Oct 26. Hearing that Mr. Tiptaft was in the house, he requested that he would come and see him, and pray for him. Mr. Tiptaft did so, and read Hart's Hymn on sickness, "To thee, O God, I make my plaint." Mr. Tiptaft put several questions to him, and asked him if he would like to get well again and play about? He replied, "I should like to get well again, not to play, but to go to chapel and hear you preach." 27. Our own medical man came from London to see him, and consult the doctor in attendance on him, and after an examination told his mamma (who was with him) that he believed forty-eight hours would terminate his sufferings; this was, indeed, heavy tidings. We felt it right to inform him the doctor's opinion, and did so. He looked calmly up, and said, "Must I die? Oh, pray for me! Read that chapter about Hezekiah. Pray that I may recover." I replied, "I would rather pray that your sins may be pardoned." "Yes," he replied. Hearing that our dear friend, Mr. Tanner, was preaching at Abingdon, he said, "Give my love to him, and ask him to come and see me." He then began to sick, and to all appearance the icy hand of death was upon him; his distress became greater, and be begged us all to pray for him, calling his kind instructor and friend to pray aloud for him, which he did. Nothing quieted him and soothed his severe sufferings so much as reading the Scriptures, which he frequently requested us to do. Perceiving his lips moving, I put my ear down, and heard him praying thus:-"Lord, write my name in Thy book, and blot out my sins. O Lord, remember me, for Christ's sake; O God, be merciful to me, a sinner." Then he cried out, "Mamma, pray "Out for me." His mamma assured him she did. aloud," he said; "but if you cannot, sit still and pray without speaking." He frequently inquired what time it was, and if Mr. Tanner had come. Early in the morning, he calmly bade farewell to several of his schoolfellows and his younger brother, telling him to give McKenzie's Fragments to Miss W a friend who had waited upon him. He then told me what to do with his books, &c. We hardly thought he would live to see Mr. Tanner. He did, however, and was in great agony when Mr. T. entered his dying chamber. He requested Mr. T. to pray that his sins might be pardoned, telling him, "Two doctors say I must die." Mr. T. asked him if he felt he was a sinner. "Yes," he emphatically said. "How long have you felt so ?" He said, "Ever since I have been ill; oh, do pray for me; kneel down now!" Mr. T. did so, and when beseeching for him, his face brightened; and after Mr. T. left, he greatly revived, to our great surprise. His mamina asked him if he felt better. He said, "Yes." I asked him, "What made you better, have you more hope?" He replied, "Yes, I have a little hope." He did not sink so low again; but still entreated his friends to pray for him, and earnestly requested Mr. T. to come again and read and pray ere he left, saying, "I must see him; tell him to come up." That hymn of Hart's "How sore a plague is sin To those by whom 'tis felt," was much upon his mind, and he requested it to be read to him; also, the 18th chapter of Luke, which encourages to prayer; with the parable of the pharisee and the publican, and Bartimeus receiving his sight. After remaining quiet for a time, he called me to him, and said where are these words "To own with contrition His breathing became more distressing; he kept us reading to him. His end was drawing nigh. I anxiously watched the Lord's appearing. His bodily sufferings were agonizing to witness; he bore them patiently, and during his last struggles he looked up and said, "I shall mourn no more! I want to die. I want to go to Jesus." Then raised his head further on his pillow, and gently breathed his soul into the hands of his Creator. Thus died my beloved brother, on the 28th of October, 1861, aged eleven years and two months. "The struggle is o'er, the spirit is free, He is fled to be happy, dear Jesus, with thee; The following extract is from a letter I received from a friend since his decease: "I well remember a walk to Nuneham, two years last July, when darling Joshua and his little sister Ellen were my sole companions thither, and I could not but remark the striking questions and thoughtful observations of Joshua by the way. Amongst many particular observations, he said, 'I think this is a very sweet word from the New Testament, don't you? This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners. This is very sweet.' And then he wanted to know how long we shall remain in our coffins before we go to heaven; then he spoke of his own name, and its signification, and of Joshua standing, &c., with the filthy garments, as in the prophecies. I was greatly struck with his conversation, and felt such love to the sweet little speaker, I cannot describe. But how little did it occur to me I should hear his voice no more, or listen again to the Bible words he was so pleased to quote and remark upon." In conclusion, I would say, Whatever good thing there was in him towards the Lord God of Israel (1 Kings xiv. 13) was the gift of God and all of grace. It is a good thing to be convinced of sin, not only outward sin, but to have the eyes turned within, to feel the hidden evils of the heart, and to mourn over them, and confess them in secret before God. Repentance towards God is a good thing. To cry from the heart to God for mercy through Christ is a good thing. To experimentally feel, To whom shall I go but unto thee, for thou hast the words of eternal life?" To fear the Lord, and hope in His mercy, through the Lord Jesus Christ, in deed and in truth, are tokens of the Lord's favour, grace, and love, and are good things, and those who possess them when they die will "Mourn no more," and "Be with Jesus" for ever and ever. He was buried at Abney Park Cemetery with this inscription over his grave: "I SHALL MOURN NO MORE!" In Memory of J. S., who fell asleep, 29th October, 1861, aged 11 years. "Not dead, but immortal." It was high noon, but Autumn's golden light Upon his couch the quiet sufferer lay, There lay deep earnest of a spirit's joy Joy that had fled from the heart-stricken mourners. And there was silence now (save when a sigh Burst from the fulness of a broken heart), Till his white lips unclosed, and the faint words Rose tremulously, "I shall mourn no more." O! could the bliss of that young heart have gushed In many words; had the uprising spirit Painted its journeying vision, it were thus:"Beloved! ye will sorrow when the night Closes upon your earth, and the dim light Of sun and star Hath vanished from me; when, through mist, ye see The shell, forsaken-though the spirit be In world's afar: Ye will have mourning when ye pass away And cover with the daisy-sod, the clay That early from the stage of life hath perished; "Ye will have pain and sickness, death and woe, And sin will mar and taint each treasured story: Yet I shall mourn no more!" "No more! nay, in the region where the voice Of Jesus calleth me, there doth rejoice Eternal spring: |