political, economical, juridical, and ethnical aspects of slavery were
treated by the ablest men of the nation. Livingston was familiar
with every step of the controversy.
Having been interested in language-studies from early boyhood, he was in the habit, during these years, of practicing literary composition, and was also studying natural philosophy and chemistry in the district school. Despite his eye-trouble, he was still intent upon pursuing a regular course of study, and began his preparation for college in the spring of 1838, at the Galway Academy, under Professor Morgan. In the ensuing autumn he began to teach a common school, but his sight soon failed him, and from this time until he was thirty years old he was practically blind. The next two years were passed in the vain hope that time and rest would bring about a restoration of his vision. He was treated for a while by a local oculist of some reputation, but his eyes grew worse, and his general health became much impaired. This period, however, was not wasted. Much of it was spent in undisturbed reflection. His early habit of thinking for himself was now of great value. His excellent memory was stored with abundant material for thought, and perhaps nothing could have better promoted his solid education than those two years of quiet. But his habit of reading was also kept up; his brothers and sister, who had always been his loyal pupils, and were interested in everything that interested him, became his sympathetic co-workers in the study of any subject he chose. The classics, however, no longer occupied his attention; but he was already manifesting distinct tendencies toward scientific thought. Whatever taste or talent he may have had for experimental science, the state of his eyes prevented its pursuit. His love of science in its useful applications, and his enthusiasm for its popularization, were no doubt fostered by his blindness. Hence, while cut off from all part in the making of science, he was to find a most congenial field of labor in the work of its diffusion.
His eyes growing worse instead of better, in the fall of 1840 he came to New York for treatment in the eye infirmary. He remained there several weeks without improvement, when he was informed that the physician in charge regarded his case as hopeless. He left the institution at once, and visited other oculists in the city. Among these, Dr. Elliot gave him most encouragement, telling him that his eyes were by no means hopelessly ruined, and that he would undertake their cure for a fee of $150, to be paid in advance. The amount was at once obtained from home; and it may be added that this was the last money he would consent to accept from that source, ever after relying upon himself for support. The previous two years of indoor life, with occasional seasons of reducing medical treatment, had seriously impaired his vigor, and he was suffering under a constant liability to take cold on the most trifling exposure. After a few weeks of continuous but slow improvement, he began to see well enough to go
