In the spring of 1888 the same disease that cut down his mother and sister appeared in Henry, and he had to leave his place and go home. The teachers of the school and the friends around could see his days on earth must now be very few, and that he too, like Ellen, had come home to die. Yet he went to school a few times after this, and in May went to Hailsham to spend a few days with some friends. Here we had an opportunity of observing him closely, but he was scarcely able to say a word about himself. He was failing fast at this time, and truly it was sorrowful to see how feebly he moved about. When visiting the field on Whit Monday, where the Sunday School children were having their treat, what a contrast we beheld between the bright, healthy, happy children, and the poor, pale, languid, dying boy looking on!
Soon after this he went back home, and went out but little afterwards. He gradually wasted in body and strength, and could no longer attend the school, though living but a few yards from it.
And now came the time of testing the matter, whether there was anything of the work of the Holy Spirit in him, or whether it consisted in merely coming and going to and from the house of God.
Let our readers reflect, this time of testing is coming to every one of us, and we shall soon be brought where our young friend was—to lie down and die, and thus appear before God.
We will now give some particulars of his last words and exercises, and thus let our readers think for themselves what ground we have for our hope that this dear young lad is now in heaven.
His father writes thus of his concern—"I had watched him for some time, thinking I could see some signs of concern, and that he was different from what he had been. I was almost sure he had been at times trying to pray, but he would not let me see him if he could help it. According as his illness came on he took more to his Bible and hymn-book, and they were his daily and hourly companions. The friends in the school were much concerned about him, and talked to him about his soul, but could not get anything from him. Yet he seemed to like to hear them, so I asked him if he did not enjoy what they said. He said 'Yes,' but did not wish to say anything wrong, though he hoped that some of the things spoken were the workings of his mind. I was very much concerned about him myself, and my desire was, that the Lord would make it manifest that He had a favour toward him. Once, when about my work, I could not help asking the Lord for this, when these words came with some sweetness, 'At evening time it shall be light'; then I had a hope that the Lord would appear for him. Soon after this he had these words come with some power, 'When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee'; and then he expressed the hope that the Lord would be with him in the river of death.
"When he was confined to his bed he seemed very restless, and being in great exercise of mind, he folded his hands, and we could see his lips move, but could not hear the words.
"Once, when I came home late from my work, and went into his bed-room, he called me to him and said, 'I have had a blessed afternoon, for the Lord has been with me, and I can leave you all now, and everything of earth; and I believe that I shall go to heaven. I have prayed for you all.' I told him I was very glad—more so than if any one had given me gold, and asked him how it came to pass—whether it was by any word coming with power or otherwise? He said, 'No, but it was a sweet, humbling influence which so softened my heart, and drew my affections to the Lord Jesus. It enables me to bear my sufferings better, and I lie more comfortable.'
"A great change was seen in him after this. His mind seemed much brighter, and he laid more calm and quiet. I told him that he perhaps might feel after this comfort some distress of mind again, and he said, 'I have been in distress of mind, father, and the Lord has blessed me.' This was about a week before he died. We thought he would have been taken away sooner, and he felt so himself, for soon after his deliverance he called us all around him, and shook hands with us all, and gave each one something to keep in remembrance of him. I asked him then if he felt the Lord was with him. He said, 'Yes, I fancy I can see Him coming.' But he recovered from this, and I then said to him, 'The Lord did not come as soon as you expected?' and he answered, 'No; but I must wait the Lord's time.'
"He asked once that I would pray to the Lord to come and take him, and then asked his sisters to sing the hymn commencing, 'How sweet the name of Jesus sounds.' He then said, 'Oh, now I could sing!' I asked him if he could sing that hymn. He said, 'Yes, if I had breath.' Mr. Reed asked him if he could say that Jesus had done all things well. He answered, 'Yes, I have said so, and I can say it again.' He was then asked what his hopes for eternity were. He soon replied, 'Nothing but the blood and righteousness of the Lord Jesus Christ.'