On his last birthday he writes: "This day I enter into my eighty-eighth year. For above eighty-six years I found none of the infirmities of old age; my eye did not wax dim, neither was my natural strength abated. But last August I found almost a sudden change--my eyes were so dim that no glasses would help me; my strength likewise quite forsook me and probably will not return in this world. But I feel no pain from head to foot, only it seems nature is exhausted, and, humanly speaking, will sink more and more till 'The weary springs of life stand still at last.'" He attended and presided at his last Conference, held at Bristol, July 20, 1790. Anxious to devote every hour and moment to the service of the Master, he visits Cornwall, London, and the Isle of Wight, and then returns to Bristol. He is again in London, and then he is seen standing under the shade of a large tree at Winchelsea, preaching his last outdoor sermon. Though unable to preach longer in the open air, he still continues to preach "the glorious Gospel of the blessed God." At Colchester rich and poor, clergy and laity, throng to hear him in wondering crowds. At Norwich, where once mob violence swept everything, he is received as an angel of mercy. At Yarmouth the house is thronged. At Lynn all the clergymen in the town, save one who was lame, came out to hear him. Again he is in London preaching in all his chapels, and even making preparations to visit Ireland and Scotland, but these last visits his failing strength will not allow. Well does Tyerman call him "the flying evangelist." The shadows are lengthening, and he seems conscious that his end is near. He preaches his last sermon at Leatherhead, Wednesday, February 3, 1791, from Isa. lv, 6: "Seek ye the Lord while he may be found, call ye upon him while he is near." He concluded the sermon by singing one of Charles Wesley's hymns: "O that without a lingering groan I may the welcome word receive; My body with my charge lay down, And cease at once to work and live!" On that day fell from his lips a Gospel trumpet which had sounded the word of life more frequently and effectually than was ever known to have been done by an uninspired man. CHAPTER XVIII. WESLEY AND HIS TRIUMPHANT DEATH. WESLEY had reached his home--City Road--the proper place from which to be translated to his heavenly mansion. He is waiting for the chariot. His friends are deeply anxious. Joseph Bradford sends the following dispatch to the preachers: "Dear brethren, Mr. Wesley is very ill. Pray! Pray! Pray!" Looking over the whole of an extended life of unparalleled labor and suffering, he exclaims: "I the chief of sinners am, But Jesus died for me." The day following he was heard to say, "There is no way into the holiest but by the blood of Jesus." He frequently, with full heart, sang Watts's rapturous hymn, beginning: "I'll praise my Maker while I've breath."