LETTER CCCXVI

BATH, November 5, 1769.

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.

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