A hospital in Scotland, seven or eight hundred wounded men there, many of them dying. A Christian writing to me about the hospital says: “One poor lad last week I saw, his head swathed in bandages, only his face to be seen, and that covered with disease. I said to the orderly, ‘This lad seems to be very ill.’ ‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘there is no hope of his recovery.’ He then entered a door close by, and after closing the door he began dancing to music from a gramophone. This showed how much respect was paid to the dying man. Dear lad, someone’s son, one for whom Christ died. All I could do was to say in his ear, ‘God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’ May the Lord Jesus bless this sowing of the good seed, His own precious Word. I see by your booklets that you invite workers to ask for books. I will gladly distribute any that you care to send me. ―Yours in our Lord, J. R―.”