My friend was the eulogist of sincerity. He delighted to
trace its influence on the happiness of mankind; and proved that
nothing but the universal practice of this virtue was necessary to
the perfection of human society. His doctrine was splendid and
beautiful. To detect its imperfections was no easy task; to lay
the foundations of virtue in utility, and to limit, by that scale,
the operation of general principles; to see that the value of
sincerity, like that of every other mode of action, consisted in
its tendency to good, and that, therefore the obligation to speak
truth was not paramount or intrinsical: that my duty is modelled
on a knowledge and foresight of the conduct of others; and that,
since men in their actual state, are infirm and deceitful, a just
estimate of consequences may sometimes make dissimulation my duty
were truths that did not speedily occur. The discovery, when made,
appeared to be a joint work. I saw nothing in Ludlow but proofs of
candour, and a judgment incapable of bias.

The means which this man employed to fit me for his purpose,
perhaps owed their success to my youth and ignorance. I may have
given you exaggerated ideas of his dexterity and address. Of that
I am unable to judge. Certain it is, that no time or reflection
has abated my astonishment at the profoundness of his schemes, and
the perseverance with which they were pursued by him. To detail
their progress would expose me to the risk of being tedious, yet
none but minute details would sufficiently display his patience and
subtlety.

It will suffice to relate, that after a sufficient period of
preparation and arrangements being made for maintaining a copious