The aim of Transcribe Georgian Papers is to produce useable text documents of the manuscript materials and not critical editions. Please be aware this document may contain errors in the transcription.
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Nor could one, risen from the dead proclaim This truth in deeper sounds to my conviction We want no preacher, to distinguish vice From Virtue. At our birth the God reveal'd All, conscience need to know. No codicil To Duty's rubrick here; and there was plac'd In some saints casual custody. Weak minds Wants their Souls fortune told by oracles And holy Jugglers; [[underline]] me [[/underline]] nor oracles, Nor prophets, Death alone can certify Whether ˄ [[addition]] when [[/addition]] Justice's full dues exacted Mercy will grant one drop to slake my torment. —Here father break we off. You to your calling I, [[underline]] to my tears, and mournful occupation. [[/underline]]
