A CHRISTIAN gentleman in the neighborhood of London, called at the house of Captain S— to visit his daughter on the day of her decease. After speaking to the child about the momentous concerns of her soul, and praying with her, he rose to depart, when she stayed him with these words: “There is something, sir, which I wish you would do for me.”
“I shall be happy, my dear,” he replied, “to serve you. in any way.”
“I have something which I wish you to give away for me; I want to make you my executor.”
The gentleman supposed that she had, probably, some little ornaments which she would employ him, as a friend, to distribute for her; but he soon found that he was mistaken; for the dying child, lifting her feeble hand, and pointing to her Bible, which lay on a table near, said, “I wish you would present that Book to my sister when I am dead. I fear she does not read it so much as she ought.”
A short time after this she breathed her last, at the age of eleven years.
How is it that, on the bed of death, more interest is felt in the good of souls than in the time of health?
ML 11/27/1904