Last Days on Earth.
On Christmas eve, 1771, a stroke of apoplexy deprived Swedenborg of his speech, and lamed one side. He lay afterwards in a lethargic state for more than three weeks, taking no sustenance beyond a little tea without milk, and cold water occasionally, and once a little currant jelly. At the end of that time, he recovered his speech and health somewhat, and ate and drank as usual. Mr. Hartley and Dr. Messiter at this time visited him, and asking him if he was comforted with the society of angels, as before, he answered that he was. They then asked him to declare whether all that he had written was strictly true, or whether any part or parts were to be excepted. “I have written,” answered Swedenborg, with a degree of warmth, “nothing but the truth, as you will have more and more confirmed to you all the days of your life, provided you keep close to the Lord, and faithfully serve Him alone, by shunning evils of all kinds as sins against Him, and diligently searching His Word, which, from beginning to end, bears incontestable witness to the truth of the doctrines I have delivered to the world.”
At this time Swedenborg seemed to love privacy, and saw but little company. His old friend, Springer, the Swedish Consul in London, called upon him a week or two before his decease. Springer asked him when he believed that the New Jerusalem, or the New Church of the Lord, would be manifested, and if this manifestation would take place in the four quarters of the world. Swedenborg replied: “No mortal can declare the time, no, not even the celestial angels; it is known solely to the Lord. Read the Revelation, chapter xxi. 2, and Zechariah, chapter xiv. 9, and you will find that it is not to be doubted that the New Jerusalem, mentioned in the Apocalypse, which denotes a new and purer state of the Christian Church, than has hitherto existed, will manifest itself to all the earth.”
About this time, says Springer, Swedenborg told him that his spiritual sight was withdrawn, after he had been favored with it for so long a course of years. This, of which the world knew nothing, and for which it cared nothing, it was the greatest affliction to him to lose. He could not endure the blindness, but cried out repeatedly, “O my God! hast thou then forsaken thy servant at last?” He continued for several days in this condition, but it was the last of his trials: he recovered his precious sight, and was happy.
About this time he wrote a note, in Latin, to the Rev. John Wesley, to the following effect:—
“GREAT BATH STREET, COLD BATH FIELDS, FEBRUARY, 1772.
“SIR,—I have been informed, in the world of spirits, that you have a strong desire to converse with me. I shall be happy to see you, if you will favor me with a visit.
“I am, sir, your humble servant,
“EMANUEL SWEDENBORG.”
When the note was handed to Mr. Wesley, he was in company with some of his preachers, arranging their preaching circuits for the year. Wesley read the note aloud, and frankly confessed that he had been strongly actuated by a desire to meet Swedenborg, but he had revealed his wish to no one. He wrote for answer, that he was then occupied in preparing for a six months’ journey, but would wait upon Swedenborg on his return to London. Swedenborg, in reply, stated that the proposed visit would be too late, as he should go into the world of spirits on the 29th day of the next month, (March,) never more to return. Wesley did not call, and they never met. Had he been wise, he would; in spite of engagements, have embraced this opportunity of conversing with that wonderful man, after an invitation of such a character. Had they met, Methodism might have been a different thing from what it is. But let us believe that all such seeming accidents are overruled for the best.
The authority for this anecdote is the Rev. Samuel Smith, a Methodist preacher, who was present when Wesley received Swedenborg’s letter. It excited his curiosity to know something of the writings of so remarkable a man; and the result was, a firm conviction of the rationality and truth of the heavenly doctrine promulgated in them, and a zealous activity in their diffusion, throughout the remainder of his life.
Mr. Bergstrom, the landlord of the King’s Arms tavern in Wellclose square, at whose house Swedenborg had once lodged, called to see him in his last days. Swedenborg told him, that since it had pleased the Lord to take away the use of his arm by palsy, his body was good for nothing but to be put under ground. Mr. Bergstrom asked him whether he would receive the Sacrament. Somebody present at the time proposed sending for the Rev. Mr. Mathesius, a minister of the Swedish Church. Swedenborg at once declined having that gentleman, for he had sent abroad a report that Swedenborg was out of his senses. (Mathesius himself, in later years, became deranged.) The Rev. Arvid Ferelius, another Swedish clergyman, with whom Swedenborg was on the best terms, and who had visited him frequently in his illness, was then sent for. Ferelius observed to him, that “as many persons thought he had endeavored only to make himself a name, or acquire celebrity in the world, by the publication of his new theological system, he should now be ready, in order to show justice to the world, to recant either the whole or a part of what he had written, since he had now nothing more to expect from the world which he was so soon to leave forever.” Upon hearing these words, Swedenborg raised himself half upright in his bed, and placing his sound hand upon his breast, said, with great zeal and emphasis, “As true as you see me before you, so true is everything which I have written. I could say more, were I permitted. When you come into eternity, you will see all things as I have stated and described them; and we shall have much discourse about them with each other.” Ferelius then asked him if he would take the Lord’s Holy Supper. He replied, “You mean well, but I, being a member of the other world, do not need it. However, to show the connection and union between the church in heaven and the church on earth, I will gladly take it.” He then asked Ferelius if he had read his views on the Sacrament. Before administering the Sacrament, Ferelius inquired whether he confessed himself to be a sinner. “Certainly,” said Swedenborg, “so long as I carry about with me this sinful body.” With deep and affecting devotion, with folded hands, and with his head uncovered, he confessed his own unworthiness, and received the Holy Supper. He then presented Ferelius with a copy of his Arcana Cœlestia, expressing his gratitude to him for his kind attentions.
He knew that his end was near. He told the people of the house on what day he should die, and Shearsmith’s servant remarked, “he was as pleased as I should have been, if I was going to have a holiday, or going to some merrymaking.”
His faculties were clear to the last. On Sunday, the 29th day of March, 1772, hearing the clock strike, he asked his landlady and her maid, who were both sitting at his bed-side, what o’clock it was; and upon being answered it was five o’clock, he said, “It is well; I thank you; God bless you;” and in a little moment after, he gently departed. He was then 84 years, 8 weeks, and five days, old.
His body was taken to the undertaker’s, where it lay in state; and then was, on the 5th day of April, deposited in three coffins, in the vault of the Swedish Church, in Prince’s square, Radcliffe Highway, with all the ceremonies of the Lutheran faith,—the service being performed by the Rev. Arvid Ferelius.
There the body still lies. No stone, or inscription marks the spot. Swedenborg of all men, least requires monumental commemoration. Every year enshrines his memory in increasing numbers of grateful hearts;—grateful to him, as a medium, whereby the Infinite Wisdom and Goodness might reach its end in blessing mankind by the advent of spiritual truth, and leading them within the gates of the Holy City, New Jerusalem.