November 11, 1863, he wrote as follows: “I have been thinking over my past life since my eyes have troubled me. As well as I can reckon, it was in the spring of 1858 they first gave out--the result of reading while recovering from a fever. I left school and went to Michigan. In the autumn I went back to school, and found my eyes improved as cold weather came on, and I went on for two years. I next broke down in the spring of 1860, and went into a store. In the fall of 1861 I went to the military school, and found my eyes but little better. I have gone through ’62 and ’63 in the same way; and now I find myself looking forward to the sixth spring since the first annoyance, and what are my prospects? They are as weak as ever, and I have not averaged over two hours and a half of studying this term. Can I hope that they will be any better next spring and summer? Can I hope that they will permanently improve in college and literary life? May I not hope to save my eyes by abandoning literary pursuits? I am not discouraged: I feel sufficiently buoyant; but I wish to exercise a manly judgment; above all, to please my Maker. If a sea voyage of _five years_ would cure me, I think it would be, perhaps, advisable.” The army, the sea, and the woods of Maine offered their several inducements. After counseling with the experienced, he decided to begin with lumbering; and, failing of advantage there, to make a second trial of farm life. He did both, employing ten months, with only partial improvement. IV. FARM LIFE. His months upon the farm were not permitted to be barren of spiritual results. The pastor whose ministrations he then enjoyed writes: “I yield, not unwillingly, to the impulse which prompts me, an entire stranger, to tell you that the announcement of the death of your noble son has brought sadness to many hearts in this community. It was with great pleasure that I made his acquaintance, on taking charge of this society; and I very soon found that he was exerting, in a quiet way, a most useful influence among those near his own age. He was recognized among them for what he was,--for what I at once saw him,--an open-hearted, intelligent, affectionate Christian youth; a recognized leader in the weekly prayer-meeting for young people; and I was exceedingly pleased with the frank and fearless character of his piety, which was no doubtful possession with him, but an integral part of his nature. The brightness of his intellect, too, and the easy play of his fancy, expressing itself often with singular fluency, rendered him all the more interesting and useful. We were all truly sorry when he left us, and I regretted him not only for his own sake, but as a helper in everything good among us, though none of us thought he was going from us to finish his course so soon.”