ily a sign of
God's displeasure--that the highest life was a life of suffering, that
the Son of Man was a 'Man of Sorrows.' Everything seems to me to depend
upon the way in which one takes the pain--if one voluntarily says, 'Thy
kingdom come, Thy will be done,' then one is entering into the highest
life, and the pain becomes a new method of serving and knowing God. But
physical pain, if prolonged, is a terrible thing; and there is no time on
a bed of sickness for praying or thinking much of God unless one is
accustomed to do so in health. The needs of the poor body press in upon
one. Death-bed repentances are realities, but I am inclined to think
that they are very rare. It is terribly dangerous to defer being good
until we are ill. Illness does not necessarily make us good.

I am afraid I was but a poor coward, and yet my faith did not utterly
fail. God is the one hope for a man who is ill, and He is true to His
word. He {190} hides His face behind the clouds; but even when I
couldn't see Him at all, I felt that He was there. Pray for me; at
present I feel too weak to pray much for myself. I want--I do want--to
be a better man, to help others nearer the kingdom. I want, when life is
over, to have a better record to look back upon than I had in hospital.

_To F. S. H._

Alassio, Italy; January 2, 1904.

Your letter came to me at a time when I was rather low. I had to have a
second operation. However, after fifteen weeks of Nursing Homes I
escaped, and, as soon as I could, made my way to St. Moritz. For once
the place didn't seem to suit me very well. So, after little more than a
week, I came down into Italy. I am so far recovered now that I quite
hope to be able to go back to college at the beginning of this term.

Illness and pain have taught me some lessons--at least I hope so. I feel
solemnised, startled, when I think of how life looked when I could do
nothing for the time. Pray for me that I may be more real. I learnt,
too, how futile it is to put off repentance till sickness. It is hard at
such a time to think of aught save self and physical pain. And my own
pain was so trivial compared with that of others. O God! it is a
terrible thing. Some day shall we be able to understand, if not with the
head, with the heart, part of its meaning? Meanwhile the individual can
say, however feebly, 'Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done.'

{191}

_To his brother, a doctor in South Africa._

Alas