p. 293 | I AM WITH YOU ALWAY by Mark Guy Pearse

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · May 20, 1889

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 15, No. 19.

"I AM WITH YOU ALWAY."

By Mark Guy Pearse

I HAVE read somewhere that in one of our English prisons there was an under-ground cell which was used as a place of punishment. Away from the rest of the prison, its utter loneliness and the awful darkness of the place made it greatly dreaded. Amongst the prisoners there was a man of refinement and nervous temperament, much unlike those about him, to whom the horror of this penalty was a fright that haunted him day and night. At length there was some alleged offense against the prison discipline, for which he was sentenced to four and twenty hours in this dungeon. He was led by the warders to the place; the door was opened, and he had to go down the stairs into its depths. The door was shut. The steps of the warders died in the distance; the outermost door was heard as its slamming echoed in the hollow places. Then all was still—a stillness that oppressed with terror amidst a darkness that could be felt. Nervous, and full of imagination, the man sank down paralyzed with fear. Strange and hideous shapes came out of the gloom and pointed at him. His brain throbbed as with fever, and mocking voices seemed to come from all sides. He felt that before long the terror must drive him mad. Then suddenly there came the sound of footsteps overhead; and in a quiet tone the chaplain called him by name. Oh, never was any music so sweet!

"God bless you," gasped the poor fellow. "Are you there?"

"Yes," said the chaplain, "and I am not going to stir from here until you come out."

"What, sir?" he cried, fearing that he must have mistaken the words.

"I am not going away so long as you are there," the chaplain repeated. "I heard you were here, and I knew what an agony it would be to you, so I came as soon as I could, and here I am going to stay."

The poor man could not thank him enough.

"God bless you," he cried. "Why, I don't mind it a bit now, with you there like that."

The terror was gone. The very darkness was powerless to hurt whilst his friend was so near, unseen, but just above.

Every now and then upon the silence came the cheery voice, "Are you all right?"

"God bless you, sir; I am all right now," replied the poor fellow, his voice almost choked with this gratitude and gladness.

Ah, so beside us ever He standeth, our Almighty and most loving Lord, our strength and solace! The darkness loses its terror, the fear is gone, the loneliness of life is over, for that blessed presence is a spell that destroys the power of all things to hurt us. He bendeth and whispereth to the heart, "Lo, I am with you alway." And we, what else can we do but look up and cry exultingly, "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me"?—Mark Guy Pearse.