"No, sir, no: it is a man's meat and drink, if he loves the Lord, to do what he bids him." "Where were you before you came into this infirmary?" "In the parish workhouse of S---." "Have you a wife?" "She died some years since, and got to her heavenly home before me." "Have you any children?" "Yes, sir, I have two sons married, and settled in the world with families. One of them has been here to see me lately, and I hope he is in a good way for his own soul, and brings up his children in the fear of God." "Have you any worldly cares upon your mind?" "_Not one_, sir. I am come to this house, I plainly see, to end my days; for this mortification in my leg must, before it be very long, bring me to the grave. And I am quite willing, sir, to go, or to wait the Lord's own time. I want nothing, sir, but more grace to praise him." Which last words he often repeated in the course of the conversation. "You have reason," I said, "to feel thankful that there is such a house as this for poor and sick people to be brought to, for both food, lodging, and medicine." "That I have, indeed, sir; it is a house of mercies to me, and I am ashamed to hear how unthankful many of the patients seem to be for the benefits which the Lord provides for them here. But, poor creatures, they neither know nor love him. The Lord have mercy upon them, and show them the right way. I should never have known that good way, sir, if he had not taken compassion upon me, when I had none upon myself." Tears ran down his aged cheeks as he spoke these last words. "Here," thought I, "is a poor man that is very rich, and a weak man that is very strong." At this moment the nurse brought in his dinner. "There, sir, you see, more and more mercies! The Lord takes care of me, and sends me plenty of food for this poor, old worn-out body." "And yet," said I, "that poor old worn-out body will one day be renewed and become a glorified body, and live along with your soul in the presence of God for ever." "That's right, sir," said the good old man, "so it will: 'though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.' But, come, sir," seeing me look at my watch, "you must speak a word _to_ your Master, if you please, as well as _for_ him. I will put down my dinner while you pray with me." I did so, the man often adding his confirmation of what I offered up by voice, gesture, and countenance, in a manner highly expressive of the agreement of his heart with the language of the prayer. Having ended, he said, "God be with you, sir, and bless your labours to many poor souls! I hope you will come to see me again, if my life be spared. I am so glad to see those who will talk to me about Jesus Christ, and his precious salvation."