_Belleview._ I THANK you for your letters, but I wish you had something better for the subject of them—the sad repetition of your feelings and sorrows, pains me exceedingly—I promise to be with you soon—perhaps before you can receive this letter. WHATEVER concerns my friend, most sensibly affects me—You, _Harrington_, are the friend of my heart, and nothing has so much grieved me as the story of your misfortunes. IT is a maxim well received, and seems to be admitted an article in the moral creed of mankind, “that the enjoyments of life do not compensate the miseries.” Since, then, we are born to suffer, and pain must attend us in all the stages of our journey, let us philosophically welcome our companion. The most eligible plan we can adopt, is to be contented in the condition that Providence hath assigned us. Let us trust that our burden will not be heavier than we can bear—When we adopt this plan, and are sensible we have this trust, our lesson is complete—we have learned all—we are arrived to the perfection of sublunary happiness. DO not think I am preaching to you a mere sermon of morality—let me impress your mind with the folly of repining, and the blessing of a contented mind. LET me intreat you not to puzzle your brain with vain speculations—if you are disposed to argue, do not put foolish cases that never existed—take the light of facts, and reason from them. WHEN we are surrounded with miseries of life—the baseness of false friends—the malice of enemies—when we are enveloped in those anxious fears, the result of too much sensibility, human nature feels a degree of oppression, which, without a manly exertion of reason and this practical philosophy, would be intolerable. I have heard you mention ST. EVREMOND as a philosopher of this kind. Arm yourself with his prudence and fortitude—he, though in exile—though reduced almost to penury, and labouring under the disadvantages of a bad constitution, lived to be a very old man; he established a course of rational pleasures—for when the mind is employed, we regret the loss of time—we become avaricious of life. WHEN misfortunes come upon us without these consolations, it is hard, I acknowledge, to buffet the storm—it is then human frailty is most apparent—there is nothing left to hope—Reason is taken from the helm of life—and Nature—helpless, debilitated Nature—lost to herself, and every social duty, splits upon the rocks of despair and suicide. We have seen several examples of this—By exploring and therefore shunning the causes, let us avoid the catastrophe.