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<h2> LETTER CCXLIII </h2>
<h3> LONDON, April 27, 1759 </h3>
<p>MY DEAR FRIEND: I have received your two letters of the 10th and 13th, by
the last mail; and I will begin my answer to them, by observing to you
that a wise man, without being a Stoic, considers, in all misfortunes that
befall him, their best as well as their worst side; and everything has a
better and a worse side. I have strictly observed that rule for many
years, and have found by experience that some comfort is to be extracted,
under most moral ills, by considering them in every light, instead of
dwelling, as people are too apt to do, upon the gloomy side of the object.
Thank God, the disappointment that you so pathetically groan under, is not
a calamity which admits of no consolation. Let us simplify it, and see
what it amounts to. You are pleased with the expectation of coming here
next month, to see those who would have been pleased with seeing you.
That, from very natural causes, cannot be, and you must pass this summer
at Hamburg, and next winter in England, instead of passing this summer in
England, and next winter at Hamburg. Now, estimating things fairly, is not
the change rather to your advantage? Is not the summer more eligible, both
for health and pleasure, than the winter, in that northern frozen zone?
And will not the winter in England supply you with more pleasures than the
summer, in an empty capital, could have done? So far then it appears, that
you are rather a gainer by your misfortune.</p>
<p>The TOUR too, which you propose making to Lubeck, Altena, etc., will both
amuse and inform you; for, at your age, one cannot see too many different
places and people; since at the age you are now of, I take it for granted
that you will not see them superficially, as you did when you first went
abroad.</p>
<p>This whole matter then, summed up, amounts to no more than this—that
you will be here next winter, instead of this summer. Do not think that
all I have said is the consolation only of an old philosophical fellow,
almost insensible of pleasure or pain, offered to a young fellow who has
quick sensations of both. No, it is the rational philosophy taught me by
experience and knowledge of the world, and which I have practiced above
thirty years.</p>
<p>I always made the best of the best, and never made bad worse by fretting;
this enabled me to go through the various scenes of life in which I have
been an actor, with more pleasure and less pain than most people. You will
say, perhaps, one cannot change one's nature; and that if a person is born
of a very sensible, gloomy temper, and apt to see things in the worst
light, they cannot help it, nor new-make themselves. I will admit it, to a
certain degree; and but to a certain degree; for though we cannot totally
change our nature, we may in a great measure correct it, by reflection and
philosophy; and some philosophy is a very necessary companion in this
world, where, even to the most fortunate, the chances are greatly against
happiness.</p>
<p>I am not old enough, nor tenacious enough, to pretend not to understand
the main purport of your last letter; and to show you that I do, you may
draw upon me for two hundred pounds, which, I hope, will more than clear
you.</p>
<p>Good-night: 'aquam memento rebus in arduis servare mentem': Be neither
transported nor depressed by the accidents of life.</p>
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<h2> LETTER CCXLIV </h2>
<h3> BLACKHEATH, May 16, 1759 </h3>
<p>MY DEAR FRIEND: Your secretary's last letter of the 4th, which I received
yesterday, has quieted my fears a good deal, but has not entirely
dissipated them. YOUR FEVER STILL CONTINUES, he says, THOUGH IN A LESS
DEGREE. Is it a continued fever, or an intermitting one? If the former, no
wonder that you are weak, and that your head aches. If the latter, why has
not the bark, in substance and large doses, been administered? for if it
had, it must have stopped it by this time. Next post, I hope, will set me
quite at ease. Surely you have not been so regular as you ought, either in
your medicines or in your general regimen, otherwise this fever would not
have returned; for the Doctor calls it, YOUR FEVER RETURNED, as if you had
an exclusive patent for it. You have now had illnesses enough, to know the
value of health, and to make you implicitly follow the prescriptions of
your physician in medicines, and the rules of your own common sense in
diet; in which, I can assure you, from my own experience, that quantity is
often worse than quality; and I would rather eat half a pound of bacon at
a meal, than two pounds of any the most wholesome food.</p>
<p>I have been settled here near a week, to my great satisfaction; 'c'est ma
place', and I know it, which is not given to everybody. Cut off from
social life by my deafness, as well as other physical ills, and being at
best but the ghost of my former self, I walk here in silence and solitude
as becomes a ghost: with this only difference, that I walk by day,
whereas, you know, to be sure, that other ghosts only appear by night. My
health, however, is better than it was last year, thanks to my almost
total milk diet. This enables me to vary my solitary amusements, and
alternately to scribble as well as read, which I could not do last year.
Thus I saunter away the remainder, be it more or less, of an agitated and
active life, now reduced (and I am not sure that I am a loser by the
change) to so quiet and serene a one, that it may properly be called still
life.</p>
<p>The French whisper in confidence, in order that it may be the more known
and the more credited, that they intend to invade us this year, in no less
than three places; that is England, Scotland, and Ireland. Some of our
great men, like the devils, believe and tremble; others, and one little
one whom I know, laugh at it; and, in general, it seems to be but a poor,
instead of a formidable scarecrow. While somebody was at the head of a
moderate army, and wanted (I know why) to be at the head of a great one,
intended invasions were made an article of political faith; and the belief
of them was required, as in the Church the belief of some absurdities, and
even impossibilities, is required upon pain of heresy, excommunication,
and consequently damnation, if they tend to the power and interest of the
heads of the Church. But now that there is a general toleration, and that
the best subjects, as well as the best Christians, may believe what their
reasons find their consciences suggest, it is generally and rationally
supposed the French will threaten and not strike, since we are so well
prepared, both by armies and fleets, to receive and, I may add, to destroy
them. Adieu! God bless you.</p>
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