Now let every unprejudiced reader take notice how little cause J. Backus has to reflect John Roger’s manner of death upon him, who lived to the age of seventy-three years, and then died in his own house on his own bed, having his reason continued to the last, and manifesting his peace with God and perfect assurance of a better life. He had also a very easy death, without any struggling or striving as is common to many people.—_Answer of John Rogers, 2d, to J. Backus._
If after an immunity of more than forty years, not only to himself but to his household, he takes cheery leave of family and friends, ere mounting his horse for the long journey, it is no wonder, nor if they take a like cheerful view of his departure. The Lord may bring him safely back, as so often before, even though his seventieth year is past. Yet—it may be that this call of the Master is to prove his faithfulness unto death.
His horse stands saddled by the roadside, with portmanteau packed for a brave and kindly stay, God willing, with the suffering and the forsaken. He is ready even to his jackboots, and his faithful watch tells him it is time for the start.[140] We look for no tremor here, even when he speaks the last farewell, but for the cheery word, the tender glance, the fervent grasp of the hand, the committal to God of those he holds dearest on earth, the agile spring to the saddle, and a still erect and manly figure vanishing at the turn of the road. It is not unlikely that a cavalcade of brethren accompany him some miles on his way.
In Inventory, watch, portmanteau and jackboots, also besides saddle, etc., a “male pillion,” indicating a frequent companion in his journeyings.
On and on, from the health-giving breezes of Mamacock, towards the plague-stricken city. Once there,—would we might follow him in his ministrations, even to that day when he remounts his horse for the homeward journey. Has the contagion so abated by the middle of October that he is no longer needed, or can he indeed be aware that he himself is attacked by the disease? Would it be possible for a man, after he had become sensible that the malady was upon him, to take the journey on horseback from Boston to New London? All that is known for a certainty is that after he reaches home the disease has developed. It seems probable that he was permitted to complete his mission in Boston and to leave there unconscious of the insidious attack awaiting him. Why was he stricken down at the close of this faithful effort to obey the command of the Master in the face of scorn and peril? One important result is to ensue. The unfaltering trust of the Rogerenes in an all-powerful and all-loving God is to be shown remaining as firm as though John Rogers had returned to them unscathed, and this unswerving trust in God’s promises, under circumstances calculated to shake such a trust to the uttermost, is to be attested over and over by the records of Connecticut.