In one sense, both burlesquers hit the weak spot in Chesterfield's _Letters_. Since his purpose is to entertain through exaggeration, a parodist is not required to be fair or to distinguish between an editor without judgment and the writer of intimate letters; so long as something can be made ludicrous, 'twill suffice. Yet essentially the burlesquers and many a critic then and since have missed what Chesterfield was writing in his letters and living in his long life. Blinded by the trivia inevitable in hundreds of letters carrying anxious parental advice, the critics have too often ignored or misinterpreted Chesterfield's passion for helping. He lavished countless hours, during the busiest part of his life, writing to his son in an effort to round out his education where it was distressingly deficient--not in strengthening it where it was strong. The pattern of trying to help is repeated: Chesterfield did his level best with his godson; he gave what was seemly to his young friend Huntingdon and likewise to Solomon Dayrolles. Five unpublished letters at Yale, to a Mr. Clements of Dublin, repeat the formula on a minor scale, the fifty-five-year-old earl laying out a plan of education for the family hopeful. Chesterfield's interest to do good shows at its best in his too little known letter to the Duke of Bedford condemning the brutal treatment of French prisoners (Dobree, VI, 2960). These all reveal something more praiseworthy in the man than the common interpretation of him. Refreshing, sophisticatedly unsophisticated, yet genuinely revealing of Lord Chesterfield's character, are a half dozen unknown couplets which almost summarize his philosophy of manners. Since his sense of humor can be questioned only by those themselves blind and deaf to humor, his dislike here for laughter should be taken for what he intends--disgust at vacuous guffaws. The society he praises has fun without attendant headaches or regrets. Surely, one could do worse than to be, with him, "innocently gay." The verses appeared in the _London Chronicle_ for May 28-30, 1776; an autograph copy, said to be dated 1761 and forming part of the Alfred Morrison collection, was sold at auction in 1918.[3] Let social mirth with gentle manners join, Unstunned by laughter--uninflamed by wine; Let Reason unimpaired exert its powers, But let gay Fancy strew its way with flowers. Far hence the Wag's and Witling's scurril jest, Whose noise and nonsense shock the decent guest; True Wit and Humour such low helps decline, Nor will the Graces owe their charms to wine. Fools fly to drink (in native dullness sunk) In vain; they're ten times greater fools when drunk.-- Thus, free from riot, innocently gay, We'll neither wish, nor fear our final day. Sidney L. Gulick San Diego State College NOTES Except for the title page of _The Fine Gentleman's Etiquette_, which comes from the University of North Carolina.