His friends heard him proclaim his resolution without
suspecting that he intended to pursue it; but he
was constant to his purpose, and with great expedition
closed his accounts and sold his moveables,
passed a few days in bidding farewell to his
companions, and with all the eagerness of romantick
chivalry crossed the sea in search of happiness.
Whatever place was renowned in ancient or modern
history, whatever region art or nature had distinguished,
he determined to visit: full of design and
hope he landed on the continent; his friends expected
accounts from him of the new scenes that opened in
his progress, but were informed in a few days, that
Euryalus was dead.
Such was the end of Euryalus. He is entered that
state, whence none ever shall return; and can now
only benefit his friends, by remaining to their
memories a permanent and efficacious instance of the
blindness of desire, and the uncertainty of all terrestrial
good. But perhaps, every man has like me lost an
Euryalus, has known a friend die with happiness in
his grasp; and yet every man continues to think
himself secure of life, and defers to some future time
of leisure what he knows it will be fatal to have
finally omitted.
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