_Harrington_ to _Worthy_.
_Boston._
THE longer I live, and the more I see the misery of life—the
more my desire of living is extinguished. What I formerly esteemed
trifles, and would not deign to term misfortunes, now appear with a
formidable aspect—though I once thought them harmless, and innoxious to
my peace, they assume new terrours every day.—But is not this
observation general? It is—It is thus every son of human nature,
gradually wishes for death, and neglects to seek for, and improve those
comforts, which by diligent search there is a possibility of attaining.
AM I to reason from analogy? I know what has been—the afflictions I have
felt; but what is the prospect before me? The path is darkened by mists—