Toi, qui joins la délicatesse
Des sentimens d'une maitresse
À la solidité d'une sure amitié,
David, il faut bien-tôt que la parque cruelle
Vienne rompre des si doux noeuds,
Et malgré nos cris et nos voeux
Bien-tôt nous assuirons une absence eternelle.
Adieu! adieu!"—MS. R.S.E.
[512:1] It is from more, perhaps, than the mere force of contrast, that, after reading this account of the manner in which the dying philosopher's thoughts were occupied,—the spelling of the family name, the imagined interview with Charon, &c. the following letter, addressed to him by a distant friend, possesses a peculiarly solemn interest.
William Strahan to Hume.