 be the fate of those who press forward, yet, their generous efforts will not be lost.—Posterity will plant the olive and the laurel, and consecrate their mingled branches to the memory of such, who, daring to trace, to their springs, errors the most hoary, and prejudices the most venerated, emancipate the human mind from the trammels of superstition, and teach it, that its true dignity and virtue, consist in being free.

Ere I sink into the grave, let me behold the son of my affections, the living image of him, whose destiny involved mine, who gave an early, but a mortal blow, to all my worldly expectations—let me behold my Augustus, escaped from the tyranny of the passions, restored to reason, to the vigor of his mind, to self controul, to the dignity of active, intrepid virtue!

The dawn of my life glowed with the promise of a fair and bright day; before its noon, thick clouds gathered; its mid-day was gloomy and tempestuous.—It remains with thee, my friend, to gild with a mild radiance the closing evening; before the scene shuts, and veils the prospect in impenetrable darkness.


