Milford, Mass., Sabbath, July 31, 1825. In the morning found my father sick, in great pain; hoped that he would be relieved by taking an anodyne.  Evening, his pain increased.

Monday,  2 o'clock, sent for Dr. Peck; cathartics administered, but to no purpose.  Stopage in his bowels.  P.M. injections given but no relief.  Took care of him myself Monday night.

Tuesday morning, Aug. 2, a surgical operation gave him relief; he remained comfortable till 5 o'clock p.m.; some discharge from his bowels that produced violent spasms; P. Parkhurst and Mr. and Mrs. Ware present.  Mr. Ware went for the physician; his distress was excruciating.  He said he could not live but a short time.  He prayed fervently for himself, for his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and for the church.  His mind was strong and clear.  He frequently prayed that the will of God might be done.

Wednesday morning, Aug. 3, the same means which had given relief were tried twice, but owing to the violent spasms they were ineffectual and impracticable -- only increased his distress.  No ground to hope for his recovery.  Made his will.  His acute pains a little mitigated by taking opium.  Dea. Rockwood called; he conversed freely on the prospect of death, expressed with deep humility his own unworthiness and his strong confidence in Christ for salvation, said he wanted no other way of salvation; his faith in the Redeemer appeared unwavering.  He asked the deacon to pray that the will of God might be done either by his life or death.  Dea. N. Chapin called.

Thursday, Aug. 4, his strength rapidly declined; he frequently broke out in ejaculations of prayer and praise to God for His mercies.  His turns of pain were less frequent and not so strong.  In the afternoon Mr. Long came to see him.  He had been asleep for some time; when he awoke he did not appear so ready to converse as he had done, and we discovered for the first time that the powers of his mind were sinking with his bodily strength; he was, however, rational and requested Mr. Long to preach his funeral sermon from Ezek. xxxvii, 3: "Can these bones live?" said his attention was called by a discourse from these words when he was eight years old; the impression he never forgot.

Friday he laid in a lethergic state.  When he awoke he knew those around him, would call their names, but his mind was wandering.  He did not seem to realize any pain or sense of his situation.

Saturday morning, Aug. 6, he had failed very fast; at 8 o'clock he appeared to be apparently dying; neighbors were called in but he revived.  When he was told that we thought he would not live long, he said: "If it is so, I am not sensible of it; but if it is, it is all well."  He then observed that prayer in the family had not been attended this morning, and called for Joseph (b) to pray.  Joseph was absent.  In broken words he said:  "It is a duty we have always practised; we have been trained up in it."  He seemed lost as to words to express his mind, but it was evident that he wished to have family worship maintained.  Brother Ithiel Parkhurst coming in he requested him to pray.  He then sank into a deep sleep.  In the evening he appeared to be wakeful, and requested to have prayers attended; thinking his mind might be wandering, his request was not attended to; after some minutes he looked around the room, and seeing his son-in- I. Parkhurst, he asked him to pray.  Being told that we tho't he was too weak to have prayers in the room, he said: "I am not."  After waiting some time, finding that brother P. did not pray, he called for Joseph and asked him to pray.  He appeared to be awake and attentive to the prayer, then quietly slumbered.  Capt. Nelson and I watched.  When we awoke him he had his reason.  Once he said: "Roxa take rest."  At another time he said:  "My dear child, you will be worn out."  He had frequent spasms, and every turn sank his strength, both of body and mind.

Sabbath morning.  He laid in a lethergic state; breathed very hard and long.  At 8 o'clock he awoke.  He was told that it was the Sabbath-day, and was asked if it was his desire that his brethren should be requested to pray for him; he said: "Yes."  He then answered many questions which were put to him which showed that he had his reason.  He then made a short and appropriate prayer -- he prayed for himself, his family, his neighbors, and for the church; dedicated himself and all his concerns to God; and again sank into a lethergic state.  He revived again at 3 o'clock; he was calm and sensible.  Mother asked him:  "Do you know me?"  "Yes," he said with a smile, "and we shall not be separated long; you will soon follow me." (c)  He then looked on me with a sweet and heavenly smile and pressed my hand and gently bowed his head without speaking -- his looks bespoke more than words can express.  Again his distress returned.  Thus he continued to languish and revive until Thursday morning 11th of August, when his weary soul left its tenement of clay, and we have reason to believe, soared to the regions of unclouded day, to be forever with Him, who by faith he called "My Lord and my God."

My dear parents had lived together almost 58 years; had been happily united, and their tender regard for each other did not suffer any diminution in their advanced age.  The winter of 1824-5 was the last they enjoyed together; they seemed to have a presentiment that it would be the last.  How often was I melted into tears and my heart filled with the tenderest emotions, while I beheld their affectionate looks, and heard their tender expressions to each other.  Oft did I hear them recount the way in which the Lord had led them; how often did they talk of their trials and their blessings; of the foundation of their hopes for salvation in Jesus Christ; of their faith in God; of their desire for the salvation of sinners and the spread of the gospel;  of their wish to be active and faithful unto death; of their short separation, their views of death, and their happy re-union in heaven.  Daily did they kneel in humble prostration before the throne of grace to make confessions of sin, to implore pardon through the merits of a crucified Savior, to acknowledge the mercies of God and pray for a blessing on their children and the church, and for unconditional submission to the will of God in all things.  By their daily conversation it was evident that they felt that the time of their departure was at hand, and that by the grace of God they were in a measure prepared for the expected separation.  But when my father drew his last breath, it was a heart-felt stroke to my mother -- nature trembled and shrank, but grace enabled her to say "Thy will be done."  She mourned, but did murmur.  She manifested keen feelings, yet humble and sincere resignation to the will of God; and it was evident that she found the grace of God sufficient.  She bade farewell to the husband of her youth -- the companion and solace of her age, with that calmness and serenity of mind which confidence in God and the Holy Spirit could alone inspire.  It now seemed that every tie which held her to the earth was broken, and that she had no other desire to live but to suffer or do the will of God.  Her strength gradually decayed.

The first of October, 1825, she was carried to Bro. Parkhurst's.  She enjoyed her mind very well with christian friends.  It was her last visit.  The last of October she went to a lecture; she said she wanted to go and bid the sanctuary farewell.  Her powers of recollection were too strong for her feeble nature.  She viewed all those with whom she used to unite in worship -- saw their vacated seats, and her mind followed them to the invisible world, where she soon expected to meet them.  Such was her thirst after God and holiness, that nothing short of His glorious manifestations could satisfy her longing soul.  As we returned she seemed to sigh a sort of farewell to every earthly object.  It was the last time she ever went abroad.

In November and December her strength failed -- could walk with difficulty.  By the second week in January, 1826, she was unable to raise herself from her chair, and could not walk without help.  From that time to the 8th of July there was a slow and gradual decay of strength, during which time she retained her reason.  As she was unable to work, she spent most of her time in reading and devotion.  The bible was her constant companion; she read it with great delight.  She always conducted family worship when there was no one else present to whom it more properly belonged; and oh! how many fervent prayers she offered for her children, especially for those who gave no evidence of their union to Christ.

On the 8th of July, just before sunset, she raised herself from her seat when no one was present, and was unable to stand; she fell to the floor and dislocated her hip.  On Sunday she was taken from the bed, her hip examined, and it was thought impracticable to set the bone.

Tuesday, 10th of July, Dr. Peck thought she could live but a few days.  She had no appetite for food, took but very little liquid, was in great pains; I was obliged to give her large doses of opium.  When she had lain 3 weeks we attempted to move her, but found she could not bear it; it is impossible to describe her sufferings.  She lived 6 weeks and 4 days without being moved or having any evacuation from her bowels, and yet her bowels did not swell.  Her mind was generally tranquil.  Sometimes, when she had taken large quantities of opium, her mind was confused, but her recollection was remarkably strong.  She was patient under her sufferings; she often groaned but did not complain.  She wished to be wholly resigned to the will of God, and often expressed a wish to glorify Him in her pains.  She faithfully exhorted her christian friends to be active in the service of God, to be faithful to the souls of their families, and all others, and to be strongly united in the bonds of christian love.  She warned those who had no hope of their danger.  She told them of the joys of heaven -- the happiness of trusting in the Savior, and of their awful doom if they rejected so great salvation.  She was tender, affectionate and grateful to all who watched with her -- expressed great thankfulness for every favor that was confered on her.  She often wished to be with the Lord, but was willing to wait his time.  A few days before her death I asked her:  "Is death a king of terrors to you?"   She said: "I have often thought that death was a dark and shady valley, but now it has no terrors to me.  It is a solemn thought to appear before a Holy God; but I have such views of my blessed Savior, and His all-sufficiency to pardon sin, that death has no sting to me."  In the evening she seemed much engaged in prayer; devoted all her descendants to God, and enjoyed great peace of mind.

Saturday morning before her death, she fixed her eyes very earnestly on me for some length of time.  I then said:  "What do you want, mother?"  She said:  "I want to look at you, my dear child, for these eyes will see you but little longer."

On the Sabbath she was apparently sinking into death; her eyes partly closed; could say but little.  She knew all her children and friends.  Mr. Long [her minister] called afternoon.  She requested him to pray that she might have patience to suffer the will of God.  When prayer was offered she raised her hands and waved them at the close of those petitions most adapted to her feelings.  To Dea. Sanders and wife she said: "I cannot talk now; you are dear friends; we shall have a happy meeting in heaven."

Monday morning Mr. Rockwood called.  She said to him: "Do you think it would be wrong for you to pray that God would take me to Himself?"  He replied:  "Perhaps your work is not yet done.  You may offer some prayer that God designs to answer after you are gone.  You may give some warning which is to take effect after you are laid in the dust."  She raised her hands and said:  "If God's will can be promoted by my sufferings, His will be done.  Glory be to His name.

She continued in great distress till Wednesday night.  Her end was apparently near.  No pen or tongue can describe her agony in this last conflict.  Her throat was so filled that we could not understand what she said.

A few hours before she expired she said: "Pray."  I said to her:  "Do you wish to have us unite once more in praying for you?"  "Pray," she said.  Bro. P. replied:  "Your agony is so great that it may not be a duty.  "Do pray," said she.  A short prayer was offered by Bro. P.  She laid quiet raised her hands and often waved them.  After a while she said:  "Glory! Glory!! GLORY!!!"  These were her last words.  She expired at half-past 4 o'clock, Thursday morning, August 24, 1826.

Thus closed the lives of my dear parents.  The Lord hath done all things well.  Blessed be his name.  Eternity will unfold these interesting scenes with all their conseqences.  O may their descendants follow their steps so far as they followed Jesus; and my covenant blessings descend from generation to generation.

b (Joseph) Afterward the Rev. Joseph Rawson Johnson.  back

c (follow me) A grandson who was residing in the family at the time remembered a question and answer which his Aunt Roxa did not write.  Grandma asked grandpa:  "Do you see any of the glories of Heaven?"  To which he replied: "Yes."  back