“His text was, ‘O Lord, Thou preservest man and beast. How excellent is Thy lovingkindness, O God! therefore the children of men put their trust under the shadow of Thy wings.’ After sermon, he went up the aisle to the communion-table, with these words, ‘I am going to throw myself under the wings of the cherubim, before the mercy-seat.’ The congregation was large, and the service lasted till nearly two o’clock. Sometimes he could scarcely stand, and was often obliged to stop for want of power to speak. The people were deeply affected. Weeping was on every side. Notwithstanding his extreme weakness, he gave out several verses of hymns, and uttered various lively sentences of exhortation.
“As soon as the service was over, we hurried him away to bed, where he immediately fainted. He then dropped into a sleep for some time; and, when he awoke, he cried out, with a pleasant smile, ‘Now, my dear, thou seest I am no worse for doing the Lord’s work. He never fails me when I trust in Him.’ He dozed most of the evening, now and then awaking full of the praises of God. At night, his fever returned, and his strength decreased amazingly.
“On Monday and Tuesday, he lay on a couch in the study, was at times very restless, but often slept. When awake, he was delighted in hearing me read hymns, and tracts on faith and love. His words were animating, and his patience beyond expression. I asked, ‘Hast thou any conviction that the Lord is about to take thee?’ He answered, ‘No, not in particular; only I always see death so near, that we both seem to stand on the verge of eternity.’ Sometimes he would say, ‘O Polly! shall I ever see the day when thou must be carried out to be buried? I shrink at giving my dear Polly to the worms.’ Awaking on one occasion, he said, ‘It was Israel’s fault that they asked for signs. We will not do so; but, abandoning our whole selves into the hands of God, we will there lie patiently, assured that He will do all things well.’
“On Wednesday, August 10, he told me, he had received such a manifestation of the full meaning of the words, ‘God is love,’ as he could not tell. ‘It fills me,’ he said, ‘it fills me every moment. O Polly! my dear Polly! God is love! Shout! Shout aloud! Oh! it so fills me, that I want a gust of praise to go to the ends of the earth. But it seems as if I could not speak much longer. Let us fix upon a sign between ourselves’ (tapping me twice with his finger). ‘By this I mean God is love, and we will draw each other into God. Observe! by this we will draw each other into God.’ Sally coming in, he cried, ‘O Sally! God is love! Shout, both of you! I want to hear you shout His praise!’ All this time, his medical attendant hoped he was in no danger. He knew his disease to be the fever; but, as he had no bad headache, slept much without the least delirium, and had an almost regular pulse, the symptoms were thought to be favourable.
“On Thursday, August 11, his speech began to fail; but to his friendly doctor he would not be silent while he had any power to speak, often saying, ‘O Sir, you take much thought for my body; give me leave to take thought for your soul.’ When I could scarcely understand anything he said, I spoke the words, ‘God is love!’ Instantly he caught them, and broke out in a rapture, ‘God is love, love, love! O for the gust of praise I want to sound!’ Here his voice again failed. If I named his sufferings, he would smile, and make the sign.
“On Friday, August 12, finding his body covered with spots, I so far understood them as to feel a sword pierce through my soul. As I knelt by his bed, with my hand in his, intreating the Lord to be with us in this tremendous hour, he strove to say many things, but could not. At length, pressing my hand, and often repeating the sign, he breathed out, ‘Head of the Church, be head to my wife!’ Sally said to him, ‘My dear master, do you know me?’ He replied, ‘Sally, God will put His right hand under you.’ She added, ‘O my dear master, should you be taken away, what a disconsolate creature will my poor mistress be!’ He answered, ‘God will be her all in all.’ He had always delighted in the lines—
“‘Jesu’s blood, through earth and skies,
Mercy, free, boundless mercy cries.’
“When I repeated them to him, he cried, ‘Boundless, boundless!’ and added, though with great difficulty—
“‘Mercy’s full power I soon shall prove,