William Bramwell, a man of mighty faith in the power of God to heal, had prayed for a certain person and God had raised them up in answer to his prayers on several occasions, but the last time that he was called upon to pray for this person, he could not, and said they must die, or that in substance. I praise God, that I was ever put in possession of that _faith_, which brought health to my body, when sick, and suffering. When stationed at Utica, I was taken one Sabbath evening while preaching, with the dysentery. I was very sick until Friday. I had quite frequent bloody evacuations, with tenesmus, of a very severe character. My dear companion was very much alarmed in regard to my very dangerous symptoms, and thought she had better go for the doctor. I felt all through me--I want no doctor but Jesus. In that direction I continued to look. My symptoms became more alarming. Anxiety on the part of my family increased. Conviction with me, that Jesus Christ was coming to check disease, and heal my body, seemed to grow more and more like a living reality. Friday morning dawned upon us, and to all appearances, I was rapidly yielding in my physical powers, to the destructive power of the fearful disease that was preying so rapidly upon my body. After much solicitation on the part of my very precious wife, I consented to let her go after the doctor. A moment after she left the house, Jesus came--laid His hand upon me, and made me every whit whole: Bless His holy name! The doctor did not come until Saturday. He left me two very small bottles of pills, and charged me not to go to church on the coming Sabbath. However, I went to church, preached twice at Utica, rode twelve miles and preached, making three sermons; and with such a blessing, it did seem to me that my soul would leave my body if God should let another drop of love on me. Growing out of this, I had an experience where I knew what the statement meant, “_For I am sick of love_.” On another occasion after this, when sick, and much worn down by overwork, I went to the Murray camp-meeting with a view of recuperation. I felt peculiarly led of the spirit to go. On arriving there I was powerfully tempted to leave the ground and return home. As it was about tea time I was invited to take tea with an old friend. After tea we had prayers. The Lord blessed me--I felt better, but did not get the healing power on my body which I so much needed. I was very much helped all through the meeting. The day the meeting closed, Brother Roberts was tying up his tent, Sister Roberts asked me if I had received the help in my body that I needed--I said no; but while in conversation with her, the blessing came with such force that disease and weakness oozed out from the very center of every bone in my body, and instantly I was covered with perspiration; and for months after this, I felt as though I was made up of iron. I could preach, visit, sing, pray and study a good share of the hours out of every twenty-four.