I shall pity George Bentley, when he loses so many friends with whom he is accustomed to pass a part of almost every day, but he will bear it better than Frederick would do in the same situation. How wonderfully the good and evil of life are balanced! Sensibility increases every pleasure, but as certainly augments every pain. George seems always to enjoy a sort of calm tranquillity, which generally defends him from any species of excitement. Is he happier than those of more sensitive structure? perhaps about the same. He gains on the one side what he loses on the other. He is an excellent young man, but he wants light and shade, that is, he wants variety. Characters, like countries, may be too little diversified, and in the midst of the highest cultivation, I should sigh for the sweet glens, and bowery labyrinths that lie in retreat, and offer their refreshing charms to those alone who love to seek their deep recesses. We hear from Arthur frequently, and I grieve to tell you that his letters bring us sad accounts of the Craytons. Mr. Otway, I believe, has made an effort to obtain some money from my uncle, but with what success I know not; however I greatly fear that no moderate sum would be of more than temporary use, for Lord C. is a determined gambler, and poor Adelaide has plunged into every sort of extravagance without supplies adequate to sustain it. Dear Arthur’s anxiety is corroding his spring time of life; and my poor aunt, I am told, is not lightening his uneasiness. These are gloomy subjects, and I will release my dearest Julia from their melancholy influence.--Adieu dear friend, Your affectionate, EMILY DOUGLAS. LETTER XXXII. FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. _Marsden._ My dearest Julia,