I cannot even make you over again. Have you but a grain of inclination, I will help you. If you wish to be nothing, once more I leave you to the tide. I regret profoundly, my dear young sir, not only for you in whom I see such a lively promise of the future, but for the sake of your admirable and truly worthy father and your no less excellent mamma, that my remarks should seem no more conclusive. Yes, sir, this is what I have observed.
Most men are happy, and most men dishonest.
I wish you may find degeneration no more painful than your neighbours, soon sink into apathy, and be long spared in a state of respectable somnambulism, from the grave to which we haste. P.O. Box 1200, Dartmouth, Nova Scotia.