We have had some to die peacefully and happily. One poor fellow who had long been sick with typhoid fever died last week. When I questioned him about his preparation for death, his answer was scarcely articulate, but in his thick mutterings I could distinguish these blessed words of trust in the Saviour, “He will not let me perish.” Upon asking another why he was not afraid to die, he said: “Because I am going home to heaven, through Christ.” Another, a little while before he died, said: “ I love God.” I find a number of them are members of the Church. Testaments are greatly coveted, and you can scarcely walk through the wards at any time without seeing some of them engaged in reading the sacred word. Divine service has been held several times for the convalescents—and we frequently assemble them for evening prayer.
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