Ellen G. White: The Lonely Years: 1876-1891 (vol. 3)


Chapter 14—(1881) The Tired Warrior at Rest

On the balmy afternoon of the Sabbath, August 6, quite a large number of solemn-faced Adventists residing in Battle Creek drifted to the grounds of the Sanitarium and milled around the lobby of the main building. They had come to keep vigil for James White. These were his friends, those with whom he had worked, and members of the church he had pastored. They had come knowing that James White, critically ill at the Sanitarium, had just taken a serious turn for the worse. In the early afternoon the report was whispered that he was unconscious and very near death's door. Not a few were seen to furtively wipe away tears. It was all so sudden, so tragic. 3BIO 168.1

Just a week before, they had seen him accompanying his wife to the Tabernacle and join her on the platform. Now, any moment he would breathe his last. They felt they must be near. At five-fifteen, the dreaded word came: James White was dead. The people were stunned. 3BIO 168.2

Some called to mind that just a few days before they had read his editorial in the Review carrying the title “Words of Comfort,” dealing with the Christian's hope. In this he asked the question “Is there hope beyond the grave?” Then he cited compelling Scripture evidence that clearly showed that “the hope of the gospel dispels the gloom that enshrouds the grave of the just.”—The Review and Herald, July 26, 1881. 3BIO 168.3