“‘I was quickly invited into the “east room,” where “Father Miller” greeted me, though he could not see so as to know me; but, when told, recollected distinctly. He was much changed, and yet so changed as to leave all the good outlines of former acquaintance behind. His sufferings through the summer and fall had been very great. He was much swollen by dropsy. His strength and sight were much diminished. His venerable white locks were few and thin, and his flesh was like that of a child. But his voice was full, his memory good, his intellect strikingly strong and clear, and his patience and resignation were remarkable. He asked of my welfare, and of the friends; and said he was never so strong in his mind that we were right as now. He was sure it could not be long before the coming of the Lord. He wished him to come soon; but, if not, to be taken himself to the Lord.’ “He was drawn to the table in his chair, and ate supper with the family, probably for the last time. Elder R. left the next morning between four and five o’clock; but Mr. Miller was awake, and arose to take an affectionate leave of him. “For several months he had been confined mostly to his room. During a part of the time he had been confined to his bed, lounge, or easy chair; and he suffered excruciating pain, which he endured with Christian patience. During his greatest sufferings, he solaced himself by quotations of numerous passages of Scripture, and favorite hymns of Watts and others, expressive of the hope and joy of the redeemed. “He had watched all the occurrences in Europe with great interest; but, giving up the idea of seeing the Saviour before his death, he had arranged all his business, and waited for the summons when he might ‘depart and be with Christ.’[89] “On the 13th of December he had one of the most severe attacks of pain which he was called to endure. It was then thought he would not survive till the next morning, and Elder Himes was immediately telegraphed for, at the request of Mr. M. Mr. Himes wrote:— “‘On my arrival, early in the morning of the 17th, he had obtained some relief, and was quite comfortable. On entering his room, he immediately recognized my voice, and, on approaching his bed-side, he was able to distinguish my features, though his eyes were dim. “‘Then you do know me, Father Miller, do you?’ “‘Oh! yes; I understand,—I know what is passing.’