“The writing of the few lines before the present, was the work of several days, attended with more difficulty and pain than any one is able to conceive, who does not feel what I have suffered. But to complain is disagreeable to me. The constant prayer of my heart, most tenderly united with yours, is for the welfare and prosperity of the Church of God, and especially that part of it which is the immediate object of our care. May our faithful and best Friend, who purchased it with His blood, and is the supreme Head thereof, so defend His people amidst all opposition, and support His servants who labour in the word and doctrine, and have the general charge over His house, that the several members of it may increase in faith, hope, and love, to their comfort and joy.
“With respect to myself, if I may judge from what I feel, I can think no otherwise than that I am very near the end of my course. Therefore, all my prayers are centred in this, that my gracious Lord may wash me, a sinner, in His blood, and abide always near me, especially in my last extremity.”
The last time that he attended the public celebration of the Lord’s Supper, was only five days before his death. At the conclusion of it, weak and wasted as he was, he commenced singing a verse of praise and thanksgiving, and the impression produced was such, that the whole congregation began to weep.
From the nature of his disease, it was seldom he could sleep; but he was always patient and confiding. “All He does is well done,” said he; “let us only look to Him, and the end will be blessed.” He was deeply thankful for the kind offices of his friends, and especially for those of his loving wife, who nursed him, in every stage of his illness, with the greatest tenderness. Just before the close of all his sufferings, he was heard to pray: “Dear Saviour! remember my poor name, and come, come soon!” His prayer was answered. Shortly after these words were uttered, he peacefully expired, on September 13, 1771, leaving behind him, besides his widow, two children, a son and a daughter, to lament their loss.[139]
Gambold, like Wesley, wrote an epitaph on himself; and, as it is a fair specimen of the better class of his poetical productions, it is here subjoined:—
“Ask not, who ended here his span?
His name, reproach, and praise, was—Man.
Did no great deeds adorn his course
No deed of his, but show’d him worse!
One thing was great, which God supplied,