r it is a bad style, of a new and singular kind; it is full of
Latinisms, Gallicisms, Germanisms, and all isms but Anglicisms; in some
places pompous, in others vulgar and low. Surely, before the end of the
world, people, and you in particular, will discover that the MANNER, in
everything, is at least as important as the matter; and that the latter
never can please, without a good degree of elegance in the former. This
holds true in everything in life: in writing, conversing, business, the
help of the Graces is absolutely necessary; and whoever vainly thinks
himself above them, will find he is mistaken when it will be too late to
court them, for they will not come to strangers of an advanced age. There
is an history lately come out, of the "Reign of Mary Queen of Scots" and
her son (no matter by whom) King James, written by one Robertson, a
Scotchman, which for clearness, purity, and dignity of style, I will not
scruple to compare with the best historians extant, not excepting Davila,
Guicciardini, and perhaps Livy. Its success has consequently been great,
and a second edition is already published and bought up. I take it for
granted, that it is to be had, or at least borrowed, at Hamburg, or I
would send it to you.

I hope you drink the Pyrmont waters every morning. The health of the mind
depends so much upon the health of the body, that the latter deserves the
utmost attention, independently of the senses. God send you a very great
share of both! Adieu.

LETTER CCXLIII

LONDON, April 27, 1759

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
th