Life sketches of ellen g. white

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." p. 251, Para. 1, [LS15].
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. He slowly
revived, but continued very weak. p. 251, Para. 2, [LS15].
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. p. 252, Para. 1, [LS15].
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. p. 252,
Para. 2, [LS15].
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 funeral. At the close of the sermon I
felt it a duty to testify to the value of the Christian's
hope in the hour of sorrow and bereavement. As I arose,
strength was given me, and I spoke about ten minutes,
exalting the mercy and love of God in the presence of that
crowded assembly. At the close of the services I followed
my husband to Oak Hill Cemetery, where he was laid to rest