`My object is to have you fit to live; which, if you are not, I do not desire that you should live at all.' So wrote Lord Chesterfield in one of the most celebrated and controversial correspondences between a father and son. Chesterfield wrote almost daily to his natural son, Philip, from 1737 onwards, providing him with instruction in etiquette and the worldly arts. Praised in their day as a complete manual of education, and despised by Samuel Johnson for teaching `the morals of a whore and the manners of a dancing-master', these letters reflect the political craft of a leading statesman and the urbane wit of a man who associated with Pope, Addison, and Swift. The letters reveal Chesterfield's political cynicism and his belief that his country had `always been goverened by the only two or three people, out of two or three millions, totally incapable of governing', as well as his views on good breeding. Not originally intended for publication, this entertaining correspondence illuminates fascinating aspects of eighteenth-century life and manners. ABOUT THE SERIES: For over 100 years Oxford World's Classics has made available the widest range of literature from around the globe. Each affordable volume reflects Oxford's commitment to scholarship, providing the most accurate text plus a wealth of other valuable features, including expert introductions by leading authorities, helpful notes to clarify the text, up-to-date bibliographies for further study, and much more.

"Among the funniest [letters] ever dispatched in the vain hope of steering a black sheep onto something like the straight and narrow." —The Wall Street Journal Nostalgic, witty, and original, Dear Lupin by Roger Mortimer and Charlie Mortimer tracks the entire correspondence between a father and his only son. When the book begins, Charlie, the son, is studying at Eton, although the studying itself is not a priority, much to his father's chagrin. After Charlie graduates and moves from South America to Africa and eventually back to London, Roger continues to write regularly, offering advice (which is rarely heeded) as well as humorous updates from home ("Your mother has had the flu. Her little plan to give up spirits for Lent lasted three and a half days"). Roger's letters range from reproachful ("You may think it mildly amusing to be caught poaching in the park; I would consider it more hilarious if you were not living on the knife edge") to resigned ("I am very fond of you, but you do drive me round the bend"), but his correspondence is always filled with warmth, humor, and wisdom that offers unique insight into the relationship between father and son.