I am by no means right yet; I am very weak and flimsy still; but the
doctor assures me that strength and spirits will return; if they do,
'lucro apponam', I will make the best of them; if they do not, I will not
make their want still worse by grieving and regretting them. I have lived
long enough, and observed enough, to estimate most things at their
intrinsic, and not their imaginary value; and, at seventy, I find nothing
much worth either desiring or fearing. But these reflections, which suit
with seventy, would be greatly premature at two-and-thirty. So make the
best of your time; enjoy the present hour, but 'memor ultimae'. God bless
you!




LETTER CCLXIV

BATH, December 18, 1763

MY DEAR FRIEND: I received your letter this morning, in which you
reproach me with not having written to you this week. The reason was,
that I did not know what to write. There is that sameness in my life
here, that EVERY DAY IS STILL BUT AS THE FIRST. I see very few people;
and, in the literal sense of the word, I hear nothing.

Mr. L------and Mr. C-----I hold to be two very ingenious men; and your
image of the two men ruined, one by losing his law-suit, and the other by
carrying it, is a very just one. To be sure, they felt in themselves
uncommon talents for business and speaking, which were to reimburse them.

Harte has a great poetical work to publish, before it be long; he has