262 
that can attend that quality in the mind, is a defi- 
ciency in the understanding, to direct it toa proper 
end. I read more of your heart in your last, to 
engage my esteem, than you ever yet discovered ; 
nevertheless, I had seen sufficient to claim a parti- 
ality before. There are many that talk well, that 
write well, that fill an amiable character in life, and 
yet destitute of those tender sensations that vibrate 
through kindred souls, awake to every touch. There 
is a pride, which I account a folly, that prostitutes 
itself, and spreads its sails for every breath of ap- 
plause ; so that it can but catch the gale, it cares 
not from what quarter the breeze springs, favour- 
able or unfavourable, it never examines, and thereby 
misses the point, its intended goal. I conceive that, 
like myself, you have been searching through life 
for a friend,—tis a word much hackney’d, I mean 
in its strictest import,—and sometimes thought 
myself successful; but soon deceived, wearied and 
tired, I gave over the pursuit, determined to give no 
one more admittance to my heart, but with indiffe- 
rence view the world, and pass along. I have since 
found myself more at my ease, but still there re- 
mains an aching void that wants a filling, yet 
better and easier to be borne than the excruciating 
pangs of ingratitude and disappointment. 
Iam particularly sensible of your early attention. 
Mr. Marsham wonders why you should write to 
me, who did not press you for another letter, and 
omit him and Dr. Goodenough, who solicited it 
most anxiously. 
The extract I gave you relative to the compari- 
