MY DEAR FRIEND: I received, yesterday, your letter of the 1st; in which you do not mention the state of your health, which I desire you will do for the future.
I believe you have guessed the true reason of Mr. Keith’s mission; but by a whisper that I have since heard, Keith is rather inclined to go to Turin, as ‘Charge d’Affaires’. I forgot to tell you, in my last, that I was almost positively assured that the instant you return to Dresden, Keith should decamp. I am persuaded that they will keep their words with me, as there is no one reason in the world why they should not. I will send your annual to Mr. Larpent, in a fortnight, and pay the forty shillings a-day quarterly, if there should be occasion; for, in my own private opinion, there will be no ‘Charge d’Affaires’ sent. I agree with you, that ‘point d’argent, point d’Allemand’, as was used to be said, and not without more reason, of the Swiss; but, as we have neither the inclination nor I fear the power to give subsidies, the Court of Vienna can give good things that cost them nothing, as archbishoprics, bishoprics, besides corrupting their ministers and favorite with places.
Elections here have been carried to a degree of frenzy hitherto unheard of; that for the town of Northampton has cost the contending parties at least thirty thousand pounds a side, and——————-has sold his borough of————-, to two members, for nine thousand pounds. As soon as Wilkes had lost his election for the city, he set up for the county of Middlesex, and carried it hollow, as the jockeys say. Here were great mobs and riots upon that occasion, and most of the windows in town broke, that had no lights for WILKES AND LIBERTY, who were thought to be inseparable. He will appear, the 10th of this month, in the Court of King’s Bench, to receive his sentence; and then great riots are again expected, and probably will happen. God bless you!
MY DEAR FRIEND. Your last two letters, to myself and Grevenkop, have alarmed me extremely; but I comfort myself a little, by hoping that you, like all people who suffer, think yourself worse than you are. A dropsy never comes so suddenly; and I flatter myself, that it is only that gouty or rheumatic humor, which has plagued you so long, that has occasioned the temporary swelling of your legs. Above forty years ago, after a violent fever, my legs swelled as much as you describe yours to be; I immediately thought that I had a dropsy; but the Faculty assured me, that my complaint was only the effect of my fever, and would soon be cured; and they said true. Pray let your amanuensis, whoever he may be, write an account regularly once a-week, either to Grevenkop or myself, for that is the same thing, of the state of your health.
I sent you, in four successive letters, as much of the Duchess of Somerset’s snuff as a letter could well convey to you. Have you received all or any of them? and have they done you any good? Though, in your present condition, you cannot go into company, I hope that you have some acquaintances that come and sit with you; for if originally it was not good for man to be alone, it is much worse for a sick man to be so; he thinks too much of his distemper, and magnifies it. Some men of learning among the ecclesiastics, I dare say, would be glad to sit with you; and you could give them as good as they brought.
Poor Harte, who is here still, is in a most miserable condition: he has entirely lost the use of his left 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 you and grant you a speedy recovery!
NOTE.—This is the last of the letters of Lord Chesterfield to hisson, Mr. Philip Stanhope, who died in November, 1768. Theunexpected and distressing intelligence was announced by the lady towhom Mr. Stanhope had been married for several years, unknown to hisfather. On learning that the widow had two sons, the issue of thismarriage, Lord Chesterfield took upon himself the maintenance of hisgrandchildren. The letters which follow show how happily the writeradapted himself to the trying situation.
LONDON, March 16, 1769.
MADAM: A troublesome and painful inflammation in my eyes obliges me to use another hand than my own to acknowledge the receipt of your letter from Avignon, of the 27th past.
I am extremely surprised that Mrs. du Bouchet 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.
MADAM: The last time that 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 everything 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 forward the two boys should cost you one shilling. I am, with great truth, Madam, your faithful, humble servant, CHESTERFIELD.
MADAM: As some day must be fixed for sending the boys to school, do you approve of the 8th of next month? By which time the weather will probably be warm and settled, and you will be able to equip them completely.
I will upon that day send my coach to you, to carry you and the boys to Loughborough House, with all their immense baggage. I must recommend to you, when you leave them there, to suppress, as well as you can, the overgrowings of maternal tenderness; which would grieve the poor boys the more, and give them a terror of their new establishment. I am, with great truth, Madam, your faithful, humble servant, CHESTERFIELD.
MADAM: Nobody can be more willing and ready to obey orders than I am; but then I must like the orders and the orderer. Your orders and yourself come under this description; and therefore I must give you an account of my arrival and existence, such as it is, here. I got hither last Sunday, the day after I left London, less fatigued than I expected to have been; and now crawl about this place upon my three legs, but am kept in countenance by many of my fellow-crawlers; the last part of the Sphinx’s riddle approaches, and I shall soon end, as I began, upon all fours.
When you happen to see either Monsieur or Madame Perny, I beg you will give them this melancholic proof of my caducity, and tell them that the last time I went to see the boys, I carried the Michaelmas quarterage in my pocket; and when I was there I totally forgot it; but assure them, that I have not the least intention to bilk them, and will pay them faithfully the two quarters together, at Christmas.
I hope our two boys are well, for then I am sure you are so. I am, with great truth and esteem, your most faithful, humble servant, CHESTERFIELD.
MADAM: Your kind anxiety for my health and life is more than, in my opinion, they are both worth; without the former the latter is a burden; and, indeed, I am very weary of it. I think I have got some benefit by drinking these waters, and by bathing, for my old stiff, rheumatic limbs; for, I believe, I could now outcrawl a snail, or perhaps even a tortoise.
I hope the boys are well. Phil, I dare say, has been in some scrapes; but he will get triumphantly out of them, by dint of strength and resolution. I am, with great truth and esteem, your most faithful, humble servant, CHESTERFIELD.
MADAM: I remember very well the paragraph which you quote from a letter of mine to Mrs. du Bouchet, and see no reason yet to retract that opinion, in general, which at least nineteen widows in twenty had authorized. I had not then the pleasure of your acquaintance: I had seen you but twice or thrice; and I had no reason to think that you would deviate, as you have done, from other widows, so much as to put perpetual shackles upon yourself, for the sake of your children. But (if I may use a vulgarism) one swallow makes no summer: five righteous were formerly necessary to save a city, and they could not be found; so, till I find four more such righteous widows as yourself, I shall entertain my former notions of widowhood in general.
I can assure you that I drink here very soberly and cautiously, and at the same time keep so cool a diet that I do not find the least symptom of heat, much less of inflammation. By the way, I never had that complaint, in consequence of having drank these waters; for I have had it but four times, and always in the middle of summer. Mr. Hawkins is timorous, even to minutia, and my sister delights in them.
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.
MADAM: I am extremely obliged to you for the kind part which you take in my health and life: as to the latter, I am as indifferent myself as any other body can be; but as to the former, I confess care and anxiety, for while I am to crawl upon this planet, I would willingly enjoy the health at least of an insect. How far these waters will restore me to that, moderate degree of health, which alone I aspire at, I have not yet given them a fair trial, having drank them but one week; the only difference I hitherto find is, that I sleep better than I did.
I beg that you will neither give yourself, nor Mr. Fitzhugh, much trouble about the pine plants; for as it is three years before they fruit, I might as well, at my age, plant oaks, and hope to have the advantage of their timber: however, somebody or other, God knows who, will eat them, as somebody or other will fell and sell the oaks I planted five-and-forty years ago.
I hope our boys are well; my respects to them both. I am, with the greatest truth, your faithful and humble servant, CHESTERFIELD.
MADAM: The post has been more favorable to you than I intended it should, for, upon my word, I answered your former letter the post after I had received it. However you have got a loss, as we say sometimes in Ireland.
My friends from time to time require bills of health from me in these suspicious times, when the plague is busy in some parts of Europe. All I can say, in answer to their kind inquiries, is, that I have not the distemper properly called the plague; but that I have all the plague of old age and of a shattered carcass. These waters have done me what little good I expected from them; though by no means what I could have wished, for I wished them to be ‘les eaux de Jouvence’.
I had a letter, the other day, from our two boys; Charles’ was very finely written, and Philip’s very prettily: they are perfectly well, and say that they want nothing. What grown-up people will or can say as much? I am, with the truest esteem, Madam, your most faithful servant. CHESTERFIELD.
MADAM: Upon my word, you interest yourself in the state of my existence more than I do myself; for it is worth the care of neither of us. I ordered my valet de chambre, according to your orders, to inform you of my safe arrival here; to which I can add nothing, being neither better nor worse than I was then.
I am very glad that our boys are well. Pray give them the inclosed.
I am not at all surprised at Mr.———‘s conversion, for he was, at seventeen, the idol of old women, for his gravity, devotion, and dullness. I am, Madam, your most faithful, humble servant, CHESTERFIELD.
I RECEIVED a few days ago two the best written letters that ever I 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 pores et respondre 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 Strangeways; for to be rude, 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 you, when I come to town. In the meantime, God bless you both!
CHESTERFIELD.
PG EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS:A little learning is a dangerous thingA joker is near akin to a buffoonA favor may make an enemy, and an injury may make a friendAblest man will sometimes do weak thingsAbove all things, avoid speaking of yourselfAbove the frivolous as below the important and the secretAbove trifles, he is never vehement and eager about themAbsolute command of your temperAbstain from learned ostentationAbsurd term of genteel and fashionable vicesAbsurd romances of the two last centuriesAccording as their interest prompts them to wishAcquainted with books, and an absolute stranger to menAdvice is seldom welcomeAdvise those who do not speak elegantly, not to speakAdvocate, the friend, but not the bully of virtueAffectation of singularity or superiorityAffectation in dressAffectation of businessAll have senses to be gratifiedAlways made the best of the best, and never made bad worseAlways does more than he saysAlways some favorite word for the time beingAlways look people in the face when you speak to themAm still unwell; I cannot help it!American ColoniesAncients and ModernsAnxiety for my health and lifeApplauded often, without approvingApt to make them think themselves more necessary than they areArgumentative, polemical conversationsArrogant pedantArt of pleasing is the most necessaryAs willing and as apt to be pleased as anybodyAscribing the greatest actions to the most trifling causesAssenting, but without being servile and abjectAssertion instead of argumentAssign the deepest motives for the most trifling actionsAssurance and intrepidityAt the first impulse of passion, be silent till you can be softAttacked by ridicule, and, punished with contemptAttend to the objects of your expenses, but not to the sumsAttention to the inside of booksAttention and civility please allAttentionAuthor is obscure and difficult in his own languageAuthorityAvoid cacophony, and, what is very near as bad, monotonyAvoid singularityAwkward address, ungraceful attitudes and actionsBe neither transported nor depressed by the accidents of lifeBe silent till you can be softBeing in the power of every man to hurt himBeing intelligible is now no longer the fashionBetter not to seem to understand, than to replyBetter refuse a favor gracefully, than to grant it clumsilyBlindness of the understanding is as much to be pitiedBold, but with great seeming modestyBoroughjobberBusiness must be well, not affectedly dressedBusiness now is to shine, not to weighBusiness by no means forbids pleasuresBUT OF THIS EVERY MAN WILL BELIEVE AS HE THINKS PROPERCan hardly be said to see what they seeCannot understand them, or will not desire to understand themCardinal MazarinCardinal RichelieuCardinal de RetzCardinal Virtues, by first degrading them into weaknessesCautious how we draw inferencesCease to love when you cease to be agreeableChameleon, be able to take every different hueCharacters, that never existed, are insipidly displayedCheerful in the countenance, but without laughingChitchat, useful to keep off improper and too serious subjectsChoose your pleasures for yourselfCivility, which is a disposition to accommodate and oblige othersClamorers triumphClose, without being costiveCommand of our temper, and of our countenanceCommanding with dignity, you must serve up to it with diligenceCommitting acts of hostility upon the GracesCommon sense (which, in truth, very uncommon)Commonplace observationsCompany is, in truth, a constant state of negotiationComplaisanceComplaisance to every or anybody’s opinionComplaisance due to the custom of the placeComplaisant indulgence for people’s weaknessesConceal all your learning carefullyConcealed what learning I hadConjectures pass upon us for truthsConjectures supply the defect of unattainable knowledgeConnectionsConnive at knaves, and tolerate foolsConsciousness of merit makes a man of sense more modestConsciousness and an honest pride of doing wellConsider things in the worst light, to show your skillContemptContemptContemptContent yourself with mediocrity in nothingConversationstock being a joint and common propertyConversation will help you almost as much as booksConverse with his inferiors without insolenceDance to those who pipeDarkness visibleDecides peremptorily upon every subjectDeep learning is generally tainted with pedantryDeepest learning, without goodbreeding, is unwelcomeDefended by arms, adorned by manners, and improved by lawsDeserve a little, and you shall have but a littleDesire to please, and that is the main pointDesirous of praise from the praiseworthyDesirous to make you their friendDesirous of pleasingDespairs of ever being able to payDexterity enough to conceal a truth without telling a lieDictate to them while you seem to be directed by themDifference in everything between system and practiceDifficulties seem to them, impossibilitiesDignity to be kept up in pleasures, as well as in businessDisagreeable to seem reserved, and very dangerous not to be soDisagreeable things may be done so agreeably as almost to obligeDisputes with heatDissimulation is only to hide our own cardsDistinction between simulation and dissimulationDistinguish between the useful and the curiousDo as you would be done byDo not become a virtuoso of small waresDo what you are aboutDo what you will but do something all day longDo as you would be done byDo not mistake the tinsel of Tasso for the gold of VirgilDoes not give it you, but he inflicts it upon youDoing, ‘de bonne grace’, what you could not help doingDoing what may deserve to be writtenDoing nothing, and might just as well be asleepDoing anything that will deserve to be writtenDone under concern and embarrassment, must be ill doneDress like the reasonable people of your own ageDress well, and not too wellDressed as the generality of people of fashion areEars to hear, but not sense enough to judgeEasy without negligenceEasy without too much familiarityEconomist of your timeEither do not think, or do not love to thinkElegance in one language will reproduce itself in allEmploy your whole time, which few people doEndeavor to hear, and know all opinionsEndeavors to please and oblige our fellowcreaturesEnemies as if they may one day become one’s friendsEnjoy all those advantagesEqually forbid insolent contempt, or low envy and jealousyERE TITTERING YOUTH SHALL SHOVE YOU FROM THE STAGEEstablishing a character of integrity and good mannersEven where you are sure, seem rather doubtfulEvery numerous assembly is MOBEvery virtue, has its kindred vice or weaknessEvery man knows that he understands religion and politicsEvery numerous assembly is a mobEvery man pretends to common senseEVERY DAY IS STILL BUT AS THE FIRSTEverybody is good for somethingEverything has a better and a worse sideExalt the gentle in woman and man__above the merely genteelExpresses himself with more fire than eleganceExtremely weary of this silly worldEyes and the ears are the only roads to the heartEyes and ears open and mouth mostly shutFeed him, and feed upon him at the same timeFew things which people in general know less, than how to loveFew people know how to love, or how to hateFew dare dissent from an established opinionFiddlefaddle stories, that carry no information along with themFit to live__or not live at allFlattering people behind their backsFlattery of womenFlatteryFlexibility of manners is necessary in the course of the worldFools, who can never be undeceivedFools never perceive where they are illtimedForge accusations against themselvesForgive, but not approve, the bad.Fortune stoops to the forward and the boldFrank without indiscretionFrank, but without indiscretionFrank, open, and ingenuous exterior, with a prudent interiorFrequently make friends of enemies, and enemies of friendsFriendship upon very slight acquaintanceFrivolous, idle people, whose time hangs upon their own handsFrivolous curiosity about triflesFrivolous and superficial pertnessFullbottomed wigs were contrived for his humpbackGain the heart, or you gain nothingGain the affections as well as the esteemGainer by your misfortuneGeneral conclusions from certain particular principlesGenerosity often runs into profusionGenteel without affectationGentlemen, who take such a fancy to you at first sightGentleness of manners, with firmness of mindGeography and history are very imperfect separatelyGerman, who has taken into his head that he understands FrenchGo to the bottom of thingsGood mannersGood reasons alleged are seldom the true onesGood manners are the settled medium of social lifeGood companyGoodbreedingGraces: Without us, all labor is vainGratitude not being universal, nor even commonGrave without the affectation of wisdomGreat learning; which, if not accompanied with sound judgmentGreat numbers of people met together, animate each otherGreatest fools are the greatest liarsGrow wiser when it is too lateGuard against those who make the most court to youHabit and prejudiceHabitual eloquenceHalf done or half knownHardened to the wants and distresses of mankindHardly any body good for every thingHaste and hurry are very different thingsHave no pleasures but your ownHave a will and an opinion of your own, and adhere to itHave I employed my time, or have I squandered it?Have but one set of jokes to live uponHave you learned to carve?He that is gentil doeth gentil deedsHe will find it out of himself without your endeavorsHeart has such an influence over the understandingHelps only, not as guidesHerd of mankind can hardly be said to thinkHistoriansHoliday eloquenceHome, be it ever so homelyHonest error is to be pitied, not ridiculedHonestest man loves himself bestHoraceHow troublesome an old correspondent must be to a young oneHow much you have to do; and how little time to do it inHuman nature is always the sameHurt those they love by a mistaken indulgenceI hope, I wish, I doubt, and fear alternatelyI shall never know, though all the coffeehouses here do.I shall always love you as you shall deserve.I know myself (no common piece of knowledge, let me tell you)I CANNOT DO SUCH A THINGI, who am not apt to know anything that I do not knowIdleness is only the refuge of weak mindsIf free from the guilt, be free from the suspicion, tooIf you would convince others, seem open to conviction yourselfIf I don’t mind his orders he won’t mind my draughtsIf you will persuade, you must first pleaseIf once we quarrel, I will never forgiveIgnorant of their natural rights, cherished their chainsImpertinent insult upon custom and fashionImprove yourself with the old, divert yourself with the youngInaction at your age is unpardonableInattentionInattentive, absent; and distraitInclined to be fat, but I hope you will decline itIncontinency of friendship among young fellowsIndiscriminate familiarityIndiscriminately loading their memories with every part alikeIndolenceIndolently say that they cannot doInfallibly to be gained by every sort of flatteryInformation is, in a certain degree, mortifyingInformation implies our previous ignorance; it must be sweetenedInjury is much sooner forgotten than an insultInquisitionInsinuates himself only into the esteem of foolsInsipid in his pleasures, as inefficient in everything elseInsist upon your neither piping nor fiddling yourselfInsolent civilityINTOLERATION in religious, and inhospitality in civil mattersIntrinsic, and not their imaginary valueIt is a real inconvenience to anybody to be fatIt is not sufficient to deserve well; one must please well tooJealous of being slightedJog on like man and wife; that is, seldom agreeingJudge of every man’s truth by his degree of understandingJudge them all by their merits, but not by their agesJudges from the appearances of things, and not from the realityKeep your own temper and artfully warm other people’sKeep good company, and company above yourselfKick him upstairsKing’s popularity is a better guard than their armyKnow their real value, and how much they are generally overratedKnow the true value of timeKnow, yourself and othersKnowing how much you have, and how little you wantKnowing any language imperfectlyKnowledge is like power in this respectKnowledge: either despise it, or think that they have enoughKnowledge of a scholar with the manners of a courtierKnown people pretend to vices they had notKnows what things are little, and what notLabor is the unavoidable fatigue of a necessary journeyLabor more to put them in conceit with themselvesLast beautiful varnish, which raises the colorsLaughing, I must particularly warn you against itLay down a method for everything, and stick to it inviolablyLazy mind, and the trifling, frivolous mindLearn to keep your own secretsLearn, if you can, the WHY and the WHEREFORELeave the company, at least as soon as he is wished out of itLed, much oftener by little things than by great onesLess one has to do, the less time one finds to do it inLet me see more of you in your lettersLet them quietly enjoy their errors in tasteLet nobody discover that you do know your own valueLet nothing pass till you understand itLet blockheads read what blockheads wroteLife of ignorance is not only a very contemptible, but tiresomeListlessness and indolence are always blameableLittle minds mistake little objects for great onesLittle failings and weaknessesLoud laughter is the mirth of the mobLove with him, who they think is the most in love with themLoved without being despised, and feared without being hatedLow company, most falsely and impudently, call pleasureLow buffoonery, or silly accidents, that always excite laughterLuther’s disappointed avariceMachiavelMade him believe that the world was made for himMake a great difference between companions and friendsMake himself whatever he pleases, except a good poetMake yourself necessaryMake every man I met with like me, and every woman love meMan is dishonored by not resenting an affrontMan or woman cannot resist an engaging exteriorMan of sense may be in haste, but can never be in a hurryMan who is only good on holydays is good for very littleMangles what he means to carveManner is full as important as the matterManner of doing things is often more importantManners must adorn knowledgeMany things which seem extremely probable are not trueMany are very willing, and very few ableMastery of one’s temperMay you live as long as you are fit to live, but no longer!May you rather die before you cease to be fit to liveMay not forget with ease what you have with difficulty learnedMazarin and Lewis the Fourteenth riveted the shacklesMeditation and reflectionMere reason and good sense is never to be talked to a mobMerit and goodbreeding will make their way everywhereMethodMistimes or misplaces everythingMitigating, engaging words do by no means weaken your argumentMOB: Understanding they have collectively noneModeration with your enemiesModesty is the only sure bait when you angle for praiseMoney, the cause of much mischiefMore people have ears to be tickled, than understandings to judgeMore one sees, the less one either wonders or admiresMore you know, the modester you should beMore one works, the more willing one is to workMortifying inferiority in knowledge, rank, fortuneMost people enjoy the inferiority of their best friendsMost long talkers single out some one unfortunate man in companyMost ignorant are, as usual, the boldest conjecturersMost people have ears, but few have judgment; tickle those earsMuch sooner forgive an injustice than an insultMy own health varies, as usual, but never deviates into goodMystical nonsenseName that we leave behind at one place often gets before usNational honor and interest have been sacrificed to privateNecessity of scrupulously preserving the appearancesNeglect them in little things, they will leave you in greatNegligence of it implies an indifference about pleasingNeither know nor care, (when I die) for I am very wearyNeither abilities or words enough to call a coachNeither retail nor receive scandal willinglyNever would know anything that he had not a mind to knowNever read history without having mapsNever affect the character in which you have a mind to shineNever implicitly adopt a character upon common fameNever seek for wit; if it presents itself, well and goodNever to speak of yourself at allNever slattern away one minute in idlenessNever quit a subject till you are thoroughly master of itNever maintain an argument with heat and clamorNever seem wiser, nor more learned, than the people you are withNever saw a froward child mended by whippingNever to trust implicitly to the informations of othersNipped in the budNo great regard for human testimonyNo man is distrait with the man he fears, or the woman he lovesNo one feels pleasure, who does not at the same time give itNot tumble, but slide gently to the bottom of the hill of lifeNot to communicate, prematurely, one’s hopes or one’s fearsNot only pure, but, like Caesar’s wife, unsuspectedNot make their want still worse by grieving and regretting themNot making use of any one capital letterNot to admire anything too muchNot one minute of the day in which you do nothing at allNotes by which dances are now pricked down as well as tunesNothing in courts is exactly as it appears to beNothing much worth either desiring or fearingNothing so precious as time, and so irrecoverable when lostObserve, without being thought an observerOften more necessary to conceal contempt than resentmentOften necessary, not to manifest all one feelsOften necessary to seem ignorant of what one knowsOftener led by their hearts than by their understandingsOld fellow ought to seem wise whether he really be so or notOne must often yield, in order to prevailOnly doing one thing at a timeOnly because she will not, and not because she cannotOnly solid and lasting peace, between a man and his wifeOur understandings are generally the DUPES of our heartsOur frivolous dissertations upon the weather, or upon whistOut of livery; which makes them both impertinent and uselessOutward air of modesty to all he doesOvervalue what we do not knowOysters, are only in season in the R monthsPasses for a wit, though he hath certainly no uncommon sharePatience is the only way not to make bad worsePatient toleration of certain airs of superiorityPay your own reckoning, but do not treat the whole companyPay them with compliments, but not with confidencePeople never desire all till they have gotten a great dealPeople lose a great deal of time by readingPeople will repay, and with interest too, inattentionPeople angling for praisePeople hate those who make them feel their own inferiorityPerfection of everything that is worth doing at allPerseverance has surprising effectsPerson to you whom I am very indifferent about, I mean myselfPettish, pouting conduct is a great deal too youngPetty juryPlain notions of right and wrongPlanted while young, that degree of knowledge now my refugePlease all who are worth pleasing; offend nonePleased to some degree by showing a desire to pleasePleased with him, by making them first pleased with themselvesPleasing in company is the only way of being pleased in yourselfPleasure and business with equal inattentionPleasure is necessarily reciprocalPleasure is the rock which most young people split uponPleasures do not commonly last so long as lifePocket all your knowledge with your watchPolite, but without the troublesome forms and stiffnessPOLITICIANS NEITHER LOVE NOR HATEPrefer useful to frivolous conversationsPrejudices are our mistressesPride remembers it foreverPride of being the first of the companyPrudent reservePublic speakingPut out your time, but to good interestQuarrel with them when they are grown up, for being spoiledQuietly cherished error, instead of seeking for truthRead my eyes out every day, that I may not hang myselfRead with caution and distrustReal merit of any kind will be discoveredReal friendship is a slow growerReason ought to direct the whole, but seldom doesReason, which always ought to direct mankind, seldom doesReceive them with great civility, but with great incredulityReciprocally profess wishes which they seldom formRecommend (pleasure) to you, like an EpicureanRecommends selfconversation to all authorsRefuge of people who have neither wit nor invention of their ownRefuse more gracefully than other people could grantRepeatingRepresent, but do not pronounceReserve with your friendsRespect without timidityRespectful without meanness, easy without too much familiarityReturn you the ball ‘a la volee’Rich man never borrowsRichelieu came and shackled the nationRochefoucault, who, I am afraid, paints man very exactlyRochefoucaultRough corners which mere nature has given to the smoothestRuined their own son by what they called loving himSame coolness and unconcern in any and every companyScandal: receiver is always thought, as bad as the thiefScarce any flattery is too gross for them to swallowScarcely any body who is absolutely good for nothingScrupled no means to obtain his endsSecret, without being dark and mysteriousSecretsSee what you see, and to hear what you hearSeem to like and approve of everything at firstSeeming frankness with a real reserveSeeming inattention to the person who is speaking to youSeeming openness is prudentSeems to have no opinion of his ownSeldom a misfortune to be childlessSelflove draws a thick veil between us and our faultsSentimentmongersSentiments that were never felt, pompously describedSerious without being dullSettled here for good, as it is calledShakespeareShe has all the reading that a woman should haveShe who conquers only catches a TartarShe has uncommon, sense and knowledge for a womanShepherds and ministers are both menSilence in love betrays more woeSingularity is only pardonable in old ageSix, or at most seven hours sleepSmile, where you cannot strikeSome complaisance and attention to fools is prudentSome men pass their whole time in doing nothingSomething or other is to be got out of everybodySomething must be said, but that something must be nothingSooner forgive an injury than an insultSow jealousies among one’s enemiesSpare the persons while you lash the crimesSpeaking to himself in the glassStampact has proved a most pernicious measureStampduty, which our Colonists absolutely refuse to payState your difficulties, whenever you have anySteady assurance, with seeming modestyStudied and elaborate dress of the ugliest women in the worldStyle is the dress of thoughtsSuccess turns much more upon manner than matterSure guide is, he who has often gone the road which you want toSuspicion of age, no woman, let her be ever so old, ever forgiveSwearingTacitusTake the hue of the company you are withTake characters, as they do most things, upon trustTake, rather than give, the tone of the company you are inTake nothing for granted, upon the bare authority of the authorTaking up adventitious, proves their want of intrinsic meritTalent of hating with goodbreeding and loving with prudenceTalk often, but never longTalk sillily upon a subject of other people’sTalk of natural affection is talking nonsenseTalking of either your own or other people’s domestic affairsTell me whom you live with, and I will tell you who you areTell stories very seldomThe longest life is too short for knowledgeThe present moments are the only ones we are sure ofThe best have something bad, and something littleThe worst have something good, and sometimes something greatThere are many avenues to every manThey thought I informed, because I pleased themThin veil of Modesty drawn before VanityThink to atone by zeal for their want of merit and importanceThink yourself less well than you are, in order to be quite soThinks himself much worse than he isThoroughly, not superficiallyThose who remarkably affect any one virtueThose whom you can make like themselves betterThree passions that often put honesty to most severe trialsTimidity and diffidenceTo be heard with success, you must be heard with pleasureTo be pleased one must pleaseTo govern mankind, one must not overrate themTo seem to have forgotten what one remembersTo know people’s real sentiments, I trust much more to my eyesTo great caution, you can join seeming frankness and opennessToo like, and too exact a picture of human natureTrifle only with triflers; and be serious only with the seriousTrifles that concern you are not trifles to meTrifling parts, with their little jargonTrite jokes and loud laughter reduce him to a buffoonTruth, but not the whole truth, must be the invariable principleTruth leaves no room for complimentsUnaffected silence upon that subject is the only true mediumUnguarded franknessUnintelligible to his readers, and sometimes to himselfUnopened, because one title in twenty has been omittedUnwilling and forced; it will never pleaseUse palliatives when you contradictUseful sometimes to see the things which one ought to avoidValue of moments, when cast up, is immenseVanity, interest, and absurdity, always displayVanity, that source of many of our folliesWarm and young thanks, not old and cold onesWaterdrinkers can write nothing goodWe love to be pleased better than to be informedWe have many of those useful prejudices in this countryWe shall be feared, if we do not show that we fearWell dressed, not finely dressedWhat pleases you in others, will in general please them in youWhat displeases or pleases you in othersWhat you feel pleases you in themWhat have I done today?What is impossible, and what is only difficultWhatever pleases you most in othersWhatever is worth doing at all, is worth doing wellWhatever one must do, one should do ‘de bonne grace’Whatever real merit you have, other people will discoverWhen well dressed for the day think no more of it afterwardWhere one would gain people, remember that nothing is littleWho takes warning by the fate of others?Wife, very often heard indeed, but seldom mindedWill not so much as hint at our folliesWill pay very dear for the quarrels and ambition of a fewWish you, my dear friend, as many happy new years as you deserveWit may created any admirers but makes few friendsWitty without satire or commonplaceWoman like her, who has always pleased, and often been pleasedWomen are the only refiners of the merit of menWomen choose their favorites more by the earWomen are all so far MachiaveliansWords are the dress of thoughtsWorld is taken by the outside of thingsWould not tell what she did not knowWrapped up and absorbed in their abstruse speculationsWriting anything that may deserve to be readWriting what may deserve to be readWrongs are often forgiven; but contempt never isYielded commonly without convictionYou must be respectable, if you will be respectedYou had much better hold your tongue than themYoung people are very apt to overrate both men and thingsYoung fellow ought to be wiser than he should seem to beYoung men are as apt to think themselves wise enoughYour merit and your manners can alone raise youYour character there, whatever it is, will get before you here