Saw Richard Gullett, aged seventy-two. This was an aggravated case: he was much distressed with cramp, and had no interval of rest. I merely assisted the medical attendant, Mr. Osmond, in administering such things as he ordered. From thence I went to Hurrell’s: his wife was worse, suffering much from continual sickness and the cramp, and in a profuse perspiration, approaching to the cold damp of the second stage of cholera,—the husband, also, harassed by sickness, &c. complained of violent pain at the pit of the stomach, and was becoming very restless. When I contemplated this couple,—both ill in bed, and, in the prime of life, dreading a rapid dissolution, afflicted with the agonizing thought that no friend dared to approach their dwelling to afford them consolation, and appalled at the hasty manner in which the poor victims of the disease are necessarily consigned to the grave,—a feeling of the deepest commiseration for the wretched sufferers weighed heavily on my spirits. And when I observed the wistful glance directed towards me, as if my countenance could be the index of their fate, the responsibility of my situation pressed with redoubled force upon my mind; and though “in the midst of life I was in death,” having cast myself upon the mercy of God for “help in the time of need,” I became strengthened in my resolution, that, in dependence upon Divine aid, I would devote myself, to the utmost of my power, to the service of my poor dying parishioners. I remained at Hurrell’s, as they required constant attendance, and they had no nurse at that time. Towards the evening, both were better. They had applied for medical advice in the earliest period of their attack. In their habits they are remarkably cleanly. Besides this, the satisfactory state of their minds upon religious subjects dispelled much of their alarm, particularly after they had received the Holy Communion. Andrews’s little girl, much better. Richard Gullett, in a dying state. _August_ 8. Hurrell and his wife both convalescent, though slightly salivated. Six new cases, with alarming symptoms. Many people applied for “something to stop the sickness,” &c. The disease appeared to have spread all over the village. Richard Gullett, buried. I visited Peggy Andrews’s daughter, and several cholera patients, all anxious for spiritual as well as medical assistance. Ann Parsons and her child very ill. Mary Pepperall, much better. Jane Hurrell, convalescent. Here, it may not be out of place to mention, that, during the last month, I had been preparing candidates for confirmation.