mind, you would have reason to be surprised, and to doubt of their possibility.  Shall we ever meet again?  If we should, where will it be?  On the wild shores of——.  If it be my doom to end my days there, I will greatly improve them; and perhaps make room for a few more families, who will choose to retire from the fury of a storm, the agitated billows of which will yet roar for many years on our extended shores.  Perhaps I may repossess my house, if it be not burnt down; but how will my improvements look? why, half defaced, bearing the strong marks of abandonment, and of the ravages of war.  However, at present I give everything over for lost; I will bid a long farewell to what I leave behind.  If ever I repossess it, I shall receive it as a gift, as a reward for my conduct and fortitude.  Do not imagine, however, that I am a stoic—­by no means:  I must, on the contrary, confess to you, that I feel the keenest regret, at abandoning an house which I have in some measure reared with my own hands.  Yes, perhaps I may never revisit those fields which I have cleared, those trees which I have planted, those meadows which, in my youth, were a hideous wilderness, now converted by my industry into rich pastures and pleasant lawns.  If in Europe it is praise-worthy to be attached to paternal inheritances, how much more natural, how much more powerful must the tie be with us, who, if I may be permitted the expression, are the founders, the creators of our own farms!  When I see my table surrounded with my blooming offspring, all united in the bonds of the strongest affection, it kindles in my paternal heart a variety of tumultuous sentiments, which none but a father and a husband in my situation can feel or describe.  Perhaps I may see my wife, my children, often distressed, involuntarily recalling to their minds the ease and abundance which they enjoyed under the paternal roof.  Perhaps I may see them want that bread which I now leave behind; overtaken by diseases and penury, rendered more bitter by the recollection of former days of opulence and plenty.  Perhaps I may be assailed on every side by unforeseen accidents, which I shall not be able to prevent or to alleviate.  Can I contemplate such images without the most unutterable emotions?  My fate is determined; but I have not determined it, you may assure yourself, without having undergone the most painful conflicts of a variety of passions;—­ interest, love of ease, disappointed views, and pleasing expectations frustrated;—­I shuddered at the review!  Would to God I was master of the stoical tranquillity of that magnanimous sect; oh, that I were possessed of those sublime lessons which Appollonius of Chalcis gave to the Emperor Antoninus!  I could then with much more propriety guide the helm of my little bark, which is soon to be freighted with all that I possess most dear on earth, through this stormy passage to a safe harbour; and when there, become to my fellow passengers, a surer guide, a brighter