longing: — "absent from the body, present with the Lord." His subject on the first day was 2 Cor. v., on the last Rev. xxii.
With his mother and sisters he held unreserved communion on the things which belonged to their peace. His second sister remembers that when pressing the duty of reading the Word of God with prayer before the work of the day began, he mentioned that whilst visiting his valued friends, Mr. and Mrs. Round, of Birch Hall, Essex, he had slept one morning later than usual, and had gone down to family prayers without having had time for his private devotions. "My soul was the worse for it," he said, "for nearly three weeks afterwards."
Affectionate as he had ever been, there was, during this last visit, a depth of quiet tenderness about him which, they now feel, was a mute prophecy that this was his last welcome home.
Very early in the morning of the day he left for London, he and his mother met for prayer. He knelt long by her side, pouring out his heart in pleading with God for her, that grace and strength might be given for every hour of need. Strengthened in spirit by that prayer, she was able, with his sisters, to accompany him as far as the station. The remembrance of his last embrace, his last look, his last blessing, enriches their hearts still, and makes the place of their parting seem almost holy ground.
A few days before the Light Company of the 97th left Kensington Barracks for their embarkation, I had an opportunity of conversing with some of the men. They spoke with great respect and affection for their favourite officer. One of them, named Reynolds, said, "Since Mr. Vicars became so good, he has steadied about four hundred men in the regiment."
"Four hundred!" was repeated with surprise.
"I don't mean that he has made all the four hun-
