Death of My Husband
103
to do His will.” He accompanied me to the Tabernacle, and opened the
services with singing and prayer. It was the last time he was ever to
stand by my side in the pulpit.
On the following Monday he had a severe chill, and the next day
I, too, was attacked. Together we were taken to the sanitarium for
treatment. On Friday my symptoms became more favorable. The
doctor then informed me that my husband was inclined to sleep, and
that danger was apprehended. I was immediately taken to his room,
and as soon as I looked upon his countenance I knew that he was
dying. I tried to arouse him. He understood all that was said to him,
and responded to all questions that could be answered by Yes or No,
but seemed unable to say more. When I told him I thought he was
dying, he manifested no surprise. I asked if Jesus was precious to him.
He said “Yes, oh, yes.” “Have you no desire to live?” I inquired. He
answered: “No.”
We then knelt by his bedside, and I prayed for him. A peaceful
expression rested upon his countenance. I said to him. “Jesus loves
you. The everlasting arms are beneath you.” He responded: “Yes, yes.”
Brother Smith and other brethren then prayed around his bedside,
and retired to spend much of the night in prayer. My husband said he
felt no pain; but he was evidently failing fast. Dr. Kellogg and his
helpers did all that was in their power to hold him back from death.
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He slowly revived, but continued very weak.
The next morning he seemed slightly to revive, but about noon he
had a chill, which left him unconscious. At 5 p. m., Sabbath, August 6,
1881, he quietly breathed his life away, without a struggle or a groan.
The shock of my husband’s death—so sudden, so unexpected—
fell upon me with crushing weight. In my feeble condition I had
summoned strength to remain at his bedside to the last, but when I
saw his eyes closed in death, exhausted nature gave way, and I was
completely prostrated. For some time I seemed balancing between life
and death. The vital flame burned so low that a breath might extinguish
it. At night my pulse would grow feeble, and my breathing fainter and
fainter till it seemed about to cease. Only by the blessing of God and
the unremitting care and watchfulness of physician and attendants was
my life preserved.
Though I had not risen from my sickbed after my husband’s death,
I was borne to the Tabernacle on the following Sabbath to attend his