Life is indeed a sacred trust. I now began to feel that great and noble duties yet claimed me.
I had become dull and listless. I had taken life as it came, resigning my will to outer influences, just as one without appetite sits down to a meal, merely to gain nourishment.
I had become morbidly sensitive; every effort that was made to alleviate my sufferings and restore my accustomed spirits only served to pain me anew.
I was now experiencing the worst effect of grief--indifference to the world.
My path seemed to lie through dismal darkness; but at last I stepped out into the bright light of day and into the busy haunts of men.
The village street leads into the highway; the forest-brooks flow on until they reach the river that empties itself into the ocean.
Thus too has it been with my life.
Yielding to Joseph's earnest wishes, I had made a collection of specimens illustrating every stage in the cultivation and growth of the white pine. When the collection was complete, I sent it to the great Paris Exposition.
I received a medal of honor. I did not really deserve it; it should in justice have gone to Ernst, who had acquainted me with the results of his careful study of the subject.
I have the diploma, and the medal bearing the effigy of Napoleon. I looked at them but once, and then enclosed them under seal. They will be found in the little casket that contains my discharge from the fortress and other strange mementoes of the past.