that the abscess had already been operated upon and dressed, and that it was in reality a carbuncle. Such was the uncommon fortitude Vidyasagar possessed. Even in the agonised death-bed, he displayed the same extraordinary fortitude.
The whole of Tuesday, the 29th July, 1891, was a prolonged period of intense anxiety and fearful suspense. Every hope was extinct. The patient lay in the room, where hung his mother's portrait. He had been laid down with his head on the north side, while his mother's picture was hanging on the eastern wall. He was quite speechless and evidently insensible; but, by what enchantment God knows, the dying man in an instant turned himself with his head to the west, exactly facing the likeness of his beloved mother. He then gazed intently at the portrait, and shed an incessant torrent of tears.
All hopes were gone. Every moment was anticipated to be the last. The son, daughters, grandchildren, brothers, sisters, friends, relations, dependents, all watched the movements of the face with close attention. But it was as calm and tranquil as ever; no expression of internal agonies was visible in it; the countenance was very placid. The morning, noon, afternoon passed in this state of utter suspense, In the evening, the hard breathings which had already begun, became feebler and feebler, till it was almost inaudible. The pulse, which had already begun to fall down, sank and
