“Well, that may be or it may not be,” said Mr Stuart with a sudden access of energy, “nevertheless I believe that I am a dying man, and I have sent for you on purpose to tell you that I am an ass—a consummate ass.”
“My dear Stuart,” remonstrated the colonel, “really, you are taking a very warped view of—”
“I—am—an—ass,” repeated the sick man, interrupting his friend; “more than that, you are an ass too, colonel.”
The colonel was a very pompous and stately man. He had not been honoured with his true title since he left school, and was therefore a good deal taken aback by the plain-speaking of his friend. He attributed the words, however, to the weak condition of Mr Stuart’s mind, and attempted to quiet him, but he would not be quieted.
“No, no, colonel; it’s of no use trying to shut our eyes to the fact. You and I have set our hearts on the things of this world, and I have now come to see that the man who does that is a fool.”
“My dear fellow,” said the colonel soothingly, “it is bodily weakness that induces you to think so. Most people speak thus when they are seriously ill; but they invariably change their opinion when they get well again.”
“You are wrong, colonel. I am now convinced that they do not change their opinions. They may change their wills, but their opinions must remain the same. The conclusion which I have now come to has been forced upon me by cool, logical reasoning; and, moreover, it has more than once flashed upon me in the course of my life, but I shut my eyes to it. The approach of death has only opened them to see very clearly what I was more than half aware of before. Do not suppose that I make this confession of my folly to you in order to propitiate the Deity. I do not for a moment expect that the God whom I have neglected all my life can be humbugged in this way. No, I have deliberately cast Him off in time past, and I recognise it as my due that He should cast me off now. It is too late to repent, so I suppose that there is no hope for me.”
Mr Stuart paused here a few minutes. The shade of doubt expressed in his last words was occasioned by the recollection of the clergyman’s assurance that it was never too late to repent; that the finished work of Jesus Christ, (which leaves nothing for a man to do but to “believe and live”), would avail the sinner at the latest hour.
The colonel sat gazing at his friend in silence. Presently the sick man resumed as though he had not paused:—
“Therefore what I say to you now is not intended as a propitiatory offering, but is the result of clear and calm conviction. Now listen to me, for I feel getting weak. Let me entreat you to forgive your daughter. Will you take that entreaty into earnest consideration? I do not ask you to promise. It is folly to make men promise what they don’t want to do. The chances are that they’ll break the promise. I only ask you to take this subject into your serious consideration. It is the request of a dying man. Will you grant it?”