 relation.
Thus lived Mr. Ellison, enjoying in sweet and contented retirement, the highest bliss and self-satisfaction that human nature is capable of, and which can only be obtained by a truly well spent and virtuous life: Deriving from a pious and humane sensibility, that happy and constant serenity of conscience, that is only the attendant on good actions. Guided by it, he was early led to indefatigable industry, and a steady and prudent attention to business. This he knew was not only the surest and most rational way to prosper in life—but also the most pleasing and self-satisfactory—that it was not only the way, whereby he could expect to place himself above dependency—but that it was likewise the only means which could enable him to gratify the utmost wish of his heart—the being able to relieve his fellow creatures.

His industry, as it was guided by a a generous prudence, and a constant and steady adherence to the dictates of conscience and humanity, could not fail of the greatest success;—but although it raised him to the greatest affluence, it did not raise him above himself—he still retained the sentiments he at first set out with, blessing and crowning with the most delightful happiness, all around him— He sought not the favours of the great, or the respect of the affluent—but the approbation of his own conscience.—He delighted not in the bustle of courts or of the world—but, while he thought it his duty, he gave himself to business, and pursued it with unwearied attention; and, being favoured by Heaven to the utmost of his wishes, he chose a retirement most suitable to his inclination; where, sequestered from the noise and bustle of life, he could gratify, unmolested, the purest desires of his soul, and enjoy himself in peace and satisfaction—where, envied by none— but adored by all—he might be a father to the fatherless—and a protector to the widow —a comforter to the afflicted—and a friend to the whole human race.

We could not take leave of this worthy family at a better time, than when it enjoys the utmost felicity the world can afford, lest, by some of those unavoidable misfortunes, which in the course of time must befal every mortal being, the scene may be overcast, and those who are now the happiest of mortals, become objects of compassion.




