November, 1820.

Under all his sufferings (says his early friend, Mr. Sargent), he was
never heard to express a querulous word; and if I had not seen it, I
could not have thought it possible for so much constant patience and
resignation to have been exhibited under so many years of grievous pain.
Of his severe disease he spoke with great calmness; and when there
seemed to be some doubt among his medical friends, as to the existence
of a stone in the bladder, he said to me in a gentle tone, "I can settle
the controversy between them; I am sure there is, for I distinctly feel
it." A very large stone was found, after his decease. An accidental fall
from the slipping of his foot, brought on his last illness and death.
When I came to him, the day before he died, he mentioned this
circumstance, and expressed a strong hope that God was, in mercy, about
to put a period to his sufferings. He had received the Sacrament about a
fortnight before, from the Rev. Mr. Hardy, a minister in the
neighbourhood, towards whom he always expressed a most friendly regard.

To this satisfactory account of Hayley's latter days, let me be allowed
to add, that which is given by the son of his friend, the Rev. John
Sargent. More perfect patience than Hayley manifested under his
excruciating tortures, it never was my lot to witness. His was not only
submission, but cheerfulness. So far could he abstract himself from his
intense sufferings, as to be solicitous, in a way that affected me
tenderly, respecting my comfort and accommodation as his guest; a
circumstance that might appear trivial to many, but which, to my mind,
was illustrative of that disinterestedness and affection which were so
habitual to him in life, as not to desert him in death. That his
patience emanated from principles far superior to those of manly and
philosophical fortitude, I feel a comfortable and confirmed persuasion,