Note 3948 — THE CURE OF MELANCHOLY. (continued 5)

“But all my labour was unprofitable; for while death took off some of my friends, to others I remain unknown, or little liked, and these deceive me with false promises. Whilst I am canvassing one party, captivating another, making myself known to a third, my age increases, years glide away, I am put off, and now tired of the world, and surfeited with human worthlessness. I rest content.”