My dear friend, you must not go: I cannot bear the thoughts of it.
'Tis little less melancholy than following you to your grave.
Your affectionate friend,
JAMES COGSWELL.
FROM PETER COLT.
Watertown, 11th September, 1775.
I cannot retire to rest till I have written you a few lines, to excuse
my casting so many discouragements in the way of your journey to
Quebec. At first I did not think it so hazardous; but, upon inquiring
of those who had more knowledge of the country, thought it too
fatiguing an undertaking for one of your years; and I find it
altogether against the sentiments of your friends. I think you might
be fairly excused, without the risk of being reported as timid, as the
hopes of your family depend in a great degree upon you. I should have
rejoiced to see you relinquish this expedition; but, as you are
determined to pursue it, must beg you not to let any thing we have
said to you depress your spirits, or damp your resolution, as it may
otherwise have a fatal effect. We have held up the dark side of the
picture, in order to deter you from going. You must now think only on
the bright side, and make the least of every disagreeable circumstance
attending your march. Let no difficulty discourage you. The enterprise
is glorious, and, if it succeeds, will redound to the honour of those
who have planned and executed it.
May God give you health and strength equal to the fatigue of the
march, and preserve you safe from every danger you may encounter.
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