ing this abominable sink of wickedness, pestilence and
folly--the city of Algiers. I have a pretty extensive and
dear-bought knowledge of mankind; a most valuable collection
of books; a pure and undivided taste for domestic
tranquillity, the social intercourse of friends, study, and
the exercise of charity. I have a moderate but sufficient
income, perfect health, an unimpaired constitution, and, to
give the relish to all enjoyments and smooth away the
asperities that might arise from unforeseen calamities, I
have the wife that my youth chose and my advancing age has
cherished--the pattern of excellence, the example of every
virtue--from whom all my joys have risen, in whom all my
hopes are centred.

"I will use every precaution for my safety, as well for your
sake as mine. But if you should see me no more, my dearest
friend, you will not forget I loved you. As you have valued
my love, and as you believe this letter is written with an
intention to promote your happiness at a time when it will
be for ever out of my power to contribute to it in any other
way, I beg you will kindly receive the last advice I can
give you, with which I am going to close our endearing
intercourse.... Submitting with patience to a destiny that
is unavoidable, let your tenderness for me soon cease to
agitate that lovely bosom: banish it to the house of
darkness and dust, with the object that can no longer be
benefited by it, and transfer your affections to some worthy
person who shall supply my place in the relation I have
borne to you. It is for the living, not the dead, to be
rendered happy by the sweetness of your temper, the purity
of your heart, your exalted sentiments, your cultivated
spirit, your undivided love. Happy man of your choice should
he know and prize the treasure of such a wife! Oh, treat her
tenderly, my dear sir: she is used to nothing but kindness,
unbounded love and confidence. She is all that any
reasonable man can desire. She is more than I have merited,
or perhaps than you can merit. My resigning her to your
charge, though but the result of uncontrollable necessity,
is done with a degree of cheerfulness--a cheerfulness
inspired by the hope that her happiness will be the object
of your care and the long-continued fruit of your