"Mr. Frank Gilbert, a good man, and, I believe, a real Christian, having come to town to preach — for he is a Methodist minister — sent a note, kindly inquiring after him, and intimating, if it would be agreeable to him, he would visit him in the morning. He said, by all means, he should be very glad to see him. I said, 'My love, you know I have great faith in the prayers of God's people; suppose you should beg an interest in them this afternoon?' He answered, 'My dear, do you think they will forget me?' I said, 'I hope, my love, you are not ashamed to desire the prayers of the people of God; it is not now a time to mind the ridicule of the world.' He said, 'No, Bell, I care not a
farthing for the whole world, and you may make it my own request.'
"His disorder gained ground very fast that day, and I began to be much alarmed; yet still I thought it would not end in death, but though severe and dangerous, was sent in answer to my repeated, earnest prayers to awaken in him a real concern about his eternal interest, to set the world and its vanities in their true light, and bring about that entire change of heart which our blessed Lord styles the new birth, and without which, he says, we cannot enter the kingdom of heaven.
"It was now become very difficult for him to speak; but by the motion of his hands and eyes, which were continually lifted up when he had the smallest respite, I could easily see his thoughts were fixed on the importance of his situation; besides, many sentences and half sentences broke from his lips at different times, which left me without a doubt. 'Farewell,' said he, 'vain world; an idle world it is, nothing but shadows, and we keep chasing them as children do bubbles of water, till they break, and we find them nothing but air.'
"Observing this inward recollection, I seldom disturbed him. He was perfectly acquainted with the truth, and believed it. The doctrines of religion were often the subject of our conversation, and in every point of faith we entirely agreed: they only wanted to be felt and applied to the heart. I remained in silence to my dear husband, but not to my God: I was incessant in prayer, begging and beseeching that the Lord himself would carry on what he had so graciously begun — that he would every way suit himself to his necessities, and give conviction or consolation, as he
saw needful; but when he spoke I endeavored to answer him from God's own word, as I was able or assisted. Once he exclaimed, 'Draw me, and I will run after thee;' at another time, 'Surely thou wilt not allow thy blessed Son to plead in vain for me, an obstinate sinner.' This was a degree of faith, and I endeavored to strengthen it. I said, 'My love, you know the way to the Father, through Christ, the only Mediator. You say right, he cannot plead in vain; fly to him; cast yourself at his feet; trust in him; hear his own invitation, 'Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest;' 'him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out.' At another time these words broke from his lips, 'Form me, train me, prepare me for thyself.' Here was a breathing after sanctification; might not the promise be applied, 'I will create a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within thee.'
"In the evening the physicians again attended, but could hardly get a word from him. While they sat by the bedside I went out to the gallery with Mrs. Grandidier; the apparent struggle she had to conceal her distress, the compassion and sympathy in her countenance struck me. I easily perceived she gave up hope, and, I began to suspect, not from her own judgment alone; she advised me to send away my children to a friend's house, and to send for a person who was capable of assisting me, it being no longer proper for me to be alone. Thus far I had not allowed any person to do the least thing about him but myself, nor stirred from his bedside, except for a few minutes, to pour out my soul into the bosom of my God. I hardly, if ever, prayed for his recovery, being willing the
rod should remain till it effected the purpose for which it was sent, and then I believed it would be removed — as if the Lord was to follow exactly the rules prescribed by my weak, foolish, ignorant heart.
"Hitherto I had suffered little, believing all to be the answer to my prayers; but I had not seriously thought of parting with him. I was now truly alarmed, and determined to know, as far as appearances went, the worst. Accordingly I stopped Dr. Bowie on the gallery: 'Tell me, doctor,' said I, 'what have I to expect? It is cruel to flatter me: if you give me some warning, and prepare me, I may perhaps be able to support it; but if you suffer it to come upon me all at once, I shall certainly sink under the shock.' He was silent for some time, and then replied, 'I am really at a loss how to answer you.' I said, 'I will answer for you, there is no hope.' He said, 'God forbid — he is in great danger; but still there is hope; and if you value his life, be calm.' I was composed. Strange composure; I neither cried nor complained; tears were denied a passage; I was fixed and dumb like a statue. Can I, or any one else, describe my situation, or what I felt at that moment? It was urged of what consequence it was that I should be composed, that I might be able to do my duty to him, as no one could supply my place to his satisfaction, and perhaps even now he might be in want of me. I returned to my post, which was, except when doing some necessary office about him, generally on my knees by his bedside, partly that I might not lose the least whisper that came from his lips, and partly because it is my favorite posture for prayer, from which I could not cease, no, not for one minute.