For John's Sake Part 25

"Poor fellow! it's a wonder to me how he can bear so much suffering and never open his lips to complain," answered the nurse, turning her kindly eyes towards the adjoining bed, where lay Richard Seymour, wasted by the ravages of a sore disease, doubtless the result of early excess and long years of intemperance. After witnessing a good confession of his faith before unG.o.dly companions, and for his Master's sake enduring scorn and persecution n.o.bly, he had suddenly been laid low on the bed of death.

"You needn't make any wonder of it, nurse," he answered; "I don't feel as if I could grumble at my pain when my blessed Lord suffered on the cross for me--praise His dear name!"

"Queer kind of a chap, ain't he?" said the man who had first spoken, moving uneasily in his bed.

"Ay, Jim, I wish you knew what it was to feel 'queer' after the same fas.h.i.+on. You may if you like, you know; the same mercy's for you as for me, and O, mates!" said Richard, looking round upon the rows of faces that were turned towards him; "it may be 'queer;' but it's worth while havin' somethin' that will make you so happy when you come to face death, that you can't sleep for thinkin' of the blessed Saviour, and how He's waitin' for you."

So Richard testified to his fellow-sufferers until the last. Early one morning the nurse heard him whisper faintly: "I'll soon be at home over there." The next moment he quietly closed his eyes in death. Verily, a brand plucked from the burning, a sinner saved by grace.

[Ill.u.s.tration]