His thoughts again turn to the brevity of life, and he naturally questions himself as to how much longer he will be able to go on with the work he loves. These young souls in his care, whom he is trying to nurture as a wise and tender shepherd, will they remain faithful? He listens to the noise of war and strife, and prays for the time when peace shall come to India and Christianity will have many loyal witnesses, and the people will depart from darkness and see the light of life.
“How much longer,” he writes, “God may permit me to occupy my station is known to Him alone. My times are in His hands. He has heard my unworthy prayer that I may not become quite useless in old age.... A few months ago I seemed standing on the banks of eternity, being suddenly seized with a painful oppression on my chest. I consider it as a summons from my Lord to hold myself in readiness at whatsoever hour He may come.... I look upon this sudden illness as a kind monitor to teach me that my gracious Lord will soon call me away. May I be able to say, ‘Come, Lord Jesus!’ You see then that I shall soon quit this world. A blessed eternity is now the daily subject of my meditations. How awful is this change! Blessed be God Who hath sent us a Redeemer, who has borne our sins and purchased eternal happiness for all who, being sensible of their sins, ‘flee to Him for refuge.’ If we are reconciled to God by that blessed Redeemer we have no reason to be afraid of dying and quitting this world. Our whole life ought to be a preparation for death. May God give us grace to die to sin and the evil of the world, and to live to His glory, that when He calls us away, we may be prepared for that great change! To look up to the glorious state of the blessed in heaven is, and will be, a strong preservative of a true Christian.”
Such thoughts as these are common to people, especially the old, as they look heavenward.
The golden evening brightens in the west,
Soon, soon to faithful warriors cometh rest;
Sweet is the calm of paradise the blest.
When Henry Martyn was travelling in India in 1811, a Captain Kinsey, who had been brought up by Schwartz, told him: “It is said that Schwartz had a warning given him of his death. One clear moonlight night he saw a light and heard a voice which said to him, ‘Follow me.’ He got up and went to the door, here the vision vanished. The next day he sent for Dr. Anderson, and said, ‘An old tree must fall.’ On the doctor’s perceiving that there was nothing the matter with him, Schwartz asked him whether he perceived any disorder in his intellect, to which the doctor replied, ‘No.’ He and General Floyd (now in Ireland), another friend of Schwartz, came and stayed with him. The next fifteen days he was continually engaged in devotion and attended no more to the school; on the last day he died in his chair.”
He wrote his last letter to the Secretary of the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge on the 4th September, 1797, in which, with his clear, business-like attention to details, he speaks of the stores and presents, and gratefully thanks the good friends in England for all the generous support they had given to the work, and this he does for all the brethren who are his comrades and fellow-workers in the field. God had graciously preserved their lives and health so that he was still able to go through his accustomed work, though with less vigour than heretofore. He added that should his life be prolonged, he intended to give a full account of the mission at the end of the year, and concluded with a prayer that God would prosper the work of their revered superiors. He evidently looked forward later on to a detailed report of his stewardship, and the position and future prospects of the mission. But God disposed otherwise.
A month after dispatching this letter he was taken ill with hoarseness and a sudden cold, and his old friend, Dr. Kennedy, hastened to his side and gave him all the relief possible. But his sickness was very distressing, and he had to endure much pain. It was a comfort to him that his colleague, Mr. Kohlhoff, was present during this indisposition, and on the 4th November, 1797, he was further cheered by the unexpected arrival of the Rev. J. D. Jaenické, his beloved helper. Although greatly weakened and sometimes suffering so much that he cried once: “If it be the will of the Lord to take me to Himself, His will be done. May His name be praised!” He never showed any impatience, and his mind was at peace. He was able to sit up still, and asked that the Sunday School children should gather in his parlour and sing their hymns to him, and then he gave them a little talk on some Bible subject, and commended their young hearts and lives to God in a touching prayer. This was the usual practice every evening, and when the native children had gone home he called the English boys and girls to come near to him to read their chapter, and then join in singing their favourite Watts’ hymns. One of which he was very fond, and called his beloved hymn, began with the words:
Far from my thoughts, vain world, begone,