P.S. I would not seal my letter last night, lest I should have boasted too soon of my triumph over the northern blasts; but this morning finding even my complexion not the worse for its malice, I no longer hesitate to say, that Eolus resembles his stern-faced sister _Adversity_, only oppose each in their own way: _he_ may be fearlessly encountered, and _she_ softened down to a friendly aspect. Activity and firmness are the only guards against both. With this armour within and without, we shall neither shrink from the storm of the elements, nor faint at the visitation of the angel who is sent to purify our hearts with an efficacy not less salutary than that agent of mercy, which directs the whirlwinds in their desolating career to sweep away plagues, pestilence, and death, from the air we breathe. I have just now made my dear Mrs. Allen look grave. I had forgotten my wrappers this morning, in crossing the passage to Lady Maclairn's apartment. She appealed to Lady Maclairn, and again, it was "_impossible_" my blood could be in a state to resist cold. I had just finished my last moral inference, and I could not at once be made to tremble at the tempered breeze of a covered passage. I argued in favour of my own theory; she maintained that I had more confidence in my strength than was prudent. "Alas!" replied I, "how many wretches, more feeble than myself, bide the pelting of the pitiless storm!" "Poor naked wretches, with houseless heads and unfed sides who protects them from cold, my dear friend?" "Who indeed!" replied she, with the glow of pity we have so often remarked, "who but that Being whose providential care is with _many_ a subject of speculation, with some _a doubt_, and with multitudes neither remembered nor acknowledged."