among his
papers after his death nearly sixteen years later. This letter has
already appeared in print, but it will be new to most of our readers,
and it is so remarkable in itself, and throws such light on the
character of the writer, that, in spite of its length, no apology is
required for inserting it here:

"_To Mrs. Barlow in Paris_:

"ALGIERS, 8th July, 1796.

"MY DEAREST LIFE AND ONLY LOVE: I run no risk of alarming
your extreme sensibility by writing this letter, since it is
not my intention that it shall come into your hands unless
and until, through some other channel, you shall be informed
of the event which it anticipates as possible. For our happy
union to be dissolved by death is indeed at every moment
possible; but at this time there is an uncommon degree of
danger that you may lose a life which I know you value more
than you do your own. I say I _know_ this, because I have
long been taught, from our perfect sympathy of affection, to
judge your heart by mine; and I can say solemnly and truly,
as far as I know myself, that I have no other value for my
own life than as a means of continuing a conjugal union with
the best of women--the wife of my soul, my first, my last,
my only love. I have told you in my current letters that the
plague is raging with considerable violence in this place. I
must tell you in this, if it should be your fortune to see
it, that a pressing duty of humanity requires me to expose
myself more than other considerations would justify in
endeavoring to save as many of our unhappy citizens as
possible from falling a sacrifice, and to embark them at
this cruel moment for their country. Though they are dying
very fast, it is possible that my exertions may be the means
of saving a number who otherwise would perish. If this
should be the case, and _I_ should fall instead of _them_,
my tender, generous friend must not upbraid my memory by
ever thinking I did too much. But she cannot help it: I know
she cannot. Yet, my dearest love, give me leave, since I
must anticipate your affliction, to lay before you some
reflections which would recur to you at _last_, but which
ought to strike your mind at _first_, to mingle with and
assuage your first emotions of grief. You cannot judge at
you