The next morning he seemed slightly to revive, but about noon he had a chill, which left him unconscious. At 5 p. m., Sabbath, August 6, 1881, he quietly breathed his life away, without a struggle or a groan. (1T 110.1) MC VC

The shock of my husband’s death—so sudden, so unexpected—fell upon me with crushing weight. In my feeble condition I had summoned strength to remain at his bedside to the last, but when I saw his eyes closed in death, exhausted nature gave way, and I was completely prostrated. For some time I seemed balancing between life and death. The vital flame burned so low that a breath might extinguish it. At night my pulse would grow feeble, and my breathing fainter and fainter till it seemed about to cease. Only by the blessing of God and the unremitting care and watchfulness of physician and attendants was my life preserved. (1T 110.2) MC VC

Though I had not risen from my sickbed after my husband’s death, I was borne to the Tabernacle on the following Sabbath to attend his funeral. At the close of the sermon I felt it a duty to testify to the value of the Christian’s hope in the hour of sorrow and bereavement. As I arose, strength was given me, and I spoke about ten minutes, exalting the mercy and love of God in the presence of that crowded assembly. At the close of the services I followed my husband to Oak Hill Cemetery, where he was laid to rest until the morning of the resurrection. (1T 110.3) MC VC

My physical strength had been prostrated by the blow, yet the power of divine grace sustained me in my great bereavement. When I saw my husband breathe his last, I felt that Jesus was more precious to me then than He ever had been in any previous hour of my life. When I stood by my first-born, and closed his eyes in death, I could say: “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” Job 1:21. And I felt then that I had a comforter in Jesus. And when my latest born was torn from my arms, and I could no longer see its little head upon the pillow by my side, then I could say: “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” Job 1:21. And when he upon whose large affections I had leaned, with whom I had labored for thirty-six years, was taken away, I could lay my hands upon his eyes, and say: I commit my treasure to Thee until the morning of the resurrection. (1T 110.4) MC VC

December 14 he was taken worse, and I was called up. As I listened to his labored breathing and felt his pulseless wrist, I knew that he must die. The icy hand of death was already upon him. That was an hour of anguish for me. We watched his feeble, gasping breath until it ceased, and could but feel thankful that his sufferings were ended. When my child was dying, I could not weep. My heart ached as though it would break, but I could not shed a tear. At the funeral I fainted. We were disappointed in not having Brother Loughborough to conduct the funeral services, and my husband spoke upon the occasion to a crowded house. We then followed our child to Oak Hill Cemetery, there to rest until the Life-giver shall come, to break the fetters of the tomb and call him forth immortal. (1T 246.1) MC VC

After we returned from the funeral, my home seemed lonely. I felt reconciled to the will of God, yet despondency and gloom settled upon me. We could not rise above the discouragements of the past summer. From the state of God’s people we knew not what to expect. Satan had gained control of the minds of some who were closely connected with us in the work, even of some who had been acquainted with our mission and seen the fruit of our labors, and who had not only witnessed the frequent manifestation of the power of God, but had felt its influence upon their own bodies. What could we hope for in the future? While my child lived, I thought I understood my duty. I pressed my dear babe to my heart and rejoiced that at least for one winter I should be released from any great responsibility, for it could not be my duty to travel in winter with my infant. But when he was taken from me, I was again thrown into great perplexity. (1T 246.2) MC VC

The condition of God’s cause and people nearly crushed us. Our happiness ever depends upon the state of the cause of God. When His people are in a prosperous condition, we feel free; but when they are backslidden and there is discord among them, nothing can make us joyful. Our whole interest and life have been interwoven with the rise and progress of the third angel’s message. We are bound up in it, and when it does not prosper, we experience great suffering of mind. (1T 246.3) MC VC