I have just received the only letter from you that has given me pain. It informs me of your intention to attempt passing to England in the car of a balloon. In the present imperfect state of that invention, I think it much too soon to hazard a voyage of that distance. It is said here by some of those who have had experience, that as yet they have not found means to keep up a balloon more than two hours; for that by now and then losing air to prevent rising too high and bursting; and now and then discharging ballast to avoid descending too low; these means of regulation are exhausted. Besides this all the circumstances of danger by disappointment, in the operation of Soupape’s &c. &c. seem not to be yet well known, and therefore not easily provided against. For on Wednesday last M. Pilatre de Rosier, who had studied the subject as much as any man, lost his support in the air, by the bursting of his balloon, or by some other means we are yet unacquainted with, and fell with his companion from the height of one thousand toises, on the rocky coast, and was found dashed to pieces. You having lived a good life do not fear death. But pardon the anxious freedom of a friend, if he tells you that the continuance of your life being of importance to your family and your country, though you might laudably hazard it for their good, you have no right to risque it for a fancy. I pray God this may reach you in time and have some effect towards changing your design: being ever, my dear friend, Yours affectionately,