From Paris.

Ihave just experienced a very great pleasure, my dear child. A Tragedy of Porphyry's has been performed this evening for the first time; and it has had, as it truly deserved, the most brilliant success. It did not require the advantages of being well acted, or the addition of beautiful scenes; it will bear reading, and will confirm the good opinion the first representation of it has given. Porphyry has learnt by this the advantages which an Author derives from bearing an excellent character. He is certain before-hand of having the good-will of the Public, and that there will be no cabal against him. He has only written valuable Works. He has never taken notice of the criticisms which have been made by the envious and severe, and he does not pride himself on his moderation. We generally atrribute great merit to people who have a number of enemies. The reason is, because we see so many persons boasting of being hated, and repeating frequently, with such emphasis, my enemies, which in fact means my rivals. Porphyry is privately much afflicted at having gained enemies; but, so far from being proud of them, he has not even made a single complaint against them, which has much softened them. Incapable of envy or resentment, he can forgive their injustice, and finds a noble pleasure in extolling his rivals. He has always been intimately connected with the most celebrated men of letters; he was at all times desirous of their friendship and advice, and took every possible opportunity to oblige them. He thinks with La Bruyere, who says, ‘Come in; all my doors are open to you … Come always without ceremony; you bring with you that which is more precious than silver or gold: if I can oblige you, tell me so. What is there I can do for you? If it is to quit my books, my studies, my works, even this line which I have begun? What a pleasing interruption for me to be useful to you! &c.’ … With such an obliging disposition, can any one be more capable of gratitude? If you solicit a favour for him and succeed, he will be infinitely obliged; if you are not successful, he will not be less grateful.