“I entreat God to bless them,” he says, “with wisdom, resolution and integrity, to settle the business to the welfare of this poor country. But alas! We ourselves are so divided--one pulls one way, the other quite a different one. When one considers all, high and low, rich and poor, rulers and those that are ruled, one is struck with grief and a variety of passions. What blindness, insensibility, and obstinacy, greediness, and rapaciousness. A thousand times I think with myself: ‘Good God, must all these people _die_--must they all give a strict account of their lives--must they all appear before the tribunal of Jesus, the mediator and judge? How little do they mind their end, and the consequences of their lives?’” There is no doubt that at this time Schwartz was feeling the effect of his long life of incessant work, and in his letters to his friends he asks their prayers that more strength may be given him. He tells that while at present in no position of pain, his weakness is great and that speaking or walking so fatigue him that he can hardly stand. He has spent so many years in the work, under a trying climate, without any furlough, that it is no wonder that he begins to fail under the burden of a labour he has borne so long. Not that he complained; Schwartz was one of those men who consider themselves last and scorn to make much of either their physical pains or their difficult circumstances. He dismisses the question of his illness with almost an apology for referring to it. “Enough of this, age comes upon me, I have no reason therefore to wonder at weakness. If the mind be sound all is well, the rest we shall quit when we enter into the grave. That will cure all our bodily indispositions.... Our time is short. Within some days I have sojourned in this country thirty-four years. The end of my journey is, even according to the course of nature, near. May I not flag! May my last days be my best!”