Although in reality not far from her end, his wife’s state had not as yet excited immediate alarm.  On the 23rd of the Ninth Month J.Y. writes:—­

My precious E.Y. is yet so weak that there is a probability of its being an obstacle in the way of our removal; but there is this consolation,—­if the work be of the Lord he will not frustrate his own design; if it be not his doing we must submit to have the whole overturned.

In a few days he became aware of her critical state.

9 mo. 29.—­The indisposition of my dear wife has taken such an alarming turn that I yesterday began to have serious apprehensions as to the issue.  I have watched with her night and day, and my prayers have been unceasing for her restoration, I trust not without a due reverence to the divine will.  But I did not feel as though nature could give her up until yesterday, when as I stood retired by the bed-side of my dear lamb, endeavoring to feel after resignation, I gave her up as fully as human nature, through divine aid, was capable of.  Then it sprang in my heart, Where is the man that can offer up an Isaac?  He shall go for me, and I will send him.  There seems a spark of hope that even now, when the knife is lifted up, the voice may yet be heard,—­“Lay not thy hand upon the lad, for now I know that thou fearest me.”

My precious dear has been to me in my late exercise a never-failing instrument of strength, comfort, and encouragement:  in general her faith has been much stronger than my own.  Should it please Heaven to restore her, O that there may be an increased desire that it may be for no other cause, but that her heart, her hands and her feet, may unite with mine in sounding forth our Redeemer’s praise, if required, even to the ends of the earth.

The following entries record the last hours of the dying Christian wife, and the feelings of her bereaved husband:—­

10 mo. 25.—­Last night we expected my dear lamb would have sunk away.  How the awful event is to terminate is known only to Him on whose bosom I trust she has always rested; for in no other place could she be preserved in the state of peace which she appears to possess.

29_th_.—­A most awful morning; my dear lamb is no more!  She sweetly fell asleep in the bosom of her Saviour, at one o’clock this morning.  The closing scene was perfect ease and peace.  From the first of her illness she seemed aware how it would terminate, and was perfectly resigned.  During our being at Bentham she has often said it was a place provided by Providence to afford her that religious retirement she had long desired, and which she took the most scrupulous care to improve.  When in health she would tell me of late that perhaps she might be taken away in order to set me more fully at liberty to do the Lord’s work.

11 mo. 18.—­This day two weeks was the solemn ceremony of committing to the silent dust the remains of my very precious and dearly beloved Elizabeth.  I had dreaded the day very much; but through prayer, mixed with a degree of faith, which was mercifully granted, I was wonderfully supported.  In the meeting I felt the divine influence so near, and so to prevail over my spirit, that I was constrained publicly to thank the Father of mercies for his goodness.