elief in, and our duty
towards Him; which, in my humble opinion, can be best shown by us in our
love and charity towards our fellow-creatures--the master-work of his
hands.

I would not willingly close this record of my life, without expressing a
few words of heartfelt gratitude towards the multitude from whom, in the
intercourse of the world, I have experienced good offices; and towards
the few who, in the hour of my trials and adversities, remained with
faces towards me steadfast and unalterable, scorning the fickle who
scoffed, and the Levite who passed by on the other side. Of old hath it
been said, that a true friend is the medicine of life; and in the day of
darkness, when my heart was breaking, and the world with all its concerns
seemed shaded in a gloom never to pass away, how deeply have I
acknowledged the truth of the maxim! How shall I repay such kindness?
Alas! it is out of my power. But all I can do, I do. I think of it on
my pillow at the silent hour of midnight; my heart burns with the
gratitude it hath not--may never have an opportunity of showing to the
world; and I put up my prayer in faith to Him who seeth in secret, that
he may bless and reward them openly.

Sorrows and pleasures are inseparably mixed up in the cup set for man's
drinking; and the sunniest day hath its cloud. But I have made this
observation, that if true happiness, or any thing like true happiness, is
to be found in this world, it is only to be purchased by the practice of
virtue. Things will fall out--so it hath been ordained in this scene of
trial--even to the best and purest of heart, which must carry sorrow to
the bosom, and bring tears to the eyelids; and then to the wayward and
the wicked, bitter is their misery as the waters of Marah. But never can
the good man be wholly unhappy; he has that within which passeth show;
the anchor of his faith is fixed on the Rock of Ages; and when the dark
cloud hath glided over--and it will glide--it leaves behind it the blue
and unclouded heaven.

If, concerning religious matters, a tone of levity at any time seems to
infect these pages, I cry ye mercy; for nothing was further from my
intention; yet, though acknowledging this, I maintain that it is a vain
thing to look on religion as on a winter night, full of terror, and
darkness, and storms. No one, it strikes me, errs more widely than he
who supposes that man was made to mourn--that the sanctity of the heart
is shown by the leng