“However widely, my much valued friend, the theory and practice of our lives may have differed, I flatter myself that at this moment our sentiments are the same. That there is a just God, I never once doubted; and that he is merciful, and willing to pardon the sins of the penitent, it is now my interest firmly to believe. My career is nearly finished—I have languished long, and been very miserable; for, until within a few months, I never dared encourage a hope of pardon from Heaven; and although my mind is become more tranquil, I still fear that I am a great way from salvation, though I feel I am but a step from the grave. I can now see that your reasons for avoiding me were just, but I think they were cruel. Great God! What have I been—what am I to be? Gracious Heaven! If the very little you knew of me could make you avoid me, what will you think after reading my journal? I have often intended to burn it—I wish you would do so: yet, it may be useful in warning some fellow-creature of the damnation which the labours of my life had industriously prepared. If you think so, dispose of it as you like.—My false shame is all gone. I care not now who knows my wickedness. But should you ever make it public—oh! spare my family—my beloved, wretched mother:—happy for us both had I never been born. I wish you were now with me; but, it was my misfortune through life never to have a friend—and I neglected Him who in death would not have forsaken me. “I leave this, together with the journal of my perdition, and the blessed book you so long ago recommended, in the care of L. G., who promises to deliver them to you. Have I fallen so low in your estimation that you exclude me entirely from calling you friend? Alas! I never had a friend. My proud heart could never sue for any man’s pity; but I beseech you not do deny me yours. O pray for me.—May your life be as happy as mine has been miserable.—Adieu,—Adieu! “—— F——.” The only regret I feel in giving these interesting memoirs to the public is the fear, indeed almost the painful certainty, that the wounds of his respectable family may thus be made to bleed afresh, in the recollection of his errors. I persuade myself, however, that they will acquit me of any unworthy motive, much less wanton desire to inflict unnecessary pain: rather a thousand times would I pour into their afflicted bosoms the healing balm of friendly sympathy and pity; and whilst I pursue the dismal narrative, my own heart will remain no stranger to the feelings of sorrow due to the fate of my unfortunate hopeless friend. Before I proceed to any extract from this curious biography, it may not be out of place just to glance at his early life and education.