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[gap]At length, like many other victims to this
disease, he determined too late on a voyage in pursuit of
health. It was resolved that in the spring of 1810, he should
visit his brother James, who resides in England; but he lived
not to see that spring.

In the summer of 1809, he left home for a short time to pro-
cure some relief from disease, and to visit his friends in New
Jersey and New York. The following, written on the banks


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of the Hudson, conveys more than any thing his biographer
can say.

Hobocken, Friday afternoon.

“My dearest Mary; instead of wandering about, and view-
ing more nearly a place that affords very pleasing landscapes,
here am I, hovering over the images of wife, children and sis-
ters. I want to write to you and home, and though unable to
procure paper enough to form a letter, I cannot help saying
something, even on this scrap.

“I am mortified to think how incurious and inactive a mind
has fallen to my lot. I left home with reluctance. If I had
not brought a beloved part of my home along with me, I
should probably have not left it at all. At a distance from
home, my enjoyments, my affections are beside you. If sway-
ed by mere inclination, I should not be out of your company a
quarter of an hour, between my parting and returning hour:
but I have some mercy on you and Susan: and a due convic-
tion of my want of power to beguile your vacant hour with
amusement, or improve it by instruction. Even if I were
ever so well, and if my spirits did not continually hover on the
brink of dejection, my talk could only make you yawn, as
things are, my company can only tend to create a gap, indeed.

When have I known that lightness and vivacity of mind
which the divine flow of health, even in calamity, produces in
some men? and would produce in me, no doubt; at least,
when not soured by misfortune? never: scarcely ever: not
longer than an half hour at a time, since I have called myself
man: and not a moment since I left you on Wednesday morn-
ing. I then rose with such an head-ache as was likely to main-
tain its post for the rest of the week; and this circumstance
deprived me of any prospect of enjoyment from my journey,
while, at the same time, it determined me to go, because this
would have made me a companion to you ten times duller than
common, and absolutely unfitted me for any New York compa-
ny.

“I crossed the river without any particular views at ten
o’clock. I made inquiries about Amboy, but found no stage


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that was going that way for many hours, and none that was
going nearer than eight miles: and eight miles in this burning
atmosphere, was too much to walk; I could have found my
way thither, indeed, by other means, but there was none going
from the hook immediately in that direction, while there was
a stage just then starting for Belville. To Belville, according-
ly I went in two or three hours. ‘Tis a pleasant village on the
Passaick, where I staid till next morning. Chance gave me,
for companion, a well disposed, well informed Virginian, who
has been acquainted with Ogilvie these fifteen years, with
his wife and her family, and especially with Mrs. Ellis, of
whom you recollect O. told us much. A great deal in fine, of
most of those whom that oddity mentioned to us.

“Finding Passaic Falls to be only nine miles from Belville,
I went thither, on Thurday. The weather was insupport-
ably hot, and the fatigue of even those short walks which cu-
riosity required, added to my inharmonious feelings, contri-
buted to make the journey rather unprofitable. Glittering wa-
ter-falls are but dim, and hanging rocks hardly more interest-
ing than a sand moor, when viewed with misty eyes and ach-
ing brows.

“The afternoon was stormy, and the night and following
morning cold. This morning I was set down at Bergen, and
came hither to Hobocken, where I have a full view of New
York, and can indulge my fancy in what is going forward
there with more facility than twenty miles further off. How
have you employed yourself since Wednesday? perhaps you
are gone to Haarlem, and may stay till Monday. If so, I shall
be disappointed: yet glad too, for my Mary's affectionate
heart will be mortified at my precipitate return. And yet
there is no spot more salubrious than Greenwich, within fifty
miles of New York; and the leathern wings of a stage coach,
do not carry healing under them.

“Till here, I could not find books, which have, with me,
great efficacy in beguiling body of its pains, and thoughts of
their melancholy, in relieving heads and hearts of their aches.

“Are there any letters lying for me from home? what may
not have happened there in three long days? Death, funeral,


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interment, have room enough in that time. A thousand mis-
haps may take place within the compass of three long summer
days. I am strongly tempted to cross immediately, and would
if I could recross before night: for I am ashamed to present
myself before you before the week is fairly gone. In a few
hours I might receive letters, and meet you both. I am afraid
when the next horn sounds I shall find the temptation irresisti-
ble.”