MAXIMS. My dear friend,-I never think my time so well employed, as when I think it employed to your advantage. In that view, I have thrown together, for your use, the enclosed maxims *; or, to speak more properly, observations of men and things; for I have no merit as to the invention; I am no systemmonger; and, instead of giving way to my imagination, I have only consulted my memory; and my conclusions are all drawn from facts, not from fancy. Most maxim-mongers have preferred the prettiness to the justness of a thought, and the turn to the truth; but I have refused myself to every thing that my own experience did not justify and confirm. [Jan. 15, 1753.]

A WET SUMMER.-There never was so wet a summer as this has been, in the memory of man; we have not had one single day, since March, without some rain; but most days a great deal. I hope that does not affect your health, as great cold does; for, with all these inundations, it has not been cold. God bless you! [Aug. 1, 1766.]

THE LAST GREETING.-Poor Harte is in a miserable condition, is paralyzed in his left

* See "Maxims,” p. 302.

side, and can hardly speak intelligibly. I was with him yesterday. He inquired after you with great affection, and was in the utmost concern when I showed him your letter.

My own health is, as it has been ever since I was here last year. I am neither well nor ill, but unwell. I have, in a manner, lost the use of my legs; for though I can make a shift to crawl upon even ground for a quarter of an hour, I cannot go up or down stairs, unless supported by a servant.

God bless and grant you a speedy recovery! [Oct. 17, 1768.]

Here end the letters to Mr. Stanhope, as he died the 16th of November following.

of

To Mrs. Stanhope, then at Paris.

MADAM :-A troublesome and painful inflam、 mation in my eyes obliges me to use another hand than my own to acknowledge the receipt your letter from Avignon, of the 27th past. I am extremely surprised that Mrs. du Bou, chet should have any objection to the manner in which your late husband desired to be buried, and which you, very properly, complied with. All I desire for my own burial is not to be buried alive; but how or where, I think, must be entirely indifferent to every rational

creature.

I have no commission to trouble you with during your stay at Paris, from whence I wish you and the boys a good journey home, where I shall be very glad to see you all, and assure you of my being, with great truth, your faithful, humble servant, CHESTERFIELD. [March 16, 1769.]

To the same, at London.

MADAM :-The last time I had the pleasure of seeing you I was so taken up in playing with the boys that I forgot their more important affairs. How soon would you have them placed at school? When I know your pleasure as to that, I will send to Monsieur Perny to prepare every thing for their reception. In the meantime, I beg that you will equip them thoroughly with clothes, linen, etc., all good, but plain, and give me the account, which I will pay, for I do not intend that from this time forwards, the two boys should cost you one shilling. I am, with great truth, madam, your faithful, humble servant, CHESTERFIELD. [Wednesday.]

STANHOPE'S CHILDREN.-Charles will be a scholar, if you please, but our little Philip, without being one, will be something or other as good, though I do not yet guess what. I am not of the opinion generally entertained in this

country, that man lives by Greek and Latin alone; that is, by knowing a great many words of two dead languages, which nobody living knows perfectly, and which are of no use in the common intercourse of life. Useful knowledge, in my opinion, consists of modern languages, history, and geography; some Latin may be thrown into the bargain, in compliance with custom, and for closet amusement.

You are by this time certainly tired with this long letter, which I could prove to you from Horace's own words (for I am a scholar) to be a bad one; he says that water drinkers can write nothing good, so I am, with real truth and esteem, your most faithful, humble servant, CHESTERFIELD. [Nov. 4, 1770.]

To Charles and Philip Stanhope.

THE LAST LETTER.—I received, a few days ago, two, the best-written letters that I ever saw in my life; the one signed Charles Stanhope, the other Philip Stanhope. As for you, Charles, I did not wonder at it; for you will take pains, and are a lover of letters: but you idle rogue, you Phil, how came you to write so well, that one can almost say of you two, et cantare pares et respondere parati? Charles will explain this Latin to you.

I am told, Phil, that you have got a nickname

at school, from your intimacy with Master Strangeways; and that they call you Master Strangerways; for, to be sure, you are a strange boy. Is this true?

Tell me what you would have me bring you both from hence, and I will bring it to you when I come to town. In the meantime, God bless you both!-CHESTERFIELD. [Bath, October 27, 1771.]

MAXIMS.*

A

PROPER secrecy is the only mystery of able men; mystery is the only secrecy of weak and cunning ones.

A man who tells nothing, or who tells all, will equally have nothing told him.

If a fool knows a secret, he tells it because he is a fool; if a knave knows one, he tells it wherever it is his interest to tell it. But women and young men are very apt to tell what secrets they know, from the vanity of having been trusted. Trust none of these, whenever you can help it.

Inattention to the present business, be it what it will; the doing one thing, and thinking at the same time of another, or the attempting to

*These maxims are referred to page 298.