I have this day sent Mr. Larpent two hundred pounds for your Christmas-box, of which I suppose he will inform you by this post.  Make this Christmas as merry a one as you can; for ’pour le peu du bon tems qui nous reste, rien nest si funeste, qu’un noir chagrin’.  For the new years—­God send you many, and happy ones!  Adieu.

ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: 

Always made the best of the best, and never made bad worse
American Colonies
Be neither transported nor depressed by the accidents of life
Doing, ‘de bonne grace’, what you could not help doing
every day is still but as the first
Everything has a better and a worse side
Extremely weary of this silly world
Gainer by your misfortune
I, who am not apt to know anything that I do not know
If I cared to know, you should have cared to have written
Intrinsic, and not their imaginary value
My own health varies, as usual, but never deviates into good
National honor and interest have been sacrificed to private
Neither abilities or words enough to call a coach
Neither know nor care, (when I die) for I am very weary
Never saw a froward child mended by whipping
Never to trust implicitly to the informations of others
Not make their want still worse by grieving and regretting them
Not tumble, but slide gently to the bottom of the hill of life
Nothing much worth either desiring or fearing
Often necessary to seem ignorant of what one knows
Only solid and lasting peace, between a man and his wife
Oysters, are only in season in the R months
Patience is the only way not to make bad worse
Recommends self-conversation to all authors
Return you the ball ‘a la volee’
Settled here for good, as it is called
Stamp-duty, which our Colonists absolutely refuse to pay
Thinks himself much worse than he is
To seem to have forgotten what one remembers
We shall be feared, if we do not show that we fear
Whatever one must do, one should do ‘de bonne grace’
Who takes warning by the fate of others? 
Women are all so far Machiavelians