But Soon, I Shall Die, And What

I, A Miserable Wretch, Haunted By A Curse That Shut Up Every Avenue To Enjoyment.

Oh! Be Men, Or Be More Than Men. Be Steady To Your Purposes And Firm As A Rock. This Ice Is Not Made Of Such Stuff As Your Hearts May Be; It Is Mutable And Cannot Withstand You If You Say That It Shall Not. Do Not Return To Your Families With The Stigma Of Disgrace Marked On Your Brows. Return As Heroes Who Have Fought And Conquered, And Who Know Not What It Is To Turn Their Backs On The Foe.

The Air Of Fashion, Which Many Young People Are So Eager To Attain, Always Strikes Me Like The Studied Attitudes Of Some Modern Prints, Copied With Tasteless Servility After The Antigue; The Soul Is Left Out, And None Of The Parts Are Tied Together By What May Properly Be Termed Character.

I See By Your Eagerness, And The Wonder And Hope Which Your Eyes Express, My Friend, That You Expect To Be In Formed Of The Secret With Which I Am Acquainted. That Cannot Be.

I Am Very Averse To Bringing Myself Forward In Print, But As My Account Will Only Appear As An Appendage To A Former Production, And As It Will Be Confined To Such Topics As Have Connection With My Authorship Alone, I Can Hardly Accuse Myself Of A Personal Intrusion.