Five days afterwards, he felt he was dying, and sending for the doctor, he thanked him for all his kindness, and begged him to remain and see him die, trusting Jesus to the last moment of his life. He tried to stay, but it was too much for his Jewish feelings to see that dying youth rejoicing in the love of the Jesus whose very name he had been taught to hate, and he hurriedly left the room. Twenty minutes after, he was again summoned to that bed, and, asking him to take his hand, Charlie said, "Doctor, I love you because you are a Jew. The best Friend I have found in this world was a Jew, Jesus Christ, to whom I want to introduce you before I die; and will you promise me, doctor, that what I am about to say to you you will never forget?" The doctor promised, and the lad went on--"Five days ago, while you amputated my arm and leg, I prayed the Lord Jesus Christ to convert your soul." These words sank into the doctor's heart. How could that sufferer, in the midst of such intense pain, be thinking only of his Saviour and an unconverted soul? and he could only answer, "Well, my dear boy, you will soon be all right." With these words he left him, and a few minutes later the youth fell asleep in Jesus, at seventeen years of age. Dr. Rossvally followed him to the grave, and for some months the impression his patience and faith had made upon him still remained. Gradually it wore off, however; and for ten years longer he remained a despiser of the Saviour, when God, in mercy, sent another message to His wandering child. At the close of the American War, Dr. Rossvally had been made inspecting surgeon, with charge of the military hospital in Texas. Returning one day from an inspecting tour, he stopped at an hotel in New York, and going to be shaved, he found the barber's shop hung around with beautifully framed Scripture texts; and what was more, the barber began to speak to him of Jesus in such an attractive way, that Charlie Coulson's happy death came vividly before his mind. The doctor's mind was deeply moved, and when he reached Washington, where he resided, for the first time in his life he went to hear an address in a Christian place of worship, and he could not restrain the tears that would flow while he listened; and when the service was ended, an elderly lady spoke to him before he could escape. He told her he would pray to his God--the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob--but not to Jesus. "Bless your soul," was the earnest answer, "your God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is my Christ, and your Messiah!" He went home full of conflicting feelings, and then for hours he wept and prayed, while many prophecies concerning the Messiah came to his mind, and at length the conviction came that Jesus was the Christ, that He was his Saviour, and that God had forgiven him for the sake of His beloved Son.