"O, yes, I know he will; for he loved his own which were in the world; he loved them unto the end. But I am dying—and before I have done any good."
"O, do not say so," said James; "think, think what you have done, if only for me. God bless you for it! God will bless you for it; it will follow you to heaven; it will bring me there. Yes, I will do as you have taught me. I will give my life, my soul, my whole strength to it; and then you will not have lived in vain."
George smiled, and looked upward; "his face was as that of an angel;" and James, in his warmth, continued,—
"It is not I alone who can say this; we all bless you; every one in this place blesses you; you will be had in everlasting remembrance by some hearts here, I know."
"Bless God!" said George.
"We do," said James. "I bless him that I ever knew you; we all bless him, and we love you, and shall forever."
The glow that had kindled over the pale face of the invalid again faded as he said,—
"But, James, I must, I ought to tell my father and mother; I ought to, and how can I?"
At that moment the door opened, and Uncle Lot made his appearance. He seemed struck with the paleness of George's face; and coming to the side of the bed, he felt his pulse, and laid his hand anxiously on his forehead, and clearing his voice several times, inquired "if he didn't feel a little better."
"No, father," said George; then taking his hand, he looked anxiously in his face, and seemed to hesitate a moment. "Father," he began, "you know that we ought to submit to God."