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A Christian gentleman, who had manifested great interest in him, called at noon and spoke of the Saviour's love. Addressing a lad who was present, the gentleman expressed a hope that he prayed, and asked him to remember his dying companion in his prayers. Ellard looked up and said, "That boy says his prayers every night and morning."

In the evening he repeated the prayer I had taught him.

One of his companions had a dispute with him shortly before he was taken ill, and I was anxious that it should be settled, and friendship restored, before it was too late, as I well knew it would cast a gloom over the subsequent life of the survivor, and perhaps prove his ruin, were there not a reconciliation. After leaving Ellard, I waited some time for this lad's return to the Home, and, calling him aside, explained my anxiety on his behalf. The sympathetic chord was touched, and he wept aloud. When sufficiently composed, he went to Ellard's room, and falling upon his knees at his bedside, the tears flowing down his checks, he asked Ellard to forgive him. "O," said Ellard, "I forgave you long ago." This was too much for the penitent youth. Clasping his hands, and lifting his eyes to heaven, he prayed for his suffering companion. The scene was an exceedingly touching one, and the Superintendent and boys present were affected to tears; indeed, the former was so much overcome as to be obliged to retire for a few moments. Twice during the night Ellard requested the boys who were sitting up with him, to hold him in the posture of prayer on his bed, as he was too weak to leave it; and thus sustained, he prayed audibly. Who can doubt that that prayer was heard and answered by Him who inspired it? If not recorded before, surely the name of John Ellard was then written in the Book of Life. "Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out." John vi. 37.

Thursday, 15th. He was evidently much weaker today, and early in the morning suffered severe pain. He was more then ever anxious that Mr. Sloan should remain with him, and repeatedly asked him not to leave the room. Faithful to his charge, this Christian Superintendent was not absent from him five minutes during the day, but spent much of it on the bed, with the dying lad's arm around his neck, or resting his head upon his lap.

Awaking from a doze, he again said, "I would like to see all the boys; but if I cannot, just give them my respects." When I saw him at nine o'clock in the morning, he was free from pain, and evinced more interest in prayer than he had done before.

About eleven o'clock the pain returned, and rendered him very restless. He said, "I am going -- I am dying. O that I could see my father, and sister, and brother! but it is too late -- too late -- I am dying!"

Mr. Sloan asked if there was anything he would like to say before his death, when he replied, "Nothing, but send my best respects to . . . ." Shortly after, he cried, and said, "O, I am dying -- Mr. Sloan, what time is it?" Upon being informed that it wanted twentyfive minutes of twelve o'clock, he said, "Well, if any one wishes to see me, they must see me soon, for I will die by twelve." A Christian lady spoke to him of the Saviour, and not being able to speak, he nodded assent to what she said. Through her kindness, a softer bed was provided for him, for which he felt grateful. Quite a number of his companions visited him frequently, and he spoke to them when able do so.

Having expressed a wish for an orange, one was at once obtained. He urged those present to share it with him, and was not satisfied till he induced a child of the Superintendent's to take part of it. In the afternoon the pain left him, but he continued to grow weaker. A little after midnight be told Mr. Sloan that he was dying; and when asked if he was going to heaven, he answered, "Yes." "Do you feel that Jesus loves you?" "Yes." Can I see Mr. . . . ?" he then asked. The Superintendent replied in the affirmative, and said he would send for me. "Do, for I am dying." Two of the boys were sent for me. They hastened to my residence, but did not succeed in awakening me by ringing the bell. Fearing they might be arrested by the police if they knocked or remained long at the door at such an hour of the night, they returned to the Home. Soon after Ellard sent for me, and before I could have got to him, his glazed eye fixed in death, he said, "That aint Mr. . . . .," the last words spoken by him. At a quarter before three o'clock, his spirit returned to God who gave it. It gently passed away, while Mr. Sloan and three of the boys were praying at his bedside.

It was the opinion of the three medical gentlemen who visited him in his illness, that he might linger longer than he did, otherwise I should have been present at the departure of one in whom I had become so deeply interested.

"Unto whomsoever much is given of him shall much be required." The advantages and opportunities of each of us will be the weight by which we shall be tested when "weighed in the balances." Let us then charitably reflect upon the case of the forgiving, and I believe, forgiven, John Ellard, the Newsboy, whose advantages were small indeed, compared with those we have enjoyed.