LORD A. was a very rich man, but nor what people who love their Bibles would call wise. He did not knoll the Scriptures, neither did he cars that his boys should know them. But the mother of these boys taught texts of Scripture to her children every day, and prayed than God the Holy Spirit would bless what they learned to the saving of their souls, When the lads grew up to be men, war was declared against Russia, and the English army was sent to the Crimea. There was a great stir throughout these islands: many men longed to share with the army its toils and dangers, and, if needs be, were ready to lay down their lives also—amongst these was young Harry A. He entered the army, and was at once sent with his regiment to the Crimea, He was followed there by his mother’s prayers. She prayed that, if he was killed, his soul at least might be saved, even though it should be at the last moment. In a terrible battle Harry A., with many another brave fellow, got a mortal wound. He was carried off the field, and attended by a surgeon, who did what he could for him, told him his life was quickly drawing to a close, and left him with his servant to die.
There it was that the sweet gospel truths learned long ago at his mother’s knee, were brought to Harry’s mind, as he lay still and silent, by the Spirit of God. Life and strength were ebbing fast away, but, shortly before the end, he roused himself, and seemed to wish to speak. A friend near asked was there anything he could do for him, “Oh! no, not anything. My life is just over: but send this message home for me―just these few words ‘I have found Christ. Farewell, mother!’”