On Monday he seemed somewhat better, but on Tuesday night he was much
worse. Hours of pain and sleeplessness were passed, yet he rose on
Wednesday and went out several times to the garden. In the evening he
became very ill and had a fainting fit, but managed after awhile to get
upstairs, and, after remaining on the bedside for some time, propped up
with pillows, he undressed, with little assistance and much
deliberation, winding up his watch, with a cold, trembling hand,--"for
the last time," he said.

The doctor arrived shortly afterwards, who found that he had broken a
blood-vessel. The night was passed partly in peaceful sleep, and partly
in converse with his children who were then present. His daughter says,
"He was just full of his Saviour's love and mercy all through his life;
he repeated many hymns and passages of Scripture."

On Thursday morning he was visited by Mr. Morley and two other friends,
with whom he conversed. He also had his Testament, but finding he could
not read it, his daughters read to him. He repeated many hymns, among
them the Scotch version of the hundred and third Psalm, but stopped and
said, "There is nothing like the original," which was then read from the
Bible. His mother's favourite hymn, "Hail, sovereign Light," was also by
his special desire read to him.

Another sleep--a wandering, perhaps unconscious, look at his children, a
struggle, and then a quietness? and the pilgrimage was over, the spirit
had fled to be present with the Lord whom he had loved so well and
served so faithfully. "His end was peace."

He died on the 10th of August, 1883, in his eighty-eighth year.