From Falmouth he wrote: “I am leading a queer life. Last night I slept in a car on some hay. I am well, but not accomplishing all I should like to; in fact, it would take a month or a year to learn this business. It requires business faculty, knowledge of men, a warm heart, or rather warm love for Christ, and for telling others about him. Mere machine labor don’t tell on souls. I feel as if I needed more of Christ in my own heart to be useful in a high degree to others. We have been doing what we could for the poor fellows leaving in the cars; that is, the wounded, who are sent off by hundreds every day for Washington.” Returning to Camp Convalescent, he wrote again: “Shall I come home? I don’t know; I am feeling my way along. I am interested, I hope much profited, by the work here. There are nine thousand men, with no one to care for their souls. The officers are not unfriendly. We are getting a church tent; we have good meetings, and seem blessed. Perhaps I am taking it too easily and too comfortably. “‘Be not forgetful to entertain strangers.’ A gentleman came out to see us day before yesterday, with his wife and child. It was too dark to return to Alexandria. As Mr. E. was away, I put the gentleman and his child into Mr. E.’s cot, and his wife into my own, and left them to enjoy them. I slept in our church tent, with a board floor; some boughs and three army blankets for a bed, and a log of wood for a pillow. Practice makes perfect. I gave them some breakfast, and sent them on their way rejoicing.” Soon after this he returned to college; and through manifold trials, arising from the weakness of his eyes, endeavored to hold on in the prosecution of his studies. In September he wrote: “The freshman class is great and populous, like the cities of the Anabasis. They are no striplings, but bearded men, who have gone to church in black coats, and gone afield in overalls for ten years of their lives. Their class president is a venerable chap with huge black beard and ample proportions--one whose face seems to say, ‘I have beheld the generations of men, lo, these many years.’ Nevertheless, ’66 put them through on Saturday night, causing them to sing songs and make speeches on tables which ever and anon disappeared from under them. I don’t believe in _hazing_; and I think our men will be unable to do more of it, because the freshmen are finding out that they are stronger than we are.”