Philip Stanhope, 4th earl of Chesterfield (born September 22, 1694, London, England—died March 24, 1773, London) was a British statesman, diplomat, and wit, chiefly remembered as the author of Letters to His Son and Letters to His Godson—guides to manners, the art of pleasing, and the art of worldly success.
After a short period of study at Trinity Hall, Cambridge, he spent some time abroad, mainly in Paris. He was a great admirer of French manners, culture, and taste. He succeeded to the earldom in 1726 and became ambassador to Holland in 1728. His illegitimate son, Philip Stanhope, the recipient of the letters, was born there in 1732. Returning to England in the same year, Chesterfield took up a parliamentary career for the next decade as a strong opponent of Sir Robert Walpole. In spite of his connection by marriage to the king, he lost favour at court until he demonstrated his abilities as a statesman in his short term (August 1745–April 1746) as lord lieutenant of Ireland. After a term as secretary of state (1746–48), he gradually retired from public life because of increasing deafness, though he was largely responsible for Britain’s decision to adopt the Gregorian calendar in 1752.
Chesterfield’s winning manners, urbanity, and wit were praised by many of his leading contemporaries, and he was on familiar terms with Alexander Pope, John Gay, and Voltaire. He was the patron of many struggling authors, though one of them, Samuel Johnson, condemned him in a famous letter (1755) attacking patrons. Johnson further damaged Chesterfield’s reputation when he described the Letters as teaching “the morals of a whore, and the manners of a dancing master.” Charles Dickens later caricatured Chesterfield as Sir John Chester in Barnaby Rudge (1841). The opinion of these two more popular writers—both of whom epitomized middle-class morality—contributed to Chesterfield’s reputation as a cynical man of the world and a courtier. Defenders of Chesterfield’s letters, which were not written for publication, consider this an injustice and argue that his advice is shrewd and presented with wit and elegance. His painstaking advice, however, seemed to have little good effect: his son was described by contemporaries as “loutish,” and his godson was described by Frances Burney as having “as little good breeding as any man I ever met.”
Chesterfield left many other letters that are, by the standards of his time, models of wit and charm, especially those written to the diplomat Solomon Dayrolles, a lifelong friend who was with him at his deathbed.