I am told that you are preparing a new edition, and propose to make some additions and alterations, in order to obviate objections. I shall use the freedom to propose one; which, if it appears to be of any weight, you may have in your eye. I wish you had more particularly and fully proved that all kinds of sympathy are necessarily agreeable. This is the hinge of your system, and yet you only mention the matter cursorily, in p. 20. Now, it would appear that there is a disagreeable sympathy, as well as an agreeable. And, indeed, as the sympathetic passion is a reflex image of the principal, it must partake of its qualities, and be painful where that is so. Indeed, _when we converse with a man with whom we can entirely sympathize_, that is, where there is a warm and intimate friendship, the cordial openness of such a commerce overpowers the pain of a disagreeable sympathy, and renders the whole movement agreeable. But, in ordinary cases, this cannot have place. An ill-humoured fellow; a man tired and disgusted with every thing, always _ennuié_, sickly, complaining, embarrassed; such a one throws an evident damp on company, which I suppose would be accounted for by sympathy, and yet is disagreeable. It is always thought a difficult problem to account for the pleasure received from the tears, and grief, and sympathy of tragedy, which would not be the case if all sympathy was agreeable. An hospital would be a more entertaining place than a ball. I am afraid that, in p. 99, and 111, this proposition has escaped you, or, rather, is interwoven with your reasonings in that place. You say expressly, "It is painful to go along with grief, and we always enter into it with reluctance." It will probably be requisite for you to modify or explain this sentiment, and reconcile it to your system. My dear Mr. Smith, you must not be so much engrossed with your own book as never to mention mine. The Whigs, I am told, are anew in a rage against me, though they know not how to vent themselves; for they are constrained to allow all my facts. You have, probably, seen Hurd's abuse of me. He is of the Warburtonian school; and, consequently, very insolent and very scurrilous; but I shall never reply a word to him. If my past writings do not sufficiently prove me to be no Jacobite, ten volumes in folio never would.