 | Randolph |  |
ADVERTISEMENT.
There are some people, and two in particular, who, I
have good reason to believe, are in America at this moment,
whose feelings I would spare, although they may
have little hope or expectation of such forbearance;—but
sorrow and humiliation are sacred things—particularly
such sorrow and humiliation as theirs: like spots of green
earth, whereon the Deity hath spent his wrath—they cannot
be approached, by the stoutest heart, or sternest forehead,
without some emotion of terrour and solemnity. To
them, this advertisement is addressed, as a warning; and
I pray the publisher to indulge me so far, as to place it
where it will immediately attract the eye. I would cause
no spasm of the heart—no convulsion of the lips—even to
my enemy. The name of Randolph may alarm them. If
it should, they had better throw down the book: but, if it
should not, let them look at the initials at the bottom of
this. “They are used for the last time.” If they have
still the courage to proceed, the consequences be upon
their own head. If they have the wisdom to be silent,
all may be well, notwithstanding; for they will soon find
that I have no feeling of hostility or resentment toward
them. I am merely doing my duty. All the letters that
are genuine, I have come honestly by; and the rest are
compiled from data, in my own possession, whose authenticity,
they, I am sure, will be the last to dispute.—
I am conscious of no violation of “trust or delicacy;” and
had they consulted me, in any manner, except that of
direct personal communication, before they threatened
me; or, before they applied for the injunction, I could have
satisfied them, that the first mode of proceeding was childish,
and the last unwise, to say the least of it. There
would have been more discretion in silence; and if they
do not betray it, there is no other human being, not even
unhappy friend, in these volumes; or even to divine the
cause of their application to him.
The story is too remarkable, and the events too recent,
to be distinctly told; and the little that is revealed, in its
truth and nakedness, will be intelligible to only two human
creatures; and is barely enough for the justification of
an unfortunate and injured man, with them that are accessible
to no other means of justification. Chance may,
one day or other, when he is in his grave, bring the
right persons acquainted with all that is material. They
will weep then; and he will know it.....
In the mean time, the publick may be amused, and
agitated, perhaps, for a little season, without any suspicion
of the truth.
“Bridgewater.”
his last breath.” As for Randolph, he has nothing to
complain of. I have drawn him better than he is. If he
be disposed to quarrel—he knows where I am to be
found.
| Randolph | |