VIII.— THE HOSPITAL.
The path of Hedley Vicars for nearly three years past, had been as a shining light in the eyes of all who watched it. But during his last year upon earth it shone "more and more unto the perfect day."
Doubtless, for a heart at once so tender in its own feelings, and so intent on sustaining the spirits of others, there was a discipline of no light character in the partings he had just gone through, with a presage that they were final; and although the hopes of young, high-hearted manhood rose at times above that solemn foreboding, it ran like an under-current through the remainder of his course, and deepened his earnestness in pressing after the prize set before him.
Before the Orinoco sailed from the shores of England, he found time to pour forth the overflowings of his full heart in the following letters to his mother, and to one of the friends with whom he had last parted:
TO HIS MOTHER.
"On Board the Orinoco, May 19th, 1854.
" * * * I feel grateful to God for having given me so many kind Christian friends, but far above all, for having given me such a mother, whose prayers, I believe, God has answered in leading me for shelter and refuge to the cross of Christ. Do not, I beseech
