couch, where he
remained under a warm covering until morning. In the morning he awoke
with a severe cold, accompanied by some degree of fever; but as it did
not seem very serious, and our three children were all suffering from a
similar cause, we failed to give it any especial attention. From that
time he was never well, though in writing to you before, I think I
dated the commencement of his illness, from the month of November, when
he laid aside his studies. I know that he regarded this attack as
trifling, and yet one evening he spent a long time in advising me with
regard to my future course, if I should be deprived of his guidance;
saying that it is always wise to be prepared for exigences of this
nature. After the month of November, he failed gradually, occasionally
rallying in such a manner as to deceive us all, but at each relapse
sinking lower than at the previous one, though still full of hope and
courage, and yielding ground only, inch by inch, as compelled by the
triumphant progress of disease. During some hours of every day he
suffered intense pain; but his naturally buoyant spirits and
uncomplaining disposition led him to speak so lightly of it, that I used
sometimes to fear the doctor, though a very skilful man, would be
fatally deceived.

As his health declined, his mental exercises at first seemed deepened;
and he gave still larger portions of his time to prayer, conversing with
the utmost freedom on his daily progress, and the extent of his
self-conquest. Just before our trip to Mergui, which took place in
January, he looked up from his pillow one day with sudden animation, and
said to me earnestly, "I have gained the victory at last. I love every
one of Christ's redeemed, as I believe he would have me love them--in
the same manner, though not probably to the same degree as we shall love
one another in heaven; and gladly would I prefer the meanest of his
creatures, who bears his name, before myself." This he said in allusion
to the text, "In honor preferring one another," on which he had
frequently dwelt with great emphasis. After farther similar conversation
he concluded, "And now here I lie at peace with all the world, and what
is better still, at peace with my own conscience. I know that I am a
miserable sinner in the sight of God, with no hope but in the blessed
Saviour's merits; but I cannot think of any particular fault, any
peculiarly besetting sin, which it is now my duty to correct. Can you
t