Thy friend, affectionately and very sincerely,

JOHN YEARDLEY.

After his return home, having also visited Saffron Walden, he writes:—­

1 mo. 25.—­Just returned from a visit to Essex.  I lodged a week at my dear friend S.C.’s, and was edified and comforted in her company.  It has been a promised pleasure of some years’ standing.  The morning meeting on First-day, as well as the one on Fourth-day, was a season of spiritual refreshment, for which I was truly thankful.  The Friends testified their unity and comfort:  I called on most of them.

On the Seventh-day, C.M. conveyed me across the country to Saffron Walden. 
On the way we paid a sweet visit to the afflicted family of ——.  At
Walden I was affectionately cared for, and was much interested in the
Friends there, whom I had not seen for eighteen years.

CHAPTER XXI.

LAST JOURNEY AND DEATH, 1858.—­CONCLUDING REMARKS.

We are now arrived at the closing scene of John Yeardley’s labors.  The impression which he had received, during his visit to Turkey in 1853, of the opening for the work of the Gospel in the Eastern countries, had never been obliterated; it had rather grown deeper with time, although his ability to accomplish such an undertaking had proportionately diminished.  This consideration, however, could not satisfy his awakened sympathies, and, according to his apprehension, no other course remained for him but to prepare for a visit to the missionary stations in Asia Minor and the countries beyond, in order to deliver to the inquiring inhabitants amongst whom those stations are planted, the message of Christ’s love to their souls with which he believed himself to be charged.  And when he communicated to his friends the apprehension that this journey was required of him as the last offering of thanksgiving before his day closed, they were satisfied to “lay their hands upon him” for the work, thinking, perhaps, that the veteran soldier could not better end his campaign than with his arms in his hands, actively contending for the faith.  That such might not improbably be the issue of the enterprise, John Yeardley himself believed; but it is doubtful if he correctly estimated the arduous nature of the journey.  It would have been a bold undertaking in the vigor of his days:  at his time of life, and with his declining strength, it was, humanly speaking, impossible that he should accomplish nearly all he had in view.

His Diary unfolds his spiritual exercises and his natural feelings in the prospect before him.