“My dear husband is increasingly ill.  He told the Rev. Gervase Smith, who called in to see him, that fifty years ago, these words were blessed to him, ’By grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God.’  Mr. Bourne visited us in our affliction.  My soul truly rejoiced in the Lord, while His servant spake of the things of God, and prayed with us.  I am much comforted by my husband’s state of mind.  Although this is a painful ordeal, through which I am passing, God is with me, and His grace supports me.—­My husband is no better.  When Mr. Eastwood inquired the state of his mind, he answered,

  ’For ever here my rest shall be. 
    Close to Thy bleeding side;
  This all my hope, and all my plea,
    For me the Saviour died.’”

“He cast upon me an expressive look—­I thought he wanted something, and inquired.  He replied, ’Bless you, bless you.’—­Suffered much from oppression on the chest.  His medical adviser promised to send him something, which would give him relief.  He seemed very desirous of its arrival.  In the meantime, we bowed our knees to present our case before God, and to ask His blessing upon the expected remedy; when in a few minutes the oppression, in a great measure, ceased.  This was the Lord’s doing, and to Him we heartily ascribe the praise.—­The medicine continued the relief.—­The Lord wonderfully supports my feeble frame, and I have increasing power to claim the promises made to His people, and by faith discover in them a greater fulness than ever.  My friend R. informs me she has seen J.H., who had sent to request me to visit her.  She wished to tell me the Lord had blessed her soul.  May she be made fully meet for glory.—­My husband still continues very ill.  Had a distressing night.  The enemy assaulted him.  My faith seems to have no wings.—­Enabled to rise.—­I asked him if Christ was precious?  He replied, ‘Yes.’  He is apparently near death.  Hitherto my mind has been graciously supported though sometimes painfully exercised.  He rallied again, and slept calmly for awhile.  After tea, the difficulty of breathing returned.  The Rev. David Hay came in, and prayed with him; also Mr. Thompson, a little after.  It was evident the hand of death was upon him.  He could scarcely bear us to speak.  Once he said ’Mary’—­perfectly recollected.  Mr. Hill asked him, ’Is Christ precious?’ to which he replied in the affirmative, and shortly after inquired, ‘What o’clock is it?’ The answer was given ‘About ten;’ and at eleven the ‘weary wheels of life stood still,’ and my beloved husband left me to mourn his absence.  I sorrow, but not without hope; and hear a whisper in my heart, ’Thy Maker is thy husband, the Lord of Hosts is His name.’  My mind is comforted; my resolutions are quickened; but my sense of abasement is great, at the little improvement I have made of such lengthened privileges.  ’Enter not into judgment with Thy servant, O Lord.’”