"Ils m'ont dit: Choisis d'être oppresseur ou victime; J'embrassai le malheur, et leur laissai le crime."
Madame O'Connor, a child of five years old at her father's death, had a very faint recollection of him; but I perfectly remember him, with his ardent look, and, while still young, a grey head,--"a volcano covered with snow," as was observed of him. O'Connor's only child, a mild gentlemanly young man, but certainly not the inheritor of his parent's talents, predeceased him, so that no descendant, either of Condorcet or O'Connor, now survives.
[Footnote 1: Indeed, the general history of the kingdom is still a sad desideratum, and, in the impassioned dissensions of the people, not likely to be adequately supplied.]
By way of concluding my notes upon the MS. volume of poetry, from which I have already transcribed two pieces (inserted at pages 387. 485. of your present volume), I now send you the short poem referred to in my first communication:
"February 15th, past two in the morning. Going to bed very ill.
Oh, when shall I, from pain and sorrow free, Enjoy calm rest, and lasting peace with thee! When will my weary pilgrimage be o'er, } When shall my soul from earth to heav'n soar, } And, freed from flesh, the God of Gods adore. } Oh thou who only knowest what is best, Give me, oh give me, peace, content and rest! In life and death, oh be thou ever nigh, And my great weakness with thy strength supply. If on the bed of sickness I am laid, Then let me find that thou can'st give me aid. My drooping soul may thy blest Spirit che_a_r, And dissipate d_i_sponding gloomy fear. May the bright angels watch around my bed, And keep my timorous soul from fear and dread. And should excess of agony or pain, Or fever's rage o'er reason longest gain; Even then protect me by thy mighty power, Oh save me, save me, in that dreadful hour! Make every thought such as thou mayst approve, And every word show I my Maker love. If void of reason I should think, or say, _O_ught that's improper, wash such stain_e_s away. Resign'd unto thy will let me submit, With joy to whatsoe_v_er thou think'st fit. In peace let me resign my latest breath, And, void of fear, meet the grim tyrant death. My parting soul let me to God entrust, And hope a Resurrection with the just."