted years ago in the London Christian Herald, he observed a rough-looking man, armed with a reaping hook, following him on the other side of a hedge, aiming to come up with him at a gate where it was necessary for the horseman to dismount.

The minister had a bag of money which he had collected for chapel building, and felt that not only the money, but possibly his life, was in danger. He stopped his horse, and bowed his head to pray for special aid and protection. The horse was restive to go on, and on looking up after a moment of silent prayer, Jones saw a horseman on a white steed immediately alongside. He was surprised and unable to account for the sudden and welcome appearance of a companion at such a moment. He says:—

I described to the stranger the dangerous position in which I had been placed, and how relieved I felt by his sudden appearance. He made no reply; and on looking at his face, I saw that he was intently gazing in the direction of the gate. I followed his gaze, and saw the reaper emerge from his concealment, and run across a field to our left. He had evidently seen that I was no longer alone, and had given up his intended attempt.

All cause for alarm being now removed, I endeavored to enter into conversation with my deliverer, but again without the slightest success. Not a word did he give me in reply. I continued talking, however, as we rode toward the gate, though I utterly failed to see any reason for, and indeed felt rather hurt at, his silence. Only once did I hear his voice. Having watched the reaper disappear over the brow of a neighboring hill, I turned to my companion, and said, “Can it for a moment be doubted that my prayer was heard, and that you were sent for my deliverance by the Lord?” Then the horseman uttered the single word, “Amen.” Not another word did he give, though I continued endeavoring to get from him replies to my questions, both in English and in Welsh.

We were now approaching the gate. I hurried on my horse for the purpose of opening it, and, having done so, waited for him to pass through; he came not. I turned my head to seek for him—he was gone. I was dumbfounded. I looked back in the direction from which we had just been riding; he was not to be seen. He could not have gone through the gate, nor have made his horse leap the high hedges which on both sides shut in the road. Where was he? Could it be possible that I had seen no man or horse at all, and the vision was but a creature of my imagination? I tried hard to convince myself that this was the case, but in vain; for unless some one had been with me, why had the reaper, with his murderous-looking sickle, hurried away? No; this horseman was no creature of mine. Who could he have been?

I asked myself this question again and again, and then a feeling of profound awe began to creep over my soul. I remembered the singular manner in which he first appeared. I recollected his silence, and then again that the single word to which he had given utterance had been elicited from him by mentioning the name of the Lord, and that this was the only occasion on which I had done so. What could I then believe?—But one thing, and that was that my prayer had been heard, and that help had indeed been sent me at a time of peril. Full of this thought, I dismounted, and throwing myself on my knees at the side of the road, offered up a prayer of thankfulness to him who had so signally preserved me from danger.

I then mounted my horse and continued my journey. Through the years that have elapsed since that memorable July day, I have never for an instant wavered in the belief that I had a special providential deliverance.

There is the ring of genuineness in this testimony. Not a few times in the Bible story were human eyes opened to see the presence of the angel messengers. But our faith in the ministry of angels rests on no visible signs or impressions of the senses. We have the far surer word of the Lord that all the angels are ministering spirits, sent forth to minister to the heirs of salvation. It is a comforting thought that the same angels who appeared to men in Bible times, and who

have been the agents of God’s overruling providence in all these six thousand years of human history, are gathering round this little earth to-day for the final crisis in the great controversy. They that are with us are more than they which are against us. W. A. S.