A very touching little diary has been preserved, in which Mr. Carter had noted down the progress of his little boy’s illness, with such comments as the following.
“January 28. Hope and despair vibrating in our minds. Extremely wretched,—the gloomiest day we have had.”
“January 29. The poor dear boy sinking fast, his limbs wasting to a skeleton, eyes as bright as ever,—perfectly collected. Prayed with him several times. He seemed to pierce through me with his keen eyes, as if he understood all that was said and meant, though he could not speak.”
“ January 30. The last and severest day of all. His eyes were bright as ever, but his whole powers were evidently giving way. Even then when I prayed with him he seemed intensely interested, as if he were aware that he was encountering the king of terrors. About midnight he put out his lips to kiss papa and mamma, and seemed to bid us a last farewell. At three o’clock precisely on Friday morning, the 31st of January, he breathed his last, without a struggle or a groan. His spirit gently departed to his Father and his God. May his departure be blessed to his mourning friends! If these things were done in the green tree, what shall be done in the dry? O that we and all dear to us may be enabled to say, We shall go to him, but he will not return to us! Go to him! Where and what is he? All glorious! all light! all love! His active spirit bathes in the fountain of bliss. ‘Alleluia!’ let us hear him exultingly exclaim, ‘Alleluia! Glory to the Lamb, who has washed me in his blood and presented me pure and spotless before his Father’s throne!’”
He writes again:—
