The Life And Ministry Of Henry Hercock

Gospel Standard 1881:

Death. On Aug. 28th, 1881, aged 70, Mr. Henry Hercock, Minister of the Gospel, Leeds.

In writing these few lines about the latter stages of the pilgrimage of my dear father, Henry Hercock, I desire not to exalt him, but the grace of God which shone in him. The Lord was pleased to bestow on him a large portion of meekness of spirit, which was exhibited in all his dealings. Yet he would, with Paul, express his conviction of a sense of sinnership, and confess himself to be the chief of sinners. He showed this humility of spirit in his daily conversation, proving thereby that the Spirit of Christ dwelt in him.

His disease (cancer) precluded the possibility of much conversation during his last illness; but what he did say tended to the conviction that he felt himself firmly fixed on the “Rock of Ages;” and that his hope was centred in Christ, and there alone. Having proved the Lord to be faithful upwards of half a century, and having preached the glorious gospel of the grace of God for more than thirty-six years, he died in the full conviction that what he had preached would stand when he himself had passed away.

Shortly before my dear father entered the infirmary, the following verse was much on his mind:

“When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of woe shall not thee overflow;
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.”

His illness first begun about October; but it was not till the spring of the present year that he was induced to consult a physician. On finding it was cancer, he went under an operation in the Leeds Infirmary, and for a short time all appeared to go on well; and he was able to preach a few times, though very weak. He thought he should recover up to a few days before the end; but another cancer making its appearance, he once more entered the infirmary, only to be carried out a few days before his death. As he lay in the infirmary, he saw a person die close beside him. He said, “I tried to pray for him, feeling that

‘None but Jesus
Can do helpless sinners good.’

I am a witness to it; and 1 want him now, for I believe I have an interest in him.”

He appeared to have very little darkness. On July 31st, he said, “I awoke with those words on my mind:

‘We shall be conquerors all, ore long,
And more than conquerors too.'”

He remarked that he had often felt ashamed of his sermons, and feared he should not do better. He wrote several letters to his family whilst in the infirmary, and all of them breathed a Christian-like resignation to the will of God, and an entire dependence upon it, knowing that what he did must be right.

He desired to be taken home to die; and though he evidently had no fear of death, yet he expressed a wish to live; but left it with him who “does all things well.”

He was taken home on the Monday before his death. His mind was clear up to the last, and his thoughts were evidently dwelling upon the things of eternity. He, as before said, thought he should recover up to a few days before the end; but the doctor told him he must die. On hearing which he calmly said, “Then we must part.”

Thus, trusting in the merits of a precious Christ, and relying on the atonement and finished work of the dear Redeemer, he could face death with calmness, feeling assured that all would be well. “Yes,” he said, speaking of those who had to undergo painful operations, “the wicked can only look at things gloomily, whether for the past, the present, or the future; but I hope we can look back at the goodness of God amidst our sorrows, which brightened all the scene; and we can look forward in hope of a better world—all through grace, even the grace of our God.” This was a confirmation of what he had written in August 17th, when he said, “I have been in great pain;” and then added, “We shall have to praise the Lord for all things through which we must pass.”

Upon his dear wife making a remark, he said he should soon see Jesus. This proves that his thoughts were fixed upon Christ.

He often said he had no wish to live, only that he might preach the gospel. “For,” he said, “I have had such a discovery of a holy God, and a sight of the heinous nature of sin, that I am made to think what must it be in his pure eyes!”

During the last week he was too weak to talk. He also slept a great deal. But in the intervals of consciousness he appeared to be resting in Christ; and evidently felt that it was well with him. He was frequently heard to be both in prayer and praise.

He had the welfare of the church of God much at heart, and frequently prayed for it. He was once heard to exclaim, “Happy, happy!”

He had little pain for the last few days, and his exclamation shows that he had no darkness; and so he peacefully passed away, a sweet smile having passed over his countenance just before. He died on Lord’s day morning, August 28th, at half-past seven, aged 70 years. So the Lord verified his promise to be with his people all through their journey.

He was buried in the Leeds Cemetery by Mr. Coughtrey, of Nottingham. Six God-fearing men carried him to the grave; and some of the congregation from the room in Basinghall Street, where he preached his last sermon, sang that beautiful hymn of Berridge’s over his grave, beginning:

“O happy soul, who safely passed,
Thy weary warfare here ;
Arrived at Jesus’ seat at last,
And ended all thy care.”

C. J. HERCOCK.