9. Above two years ago, the disorder which occasioned her death began to be violent. Yet she did not abate her diligence, to support herself and family, till July 1769. Her pains then so increased, that she had no ease night or day, only when she slept, which was seldom more than an hour or two. But notwithstanding this, she could not be prevailed upon to keep her room before Christmas. From that time she was in exquisite pain, as tho’ her bowels were tearing asunder. She often said, wearisome nights and days are appointed for me. Yet in the sharpest pain, she never charged God foolishly, or once said, he dealt hardly with her.
10. During this long confinement, she felt a keen conviction of her past unfaithfulness, together with a piercing sense of inbred sin. And on both these accounts, she was often crying out in deep distress, God be merciful to me a sinner. She steddily believed, it was the privilege of God’s people, always to feel the clear witness of his spirit. Accordingly she was always, either rejoicing in the Lord, or deeply distressed for want of it. Even in the severest pain, she was not satisfied with patience, unless she had joy in the Lord.
11. She often would say, “The devil tells me, the peace I feel is only stupidity: that I have been an hypocrite all my life, and never was converted. But I can with confidence answer, this is false. I never desired to deceive either myself or others. I know the Lord did awaken my soul, and convert me to himself. And I cannot accuse myself of lukewarmness in my duty since. I have seldom wilfully missed my class, or band, or a sermon. Yet the manner in which I often performed those duties, causes my soul to tremble. My body was present: but often, too often my mind was engaged in my business. Herein I must plead guilty before God, and he might justly have cast me out of his presence.”
12. All this time the hand of the Lord was underneath her, and did not suffer her to sink in the deep waters. Yet she often complained, “I cannot rejoice in pain,” whereas St. Paul says, Rejoice in tribulation: and that happy soul, Nancy Rogers said, “Every pain is a spring to my soul, to lift me up to heaven.” I told her, “When you, like Nancy, are near your end, you may triumph over pain also. But should it be otherwise, your eternal state does not depend on that.” She cried out, “Nay, but what the scriptures declare, and what others have experienced, is for me.” She did not fear being cast into hell: yet her distress, at times, was exceeding great. She was vehemently athirst for full salvation, and often broke out into deep lamentation. “I am unlike the Lord! When shall I awake up after his full likeness!” Sometimes she seemed just ready to lay hold on the hope set before her. But she was checked by a sense of her unprofitableness in the ways of God: and would often break out, “True Lord, true! I am unprofitable indeed.”
13. At some times she was afraid, lest she should live to expend all she had, and leave me in distress. But about a month before her death, these fears vanished away, and she was quite resigned to the will of God, leaving it wholly to him to do what seemed him good, with her and all that she had. From this time she had no other care than that which related to her soul. She was now released from her severe pains, and her soul felt a solemn peace; tho’ she was still frequently tempted to fear, lest she should deceive herself.
14. Near three weeks after, I was reading in the fifteenth volume of the Christian Library, that section in Isaac Ambrose’s looking unto Jesus, “Desiring Jesus with respect to his death.” The Lord now turned his hand upon her, and caused her to feel his power. Her body seemed to be forgotten; while her spirit rejoiced in God her Saviour, crying out, “O the goodness of God, which directed that passage to be read this night!” Then she began to sing
“Thou shepherd of Israel and mine,
The joy and desire of my heart!
For closer communion I pine;
I long to reside where thou art.