sufficient to bear universal admiration; and when that is derived from beauty alone, there is scarce a young person who thinks it neccessary to attain any other qualification or accomplishment, that does not tend to the embellishment of their charms. I HAVE observed through life, that we seldom meet with an agreeable man or woman, who have been remarkably handsome. But perhaps, this may be philosophically accounted for.—As Providence acts by the simplest means, and beauty is alone sufficient to procure the love and admiration of mankind, great qualities would be unnecessary to the purpose, and perhaps bar the original design; for we should be more apt to fear than love a human being, that we considered as absolutely perfect. I THEREFORE think with Milton, that where there 'is bestowed too much of ornament, in outward shew elaborate, the inward's less exact;' which may be a kind of consolation to those, whom nature has dealt her personal favours to, with a scanty hand. IN the country where I am at present, neither youth or beauty are of much value. The grandmother and grand daughter are pretty much upon the same footing.—What little difference there may be is generally in the dowager's favour; as she may probably be possessed of more knowledge and experience and a better fortune.—No woman is ever young or old at Paris; for the same paint that fills up the furrows of the aged cheek, hides the soft down upon the youthful one. YOU see that a word to the wise is enough, and that I have followed your plan of philosophizing, upon different subjects, to avoid recurring to painful ones.—I must however acquaint you, that I am to attend Charlotte to Paris, in three days. She has insisted on my returning to England, as soon as she enters the cloister; and I have consented, on her promising to meet me here next spring, provided the general be then living. THE poor old man has insisted on captain Beaumont's quitting the army, and taking possession of his fortune, except a small annuity, which he reserves for charitable uses. He has behaved nobly to monsieur and madame de Carignon, and presented twenty thousand crowns to the convent of St. Anthony, as a reward for their kindnesses to his beloved Charlotte. You would pitty him sincerely, if you were to behold his distress at the idea of parting with his favourite child; but " What are, alas! his woes compared to mine!" Paris. I HAVE once more bid adieu to my dear Charlotte.—But painful as the hour of