Excerpt from The Life of Joseph Blanco White, Vol. 3 of 3
I Have a Hope that this will be the last Year of my Life: to wish it otherwise would be extreme imbecility. I cannot expect any sound Improvement in my Health. The Slow Fever which has uninterruptedly been upon me for more than twenty Days, must proceed from a total derangement in the biliary Organs, which, though it will not kill me, must in crease my general Debility and Helplessness. Every Year must deprive me of some remnant of Activity. My Solitude, combined with the Necessity of being idle, renders my Life intolerable. All Hopes of Usefulness have died in me.
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