e cases to visit those
from whom others shrank lest they should catch the contagion of the
disorder. The scenes of suffering and distress which he witnessed
baffled description. On one occasion he entered a room where a whole
family were smitten with cholera. The wife lay cold and dead in one
corner of the room, a child had just expired in another corner, and the
husband and father was dying, amidst excruciating pain, in the middle of
the room. John knelt down and spoke words of Christian comfort to the
man, who died in a few moments.

[Sidenote: HE VISITS THE SICK.]

For years, he was in the habit of accompanying Mr. Jones, when visiting
the miserable garrets, obscure yards, and wretched alleys in Hull, and
was considered his 'right hand man,' in helping to hold open-air
services. They often went in company to such wretched localities as
'Leadenhall Square,' then the greatest cesspool of vice in the Port,
and, well supplied with tracts, visited every house. During the
intervals of public worship, on the Sabbath day, when he might have been
enjoying himself in the circle of his family, on a clean hearth, before
a bright fire, he was pointing perishing sinners to the Lamb of God.
When our new and beautiful chapel in Great Thornton Street was
discovered to be on fire, at noon,--March, 1856, he was at the bedside
of an afflicted woman, Mrs. Wright, speaking to her of her past sins and
of a precious Saviour. He had spent some time with her daily for months,
but just at this time he became Foreman of the Victoria Dock and could
no longer pay his daily visits to the sick, which greatly distressed
Mrs. Wright and others; but duty called him elsewhere and he obeyed its
voice. He says, 'I durst not make any fresh engagements to visit the
sick, and up to the present time (1867) I have rarely been able to
visit, except on the Sabbath day, all my time being required at the dock
gates. But on the Sabbath I love to get to the bedside of the sick;
nothing does me more good; there my soul is often refreshed and my zeal
invigorated.'

Those who are most averse to religion in life, generally desire to share
its benefits in death. Their religion is very much like the great coats
which persons of delicate health wear in this changeable climate, and
which they use in foul weather, but lay aside when it is fair. 'Lord,'
says David, 'in trouble they visited thee, they poured out a prayer when
thy chastening was upon them.'

[Sidenote: AC