"Remember me most kindly to Gregory, Wood, Wakefield, and Dibley, and all my friends among the navvies. May the Lord give them grace to follow after the things that make for their peace, and to 'fear not the reproach of men, neither to be afraid of their revilings.' I remember them all in my prayers. Oh, may they all hold on to the end![1] Do tell them that I value their prayers more than I can express, and give them my best wishes for their interests, both temporal and spiritual. I shall probably see them no more on earth, as we are daily expecting our final orders."
But these final orders were not given until several weeks later, weeks of no common value to those who loved him.
During this period, an interest and a hope which, for some time past, he had felt it to be his duty to repress, revived with an earnestness and brightness which cast a new colouring over his views of an earthly future, and in a measure effaced the impression that he should not live to return home. Precious as his life had ever been to others, it now became of double value, for it belonged, not to his friends alone—not to his mother and his family alone—but to one whose early affection was entirely his, and whose spirit was of kindred quality.
The hope of returning to claim her as his own for ever, was very near his heart, and throughout the long months of his last miserable winter before Sebastopol, had no unimportant influence in keeping his spirit bright and strong. His earthly love was not the less deep and fervent, because it was subordinate to a love yet higher.
As he was quartered, in the months of April and
- ↑ Thomas Dibley, navvy, late of the Army Works Corps, died of cholera in the Crimea, August 28th, 1855. By the grace of God he did "hold on to the end."
