I may surely be contented without the praise of perfection, which,
if I could obtain, in this gloom of solitude, what would it avail
me? I have protracted my work till most of those whom I wished to
please have sunk into the grave, and success and miscarriage are
empty sounds: I therefore dismiss it with frigid tranquillity,
having little to fear or hope from censure or from praise.

THE END