an operation which he endured with heroic fortitude. But what the soul could bear without flinching was too much for the body. Sent to Turner's Lane Hospital, in Philadelphia, it was soon evident that, in the incessant fatigues of the long campaign, he had poured out his vitality drop by drop. His once vigorous system had broken under the surgical operation, and it was only left for him to bear, as he did with the fortitude of a fearless soldier and a Christian gentleman, his last excruciating agonies. On arriving at the hospital on August 24th, he wrote to one of his brothers in the gallant vein which always marked him, —a letter designed to relieve anxiety. But its painful handwriting bore witness against it.
Six days later, he wrote to Professor Child as follows:—