The Passion for Life

The Passion for Life by Joseph Hocking, author of “A Flame of Fire,” “The Chariots of the Lord,” “All for a Scrap of Paper,” “Dearer Than Life,” etc.

Contents
Illustration: “Yes. I have an intense desire to live.... A passion for life.”
Chapter 1. The Doctor’s Sentence
Chapter 2. My New Home
Chapter 3. The Churches’ Answer
Chapter 4. Three Visitors
Chapter 5. An Emerging Mystery
Chapter 6. The Lethbridge Family
Chapter 7. Isabella Lethbridge
Chapter 8. Mystery
Chapter 9. At the Vicarage
Chapter 10. Wireless Telegraphy
Chapter 11. Mary Treleaven
Chapter 12. First Days of the War
Chapter 13. Father and Son
Chapter 14. The Recruiting Meeting
Chapter 15. How the Change Began
Chapter 16. News from Hugh
Chapter 17. The Phantom Boats
Chapter 18. Father Abraham
Chapter 19. God Answered out of the Whirlwind
Chapter 20. The Vicar’s Sermon
Chapter 21. Missing--Dead
Chapter 22. A Discovery
Chapter 23. A Clue to the Mystery
Chapter 24. Preparation
Chapter 25. Premonitions
Chapter 26. Midnight
Chapter 27. Vision
Chapter 28. The New Life
Chapter 29. Christmas 1915


Chapter 1. The Doctor’s Sentence

I am in a restless mood to-night. There seems nothing to explain this, except that perhaps I am growing tired of the life I am leading, or it may be that there are influences at work of which I have no cognizance, but which affect my nerves. As I look out of my window I can see storm-clouds driven across the wild sky, while distant lights on the heaving sea are suggestive of mystery. The wind howls around my little wooden tenement, while above the roaring of the waves I can hear the dismal screech of the sea-birds, which, for some reason or other, have left their rocky resting-places. I do not know why it is, but the cry of the sea-birds is always suggestive of the wail of lost souls as they fly through the infinite spaces.

I did not mean to begin this way at all, for I want, as far as I can, to put all sad thoughts behind me.

Let me begin again then, and, if possible, strike a more cheerful note. I want something to interest me, and it has struck me that if during these long, dark evenings when I have to be alone I can place on record some of the events which have taken place since I have drifted to this part of the country, I shall be able not only to forget the shadow which hangs over my life, but to see streaks of blue sky amidst the storm-clouds, and to catch the bright rays of the sun which are constantly shining, even although the world says that we are living in a dark time.

But I am writing this also because, as it seems to me, the happenings of the last few months are of sufficient importance to record. Even although I were sure no one would read what I am going to write, I should still go on writing. Some one has said, I do not know who, that the life of a village is the life of a nation in miniature; and even although that may contain only a suggestion of the truth, certain am I that if I can faithfully record the events which have taken place in the little village of St. Issey, I shall have written something of the history of the great world outside. (Continued...)