as the lady was possessed of
an amiable disposition, and she ministered to his needs and together
they enjoyed good fellowship, to his death, after which event, she
returned to Liverpool, where she resided till she died.

The father of William Black walked through all the years of a long
life in the ways of peace, and the son rejoiced that he had been
honored in leading him to Christ. For the greater part of his life he
lived on his farm at Dorchester, New Brunswick, dying there in 1820,
at the age of ninety-three years. He was held in much esteem in the
community being appointed in 1779, Judge of the Common Pleas, and in
his old age he retained so much of his vigor, that when he was
eighty-eight years old, he rode on horseback a distance of thirty
miles to visit some members of his family residing at Amherst.

"The world may not like our Methodists, but the world cannot deny that
they die well," wrote John Wesley, and this sentence has been
transformed into the well-known maxim, "Our people die well." William
Black knew the art of dying well, as he always stood on the threshold
of eternity, and there was no need in his closing days to make special
preparation, for with heroic gladness he had fronted the foe, all
through the strenuous years, and was ever ready to cross the bar. In
the autumn of 1834, the cholera was prevalent in Halifax, and he was
deeply concerned for the people, though he was suffering from dropsy,
and his end was near. The Rev. Richard Knight who was stationed in
Halifax, and had Matthew Richey as his colleague, was with him in his
last hours, and he gives an account of the closing scene. "'I trust
sir,' said I, 'You now feel that Saviour to be precious whom you have
so long held forth to others.' He said, 'All is well. All is peace, no
fear, no doubt, let Him do as He will, He knows what is best.' I
referred to his long and useful life. He said very impressively,
'Leave all that, say no more. All is well.' We joined in prayer, and
his spirit was evidently very much engaged in the solemn exercise. On
leaving the room I said, 'You will soon be in the glory of which you
have so often spoken in the course of your long ministry.' 'I shall
soon be there,' he said, 'where Christ is gone before me.' After which
he sank very fast, and spoke little, and that with considerable
difficulty. His last words were, 'Give my farewell blessing to your
family, and to the society,' and 'God bless you. All is well.'"