INTRODUCTION.
More than a year ago I conceived the idea of writing a history of the work of my husband, Dr. W. H. Hopson. I did not at first think of publishing it, but it grew upon my hands until it became a book. It served to while away many a weary hour of the patient invalid, whose life lies wholly in the past.
By the advice of brethren who have published books, I have endeavored to condense as much as possible. I have left out many incidents and the names of hundreds of loved friends, for want of space. One request the Doctor made, that I should not put anything upon record that would convey a censure to any human being, or leave an impression in the mind of any one that he had a feeling of enmity in his heart toward any.
If the book is full of imperfections, and does not meet the expectations of friends, they will remember it was written by a nurse in a sick-room, with constant interruption to wait on the loved invalid, and often with a heart full of unshed tears. Then do not judge too critically. I have left much of his beautiful, sacrificing life for others to portray, and thank them from my heart for their loving and comforting letters, appended in the book.
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[vi. ]
INTRODUCTION
They show clearly that those who knew him best, and came closest to his inner life, loved him most.
For him the sun of life is setting, but to him in a halo of glory. He has no fear for the future; and, as he slowly drifts from us toward the great ocean of eternity, his hopes brighten, his vision grows clearer, and he realizes more and more what it will be to rest from his labors, with those he loves, in the Paradise of God.
I hope my imperfect tribute of affection to one on whose strong arm I have leaned for thirty-seven years may be read in the spirit of love in which it has been written, and serve to perpetuate the memory of my husband in the hearts of the many he loved so well.
ELLA LORD HOPSON.
NASHVILLE, Tenn., July 20, 1887.
