Blest with an excellent constitution, well nursed by nature's three great physicians, _temperance_, _exercise_, and _cheerfulness_, he was hardly ever sick until after his seventy-sixth year. The gout and gravel then attacked him with great severity. He bore their excruciating tortures as became one who habitually felt that he was as he said, in the hands of an infinitely wise and benevolent being, who did all things right. His physician, the celebrated Dr. Jones, published the following account of his last illness. "The stone, had for the last twelve months confined him chiefly to his bed; and during the extreme painful paroxysms, he was obliged to take large doses of laudanum to mitigate his tortures--still in the intervals of pain, he not only amused himself with reading and conversing with his family, and his friends who visited him, but was often employed in doing business of a public as well as private nature, with various persons who waited on him for that purpose, and in every instance displayed, not only that readiness of doing good, which was the distinguishing characteristic of his life, but the fullest possession of his uncommon mental abilities; and not unfrequently indulged himself in those flashes of wit and entertaining anecdotes, which were the delight of all who heard him. "About sixteen days before his death, he was seized with a pain in his left breast, which increased till it became extremely acute, attended with a cough and laborious breathing. During this state, when the severity of his pains some times drew forth a groan, he would observe, that, _he was afraid he did not bear them as he ought--acknowledged his grateful sense of the many blessings he had received from the Supreme Being, who had raised him from small and low beginnings to such high rank and consideration among men--and made no doubt but his present afflictions were kindly intended to wean him from a world, in which he was no longer fit to act the part assigned him_. In this frame of body and mind he continued till five days before his death, when an imposthumation in his lungs, suddenly burst, and discharged a great quantity of matter, which he continued to throw up while he had strength, but, as that failed, the organs of respiration became gradually oppressed--a calm lethargic state succeeded--and, on the 7th of April, 1790, about eleven o'clock at night he quietly expired, closing a long and useful life of _eighty-four years and three months_." Come holy calm of the soul! Expressive silence come! and meditating the mighty talents of the dead, and their constant application to the _glory of the giver_, let us ascend with him on the wings of that blessed promise, "_Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord! even so saith the Spirit, for they rest from their labours and their works do follow them._"