"Often do I wander into the forest to enjoy the cool refreshing shade of the trees, and undisturbed, to think of home—a sweeter contemplation to me now than all the beauties of nature.
"I have two very nice rooms, and a pretty garden attached, with arbours of trellis-work. I have built a nice place, myself, for poultry, and bought eight hens and two cocks, by which I intend soon to make money! They have aleady laid thirty-two eggs, which sell here at the rate of three half-pence each. One of my hens is hatching twelve eggs, and long before this letter reaches you, I hope to have a flourishing brood. There is a fine large tank close by our quarters, where I bathe twice every day and enjoy the luxurious size of my bath."
Five months later, he thus writes:
"My Darling Mother — I do love you, and that fondly, although I have often (and may God Almighty forgive me!) rebelled against your wishes.
"Mother, I ask your forgiveness for what has passed. You know not what real anguish some of your letters have caused me; and although I have tried to drown the voice of conscience, after reading them, a still small voice has always been whispering in my ear, and kept me from committing many a sin."
In writing, at the same time, to his sister, he alludes to forebodings of an early death occasionally coming across him, and wishes he were "prepared:"
"I am no coward, but the thought of death is solemn, and the idea of dying far away from home, with no fond mother or sister to give me comfort in my last moments, is sad enough. Yet I hope the effect of these reflections is wholesome, and will make me consider seriously whether I am fit to die."
He thus writes from Newcastle, on the 5th of June, 1849:
