06.13. It Is A Comfort To The Dying

13. IT IS A COMFORT TO THE DYING

It is said that when Sir Walter Scott lay dying he said to the attendant, "Bring me the Book." "What Book?" asked the attendant. "There is only one Book," said the dying man, "and that is the Bible." Nowhere else can we find such comfort when the mists are gathering round our bed. There is no comfort in infidelity. I call the infidel to my dying bedside and say, "I’m dying, give me something on which I can pillow my head, give me oars to steer my boat, give me something to lean on as I pass over the tide." And the world’s greatest infidel leans over my dying cot and says, "Life is a narrow veil betwixt the cold barren peaks of two eternities, we strive in vain to reach the heights, we cry aloud and the only answer is the echo of our own dying voice." Oh, there is no comfort in that, there is nothing there on which I can lean. Bring me the Bible and let me read, "Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." Let me place my ear to this old book and hear the immortal question of Job as it comes ringing down through the ages, "If a man die shall he live again?" Let me listen as the answer comes ringing back from the lips of the Son of God, "Yes! for the day shall come when the dead shall hear his voice and they that sleep in the grave shall come forth." Oh, there is comfort in that, such comfort that I am willing to stake my life on it while living and pillow my head upon it when I breathe my last.