INGRATITUDE is a predominant principle in the conduct of man. The perfidious —, who owes to me his reputation and fortune, and with whom I intrusted a great part of my property, has deceived me. The affair will materially retard my business. TO be unfortunate in trade is not worth a sigh—to receive inattention and incivility does not merit a frown; but _Ingratitude_—it is this that cuts to the quick. Yet I freely give him my pity; for what man, who considered for a moment the inconsistency of the human heart, would hurl the thunderbolt of indignation at the head of an ingrate? What an important little thing is man! he contrives to over-reach his neighbour, and mount to the enjoyment of riches, ambition and splendour; but remember not the period of enjoyment—that his life is a day, and his space a point! NATURALISTS inform us of insects whose term of existence is confined to a few hours—What is the business and importance of such a life? WOULD not a being, whose _circle of living_ is immensity of ages, inquire with equal propriety: “What is the importance of _man_—What actions can he perform—What happiness can he enjoy, whose insignificant life is circumscribed to seventy years?”—In this point of view I behold the tinsel, the vanity and noise of the world, and the little plots and cunning artifices of mankind to cheat and ruin one another. INGRATITUDE, then, is constitutional, and inseparable from human nature, but it ought not to fill us with surprize, because it is no new discovery—It has ever been invariably the characteristick of man. Is not the page of antiquity distained with blood of those who ought to have received honour and adoration? Behold the brilliant race of the world’s benefactors: Consider their benevolent actions, and regard their ungrateful return—these benefactors, who have been sent from Heaven to inform and entertain mankind, to defend the world from the arm of tyranny, and to open the gates of salvation, have been despised, and banished, and poisoned and crucified. BEHOLD the support of the _Roman_ power, the invincible _Belisarius!_ who protected his country from the ravage of the _Huns_, and displayed the _Roman_ eagle in every quarter of the globe! Behold him fall a sacrifice to malice, to faction and ingratitude! Behold him cast out by the country he had defended, and for which he had wasted his life to protect and honour, and left alone to deplore his unfortunate condition, when he was old, and blind, and naked and miserable! UNFORTUNATE is the man who trusts his happiness to the precarious friendship of the world—I every day become more of a misanthrope, and see nothing to increase my desire of living, but your esteem and affection. I want advice, but am too proud to let the world know I am weak enough to be under obligation to anyone else. THAT you may never want friends or advice, is the sincere prayer of Yours &c.