GIFT OF 
 JANE K.SATHER 
 

 . LETTERS 
 
 OF 
 
 J O H tf R AW D O TL P H, 
 
 A YOUNG RELATIVE; 
 
 EMBRACING A. SERIES OF YEARS, 
 
 FHOM 
 
 EARLY YOUTH, TO MATURE MANHOOD, 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 
 CAREY, L.EA & BLANCH ARU 
 
 1834. 
 
ENTERED, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1834, by CARET, 
 LEA & BLANCHARD, in the District Court for the Eastern District of Peniv 
 sylvania. 
 
 - 
 
 f.niGfJS & CO., PRINTERS. 
 
NOTICE TO THE READER. 
 
 THE following letters have been selected, from 
 among several hundred, as most fit for publication. 
 
 The sentiment of filial devotion towards the author, 
 which, for many years, constituted a large portion of 
 my moral existence, together with the want of criti 
 cal acumen, may so far mislead the judgment, as to 
 make me overrate the merit of these letters. Be that 
 as it may, I shall make no apology for giving them to 
 the public : neither have they a right to require, nor 
 shall they receive, any explanation of motives, that 
 may be personal to myself, in making the publica 
 tion. 
 
 Suffice it to say, that, I think, they will do credit 
 to American literature; and add something to the 
 fame of a man, who long held a distinguished rank 
 among American orators, and statesmen; and whose 
 genius has added not a little to his country s glory. 
 
LETTERS 
 
 op 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 Georgetown, Jan. 31, 1806. 
 Mr DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I SEND you by the New Orleans mail, " letters writ 
 ten by the great Mr. Pitt, afterwards Earl of Chatham, to 
 his nephew, when at 1 college. You know my opinion of 
 Lord Chatham: that he was at once the greatest practical 
 statesman that ever lived, and the most transcendent orator. 
 With all this, he was a truly good man, (indeed, he must 
 have been, since virtue is essential to great excellence in 
 laudable pursuits^ and the most elegant and polished gen 
 tleman of his time. 
 
 When I speak of a practical statesman, I wish you 
 to understand me. A man may possess great theoretic 
 knowledge on any subject, and yet be a poor practitioner. 
 To take an example from the profession which you seem to 
 have chosen, in preference to any other, a man might have 
 all the best medical authors by heart, know the treatment 
 which is considered to be most judicious for every disease, 
 and the properties of every medicine, so as, in conversation, 
 
 2 
 
10 LETTERS OF 
 
 to vie with any, and to outshine the greater part of his pro 
 fession, and yet be so deficient in practice, as, when brought 
 to a patient, to be unable to tell what his disease was, and, of 
 course, how it was to have been treated, whether the pulse 
 indicated depletion or stimulants. Such is the difference 
 between theory and practice; one is disease on paper, where 
 all goes smoothly, and the patient infallibly recovers: the 
 other is disease in the subject of malady, in man himself, 
 where symptoms are complicated, and the various conside 
 rations of age, sex, and condition, in the patient, baffle the 
 most skilful, and dismay the most experienced where the 
 patient dies. 
 
 I fear, from the shortness of your letter, from the in 
 correctness of its orthography and syntax, and from the 
 omission of some material words, that want of paper was 
 not your ONLY cause for omitting to write the week before 
 last. Enclosed you have someVhing to obviate that objec 
 tion. 
 
 " There is only 20 more to carry down*" 
 
 Note. A verb DOES NOT agree with its nominative 
 IN number and person. 
 
 " Plowing " which in the preceding line you have 
 spelt correctly. 
 
 " No accidents has befallen." A verb does not, &c. 
 
 " The reason that I did not (the word write omitted) 
 last week, was, &c." No attention to points, at all. 
 
 Number of lines in your letter, nine, 
 
 errors four;* 
 
 Surely you cannot have read over, once what you wrote. 
 Moreover, the hand is a very bad one; many words blotted, 
 and every part of it betrays negligence and a carelessness of 
 excelling a most deplorable symptom in a young man. 
 
 Is Dr. Robinson in Farmville, and is he likely to remain 
 there? Would you prefer being at Hamp. Sid. Coll. to stay- 
 
 * Besides omitting the year 1806. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. H 
 
 ing at Bizarre? i am very uneasy about you, my dear boy. 
 In your letters I see no trace of your studies no mention 
 made of Ovid or Homer nothing as to your manner of dis 
 posing of your time. As soon as I am well enough, I shall 
 set off for Bizarre. God bless you. 
 
 Your affectionate friend 
 and relation, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 What has become of the journal that I directed you to 
 keep? 
 
 Have you ever received the two banks notes that I sent 
 you. 
 
 Do not imitate your father s handwriting it is a running 
 hand, unfit for you at present. You must learn to write 
 distinctly first, as children learn to read, letter by letter, 
 syllable by syllable, word by word. The first page of this 
 letter is a very good copy for you particularly the date* 
 
 LETTER IL 
 
 Georgetown, Feb. 2, 1806. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I WROTE to you, yesterday, by the New Orleans 
 mail, and, through mistake, dated my letter in January. I 
 would have you, my clear boy, consider the little book, 
 which I sent at the same time, as coming from my head and 
 heart, and addressed to your own. Our situation, and that of 
 its writer and his nephew, are not dissimilar. Let us, then, 
 profit by their example. Whilst I endeavour to avail my 
 self of the wisdom and experience of the one, do you also 
 strive to imitate the amiable docility of the other; and so 
 may God bless you, my dear boy. 
 
12 LETTERS OF 
 
 Above all things abstain from going, on any occasion, to 
 Farmville, when you can possibly avoid it. You can meet 
 no company there, from whom you can derive improvement 
 of any sort; but much of an opposite description. Tell 
 Sam, that I rely upon him. Endeavour to prevent the 
 wood from being pillaged, and ask Mr. Johnston to assist 
 you. Keep a watch upon all trespassers, and threaten them, 
 in my name/ with a prosecution when I return: not that I 
 mean seriously to go to law, (which I detest,) about a few 
 tiers of wood; but, situated as the estate is, it is too much 
 exposed to real injury from such marauders, to submit qui 
 etly to their inroads. 
 
 As soon as I get better, I shall set out for Bizarre. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 J. R. 
 
 How do you come on with Ovid and Hume? 
 
 Who is the greatest man that you have met with in Eng 
 lish history? (I ll answer for it, he proves the most virtu 
 ous:) and why do you think him so great? 
 
 Who is the worst man? 
 
 The most learned? 
 
 I shall bring home some good maps of our own country. 
 
 Since Thursday, the 23d of January, (inclusive,) we have 
 had mild warm weather, with rain and frost. What might 
 be called May weather. You promised to keep an account 
 of the weather at Bizarre, but your little scraps of letters con 
 tain nothing relating to it. By this time, the ploughs ought 
 to have finished the low-ground field next C. Allen s, when 
 they must begin on the opposite low-ground field, next B. 
 Allen s, on this side of the R. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 13 
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 Georgetown, Saturday, Feb, 15, 1800. 
 
 Mr DEAR BOY, 
 
 AFTER I had gone to bed last night, and lay tumbling 
 and tossing about, uneasy and unable to rest, my thoughts 
 running upon many an anxious subject, among which you 
 were not forgotten, I was relieved by the entrance of a ser 
 vant, who handed me your letter of the 9th, with some others. 
 But that relief was only temporary. My mind fixed itself 
 on your situation for the remainder of the night, and I have 
 determined to settle you at school at Winchester, unless (of 
 which I have no expectation) I shall find Hampden Sidney 
 very greatly altered for the better. At your time of life, my 
 son, I was even more inelegtbly placed than you are, and 
 would have given worlds for quiet seclusion and books. I 
 never had either. You will smile when I tell you that the 
 first map that I almost ever saw was one of Virginia, when 
 I was nearly fifteen; and that I never (until the age of man 
 hood) possessed any treatise on geography, other than an ob 
 solete Gazetteer of Salmon, and my sole atlas were the five 
 maps, if you will honour them with that name, contained in 
 the Gazetteer, each not quite so big as this page, of the three 
 great eastern divisions, and two western ones, of the earth. 
 The best and only Latin dictionary that I ever owned, you 
 now4iave. I had a small Greek lexicon, bought with my own 
 pocket money, and many other books, acquired in the same 
 way, (from 16 to 20 years of age;) but these were merely 
 books of amusement. I never was with any preceptor, one 
 only excepted, (and he left the school after I had been there 
 about two months,) who would deserve to be called a Latin 
 or Greek scholar; and I never had any master of modern lan 
 guages, but an old Frenchman, (some gentleman valet, I sup 
 pose,) who could neither write nor spell. 
 
 I mention these things, my child, that you may not be dis 
 heartened. Tis true, that I am a very ignorant man, for one 
 
14 LETTERS OF 
 
 who is thought to have received a learned education. You 
 (I hope) will acquire more information, and digest it better. 
 There is an old proverb, " You cannot teach an old dog new 
 tricks." Yours is the time of life to acquire knowledge. 
 Hereafter you must use it; like the young, sturdy labourer, 
 who lays up, whilst he is fresh and vigorous, provision for 
 his declining age. 
 
 When I asked whether you had received the bank notes I 
 sent you, I did not mean to inquire how you had laid them 
 out. Don t you see the difference? From your not men 
 tioning that they had come to hand, (a careless omission; you 
 should break yourself of this habit,) and your cousin inform 
 ing me that she had not received two packets sent by the same 
 mail, I concluded that the notes were probably lost or em 
 bezzled. Hence my inquiry after them. No, my son; what 
 ever cash I send you (unless for some special purpose) is 
 yours: you will spend it as you please, and I have nothing to 
 say to it. That you will not employ it in a manner that you 
 ought to be ashamed of, I have the fullest confidence. To 
 pry into such affairs would not only betray a want of that 
 confidence, and even a suspicion discreditable to us both, but 
 infringe upon your rights and independence. For, although 
 you are not of an age to be your own master, and independent 
 in all your actions, yet you are possessed of rights which it 
 would be tyranny and injustice to withhold, or invade. In 
 deed, this independence, which is so much vaunted, and which 
 young people think consists in doing what they please, when 
 they grow up to man s estate, (with as much justice as the 
 poor negro thinks liberty consists in being supported in idle 
 ness, by other people s labour,) this independence is but a 
 name. Place us where you will, along with our rights 
 there must coexist correlative duties, and the more exalted 
 the station, the more arduous are these last. Indeed, as the 
 duty is precisely correspondent to the power, it follows that 
 the richer, the wiser, the more powerful a man is, the greater 
 is the obligation upon him to employ his gifts in lessening 
 the sum of human misery; and this employment constitutes 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 15 
 
 happiness, which the weak and wicked vainly imagine to con 
 sist in wealth, finery, or sensual gratification. Who so mi 
 serable as the bad Emperor of Rome? Who more happy than 
 Trajan and Antoninus? Look at the fretful, peevish, rich 
 man, whose senses are as much jaded by attempting to em 
 brace too much gratification, as the limbs of the poor post 
 horse are by incessant labour. [See the Gentlemen and 
 Basket-makers, and, indeed, the whole of Sandford and Mer 
 lon.] 
 
 Do not, however, undervalue, on that account, the charac 
 ter of the real gentleman, which is the most respectable __ 
 amongst men. It consists not of plate, and equipage, and rich 
 living, any more than in the disease which that mode of life 
 engenders; but in truth, courtesy, bravery, generosity, and 
 learning, which last, although not essential to it, yet does 
 very much to adorn and illustrate the character of the true 
 gentleman. Tommy Merton s gentlemen were no gentle 
 men, except in the acceptation of innkeepers, (and the great 
 vulgar, as well as the small,) with whom he who rides in a 
 coach and six, is three times as great a gentleman as he who 
 drives a post-chaise and pair. Lay down this as a prin 
 ciple, that truth is to the other virtues, what vital air is to 
 the human system. They cannot exist at all without it; and 
 as the body may live under many diseases, if supplied with 
 pure air for its consumption, so may the character survive 
 many defects, where there is a rigid attachment to truth. 
 All equivocation and subterfuge belong to falsehood, which 
 consists, not in using false words only, but in conveying false 
 impressions, no matter how; and if a person deceive himself r 
 and I, by my silence, suffer him to remain in that error, I am 
 implicated in the deception, unless he be one who has no right 
 to rely upon me for information, and, in that case, tis plain, 
 I could not be instrumental in deceiving him. 
 
 I send you two letters, addressed to myself, whilst at 
 school of which I NOW sorely repent me I did not THEN 
 avail myself, (so far, at least, as my very ineligible situation 
 would admit.) Will you accept a little of my experience, 
 
16 LETTERS OF 
 
 instead of buying some of your own at a very dear rate? 
 and so, God bless you, my son. 
 
 Your affectionate uncle, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 P. S. In consideration of my being surrounded with com 
 pany, and having, at the same time, a horrible headach, ex 
 cuse this scratch. 
 
 I shall send you Walker s Dictionary, for pronouncing the 
 English language. Among other vulgarisms, I hope it will 
 break you and Buona of saying horrubble, sensubble, indo- 
 lunce, for horrible, sensible, indolence, &c. You will soon 
 get over this, by accustoming yourself to say horri, sensi, (as 
 if spelled horry, &c.,) dividing the word, and then adding the 
 final syllable (ble.) You know I ve long been contending 
 against this barbarism, which deforms the pronunciation of 
 Virginia. 
 
 "Mah," instead of my, pronounced sometimes mie, and, 
 at others, me, the e short, as bring me my hat. 
 
 Famully family. 
 
 Possubul possible, &c. &c. 
 
 Vigilunt vigilant, &c. &c. 
 
 Another omission: 
 
 You say nothing of Duchess, or the other mares and 
 the foals. Are they with foal ? (or, as the sportsmen say, 
 "in foal?") 
 
 When you write, have my letter before you, and (after tell 
 ing me every thing that suggests itself to your mind) exa 
 mine and reply to the points it contains. 
 
 Copy the enclosed letters, and take special care of the ori 
 ginals. I am glad that you have read Lord Chatham s let 
 ters, and yet more, that you are pleased with them. They 
 will bear, and, I hope, receive, repeated readings. 
 
 Enclosed are ten dollars, United States Bank, payable at 
 Washington, No. 7045, E. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 17 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 Georgetown, Saturday, March 1, 1806. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter has relieved me from great uneasiness 
 as I got none from you last week, and was afraid that you 
 were sick, or that some accident had befallen you. Why, 
 my dear boy, did this happen? and why will you, through 
 carelessness, expose those who love you to suffer on your ac 
 count? I would not write myself, hoping that my silence 
 would be a more forcible admonition than any I could de 
 vise. 
 
 Your letter is not a bad one, although it has some errors 
 in it; it might have been more correct, yet worse. Do not, 
 however, undervalue correctness; for, although mere free 
 dom from defect does not constitute excellence, which is in 
 itself a positive quality, yet great defects deform the great 
 est excellence. 
 
 We do not say " from there" but " from thence." The 
 present participle of the verb " to put," is spelled with a 
 double t, "puling," and not "pu/ing." The word plough 
 (in every sense of it) is spelled with " ugh" and not a " w" 
 as you have it, "plowing." I have much fault to find with 
 the handwriting of your letter: it is hurried, confused, in 
 short, a mere scratch, indistinct, and hardly legible; where 
 I am obliged to guess at the letters; and, from the mode of 
 writing and folding up in a hurry, before the ink had dried, 
 much blotted. Take my advice, my son, and do not at 
 tempt a running hand yet. The way to acquire a good run 
 ning hand, is to begin with a fair, large, clean-cut, and 
 distinct character. Children always learn to stand alone, 
 and to walk, step by step, before they run. There is ano 
 ther excellent rule, which, if you now adhere to it, will be 
 of great service to you through life: " make haste slowly." 
 Hurry always occasions blunder and delay. When, there 
 fore, you make any mistake, or blot, write all over again, 
 
 3 
 
18 LETTERS OF 
 
 fairly. The labour of doing this will make you careful and 
 correct; and, when the habit is formed, the trouble is over. 
 Habit is truly called " second nature." To form good ha 
 bits is almost as easy as to fall into bad. What is the diffe 
 rence between an industrious, sober man and an idle drunk 
 en one, but their respective habits? Tis just as easy for 
 Mr. Harrison to be temperate and active, as tis for poor 
 Knowles to be the reverse; with this great difference, that, 
 exclusively of the effects of their respective courses of life on* 
 their respectability and fortunes, the exercises of the one are 
 followed by health, pleasure, and peace of mind, whilst 
 those of the other engender disease, pain, and discontent 
 to say nothing of poverty in its most hideous shape, want,, 
 squalid misery, and the contempt of the world, contrasted 
 with affluent plenty, a smiling family, and the esteem of all 
 good men. Perhaps you cannot believe that there exists a 
 being who would hesitate which of these two lots to choose. 
 Alas! my son, vice puts on such alluring shapes, indolence 
 is so seducing, that, (like the flies in ./Esop,) we revel whilst 
 the sun shines, and for a few hours temporary pleasure pay 
 the price of perishing miserably in the winter of our old 
 age. The industrious ants are wiser. By a little forbear 
 ance at the moment, by setting a just value on the future? 
 and disregarding present temptation, they secure an honour- 
 able and comfortable asylum. All nature, my son, is a vo 
 lume, speaking comfort and offering instruction to the good 
 and wise. But the fool saith in his heart, There is no God:" 
 he shuts his eyes to the great book of Nature that lies open 
 before him. Your fate, my dear Theodorick, is in your 
 awn hands. Like Hercules, every young man has his choice 
 between pleasure, falsely so called, and infamy, or labori 
 ous virtue and a fair fame. In old age, indeed long before, 
 we begin to feel the folly, or wisdom, of our selection. I 
 confidently trust that you, my son, will choose wisely. In 
 seven years from this time, you will repent, or rejoice, at 
 the disposition which you make of the present hour, 
 affectionate uncle, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 p. S. We don t say " I only go there of post-days," but 
 on post-days. - / , 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 Friday, March 21, 1806. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter (the first that I have received for three 
 posts) has relieved me from very great concern and uneasi 
 ness on your account. Your reason for failing to write, was 
 altogether insufficient. Compare, I beseech you, my son, 
 the trouble which it would give you to send me a few short 
 lines, with my suspense and anxiety lest you should be ill, 
 or some disastrous accident have befallen you, and I am sure 
 you will confess, that the loss, or miscarriage, of one of your 
 letters, or the trouble of composing it, is nothing in compa 
 rison. Semi your next by the New Orleans mail, or write 
 by the Genito post, and I shall receive an early answer to 
 this. Attend, I beg of you, my son, to your books. In a 
 short time, I hope to see you; but let not this expectation 
 stop your pen. 
 
 Believe me, most truly, 
 
 your affectionate 
 
 kinsman and friend, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
 P. S. I am sorry for the loss of Miniken s foal. How 
 are the others? and every thing, and every body? How 
 and where is Dr. Robinson? and Mr. Dillon? and Mr. John 
 ston. 
 
LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 House of Representatives, April 5, 1806. 
 
 THEODORE, 
 
 LAST night I was again denied the pleasure of hear- 
 g from you. I was not, indeed, without hopes that the 
 ew Orleans mail, which came in this morning, would 
 bring me a letter from you, but in this expectation I have 
 been disappointed. By this time I hope your cousins and 
 sisters are at home, and your solitary, uncomfortable situa 
 tion much changed for the better. 
 
 God bless you, my son. I hope soon to see you once 
 
 more. 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 LETTER VII. 
 
 Bizarre, July 20, 1806. 
 Mr DEAR BOYS, 
 
 BY this time, I trust, you have become familiarized, in 
 some degree, to your new situation, and to its restraints; 
 which, I hope, you will bear without murmuring, in the re 
 flection that your present self-denial will essentially contri 
 bute to your future and permanent benefit. I have often re 
 gretted, since I parted from you, that it was not my good 
 fortune, at your time of life, to be placed in a situation 
 equally eligible with what I conceive yours to be. You 
 have both, unless I am much deceived in you, a laudable 
 ambition to become learned and respectable men. Whether 
 such is to be your future character, respected and esteemed 
 by all good men, or whether you shall become mere vulgar 
 beings, whose only business is "fruges consumer^" will 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 21 
 
 altogether depend upon your present exertions. You, my 
 dear Theodore, are too much straitened for time, to lose a 
 moment that can be profitably employed; and you, my dear 
 Buona, although younger by five years, must not conceive 
 that you have any to lose. Recollect that, two years ago, 
 you could master Caesar, and that if you had continued to 
 progress, instead of falling back, which, from ill health and 
 the want of an instructer, you were compelled to do, you 
 might now be a finished Latin scholar, and somewhat of a 
 Grecian into the bargain. The man who thinks himself so 
 rich that he can afford to neglect his affairs and throw away 
 his money, is not far from want, however great his estate 
 may be. But time is, at once, the most valuable and most 
 perishable -of all our possessions; when lost it never can be 
 retrieved. 
 
 I hope to hear from you both, very soon, and to learn 
 what you are doing, and how you like your situation. Your 
 mother, my dear Tudor, is not very well, but Sally is quite 
 so. Tom and Archibald Harrison have been with us, ever 
 since Friday evening. Beverley has not returned from Mr. 
 Randolph s. Dr. Robinson has, at last, brought his lady 
 home. We dined with them to-day. 
 
 Present me, very respectfully, to Dr. Haller. I write by 
 candle-light, and the moths are swarming around my pen, 
 and on the paper, so that you will have some difficulty, I 
 fear, to make out my writing. 
 
 God bless you, my dear boys! I am your affectionate 
 uncle and friend, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 P. S. I was sorry to find, on coming home, that D An- 
 ville had been left behind. Theodore should apprize Dr. 
 Haller of his never having had the small-pox, and embrace 
 the first opportunity of being vaccinated. 
 
22 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER VIII. 
 
 v * 
 Bizarre, Thursday night, July 24, 1806. 
 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I AM very glad to find that you and Buona* are 
 pleased with your situation, and that you have begun to 
 learn French. At the same time, my son, if it is not in 
 compatible with Dr. Haller s plan of instruction, I wish you 
 both to resume your Latin. Present my respects to the 
 Doctor, and communicate this circumstance to him. 
 
 The following errors in your letter, a little care and re 
 flection would, 1 am persuaded, have led you to avoid. 
 " Have began" is not grammatical: began is the imperfect 
 tense of the verb begin; have begun is the perfect. " None 
 of us ever go in the street:" it should be into the street. 
 The preposition " by" instead of the verb buy, to pur 
 chase. " Meltons," for melons. " I am dictated by the 
 corrections, &e.," is not good English: it should be, lam 
 directed by, &c. There can be no excuse for false ortho 
 graphy: and what but inattention could have caused the er 
 rors I have noted, or occasioned Buona to spell watch, thus 
 "wacth?" God bless you both, my children. 
 Your fond uncle, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 Bizarre, Sept. 11, 1806. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I THANK you for your letter, which I received by the 
 post before last. Present my respects to Dr. Haller, and 
 
 * The appellation by which he called his younger nephew. D. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 23 
 
 tell him that I will be obliged to him to procure you shirts, 
 handkerchiefs, and such other things as you may stand in 
 need of. 
 
 We do not say " scarcely nothing" but any thing. 
 Give my love to Buona, and tell him that I shall forward 
 his letter to his brother immediately ; but, tell him, also, that 
 "a tolerable long letter" is intolerable English. He 
 should have used the adverb (tolerably) instead of the ad 
 jective. I wish that, instead of a fictitious correspondent, 
 you would address your letters, I mean those which Dr. H, 
 requires you to write, weekly, to some one of your friends, 
 or acquaintance. It would take off from them the air of 
 stiffness which now characterizes them. If Buona had been 
 describing Richmond to his mother, or myself, he would 
 never have introduced it with, " I beg leave to wait upon 
 you;" an awkward exordium, which even Mr. Expectation, 
 of Norfolk, would not approve. You see, my sons, that I 
 make very free with your performances, but do not let this 
 discourage you. Write your letters, just as you think them, 
 and they will be easy; and any inaccuracy, which creeps in r 
 may be afterwards corrected. 
 
 The partridges are so forward, that we have begun ta- 
 shoot nearly a month earlier than usual. Carlo is an excel 
 lent dog for bringing birds^ after they are shot, but not so- 
 good for finding game. I wish you were with me, my sons,-, 
 to- enjoy the sport. Your skill, my clear Theodore, would 
 make amends for my clumsiness, and dear Buona would hold 
 Miniken, who now runs away from uncle whenever she has- 
 an opportunity. But, thank God, my children, you are 
 more profitably engaged. This, alone, reconciles me to the 
 loss of your society. I hope to sec you both, about the last 
 of this month. 
 
 Mother has had an ague, and Sally very sore fingers. 
 Your friend and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 P. S. Do not make a flourish under my name, on the su 
 perscription of your letters. It is not customary to do so. 
 
24 LETTERS OF 
 
 I got a letter to-night from Mr. Bryan: he and my little 
 god-son are well, but Mrs. B. has the fever. 
 
 My dear Buona, this is your birth-day; you are now en 
 tering on your twelfth year: may you see many happy re 
 turns of this anniversary. The success of my wish will ma 
 terially depend, my child, on the use which you make of 
 the present time. 
 
 LETTER X. 
 
 Georgetown, Dec. 18, 1806. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I AM extremely glad that you and Buona are once 
 more in a situation to prosecute your studies, which, I sup 
 pose, engross your whole time, since I do not hear from you 
 as often as when I was at Bizarre, although you now have a 
 daily conveyance for your letters. My dear Tudor has not 
 written once to his uncle; nor have I received any letter 
 from him, for his brother to whom I wrote, by the Leoni- 
 das, soon after my arrival here. You would gratify me very 
 much, my sons, by letting me hear from you two or three 
 times a week, even if it were but a single line. My dear 
 boys, I have no objection to your engaging in any manly and 
 athletic exercise whatever; on the contrary, would encourage 
 you to such innocent and invigorating sports. I have some 
 books of amusement, as well as instruction, which I shall send 
 you in a few days. God bless you both. 
 
 Your fond uncle, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 25 
 
 LETTER XI. 
 
 - 
 
 Georgetown, Jan. 8, 1807. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I HAVE just received your letter of the 4th, and wait, 
 with great anxiety, for one from Dr. Haller, on the same sub 
 ject. 
 
 Let me recommend to you another perusal of Lord Chat 
 ham s letters to his nephew. Attend to his precepts respect 
 ing deportment to inferiors, equals, and superiors. Let these 
 words, also, be engraven on your mind "Whatever you 
 take from pleasure, amusement, or indolence, for these first 
 few years of your life, will repay you a hundred fold in the 
 pleasures, honours, and advantages, of all your remaining 
 days." The candour with which you confess your indiscre 
 tion towards Dr. H., and your determination to avoid giving 
 him future cause of displeasure, prevent my saying any thing 
 on that subject, except to caution you against any indulgence 
 of sudden suggestions of your feelings. Some impulse of 
 this kind, I must persuade myself, and not boyish conceit, 
 would have impelled you to lay down a regular exercise of 
 your school. Remember that labour is necessary to excel 
 lence. This is an eternal truth, although vanity cannot be 
 brought to believe, or indolence to heed it. I am deeply in 
 terested in seeing you turn out a respectable man, in every 
 point of view; and, as far as I could, have endeavoured to 
 furnish you with the means of acquiring knowledge and cor 
 rect principles, and manners, at the same time. Self-conceit 
 and indifference are unfriendly, in an equal degree, to the at 
 tainment of knowledge, or the forming of an amiable charac 
 ter. The first is more offensive, but does not more com 
 pletely mar all excellence than the last; and it is truly de 
 plorable that both flourish in Virginia, as if it were their na 
 tive soil. A petulant arrogance, or supine, listless indiffer 
 ence, marks the character of too many of our young men. 
 They early assume airs of manhood; and these premature men 
 
 4 
 
26 LETTERS OF 
 
 remain children for the rest of their lives. Upon the credit 
 of a smattering of Latin, drinking grog, and chewing tobacco, 
 these striplings set up for legislators and statesmen; and seem 
 to deem it derogatory from their manhood to treat age and 
 experience with any degree of deference. They are loud, 
 boisterous, overbearing, and dictatorial: profane in speech, 
 low and obscene in their pleasures. In the tavern, the sta 
 ble, or the gaming-house, they are at home; but, placed in 
 the society of real gentlemen, and men of letters, they are 
 awkward and uneasy: in all situations, they are contemptible. 
 
 The vanity of excelling in pursuits, where excellence does 
 not imply merit, has been the ruin of many a young man. I 
 should, therefore, be under apprehensions for a young fellow, 
 who danced uncommonly well, and expect more hereafter 
 from his heels than from his head. Alexander, I think, was 
 reproached with singing well, and very justly. He must 
 have misapplied the time which he devoted to the acquisi 
 tion of so great a proficiency in that art. I once knew a 
 young fellow who was remarkably handsome; he was highly 
 skilled in dancing and fencing an exceedingly good skater, 
 and one of the most dexterous billiard players and marks 
 men that I ever saw: he sang a good song, and was the envy 
 of every foolish fellow, and the darling of every silly girl, 
 who knew him. He was, nevertheless, one of the most ig 
 norant and conceited puppies whom I ever beheld. Yet, it 
 is highly probable, that if he had not been enamoured of the 
 rare qualities which I have enumerated, he might have made 
 a valuable and estimable man. But he was too entirely gra 
 tified with his superficial and worthless accomplishments to 
 bestow a proper cultivation on his mind. 
 
 Farewell, my dear Theodore. I am almost blind. May 
 you, my son, prove all that can be desired by your sincere 
 friend, and affectionate kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 P. S. Have you read all Miss Edgeworth s tales? Do 
 you remember the story of Lame Jervas? It is hardly ro- 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 27 
 
 wiance. I mean in this respect, that temperance, fidelity, 
 and industry, have raised many a man, from as low begin 
 nings, to respectability and affluence. The Lottery, too, is an 
 admirable story, and, perhaps, a true one, except as to the 
 happy conclusion. The little sketch which I have sentBuo- 
 na, will serve to give you a rude idea of the waters of the 
 Missouri. I hope you have not forgotten your geography. 
 Do not neglect that amusing and useful study. Write to me 
 often, and continue to send copies of your translations and 
 exercises in French, as well as Latin. 
 
 LETTER XII. 
 
 Bizarre, Sunday, April 5, 1807. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I RECEIVED your letter the day before yesterday, and 
 am not at all surprised at its contents, although, at the same 
 time, not the less obliged to you for your intelligence. I 
 saw enough, when I was last in Richmond, to make me doubt 
 whether you or Tudor could reap any solid benefit at Dr. 
 Haller s school; and, I assure you, it has caused me many a 
 moment of anxious reflection since. Indeed, I had begun to 
 entertain fears of this sort some time before, which my exa 
 mination of you both only served to confirm. In the course 
 of next week, I shall send down for you both, and, even if 
 the school be kept up, I must be greatly at a loss how to dis 
 pose of you, should you return. Pray inquire into the name 
 and character of the young Irish gentleman of whom you 
 speak, and inform him, from me, that, in case he answer my 
 expectations, I wish to employ him. My terms will be more 
 eligible than any which can be offered to him at a public se 
 minary, and I will not stand upon price. He will have less 
 to do, and be better accommodated in every respect, I trust. 
 My dear boys, my anxiety about you is extreme. Every 
 
28 LETTERS OF 
 
 hour that you lose in the seed-time of learning, fills me with 
 uneasiness and concern; I know, so welly that years of study 
 hereafter cannot make up for a day misspent, at your time of 
 life. 
 
 God bless you, my sons, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 THEODORICK B. DUDLEY. 
 
 Present my best respects to Major Scott, and tell him that 
 I hope to have the pleasure of seeing him soon, as I shall be 
 in Richmond about the 20th of next month. Don t forget 
 this. 
 
 LETTER XIII. 
 
 Bizarre, July 12, 1807. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I HAVE written to Dr. Haller, requesting that a part 
 of the time which you now employ in French exercises, may 
 be devoted to the Greek grammar, in which it is my wish 
 that you should say one lesson, at the least, daily, until you 
 be perfect in it. The time of your continuance at school be 
 gins now to grow short, and some knowledge of the Greek 
 is almost indispensable to the profession for which you are 
 designed the etymology of every term in medicine and che 
 mistry being traced to that language. 
 
 I can t account for not having heard either from yourself 
 or Buona, since I left Richmond. I hope it has not been 
 owing to your carelessness, but to some other cause. Your sis 
 ter is well; but your cousin Judy complains a good deal of 
 pain in her side. My own health has been very various 
 since I saw you. Write and let me know how and what you 
 do. God bless you, my dear boy. 
 
 I am your affectionate friend, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 29 
 
 Call on my good friend Major Scott, and present my best 
 regards to him, with inquiries after his health. If you should 
 see Dr. Brockenbrough, present him with my best respects. 
 You are now of an age to know how the world begins to 
 move, and I hope you will entertain me with such occur 
 rences as fall within your observation. Do you know whe 
 ther Mr. Tucker returned to Williamsburg after the Court of 
 Appeals rose, or if he has gone to Staunton ? 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 Farmville, August 3, 1807. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR few short lines were received by the last post, 
 but I have seen nothing of the letter which you mention 
 having kept in your desk, in expectation of a conveyance by 
 Mr. Randolph. Do you say your lessons to Mr. O Reilly 
 now? I hope you do; and that you will make every exer 
 tion to attain a proficiency in Greek, even at the expense of 
 a temporary neglect of your French and Latin. Indeed, the 
 Greek itself would keep alive your knowledge of the last. 
 You say nothing of the Major or of Dr. Brockenbrough. 
 Make my respects to both of them, and ask the Major to 
 write to me. 
 
 My love to Tudor: I have not leisure to write to him by 
 this post. I shall not disapprove his visit to Mr. Heth s, if 
 he do not make it too long. The letter to which he refers, 
 has never reached me. Hereafter, I hope, you will put your 
 letters into the post-office with your own hands. Let me 
 know if you want any thing clothes, &c. Your sister has 
 had the St. Anthony s fire, but is quite well at present. Your 
 cousin Judy has been complaining for some days, and looks 
 badly. 
 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
30 LETTERS OF 
 
 I am sorry that Tudor has left off saying his lessons to Mr. 
 O Reilly. I like his method of teaching. Show him [Tu 
 dor] this letter. 
 
 Capt. Murray s family are on a visit to Dr. Robinson. Ho- 
 dijah is coming to live with Mr. Johnston, to study law with 
 him. He is expected up every day. 
 
 LETTER XV. 
 
 Farmville, Aug. 7, 1807. 
 My DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I HAVE just received your letter of the 2d. En 
 closed you have ten dollars, out of which you will reim 
 burse Dr. Haller the price of the hat which he was so good 
 as to procure for you when yours was stolen. If you are in 
 want of shoes, get a pair, and divide what may remain of the 
 money with Tudor. In your next, let me know the num 
 ber of lessons, &c., which you daily perform, and the mas 
 ters to whom you recite; or, rather, a description of your 
 studies for a week, under the several heads of Greek, La 
 tin, French, mathematics, &c. I am sorry, my dear boy, 
 that you should write merely from a sense of duty; but I 
 hope you will not always be as destitute of matter worth 
 communicating as you now represent yourself to be, and as 
 I feel to be my own case. I am quite alone, and obliged to 
 do great violence to my inclination in continuing to endure 
 the privation of your and Tudor s society; but the conside 
 ration of your advantage prevails over my own gratification. 
 Farewell, my dear boys: may you answer and ever exceed 
 the expectations of your fond uncle, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 Have you heard lately from your father or mother? Sally 
 is well: Hodijah has not yet come up. 
 
 LETTER XVI. 
 
 Farmville, Friday, Aug. 21, 1807. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I HAVE just received your letter of the 15th, which 
 gives me a great deal of pleasure as far as it relates to your 
 self; but I was sorry to hear nothing of Tudor, who last 
 week wrote to his mother that he was in bad health, and his 
 silence this week will make her very uneasy. Why do you 
 take no notice of each other in your letters, as if you were 
 utter strangers. I calculated that four or five dollars (I gave 
 four for Buona) would get your hat, two the shoes, and 
 then there would have been nine or twelve shillings a-piece 
 for you. 
 
 Give my compliments to Major Scott, and ask him to pay 
 you ten dollars, and charge them to me. Give Tudor two 
 of them in my name. If the other eight do not answer 
 your purpose, the major will give you what is requisite. 
 Do you take plenty of exercise? and how is your health 
 and Tudor s? Is the mathematical lesson you say, in Eu 
 clid? What book? I wish you not to discontinue French 
 entirely, by any means. Omitting some of your Latin les 
 sons, (say three a week,) would enable you to devote two or 
 three days to French. 
 
 Call immediately on Major Scott, and tell him that I un 
 derstand Davis means to send the wagons down soon, and I 
 request he will order them to call at Webster s cabinet-shop 
 for a press and bedstead for me. You have not yet men 
 tioned how my old friend is, or Dr. B. Your intelligence 
 
32 LETTERS OF 
 
 is acceptable, although not new. Write Alston, not <ft.l- 
 stin. 
 
 God bless you, my dear Theodore. 
 
 Yours affectionately, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
 Mr. Creed Taylor, who saw you both on Saturday, tells 
 me Tudor and yourself were well. 
 
 LETTER XVII. 
 
 Bizarre, Aug. 23, 1807. 
 Mvr DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 WHEN I wrote to you yesterday, I did not advert to 
 the circumstance of your being engaged in reading " Ele- 
 mens de Chymie," which will serve to prevent your forget 
 ting your French altogether. Nevertheless, I could wish 
 you to accustom yourself to translate into that language, 
 or (what is better) to compose in it; since, in a short time, 
 you would acquire the habit of thinking in it, also, instead 
 of thinking in English and translating your thoughts. Do 
 not suppose, from this, that I prefer the French, as a lan 
 guage, to our own. Far from it. In my estimation it 
 stands at an immeasurable distance, in the scale of excel 
 lence, below our native tongue. But the progress of the 
 arts in France, and still more, the progress of her arms, 
 render an acquaintance with the language of that formida 
 ble people almost indispensable. Widely diffused as it now 
 is, every day enlarges its range. It will be to Europe what 
 the Latin was in the age of Trajan ; and the time, perhaps, is 
 not far distant, when the language and literature of England 
 will be unknown out of North America, and we shall not 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 33 
 
 preserve them without a struggle. They have not taken 
 root deep enough in India to withstand the storm: perhaps 
 their insignificancy may preserve the settlements in New 
 Holland, and thus perpetuate the mother tongue in both he 
 mispheres. Under these circumstances, nothing short of in 
 fatuation could induce the English cabinet to force us into a 
 war with them. But I am running into politics. 
 
 Is it true that Dr. Haller intends to break up his school, 
 and for the reason which I have heard assigned? " Mr. Pel- 
 zer s striking one of his scholars?" Is Mr. Pelzer still with 
 Dr. H. a,nd Mr. Garnet? Has the philosophical apparatus ar 
 rived? Does any one lecture on natural philosophy or che 
 mistry? Are there any other Greek scholars but yourself? 
 if so, what books do they read? Have you practised much 
 in arithmetic? without a ready knowledge of it, the study 
 of the mathematics will be vain. 1 hope, in your next, a 
 reply to these queries, for I have observed that your letters 
 are very seldom answers to mine. 
 
 Sally was much pleased with your intelligence concern 
 ing her parents and brethren. She is well, and desires to 
 be remembered affectionately to you: so does your cousin 
 Judy. I m afraid that we shall have very few partridges, 
 owing to the wetness of the season. Yesterday was the 
 first day that has passed without rain since the 10th. The 
 crops are ruined, corn excepted, and that much injured by 
 wet. Farewell, my dear Theodore. 
 
 I am, in truth, your affectionate kinsman 
 
 and friend, 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 THEODORICK BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
34 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER XVIII. 
 
 Bizarre, August 30, 1807. 
 My DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 DR. HALLER writes me that you have become ex 
 ceedingly diligent of late, and that the good effect of your in 
 dustry is manifested by your advancement in your studies. 
 I can scarcely make you sensible of the pleasure which this 
 intelligence has given me. I laid awake the greater part of 
 the night, after I received the letter, thinking of you, and 
 pleasing myself with imagining your future progress in life. 
 Whether you prove a useful or creditable member of society 
 or not, depends altogether upon yourself; and I am truly re 
 joiced to hear that you possess the inclination, in as great a 
 degree as you do the power: not that I have hitherto doubted 
 your disposition to learn; but there is a wide difference be 
 tween a boy s getting his lesson from a sense of duty, or a 
 fear of punishment, and his applying himself, with zeal, from 
 a conviction that he is consulting his future advantage, and 
 from an honourable ambition to distinguish himself. To ex 
 cel) there must be something of this ardour. Without it, no 
 thing better than a tame mediocrity can be expected. The 
 taste for reading, which you are now forming, will be a source 
 of pleasure to you through life. If the indolent and the de 
 bauched could conceive the enjoyment of a literary mind, 
 their boasted pleasures would become loathsome to them. 
 
 You say that your mathematical lessons are " in the first 
 book:" of what? Euclid, I suppose; but why this obscurity, 
 or, rather, this omission? Do you read the evangelists in 
 Greek with tolerable facility ? How do you like that lan 
 guage? Do you continue to translate English into French 
 and Latin? If you see Quasha when he comes down again, 
 send me Edgeworth s Tales by him. By the way, call at 
 Major Scott s every evening after this comes to hand, and 
 you will know when the wagon comes down. I expect it 
 will be in town about Wednesday or Thursday. Inquire at 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 35 
 
 Gordon s, Ellis , and Allen s, and the different stores, for 
 shot No. 8; get me a bag, and send it up by Quasha; the Ma 
 jor will pay for it, or, what is the same thing, furnish you 
 with money to do it. Order Quasha to call at Webster s ca 
 binet shop for a mahogany press, and a bedstead of mine, and, 
 if there are any oyster shells in Richmond, get a hogshead for 
 me, and send them up by the wagon. The Major is busy, 
 and I do not like to trouble him. Show him this letter, and 
 he will advance the money for the shot and shells. 
 Adieu, my son, 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 My dear Buona has not written to his uncle for a great 
 length of time. The examination being over, he now has 
 leisure, no doubt. My love to him. 
 
 LETTER XIX. 
 
 Bizarre, Oct. 6, 1807 
 MY DEAR BOYS, 
 
 THE time has, at length, arrived, when I may once 
 more indulge myself with the pleasure of your company. It 
 is an unspeakable satisfaction to me, you may be assured, and, 
 I trust, not less so to yourselves. Enclosed are twenty dollars, 
 (five a piece, besides ten for your journey,) which may dis 
 charge any little debts that you may have contracted, al 
 though I hope you have not exposed yourselves to the in 
 convenience of any debt, however small: but I know that 
 this is an error into which youthful heedlessness is too apt to 
 run. If you have escaped it, you have exercised more judg 
 ment than I possessed at your age; the want of which cost 
 
gg LETTERS OF 
 
 me many a heart-ache. When any bauble caught my fancy, 
 I would, perhaps, buy it on credit, and always for twice as 
 much, at least, as it was worth. In a day or two, cloyed with 
 the possession of what, to my youthful imagination, had ap 
 peared so very desirable, I would readily have given it away 
 to the first comer; but, in discarding it, I could not exonerate 
 myself from the debt which I had unwittingly incurred, the re 
 collection of which incessantly haunted me. Many a night s 
 sleep has been broken by sad reflection, on the difficulty into 
 which I had plunged myself, and in devising means of extri 
 cation. At the approach of my creditor, 1 shrunk, and looked, 
 no doubt, as meanly as \felt: for the relation between debtor 
 and creditor is that of a slave to his master. It begins with 
 the subjugation of the mind, and ends with the enslavement 
 of the body. The ancients sold the person of the debtor to 
 slavery for the benefit of the creditor; we imprison it: nei 
 ther punishment too severe for the wretch, who is abject 
 enough to submit to conditions which may, ultimately, lead 
 to so humiliating a consequence. The most intolerable por 
 tion of his lot is its degradation, and to this he has deliberate 
 ly consented to subject himself, upon a contingency! At the 
 same time, he must have the soul of Nero, who could inflict 
 upon a fellow being so much misery, (and this is the strong 
 est argument against capital punishment: for human butche 
 ry presupposes human butchers, monsters whom society 
 should not tolerate, much less nourish in her bosom;) I ex 
 cept, however, the case of a fraudulent debtor. For if he 
 may be enslaved in the penitentiary, who steals a dollar, sure 
 ly he may be punished with imprisonment, or hard labour, 
 who dishonestly embezzles, or withholds, a hundred, which 
 he justly owes, and is able to pay. He is the greater rogue 
 of the two, for he adds breach of trust to robbery. You did 
 not trust the highwayman who forcibly, or the thief who pri 
 vately, took your dollar, or your money. You never put it into 
 their hands with a sacred promise, expressed, or implied, to 
 restore it again; but secured it against both as well as you 
 could. Speaking of promises, (and every debtor is a pro- 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 37 
 
 miser, and too often a promise-breaker,) you cannot be too 
 much on your guard against them, unless where the per 
 formance is undoubtedly in your power, and, at the. same 
 time, will conduce to your honour or benefit, or those of 
 another. When I was a boy, I was sometimes betrayed into 
 promises, by the artful solicitation of others, principally ser 
 vants, whom I had not the firmness to deny. The courage 
 which enables us to say " no " to an improper application, 
 cannot be too soon acquired. The want of it has utterly ruined 
 many an amiable man. My word, in a moment of facility, 
 being once passed, I was even more tormented with the 
 thoughts of the obligation into which I had unthinkingly en 
 tered, than by the importunity of those to whom it had been 
 given. Let me advise you both to profit by my warning, 
 and never make a promise which you can honourably avoid. 
 When any one proposes a matter to you, in the least degree 
 repugnant to your feelings, have the courage to give a reso 
 lute, yet mild, denial. Do not, through false shame, through 
 a vicious modesty, entrap yourself into a situation which 
 may dye your cheeks with real shame. Say, " No, it will 
 not be in my power; I cannot:" or, if it be a thing which 
 you would willingly do, but doubt your ability, take care to 
 say, " I cannot promise, but, if it be in my power, I will do 
 it" Remember, too, that no good man will ever exact a 
 promise of a boy, or a very young person, but for their good; 
 never for his own benefit. You may safely promise to try 
 to get so many lines in Virgil, &c.; and if you do honestly 
 endeavour to effect it, your word is not forfeited. In short, 
 a promise is always a serious evil to him who gives it; often 
 to him who receives it; (unless it have his advantage for its 
 object;) for, putting full faith in it, he takes his measures ac 
 cordingly, and is, perchance, thereby ruined. As to the pro- 
 miser, he is like the keeper, who amused the spectators of 
 his lion by putting his head into the animal s mouth. This 
 he did frequently, and got it out in safety, until, at last, the 
 lion, in a fit of ill-humour, bit it off. Your word ought to be 
 dearer to you than your head; beware, then, how you put it 
 
38 LETTERS OF 
 
 into the lion s mouth. If it were proposed to you to save 
 your lives by a lie, and either of you had the weakness to 
 consent, I should pity him, but, at the same time, despise 
 him from my very soul. From all this, you will readily in 
 fer how dangerous it is to be the depository of a secret. 
 Curiosity, my dear boys, is a powerful passion, but beware 
 of entering into stipulations with any one for indulging it. He 
 who discloses his secret to another, is generally supposed to 
 do that person a favour ; but how falsely, a few moments con 
 sideration will show. He who offers to confide a secret to 
 you, takes a great liberty, and, in fact, asks you to do him a 
 great favour, that of keeping it, which none but a friend has 
 any claim to do. You would be safer, and act a less foolish 
 part, to promise to keep his money for him, at your own risk, 
 and refund what might be lost or stolen, because you would 
 be sure that it was in your exclusive custody, whereas, the 
 secret may be, and, probably, has been, intrusted by the pos 
 sessor to others besides yourself, and, when he finds it divulged, 
 you are involved in the general suspicion. But this is not all. 
 You lay yourself open to embarrassment in many ways. Sup 
 pose William Gerard Hamilton had confided to you that he 
 was the author of the letters of Junius, and you should be 
 questioned about it. If Hamilton were your friend, you would 
 have no hesitation, for it would be your duty, boldly to un 
 dertake the preservation of his secret, and faithfully to per 
 form it; but why all this for a stranger? unless that stranger 
 be friendless, and have qualities to recommend him to your 
 esteem or compassion. Having become the depository of a 
 secret, it must be preserved, at whatever risk. It cannot be 
 betrayed without infamy. He who does it is a perjured 
 traitor. Well ! you are asked, " Do you know the author 
 of Junius ?" You may reply, (because it is an unfair ques 
 tion,) " What right have you to inquire ?" But, suppose Ha 
 milton to be suspected, and you, being in habits of particu 
 lar intimacy with him, are supposed to know, and are di 
 rectly asked " Is not William Gerard Hamilton the author 
 of Junius?" What s to be done? If you falter, or are 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 39 
 
 silent, you betray your friend as effectually as if you an 
 swered affirmatively, " He is." This is a painful predicament, 
 indeed, to an ingenuous mind. You cannot betray your friend 
 without incurring the blackest guilt. Your obligation to him 
 is anterior to the other, and supersedes it ; for the condition 
 upon which you were trusted was that you should not disclose 
 it, and that condition embraces this very case. You have 
 then stipulated with him that if you are asked the question, 
 you will say " NO, and endeavour to look " NO." This stipu 
 lation is virtually contained in that to keep the secret. Your 
 part then is decided : you give a firm denial j the only case 
 in which it is permitted to violate truth, and that for its pre 
 servation. But, remember, there must be no concealed guilt 
 in that latent truth. When the Persian youth were taught to 
 draw the bow, to speak the truth, and to keep a secret, (which, 
 in fact, is nothing but adhering to the truth, the divulger be 
 ing, at once, a liar and a traitor,) they overran all the west- 
 tern Asia ; but when they became corrupt and unfaithful to 
 their word, a handful of Greeks was an over-match for mil 
 lions of them. A liar is always a coward. I have thus, my 
 dear boys, thrown out, at greater length than I intended, some 
 principles for your consideration. Keep this letter, and read 
 it again but do not show it; not that I am ashamed of it; 
 but it is not right to show letters, or repeat private conversa 
 tion, except in very particular circumstances. Never do it, 
 until you are old enough to judge of those circumstances, and 
 then with scrupulous delicacy. 
 
 On Saturday, the river was almost as low as it was last 
 summer, and, by the middle of the next day, there was the 
 highest fresh that has been known since August, 1795, the 
 month before you were born, my dear Buona. Do you know 
 that there are Sorees (vulgo Soarusses) here. I killed one in 
 the ice-pond, just before I went to Roanoke, and Mr. Wood- 
 son tells me that he has killed four, besides a great many or 
 tolans. I returned from Roanoke, after a fortnight s absence, 
 last night, and, whilst there, I killed ortolans in abundance. 
 This puts me in mind, my dear Theodore, to request that you 
 
40 LETTERS OF 
 
 will bring me the articles of which you have a list subjoined, 
 God bless you both, my dear boys. 
 
 Your fond uncle, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 Mr. T. B. DUDLEY and T. T, RANDOLPH. 
 
 My compliments to Dr. H. I am sorry to see his Latin mas 
 ters changed so often. 
 
 Call at Mr. Charles Johnston s, and inquire whether there 
 are any letters there for me. Also, whether there is any 
 news of the ships Calpe, Desdemona, or Rolla 1 or any late 
 arrival from London? Bring me, also, the last newspapers ; 
 take a memorandum of the ships names. 
 
 
 LETTER XX. 
 
 Nov. 15, 1807. 
 MY DEAR SON, 
 
 I HAVE been three long weeks at this place; almost 
 all the time in bad health and worse spirits, and not a line 
 have I received from yourself or Buona. I hoped you would 
 have informed me how you spent your time what books 
 you had read how many partridges, .&c., you had killed 
 what visits you had paid or received, and, above all, how 
 your cousin s health, which I left in the most delicate state, 
 stood affected. When I have strength and leisure, I will 
 write to you fully on the subject of our last conversation: 
 at present I am incapable. Mean while, for whatever you 
 want, apply to Major Scott, who will furnish you at a mo 
 ment s warning. 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 Ask Dr. Robinson if he received a letter from me. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 41 
 
 LETTER XXI. 
 
 Georgetown, Nov. 27, 1807. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter has afforded me a pleasure which I ne 
 ver fail to receive from your communications. Your pre 
 sent situation, my son, is not exactly that which I would 
 wish, but I cannot select one more eligible, at this time. If, 
 however, you make a proper use of your present opportu 
 nity, slender as it is, you cannot fail to derive much useful 
 information from it. You are now of an age, my dear boy, 
 when the mind, no longer passive to impression, begins to 
 exert itself. The elements of knowledge are within your 
 self, and the rest, of course, within your reach. We, all of 
 us, have two educations; one which we receive from others 
 another, and the most valuable, which we give ourselves. 
 It is this last which fixes our grade in society, which deter 
 mines, eventually, our actual value in this life, and, perhaps, 
 the colour of our fate hereafter. Yes, my dear Theodore, 
 your destiny is in your own hands; nor would all the pro 
 fessors and teachers in the world make you a wise and good 
 man without your own co-operation; and, if such you are 
 determined to be, it is not the want of them that can pre 
 vent it 
 
 You are mistaken in supposing that there are no English 
 books in the press, the key of which I left with you: behind 
 the Encyclopaedia are some cumbrous folios, none of them 
 deserving your attention, except, perhaps, Rapin; but, in 
 the upper division, you will find, behind Voltaire and Rous 
 seau, nearly a hundred volumes, amongst which are Hume, 
 Belsham, and many others, which I consider as standard 
 works that you cannot be too well acquainted with. There 
 is a little manuscript catalogue of them on the shelf; and, if 
 you will send it me, I will mark such as you would do well 
 to read, noting the order. There are, besides, the books in 
 the cabinet, to say nothing of your lexicons, atlases, &c. I 
 
 6 
 
42 LETTERS OF 
 
 would advise you, in reading, to consult the Encylopasdis 
 when you meet with a difficult article; always resorting for 
 the meaning of words, which you do not understand, to the 
 Dictionnaire de P Academic, in the first instance, and never 
 to the French and English dictionary, but from necessity. 
 It will enlarge your knowledge of the language, more than 
 you are aware of. I would recommend, too, frequent trans 
 lations from the French, which, when the original has faded 
 from your mind, you may retranslate in your own style, and 
 then compare it with your author. 
 
 I rejoice to hear of your amusement with your gun, and 
 that you are regaining your skill. I hope even Buona 
 will soon come to beat me on the wing. Give my love to 
 him: I long to see his rosy cheeks. My love, also, to 
 Sally. 
 
 God bless you, my dear boy. 
 
 I am your fond uncle, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, 
 
 THEODORICK BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 Write by the Orleans mail. Remember me kindly to 
 the Doctor and Mrs. R., and to Hodijah, also. Tell the for- 
 raer I. have received his letter, and thank him for it. 
 
 LETTER XXII. 
 
 Dec. 11, 180T. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I WAS more mistaken than I thought I was, in respect 
 to the English books in the press, the keys of which I left 
 you/ But I trust you have enough to employ you until my 
 return. I have, literally, nothing, my dear boy, to say to 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 43 
 
 you, except to express my unceasing solicitude for your wel 
 fare. Having made a party to shoot to-morrow, I feared I 
 might not have time on my return to write even a few lines, 
 which I feel confident you are always glad to receive from 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 LETTER XXIII. 
 
 Dec. 19, 1807. 
 MY DE,iR THEODORE, 
 
 I HAVE just received your letter of the 17th, and 
 * thanfc you for it, as I am always gratified at hearing from 
 you. Perhaps you could not do better than to begin Hume 
 (as you have read it once) with the reign of Elizabeth, and 
 read with attention that important period, and also the reign 
 of Charles I., the Protectorate, and Charles and James II. 
 The civil wars cannot be studied too deeply. 
 
 I have very pleasing intelligence of your old companion 
 St. George. He was well, at Paris, on the 25th of October; 
 has made great proficiency in drawing, and will soon begin 
 sculpture on fine stones, (seals, &c.,) and painting. 
 
 Voltaire is a most sprightly, agreeable writer, but not al 
 ways to be depended upon for facts. His Charles XII. and 
 Peter are his most accurate works. The Siecle de Louis 
 XIV. is, upon the whole, not an unfaithful history; and, as a 
 picture of the manners of that age, is unique. Compare 
 the Dutch now, with what they were then. I sometimes 
 try to believe that their present degradation is a visitation of 
 God for the massacre of the De Witts. May we, my dear 
 son, take warning of the fate of that once powerful repub 
 lic. Their cruel task-master is now forging chains for us. 
 
44 LETTERS OF 
 
 God bless you and make you good, and learned, and 
 happy. The two first are in your own power. 
 Your fond uncle, and friend, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 LETTER XXIV. 
 
 Jn. 10, 1808. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I HAVE barely time to thank you for your letter, with 
 its accompaniment. You have retained the French idiom 
 
 in several instances in your version of Miss M s letter. 
 
 You must, my dear son, be in want of various things Acces 
 sary to your time of life. Enclosed is a trifle, which 
 assist in supplying some of them. 
 My love to Tudor and Sally. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 THEODORE BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 LETTER XXV. 
 
 Georgetown, Jan. 31, 1808. 
 MY DEAR BOYS, 
 
 You have given me cause to complain of you. You 
 have, indeed, assigned as a reason for your silence, the want 
 of a subject on which to write. But surely you might send 
 me some translation, Latin, French, or English, which 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 45 
 
 would serve to amuse a solitary hour, (for I am almost with 
 out society or books,) and afford proof of your application. 
 I do most earnestly exhort you both to a proper employ 
 ment of your time which, now misspent, is for ever lost. 
 
 When you see Hodijah, remember me very cordially to 
 him. I have sometimes hoped that he would write to me; 
 but it seems I flattered myself in vain. 
 
 God bless you both: let me know how you employ your 
 selves. 
 
 Your affectionate uncle, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 T. B. DUDLEY and T. T. RANDOLPH. 
 
 LETTER XXVI. 
 
 Georgetown, Feb. 12, 1808. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 AMIDST other causes of uneasiness, which press upon 
 me in my present situation, I have not been exempt from 
 much concern on your account. I fear, my son, that too 
 much, not only of your time, but of your attention, is es 
 tranged from those objects to which they ought to be almost 
 exclusively directed. Do you know from what circum 
 stances I have drawn this unpleasant inference? from your 
 writing so seldom, and, when you do, making no mention 
 of the books which you have read, much less expressing any 
 opinion concerning them. By this time, I suppose you 
 must have finished Hume and Belsham. Endeavour, I be 
 seech you, to acquire a minute knowledge of English histo 
 ry, ^specially since the accession of the House of Stuart. 
 Next taV e up Robertson s Scotland, which, with more pro 
 priety, mign.t be entitled his history of Mary. The life of 
 
46 LETTERS OF 
 
 Charles V., by the same author, and Russell s Modern Eu 
 rope, will give you a tolerable outline of the history of the 
 continental nations, and a review of Gibbon s Decline and 
 Fall will afford the connexion between the ancient and mo 
 dern worlds. All these books you will find in the cabinet. 
 Do not, however, permit history to engross your attention 
 to the exclusion of languages. You may keep alive, and 
 even improve your knowledge of Latin and French by a 
 very simple but obvious method. On one day translate into 
 English a passage from some easy author, Cassar or Tele- 
 machus, for example; and, on the next, restore them to the 
 original language: then compare your version with the book, 
 and by it correct, with your pen, all inaccuracies. This will 
 impress the thing more deeply on your mind. At the same 
 time, continue to read the more difficult authors, such as 
 Horace and Livy, (this last is in the cabinet,) with your dic 
 tionary. You will find Le Sage s Atlas a great help in your 
 historical researches. When you see Dr. Robinson, you 
 may consult him on any difficult passage in the classics. Do 
 not, I beseech you, give up your Greek grammar, even if 
 you retain nothing but declensions and conjugations. 
 
 Since I began this letter, yours of the 4th has been 
 brought to me. You do not mention the receipt of a bank 
 note which I sent you some weeks ago. I hope it came to 
 hand. How does the stock fare this bad weather? Are the 
 Sans-Culottes fillies in good plight? An account of matters 
 on the plantation might supply the subject of a letter. How 
 is poor old Jacobin? and all the rest of the houyhnhnms? I 
 hope you will plant out some trees this spring, west and 
 north of the old house. 
 
 Adieu, my dear Theodore. I am, in truth, your affec 
 tionate kinsman and friend, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 THEODORE B. DUDLEY. 
 
 I have heard nothing from your father, or mother* since I 
 left home. Perhaps a letter, addressed to ttem, " near 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 47 
 
 Nashville, Tennessee," would reach them. When you 
 write, present me to them all, and particularly to Fanny. 
 Apropos: are you aware that your letters, to me, would 
 constitute an improving exercise to you, if you could pre 
 vail upon yourself to write every week. You can never, I 
 affirm it, be at a loss for a subject. The occurrences of the 
 week, your oWn studies, the reflections of your mind upon 
 particular subjects, form inexhaustible topics for your com 
 munications. What have / to write about, more than your 
 self? What portion of this letter consists of narrative of 
 facts. 
 
 LETTER XXVII. 
 
 Georgetown, Feb. 28, 1808. 
 My DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR last letter gave me unusual satisfaction. Con 
 tinue, I beseech you, my son, to afford me the same gratifi 
 cation every week. An account of your studies, and even 
 of your amusements, would at all times serve to amuse me r 
 at least and must always be a subject of interest to me. I 
 am unable, to-day, to do more than express my wishes that 
 your time may pass both profitably and pleasantly; for, al 
 though the fineness of the day has tempted me to take an 
 airing in a carriage, I do not feel at all the better for it. I 
 am glad to hear that you have, at last, received intelligence 
 of your parents and family, and beg you to remember me 
 to them all, when you write. 
 
 Greet the Doctor in my name, and tell him that I was 
 much concerned to see, by the papers, that he has lost the 
 locks of his fowling-piece, and shall be glad to hear that he 
 has found them again. My best regards, also, to Mrs. R., 
 and tell her I hope my little friend Will is well, although I 
 
48 LETTERS OF 
 
 am sorry to learn that I am likely to lose him as a neigh 
 bour. Commend me to Hodijah, who, I hope, has not for 
 gotten me. 
 
 Adieu, my dear Theodore, and believe me, with the most 
 unfeigned regard, 
 
 Your friend and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, 
 
 THEODORICK BLAND DUDLEY. 
 My love to Sally. 
 
 LETTER XXVIII. 
 
 Georgetown, March 6, 1808, 
 MY DEAR BOYS, 
 
 I INTENDED to have written to each of you to-day, and 
 at considerable length, but I have passed a very bad night, 
 and find myself too much disordered to do more than say y 
 How do you do ? and express my earnest wishes for your well 
 being. My complaint, I believe, is a rheumatic fever; for I 
 am never free from flying pains, and am very feverish. Give 
 my love to your mother, my dear Buona, and tell her that I 
 will endeavour to send her your brother s drawings (some of 
 them, at least) by Mr. Earle, of South Carolina, brother to 
 him who once called at Bizarre to see me. He is not in Con 
 gress, but came here a few days since, on business; and he 
 tells me that he will return about the middle of next week. 
 As he travels in a chair, I hope he will be able to take the 
 drawings on with him. I wrote to your mother yesterday, 
 by the Orleans mail. 
 
 My dear boys, remember me to all our neighbours, when 
 you see them: the Doctor and Mrs. Robinson, Mr. Dillon, 
 Mr. Woodson, Mrs. Johnston and family. Be particular in 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 49 
 
 mentioning me to Hodijah and Tom Murray, whom I thank 
 for his kind remembrance of me. God bless you both, and 
 believe me, in truth, 
 
 Your affectionate uncle, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 Messrs. THEO. B. DUDLEY and T. TUDOR RANDOLPH. 
 
 My love to Sally. 
 
 LETTER XXIX. 
 
 Georgetown, March 13, 1808. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR two letters, of the 28th of February and 6th of 
 March, both arrived by the same post. It gives me great 
 pleasure, my dear son, to see you so well employed; but, at 
 the same time, I must point out to you some traces of negli 
 gence, as well as some errors in your translations. 
 
 "Bemfit" for "benefit;" insilflerable " (I have tried to 
 imitate the character) for insufferable. " Enough resources, 
 or room, or 0/"troops." Adverbs of quantity govern the ge 
 nitive; but this is awkwardly expressed. You have ren 
 dered the difficult passage very well; although rather too 
 much in the Latin idiom. This fault, time will correct. I 
 find it in your French translations also. I would have said 
 " should not be refused by any," although it is in the dative, 
 " se vindicare in libertatem;" restore themselves to liberty, 
 or vindicate their liberty, is more literal, and equally ele 
 gant with "obtain their liberty," and, therefore, better. 
 "Least" is not an English conjunction; it should be lest. 
 Consult Home Tooke for this word. The Index in the se 
 cond volume (I believe) will refer you to the page where it 
 is to be found. " Marcus Anthony :" we say Mark Antho- 
 
 7 
 
50 LETTERS OF 
 
 ny, or Marcus Jlntonius. "Have began " is not correct; 
 began is the imperfect tense begun is the perfect. 
 
 "Il seufaut beaucoup" far from if, or, much is want 
 ing. " The Primate, who served so much to the deposing 
 Augustus;" it should be of Augustus: but, moreover, this 
 English smells of French too strongly: who contributed so 
 much, would have been better. Also, "the expedition 
 against (rather than of) Copenhagen." " The instruetions 
 upon which I have worked, French idiom again: Informa- 
 ti on have written or built. " It is not a history, far from 
 it, but they are excellent materials." Here is a false concord. 
 The handwriting is very illegible. For want of the original, 
 I have not been able to correct as well as I could have wished; 
 but, by looking over it yourself, you will see where my re 
 marks apply. And now, my dear Theodore, let me thank 
 you, which I do most sincerely, for your letters, and request 
 a regular continuance of them. In a short time, my dear boy, 
 I hope you will be in a more eligible situation for prosecuting 
 your studies. You might be in a much worse, in any school 
 now within your reach, unless your old one has (as I hope) 
 changed materially for the better. 
 
 I am sorry to hear that you had not received your linen, 
 &c., by the wagon. Quasha could not have called at Ellis 
 and Allan s. By this time, however, I hope you have ob 
 tained them. 
 
 Farewell. Let me know how our neighbours are. To 
 day, for the first time since my accident, I rode out on horse 
 back. 
 
 Yours, most affectionately, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, 
 
 T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
 My love to Sally. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 51 
 
 LETTER XXX. 
 
 Saturday, March 18, 1808. 
 
 You were not mistaken, my dear Theodore, in supposing 
 that I was unwell. I have been, and am, very much disor 
 dered within the last week; but you were mistaken in as 
 cribing your not hearing from me to that cause, for I have 
 written to you very regularly. I wish, if you hear any news 
 of your mother, or her family, to let me know how they all 
 do, and, when you write, to present me to them all, espe 
 cially to your sister Fanny, for whom I feel peculiar regard. 
 
 I am surprised to hear that the stock, horses especially, 
 will be poor, since there was such plenty of hay and corn. 
 I hope Mr. Galding will attend to poor little Minikin. 
 
 In the hurry of my last, I forgot to note, in one of your 
 translations from Caesar, (of March 6th,) the following inac 
 curacies: "Intol/erable;" "winterings" for winter-quar 
 ters. 
 
 In the translation from Voltaire, of March 13th: "I yet 
 wait an extract "for an extract would have been better. 
 " I, who s intention " now, always written ivhose. In the 
 translation from Caesar, of the same date: " Ambusfoades" 
 for ambuscades. We say ambush, but not ambusucade or 
 ambusAscade, but ambuscade. 
 
 The negotiation with Mr. Rose, the British minister, is at 
 an end. But you are no politician, I believe; and I hope 
 (for your sake) you never may be. Remember me affection 
 ately to Sally, and to Hodijah and Tom Murray. The Doc 
 tor and his charming wife, I hope, have not forgotten me, al 
 though I fear my little friend William has. My best regards 
 to them all. 
 
 Adieu, my dear Theodore. 
 
 Yours, most truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 Mr. THEODORICK BLA\D DUDLEY. 
 
52 LETTERS OF 
 
 By this time, I hope you have been gratified with a sight 
 of St. George s* drawings: tell me what you think of them. 
 
 LETTER XXXI. 
 
 Georgetown, April 3, 1808. 
 
 Mr dear Theodore will excuse the shortness of this hur 
 ried letter, in consideration of the fatigue which has almost 
 entirely exhausted me. I thank you, my son, for your in 
 telligence respecting your mother* and her family. Do not 
 forget to remember me to her, and all of them, when you 
 write. You have spelled the present participle of this verb 
 with a g and an h, thus, " wrig-Ating" both supernumerary 
 letters; the last of which you have cut off from the poor 
 preposition through often written thro , but never but 
 once, "throug:" " which evil fell to," instead of upon, &c. 
 
 I have sent you and Tudor four fish-hooks, worth four 
 thousand of the common sort. Adieu. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 Mr. THEODORE BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 My best love to Sally. 
 
 * His oldest nephew was unfortunately deaf and dumb 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 53 
 
 LETTER XXXII. 
 
 Saturday, April 23<Z, 1808. 
 
 Half past five. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 THIS is, probably, the last letter which I shall write 
 for some time to come, from this place, at least; but, I could 
 not refrain from letting you all know that I am not quite 
 dead, although nearly so, with the intolerable fatigue of my 
 late mode of life. I shall leave Georgetown on Tuesday 
 morning, and, if I do not take Richmond in my way, shall 
 reach Bizarre by dinner time, on Saturday: in which event 
 I shall bring two or three of my Georgia friends with me. 
 Give my best love to your cousin Judy, and apprize her of 
 this. God bless you all. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
 LETTER XXXIII. 
 
 Nov. 2, 1808. 
 
 I AM about to leave you once more, my dear boys, 
 with sensations of regret that I know not how to describe. 
 You, however, 1 trust, will diminish that which I now feel, 
 and assuage many more that may be in store for me, by an 
 adherence to that propriety of conduct which I have so often 
 delighted to observe in you. Cherish, I beseech you, mutual 
 love and kindness. Let no childish and unseemly bicker 
 ings disturb your peace, and that of my sister. There is 
 one point on which I fear for you both want of exertion 
 in the prosecution of your studies. Upon vigorous and 
 
54 LETTERS OF 
 
 steady application, all hopes of your future advancement 
 depend. Your hours of study must be fixed, and not bro 
 ken in upon by others, or wasted in lassitude and indolence. 
 Read Lord Chatham s Letters again. Think that I speak to 
 you in his words accustom yourselves to act, as if in the 
 presence of some friend, whose approbation you are solicitous 
 to gain and preserve. You are, indeed, never out of the 
 view of a superintending Providence, by whom all your ac 
 tions are scanned. Keep this eternal truth always in mind. 
 Do right, and you cannot fail to be as happy as our defective 
 nature will permit the sons of men to be. Be true to your 
 selves and to each other, and, in the course of your journey 
 through life, you will find more aid and comfort in the friend 
 ship formed in your boyish days, than wealth and grandeur 
 can afford. God bless you both you shall hear from me 
 soon when my mind is more at rest. 
 
 Your fond uncle, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 LETTER XXXIV. 
 
 Georgetown, Dec, 4, 1808, (Sunday.) 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter reached me yesterday, but I find myself 
 too much disordered to do more than thank you for it. I am 
 very sorry that your socks were omitted. The readiest way 
 to supply the defect will be to take mine, which you will 
 find in the upper drawer of my desk, and I will procure 
 others in their room. They are almost new. With respect 
 to the military school, about to be established in Farmville, I 
 should like to know something of its professors before I 
 would consent to your becoming a pupil, even if I approved 
 the institution, tMz c^ I do not. I therefore hope that you 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 55 
 
 will curb your military spirit for the present. If ever you 
 are attached to an army, I hope it will be in the capacity of 
 a surgeon a curer, not an inflictor of wounds. 
 
 Farewell, my dear boy. My love to your sister, your 
 cousin, and Tudor. I am not positively sick; but weak, gid 
 dy, and what is worse (I fear) low-spirited. For this last 
 disease there is unfortunately neither physician nor medi 
 cine. 
 
 Yours, affectionately, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 LETTER XXXV. 
 
 Georgetown, Dec. 11, 1808. 
 Mr DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 ON looking over my letters from home I perceive that 
 your last is dated on the 30th of November. As the several 
 mails afford you three distinct channels for writing every 
 week, I cannot but feel somewhat neglected by you. You 
 complain of the want of a theme; cannot you (to say nothing 
 of family affairs and neighbourhood incidents) give me your 
 opinion of some interesting character whom you have met 
 with in history, or of the historian himself, or any other au 
 thor whom you may have read. Nay, a translation from the 
 Latin and French, alternately, would be acceptable. 
 
 I must request you to hear Tudor a lesson in the Greek 
 grammar every day, and not to permit him to say it until he 
 can repeat it perfectly. I would have you read Horace 
 (with Francis translation) three times a week. With Rus 
 sell s Modern Europe there will be no propriety in mingling 
 ancient history. After you have finished it, you may refresh 
 yourself in ancient history with Rollin, which Tom Murray 
 
56 LETTERS OF 
 
 will lend you, or which you can have sent down from Roan- 
 oke. In reading Russell, I advise you to make a small chro 
 nological table of the most remarkable contemporary events 
 and celebrated men. This will prevent the confusion of 
 mind which skipping from subject to subject, is otherwise 
 almost sure to occasion. You will find Le Sage s Atlas of 
 great benefit, also. In French, I recommend to you Voltaire s 
 History of Russia, if (as I believe) you have not read it. 
 
 My best love to your sister and cousin, and to Tudor. Do 
 not fail to present me, in the most friendly terms, to Doctor 
 and Mrs. R., and Tom, and to our good neighbour Mr. Dil 
 lon, also. When you see Mr. Woodson, make my respects 
 to him, and tell him that my shooting days are, I fear, over. 
 Farewell, my dear Theodore, 
 
 I am your affectionate friend 
 
 and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 THEODORICK BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 I still continue weak and giddy; writing is particularly op 
 pressive to me. I send my sister some more papers. I trust 
 they will serve to amuse her. 
 
 When I inquire whether you have delivered my messages, 
 I hope I shall not have the mortifying answer that you for 
 got to do it. 
 
 LETTER XXXVI. 
 
 House of Representatives, Dec. 19, 1808. 
 Mr DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter was duly received, and I sincerely thank 
 you for it. I have not time, my dear son, to do more, except 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 57 
 
 to request that you will give me some account of the daily 
 and regular employment of your time. Your cousin Judy 
 sends me very flattering accounts of your progress in short- 
 ening, which reminds me to ask you to take out my new 
 double-barrelled gun, on some clear, dry day, and with a 
 small tow wad, on the end of a long ram-rod, wipe the ante 
 chamber dry and clear. 
 
 My love to your cousin, your sister, and Tudor, and be 
 lieve me, with true regard, 
 
 Your friend and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 I send your cousin the last Intelligencer, of this morning s 
 date, and some other interesting papers. The narrative of 
 Don P. Cevallos is well worth perusal. 
 
 Remember me to the Doctor and family. 
 
 LETTER XXXVII. 
 
 Dec. 25, 1808. 
 MY DEAR BOYS, 
 
 You must not think that I neglect you. I have bare 
 ly time to thank you for your letters, and to request that 
 you will continue to write to me, regularly once a week. 
 My health and avocations will, I fear, preclude me from be 
 ing as good a correspondent as I have heretofore been; but 
 you must not mind that. Give my love to your mother, 
 my dear Tudor. I wrote to her by the Orleans mail yester 
 day, (which brought me no letter,) and sent her a book; 
 Scott s Lay of the last Minstrel. Give my love, also, to 
 Sally, my dear Theodore, and to your friends in Tennessee, 
 
 8 
 
58 LETTERS OF 
 
 when you write to them. Enclosed, is a Christmas-box^ 
 which you will divide between you. Adieu, my sons. 
 
 Yours, in haste, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, 
 
 My best regards to the Doctor, Mrs. R., and Tom.* 
 
 LETTER XXXVIII. 
 
 Dec. 30, 1808. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE,. 
 
 I THANK you for your letter, but not for your trans 
 lation. It bears every mark of the hand of negligence, and I 
 beg that I may receive no more of such careless and hurried 
 performances. " Nonum prematur in annum" is the max 
 im of the great Roman critic. I do not see, therefore, why 
 you should not keep your compositions at least half as many 
 days; instead of sending me what you have just scribbled off, 
 in a hurry, without time, perhaps, to read it over once; for 
 I observe that the post mark and date of your letter are the 
 same. It is hard to say whether the Latin or English be most 
 defective. We have " volente" for volentes; " obliquam " 
 for obliquum; " ratae" for rotss, &c. ; besides many words 
 written in an indistinct character, well adapted to conceal in- 
 accuracies of termination. li Junctamq. aquitonibus arc- 
 ton" "and the Dearborn to it on the north," is neither 
 the, sense, nor is it grammar: joined to what ? polem austra- 
 tem? By no means; but exactly the reverse. We do not 
 say "tracks of the wheels;" "track of the wheel" is the 
 coachman s phrase. But the worst is yet to come. " Ut- 
 
 * Young Mr. Murray, who was reading medicine with Dr. Robinson* 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 59 
 
 Jkrant ^EQUOS et ccelum and terra calores;" and as 
 heaven and earth enjoy (or receive) equal heat, which you 
 render "and as both heaven and earth are nourished by the 
 warmth of the horses." Equos for a?quos; but there is no 
 such adjective, as equus. It makes, if I forget not, equinus. 
 Can you believe, too, that you have made an English word 
 of aram? (to satisfy you I enclose the original,) thus: a ram. 
 A ram, too, of all the animals in the world, is, it seems, fe 
 minine; " press Amq. aram," says Ovid; but he, perchance, 
 did not understand Latin. In your next, I flatter myself 
 that you will give me a proof of what you allege in one of 
 your late letters, " that you have grown more attentive than 
 formerly." In this expectation, I remain 
 
 Your affectionate kinsman and friend, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
 I have no objection to your going with your cousin to 
 Clifton. 
 
 LETTER XXXIX. 
 
 Georgetown, Jan. 13, 1809. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter of the 8th reached me this morning. I 
 had anticipated your mortification at the sight of mine, and 
 the translation enclosed in it; nor have I been disappointed. 
 You, my son, I trust, will acquit me of any unnecessary or 
 wanton injury to your feelings, which I would forbear to 
 wound, as if they were my own. It is only to heal, that I 
 would probe. I confidently expect, therefore, by the next 
 post, a proof of the good effect of your own judicious re 
 flections upon the disagreeable subject of my last. Your 
 
60 LETTERS OF 
 
 own good sense, my dear boy, if you give it fair play, 
 backed by industry, will ensure you a competent degree of 
 proficiency in whatsoever pursuit you may engage. But, to 
 choose a more agreeable theme: I am glad to hear, from 
 your cousin Judy, that you did not so suffer from the cold on 
 your journey from Clifton, but that you have been able to 
 enjoy the fine exercise of skating since your return home. 
 You will not fail, I hope, to harden yourself by active ex 
 posure in the open air, against the diseases to which a seden 
 tary life is subject. This may be done without intrenching 
 too much on study. " Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit 
 utile dulci." May you, my dear boy, who are a great 
 marksman, hit this happy medium. I write under conside 
 rable indisposition, and with two gentlemen talking around 
 me, and often TO ME. I must, therefore, ask your excuse 
 for my incoherence, and abrupt conclusion. 
 I am, as ever, 
 
 Your affectionate kinsman and friend, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 THEO. BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 My best regards to Dr. and Mrs. R,, and Tom Murray, 
 and my love to Sally. Have you seen any woodcocks this 
 season? I have not heard of more than one that has "been 
 shot; and that was by Mr. Garnet, just after the meeting of 
 Congress which I saw. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. Gl 
 
 LETTER XL. 
 
 Library of Congress, Jan. 17, 1809. 
 Mv DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter of the 13th arrived this morning, and I 
 trust the apprehension it expresses has been dispelled by my 
 last; although, to say the truth, I was by no means pleased. 
 Your translation bears scarcely any resemblance to its pre 
 decessor; being, with a single exception, literally correct: 
 which proves that when you commit gross errors, it is not 
 from a want of ability to avoid them; and, indeed, impresses 
 me with a belief that, when you choosey you can excel 
 " Labour is necessary to excellence." Without the one, 
 the other never did, nor can exist, in any pursuit of human 
 life. But, to my criticism: invito parenti is improperly 
 rendered by " desponding father." I do not find that 
 invitus is ever used in that sense. Such, certainly, was not 
 Ovid s meaning. " He returns thanks to his reluctant fa 
 ther;" to his father, unwilling to trust him with the cha 
 riot. 
 
 I must still urge you to endeavour to attain that great de 
 sideratum of writing distinctness of character; a more im 
 portant point than you are, perhaps, aware of. The want of 
 it is particularly to be remarked in your writing, where m, 
 n, and u come together. Thus, the word etiamnum is 
 written somewhat like this ctianimun. This proceeds 
 from leaving more space between the members of the same 
 letter than between the letters themselves; and from a very 
 ridiculous, though common practice (I might say affectation) 
 of turning the n and u, in the same way thus, u u. By 
 giving due space between your letters and words, and wri 
 ting uprightly, and with the point of your pen, holding it 
 as nearly perpendicular to the paper as possible, your object 
 will be gained. If you examine print, you will find its 
 great legibility to be owing to the length of the body of the 
 
62 LETTERS OF 
 
 letter, (not of the heads and tails,) and to a regular space 
 preserved between the letters and words, respectively. I 
 am sorry that my example should not comport more with 
 my precept: but my paper is greasy; and, moreover, he 
 who writes ill at twenty, will, at forty, be altogether ille 
 gible. 
 
 I would not mix ancient with modern history: as soon, 
 therefore, as you finish Goldsmith, which is a very concise 
 but admirable compilation, and cannot detain you long, I 
 would stick to Hume and Belsham. I shall bring you Mr. 
 Fox s history when I return home. It is but a fragment 
 but a most precious one. It corrects some important errors 
 of Hume, respecting Charles and James II., who had not 
 (that is Hume) access to the information from which Mr. 
 Fox wrote. 
 
 Adieu, my dear Theodore. 
 
 I am, very truly, yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 THEODORICK BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 My best love to your sister, and cousin Judy, and Tudor. 
 Recall me to the recollection of our neighbours Robinsons 
 and Dillons. 
 
 LETTER XLI. 
 
 Georgetown, June 18, 1809. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 THE Orleans post brought me your letter of the 15th 
 last night, when I was too much occupied to thank you for 
 it. I had barely time to scribble a few lines to your cousin 
 Judyj and, indeed, I have scarcely more leisure to-day. I 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 63 
 
 am, indeed, oppressed with labours, to which my undivided 
 exertions are inadequate. I highly commend the manner in 
 which you speak of your sense of the obligations which you 
 owe your cousin. The sentiment is highly honourable to 
 you, my son; and is, in itself, the noblest return which you 
 could make to the kindnesses which you have received from 
 her. Present her and Sally with my best love. 
 
 Mr. Hall must exercise his own discretion, under the di 
 rection of Mrs. Randolph, in relation to the objects of his 
 duty. I hope that old Caesar has taken all the mares, &c., to 
 Roanoke. 
 
 I enclose you a paper, which, when you have read it ? 
 please to send to our good neighbour Mr. Dillon; and ask 
 him to return those which I have enclosed him, (if he has 
 no use for them,} that you may file them. I hope Louisa 
 does not neglect to sun my clothes, &c.; particularly the pad 
 of my new saddle. Charge her to take care that they are 
 not exposed to rain, or dew. 
 
 God bless you, my son. Continue to write to me; and 
 be a little more copious on the subject of your studies and 
 occupations. Even your sports have an interest for me. 
 Farewell! 
 
 Your friend and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, 
 
 Have you any tidings of my dirk? 
 
64 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER XLII. 
 
 Georgetown, Feb. 12, 1800, 
 Sunday morning. 
 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I THANK you for your letters as marks of your re 
 membrance and regard; but I could wish to see in them evi 
 dences of your reading and observation. Your last, for ex 
 ample, contains only a scanty page, loosely written, in which 
 no mention is made of your studies, and is accompanied (like 
 the two preceding it) by no exercise. Amend this defect, I 
 pray you. 
 
 Did I caution you against mixing ancient with modern his 
 tory? Avoid it, by all means. It is as pernicious as the 
 reading of different histories of the same, or contemporary 
 events, is the reverse. I recommended Rollin, because he will 
 give you a pretty good general notion of the more ancient 
 nations, and a tolerable account of Alexander s successors, 
 concerning whom our compilations are very defective. This 
 outline, however, is not always correct. Of him and Bishop 
 Newton, who wrote on the prophecies, it has been remarked 
 that " both these authors represent Herodotus as a fabler; 
 Xenophon s Cyropaedia," a romance which probably served 
 as the model for Fenelon s Telemachus, "as history; Isai 
 ah s prophecies, as applying to the siege of Babylon, by Cy- 
 ruS) instead of that by Darius; and Darius as having pre 
 ceded Astyages: four notorious and fundamental historical 
 blunders." Indeed, compilations are, generally, but a sort 
 of apology for history. The original authors ought, in all 
 cases, to be consulted, when practicable. Thus, Herodotus, 
 Thucydides, Polybius, and Livy, should be read, in prefer 
 ence to those who have made books, merely by pillaging 
 these invaluable ancients. I have passed a very bad night 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 65 
 
 The pain (in my side, particularly,) is much increased. I 
 must, therefore, bid you farewell. 
 
 I am your friend and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 THEODORICK BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 Take care of the New York Herald, which I enclosed your 
 cousin last night. Remember me kindly to the Doctor and 
 Mrs. Robinson, and Tom Murray, and little Will. Also, to 
 Mr. Dillon. 
 
 There was a sudden change of weather in the course of 
 last night. It is raw and cold. A little snow has fallen, and 
 we are threatened with more. I hope this is the source of 
 my increased pain. Tell your cousin so. My love to her 
 and Sally, and Tudor. 
 
 LETTER XLIII. 
 
 House of Representatives, Feb. 25, 1809. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter (of the 20th, if I mistake not,) was re 
 ceived last night. You speak of not hearing from me, not re 
 collecting that I might, with greater propriety, make the 
 same complaint of you, who are incommoded neither by ill 
 health, nor incessant labour. This is probably the last letter 
 which you will receive from me whilst I remain here. God 
 be praised! our next communication will (with his blessing) 
 be verbal. I rejoice, my dear boy, at the prospect of so soon 
 seeing you all. I have no time to criticise your translation; 
 indeed, I have it not with me. I enclosed you, this morning, 
 a newspaper in French. You may amuse yourself in trans- 
 
 9 
 
66 LETTERS OF 
 
 kting it, and I will compare it with its counterpart, in Eng 
 lish, which I have preserved. The advertisements make a 
 very good exercise, as they abound in idiomatical phrases. I 
 must request you to take notice that the clumsy packets con 
 taining the newspapers are not folded by me, but by a ser 
 vant under my direction. I do this because I would not be 
 instrumental in giving you an awkward habit, which, perhaps, 
 my example might induce you to contract. It is as easy to 
 write a neat, clean hand, (and looking at my lines you may 
 add straight, too,} and to fold papers with exactness and 
 snugness, as to do both in a slovenly way. It is even more 
 conveniently performed, taking less time, trouble, and pa 
 per, as well as occupying less space. For my crooked lines, 
 I must plead that I write in a crowd, and on a surface some 
 what convex. These little circumstances, as they may ap 
 pear to be, are of importance in life. Many a man s success 
 has depended on the folding and superscription of a letter. 
 
 Farewell, my dear Theodore. 
 
 I am your affectionate, but tried, kinsman, 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
 TRANSLATION FROM THE PERSIAN. By Sir Wm. Jones. 
 
 u On parent s knees, a naked, new-born child, 
 Weeping thou satt st, while all around thee smiled! 
 So live, that sinking in thy last, long sleep, 
 Thou then may st smile, while all around thee weep !" 
 
 Show the above to your cousin. My love to Sally, 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 67 
 
 LETTER XLIV. 
 
 Georgetown, April 10, 1809. 
 
 I THANK you, my dear Theodore, for your letter; but I 
 have lost, or, rather, mislaid it amongst the papers which are 
 scattered in confusion over my room; and, although I have 
 searched diligently for nearly an hour, cannot find it. Alas! 
 I am fast growing blind. You were right in your conjec 
 ture, as to the cause of my omitting to write to you the week 
 before last; and the same might now be urged with the great 
 est propriety. 
 
 A new map of North Carolina has lately appeared. It is 
 said to be very accurate; and, in point of engraving and work 
 manship, puts the new map of Virginia to shame. It does 
 honour to its editors Messrs. Price & Strother, and the gen 
 tleman under whose patronage it has been executed David 
 Stone and Peter Brown, esquires. If there are any copies 
 for sale here, I will bring one home for Tudor and yourself. 
 He is a sad fellow, for not writing to me. 
 
 Adieu ! my dear Theodore, 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 Remember me to the Doctor and lady, Tom M., and Ho- 
 dijah; also, to Mr. Dillon. 
 
68 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER XLV. 
 
 House of Representatives, June 24, 1809. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 THE Orleans mail has just brought me your letter of 
 the 22d. I thank you very sincerely for it, and, particular 
 ly, for your meteorological observations; by which, I per 
 ceive, that the weather has been with you such as we have 
 experienced here very wet; and, with the exception of a 
 few days, very hot. My health, nevertheless, has been as 
 good as I have enjoyed for many years. I believe that I 
 have been too busy to find time to be sick. 
 
 Your cousin Judy did very well in recommending Aiken s 
 Letters to you. It is an excellent book. I was in hopes 
 you would have given me some account of the impression 
 made upon you by Homer. It is more than twenty years 
 since I read it, and yet the impression is vivid on my mind. 
 Are you a Greek, or a Trojan? 
 
 This is the last letter which you will receive from me, 
 dated at this place. On Wednesday next, Congress adjourns. 
 I shall direct to you at Roanoke not because I deem the 
 receipt of my few hasty lines of very material consequence, 
 but, because I feel a desire that }^ou should have some me 
 mento of me, if it were only the declaration of my sincere 
 love and friendship for you. I am undecided whether I 
 shall go to Winchester, or not. You shall hear, however, by 
 the next mail. Farewell, my dear son! 
 
 Your fond uncle, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
 From Babel: Saturday, May 24, 1809: half past three 
 o clock, P. M. 
 
 You are, probably, now on the road. I pity you for it 
 is oppressively hot. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 69 
 
 LETTER XLVI. 
 
 RoanoJce, Thursday Night, Aug. 6, 1810. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I HAVE just returned from Mecklenburg court, whi 
 ther I went on Tuesday, leaving Echo confined here, as she 
 was too much fatigued to travel so far. I have just learned 
 that she went off yesterday morning with the chain upon 
 her, and I fear that the poor thing may have got entangled 
 with it so as to prevent her getting along; and, in that condi 
 tion, may be exposed to perish. I cannot express how much 
 I am distressed at this thought. I shall, therefore, despatch 
 Phil, in the morning with this letter in quest of her. 
 
 I fear that Johnny is very ill, from his not having come 
 up. I need not say how much pleasure it would give me to 
 see you here. But, you appear to have (if not a disinclina 
 tion to come) so decided a preference for Bizarre, that T did 
 not choose to put any restraint upon your inclinations. It 
 is not strange that you should prefer the society of your sis 
 ter and cousins to that of a morose old man like myself. 
 Phil, will return with Hyperion. My love to your cousin, 
 Sally, and St. George. 
 
 Your friend and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
 LETTER XLVII. 
 
 Roanoke, Aug. 9, 1810. 
 
 I THANK you very kindly, my dear Theodore, for your 
 attention to Johnny, about whom I cannot help feeling some 
 
70 LETTERS OF 
 
 uneasiness, although I know every care will be taken of him. 
 You acted exactly as I should have done, in sending for Dr, 
 Wilson; and in every other respect better than I could have 
 done. I am obliged to you, also, my dear Theodore, for 
 the intention with which you sent up poor Echo, whose re 
 treat equals that of the ten thousand under Xenophon, al 
 though she is not likely to have so eloquent an historian of 
 her anabasis.* 
 
 I have been very unwell ever since I parted from you. 
 My journey to Mecklenburg did me no good: by the free 
 use of diluting, acidulated drinks, I am somewhat better to 
 day able to ride out. As soon as I am well enough, I shall 
 come down to Bizarre. 
 
 In reply to the supplement to your letter, I need not say 
 that there is no person that I should be more glad to see, at 
 all times, in my house, than yourself; and I believe there is 
 no one in the world that would be happier to see you (no, 
 not even your own father) than, dear Theodore, him who 
 feels like a father towards you. God bless you, my son! 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 MR. THEO. B. DUDLEY. 
 
 I write in the dark. Beverley and Polly reciprocate your 
 good wishes. St. George will inform you of Tudor s ex 
 ploit, which beats that of Xenophon or Echo. I would not 
 have made the experiment for the Bank of Virginia. My 
 best love to your sister. 
 
 * The above paragraph refers to a favourite pointer, who had gone forty 
 miles with a chain attached to her neck: the commencement alludes to a sick 
 servant. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 71 
 
 LETTER XLVIII. 
 
 Roanoke, Monday, Oct. 29, 1810. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter of the 24th arrived last night by the 
 post. I could have wished that it had been a little fuller; 
 but, in your hurried situation, perhaps I ought not to have 
 expected more than a few lines. When you reach Philadel 
 phia, I hope to hear from you often; regularly and fully. I 
 am entittled to your confidence, my son, and let me flatter 
 myself that I shall receive it. If, however, you cannot give 
 it, there is no more to be said; it cannot be forced: like 
 mercy, " its quality is not strained;" like mercy, too, " it is 
 doubly blessed;" but, to be itself, it must flow -freely, vo 
 luntarily: if it do not, it is not confidence but a base 
 counterfeit; it is sheer hypocrisy. It is somewhat unfortu 
 nate for us both, my dear Theodore, that you should have 
 passed so much of your time in a situation where you were 
 exposed to the perils of a " divided duty;" at least, accord 
 ing to your estimate of things. I assure you that nothing, 
 from the commencement of the connexion between us, has 
 given me so much pain, (growing out of it,) as that you 
 should have offered the request, or even importunity , of 
 any person in the world, as a reason for departing from the 
 pointed injunctions of him, who flattered himself he had 
 more weight with you than the whole world besides. I 
 know nothing that I am so anxious you should acquire, 
 as the faculty of saying no. You must calculate on unrea 
 sonable requests being preferred to you every day of your 
 life, and must endeavour to deny with as much facility as 
 you acquiesce. Thus, when that worthless fellow, Farmer, 
 brought Hyperion to Bizarre, and asked you to give a re 
 ceipt for him, you ought to have said " I did not deliver 
 the horse to you, sir, and therefore cannot receive him back. 
 You had better carry him to the place and person where and 
 
72 LETTERS OF 
 
 from whom you got him. At any rate, it is no part of my 
 duty to give you a receipt for him, and I cannot put my 
 name to an important paper merely because you ask it." 
 Rely upon it, my dear fellow, there will never be wanting 
 persons to ask your signature, provided it can be had for ask 
 ing. It is a dangerous thing to put one s name to paper; 
 even to witness an instrument of writing may compel you 
 to go, or subject you to be dragged from Machias to St. 
 Mary s. If you had refused Farmer a receipt, he must have 
 brought the horse here, at his own risk and charge, and it 
 would have appeared that he was diseased; and I have no 
 doubt became so in consequence of abuse. 
 
 By this time I flatter myself you are safely lodged in one 
 of the straight flat streets of our American Birmingham. I 
 am glad to hear that your financial arrangements are all set 
 tled to your satisfaction; although I do not see how you 
 could have been liable to any disappointment in them. Let 
 me caution you to direct the post-master not to deliver your 
 letters to the penny post; but let them lie in the office until 
 called for by yourself, in person. You did not mention whe 
 ther you had met with Tom Murray, or not. Give my best 
 respects to him, and to any other young Virginian of merit, 
 whom I may know, at the medical school. I hope you will 
 be established at a Pension Francaise, and that you will 
 take lessons in fencing and dancing. I am in no fear of 
 your taking the French disease in politics or morals, and 
 wish you to acquire a facility in the language. 
 
 On Wednesday I shot with Mr. Bouldin, and I never saw 
 any pointer behave better than Dido, fetching the birds ex- 
 cepted. I had given her some lessons in the dining-room, 
 and one day s previous practice, by herself. She found the 
 birds in the highest style stood as stanchly as old .Carlo 
 never flushed one, and hunted with the most invincible re 
 solution. She followed the worm of the fence through thick 
 briers, and put up, successively, in each corner, fifteen to 
 twenty birds. 1 was next the river; and, although I could 
 see her, they flew next the field, except two that I killed. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 73 
 
 She was delighted to see them fall, and entered into the spi 
 rit of the sport, fully. She stood at a woodcock, which I 
 killed, (the same, I believe, that escaped us on Friday or Sa 
 turday,) and stood at it after it was killed, as she does at the 
 dead partridges. I have unhreeched my double-barrelled 
 gun, and made a discovery. The antechambers contain only 
 about half the pipe of the flash belonging to it, when re 
 duced to its smallest size; and with that quantity (little more 
 than a priming) she shoots much better at a mark, from thir 
 ty to forty steps, than with the extended pipe full about 
 three times the quantity which I shot when we were toge 
 ther. You know, at Flat Lick, three years ago, Mr. Wood- 
 son said that I had not powder enough, when, in fact, I had 
 twice as much as I ought to have used. Our day s sport con 
 sisted of six brace of partridges, and a woodcock, killed by 
 J. R., and one brace and a hare, by Mr. Bouldin; besides 
 two squirrels, shot flying, by J. R. 
 
 On Saturday a heavy horse, newly shod, with Colonel 
 Clarke on his back, set his foot on mine. The three mid 
 dle toes of the right foot, and the penultimate, are crushed 
 almost to a jelly. That night, spasm ensued; but, from 
 the free use of camphor and opium, I found relief. This 
 morning, in hobbling from the bed to the fire, I hurt it again, 
 and there was a recurrence of cramp, or spasm. It is now 
 easier, and, I hope, will be well by Christmas. I will com 
 pound for that time. 
 
 I heard from Bizarre to-day. All there are well. I shall 
 not be disappointed if a lady of our acquaintance should 
 give her hand to some Calvinistic parson. 
 
 Beverley and Polly desire their best regards to you: so do 
 Carlo, Echo, and Dido; and, also, little Dash, who arrived 
 last night in the wagon. Adieu! dear Theodore. 
 I am ? most sincerely and affectionately, 
 
 Yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 MR. THEO. BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 10 
 
74 LETTERS OF 
 
 Can you procure me some extra long and fine and thick 
 home-manufactured woollen stockings? They should be, at 
 least, three inches longer than the ordinary sized men s 
 stockings, and of the finest wool. The market is a good 
 place to buy them, and is a curiosity that you should exa 
 mine. Direct to Charlotte, C. H., " Roanoke, near Char 
 lotte, C. H., Virginia." 
 
 LETTER XLIX. 
 
 Bizarre, Friday, Nov. 16, 1810. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I GOT here yesterday morning, having been compelled 
 (not more from fatigue and sickness, than from inclination,) 
 to stay the preceding night with Mr. Hoge. St. George and 
 Johnny, who took the other road, came on that night. We 
 found your sister and cousin in good health. 
 
 I am in no situation to write, but 1 cannot resist the incli 
 nation I feel to say something to you, as well as to set you a 
 good example; and yet, what have I to say, that has not been 
 repeated in every possible form, until, at last, it has, perhaps, 
 become stale and nauseous to you. 
 
 Shall I tell you of my Miseries of Human Life ?" Last 
 night I awaked shrieking with pain. It was spasm, occasioned 
 by my wounded foot. The bones of the middle toe are 
 crushed, and the whole member a mass of contusion. I fear 
 I shall have to amputate it at last; (I mean the toe. ) A large 
 dose of opium gave me some unquiet sleep; but, to-day, I am 
 greatly disordered. I have a bad cold and sore throat; but 
 these I do not so much mind: my hip, and the whole thigh 
 and leg are, very painful. I think it must be sciatic. The 
 pain extends along down the inside of the thigh, crosses ob- 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 75 
 
 liquely at the knee, so as to affect rather the outer than in 
 ner side of the knee, and afflicts me beyond expression. I 
 have felt nothing like it since my confinement at Mr. Key s, 
 two winters ago. 
 
 You have not mentioned Messrs. Innskeep & Bradford, 
 or another commission which began in Richmond, and ended 
 in Georgetown. Did you stay at Crawford s? and whom did 
 you see in Richmond. Have you received the second $250, 
 and lodged it in the bank? I want to know all about you; 
 but, from your scanty letters, which look like the forced pro 
 duction of an ungenial climate, I suppose I shall have to glean 
 my intelligence from others, at second or third hand. I see 
 very plainly the error into which you have fallen, and you 
 will see it too, (as I did in my own case,) when too late. 
 Have you read " Manoeuvring " yet. I tell you, (you may 
 believe me or not, just as you please,) you are no match for 
 female adroitness and artifice, even if not seconded by wit, 
 some beauty, and long practice. The love of power, and of 
 admiration, (and the last is subordinate and instrumental to 
 the first,) is woman s ruling passion. Whatever be the af 
 fectation of the day, it is pushed to tte extreme is it timi 
 dity? she shrinks from a mouse; i? it fortitude? she braves 
 Heaven, itself. Read, if you please, Dr Young s Universal 
 Passion; that, I think, is the title of nis satires. Let me 
 know how, and where, and with v-aomyou are lodged; who 
 are your companions, &- I am in great pain. 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 If you make any acquaintances, who know me, tell me 
 who they are, and their present situation in the world. 
 When you write to your mother, inquire if my letter of last 
 winter, enclosing Sally s, reached her. I have a particular 
 reason for wishing to know. 
 
76 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER L. 
 
 Roanoke, Nov. 15, 1807. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter of the 6th, arrived while I was at Bizarre, 
 which place I left yesterday morning. Your cousin, howe 
 ver, received one from you by the same post, by which I was 
 assured of your being well. I am sorry, my son, that any 
 passage, in my letter to you, should have given you uneasiness. 
 I look not for professions from you. You have never given 
 into them, and I have always respected you the more for it. 
 For, as Sir Peter Teazle says, " damn sentiment. " I have 
 been made the victim of it. But I owe it to you, and to my 
 self, to explain the cause which led to the expression, by which 
 you felt youtself hurt, and which, therefore, I regret to have 
 used. 
 
 My situation has been, for some time past, (as you know,) 
 a peculiar one. The persons (yourself excepted) from whom 
 1 had deserved most Whly ; to whom I had dedicated the 
 best years of my life, had withdrawn their confidence from 
 me. To one of these I hao, devoted the prime of my man 
 hood ; another, (I blus^ to tell it!) I loved better than my own 
 soul, or Him who created U ! WUt I merited from the.third, 
 I will not say. Two of them had descended to speak injuri 
 ously, and even falsely, (as it rejected one of those two,) con 
 cerning me. My heart was wounded to the very core. 
 Those persons have since confessed that they were under the 
 influence of paltry irritations, and that, in their dispassionate 
 moments, they never felt or expressed a thought that was in 
 jurious to me. An instance, however, of disingenuousness 
 and want of confidence, the most inexcusable, had lately oc 
 curred in one of them, or, rather, the knowledge of it oc 
 curred to me, for the matter was of some years standing. At 
 this juncture, I received your scanty and meagre letter from 
 Richmond. I attributed its form to the pressure of time, un- 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 77 
 
 til I learned, the day following, that you had written more 
 fully to another. I know that you are under some obligations 
 to that person, (not that they are not reciprocal, for you have 
 made ample returns,) and I applaud your independence in 
 showing it, as well as the sentiment which makes you feel it. 
 But, nevertheless, I was hurt. I know that the only way to 
 deserve the confidence of another, is to give our own ; although 
 that does not always obtain it. It was because I had given 
 you mine, and upon no other score that I felt I had a right to 
 challenge yours. To you I had had no reserve, and I looked 
 not merely for the disclosure of any matter of consequence, 
 in case you had any such to impart, but for a frank commu 
 nication of your opinions and feelings generally. I knew that 
 young persons sometimes distrusted old ones, and I feared it 
 might be your case towards me. I felt unhappy, and, perhaps, 
 was unreasonable. I need say no more on this subject. 
 
 I hope you will make all your notes of lectures, &c., in 
 blank books, and keep a separate one for observations, such as 
 occur to you. I advise a journal. " One word written on 
 the spot ," (as when you go to see any thing worthy of curiosi 
 ty, or make remarks upon the city) is worth a volume of re 
 collections." I recommend you to the Genius of Hipocrates, 
 (not " Hi/pecrates,") and earnestly recommend an attention to 
 Dr. Physick s course. Do not fail to supply yourself with a 
 good collection of medical books. Spare not on account of 
 expense : to these, by next winter, you can add surgical in 
 struments, electrical machine, &c. I should be vexed if you 
 suffered false economy to interfere in a case like this. Let 
 your dress, also, without being foolishly expensive, be that of 
 a gentleman. I need not tell you who lived at Bizarre to be 
 neat. If your teeth require it, have them cleaned and 
 plugged by a dentist. It is an operation that, I think, ought 
 to be performed (cleaning) once or twice a year. 
 
 I hope you will learn to fence, and to dance, also ; and I am 
 very anxious that you should speak French, and read Italian, 
 Spanish, and German : " As many languages as a man knows, 
 
78 LETTERS OF 
 
 so many times is he a man." If you wish it, 1 will send you 
 Dufief. 
 
 Where do you lodge ? Have you made any acquaintances 
 yet ? It may be worth while to attend to the police of the 
 city, the watch, jail, water-works, market, scavengers, &c. 
 I would see a ship launch when practicable. The hospitals, 
 of course, you will be acquainted with : that of Pennsylvania 
 is an honour to the state. 
 
 I am obliged to conclude. 
 
 Yours, in haste, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 Tudor desires to be remembered to you. Your sister was 
 well yesterday ; so were your cousin and St. George. 
 
 LETTER LI. 
 
 Roanoke, Nov. 30, 1810. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I WAS obliged to conclude my last letter very abrupt 
 ly, as there was a pressing necessity for Johnny s setting off 
 to Richmond the instant he could get ready; bitter as the 
 weather was; and such I never knew at the same season. It 
 has proved very hard upon me, hand and foot; the rheuma 
 tism having settled in the first wounded limb, and the nail 
 of the other being in the act of shedding: but, Graces & 
 Dieu, I make a shift to get along without quite as many 
 heart-aches as I have been made to feel by female caprice 
 and affectation. 
 
 You say nothing in your letters of the places you passed 
 through. Did you go through Georgetown? How did you 
 
 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 79 
 
 like the City, and Baltimore? The sight of the Chesapeake 
 must have been a great treat to you. It is a magnificent body 
 of water, and the passage from Newcastle to Philadelphia a 
 most pleasing novelty. I do not like your indifference to 
 the scenes around you: at your age, it is not natural, un 
 less the heart be sad, or melancholy: for which you have, 
 I trust, no cause as yet. What acquaintances have you 
 made, and how do you pass your evenings? Do you go to 
 the theatre, and what is the style of performance? Have 
 you secured your money, and in what bank? and how much 
 more will you want? I should have given you a letter to 
 Mr. Clay, but, he is three, in my debt: although the first 
 of them demanded an immediate answer, and the other two 
 entreated him to furnish it. Under such circumstances, I 
 would not write even to him. 
 
 What say Bradford & Innskeep about the review. Let 
 me advise you, now and then, on a leisure day, to take a 
 saddle-horse from one of the livery-stables, and explore the 
 surrounding country. Lansdowne is well worth seeing so 
 is The Woodlands, Mr. Hamilton s place; if you can obtain 
 an introduction, which I hope you will do through my friend, 
 Doctor Logan, who, I see, has returned from Europe. He 
 resides at Staunton, near Germantown, and is, unquestionably, 
 a true patriot. His family is ancient and respectable, and 
 his own private character, highly so. Between the upper 
 ferry, and the falls of Schuylkill, was my most usual shooting 
 ground; but both banks, as low as Hamburg House, are quite 
 familiar to me. I had like to have forgotten to tell you, that, 
 at a Mr. Bartram s, not far below Gray s ferry, on the left 
 of the road-side, you will find many rare and beautiful trees, 
 and shrubs, particularly some scarce varieties of the pinus 
 tribe. 
 
 Yesterday, just at the south-east corner of my pasture 
 fence, I came upon a fine flock of turkeys. They were 
 going from the ditch, towards the river. I fired, and so did 
 Tudor, but our shot (No. 9,) were too small, and the tur 
 keys flew over the river. Woodcocks are now pretty plea- 
 
80 LETTERS OF 
 
 tiful in the slash, at the Middle Quarter, near the lower big 
 spring: but I made a bungling hand yesterday of killing them, 
 having got only one at four shots. On Sunday I bagged five 
 and a half brace of partridge and lost four. Tudor bagged 
 one and a half. 
 
 The rain prevented my setting out for Bizarre this morn 
 ing. Beverley and his wife desire to be remembered kindly 
 to you, as I do to my old friend Tom. She is a good crea 
 ture as ever breathed; knows nothing of megrims, hartshorn, 
 spirits of lavender, laudanum, nor Jits. By the way, I mean 
 to take out a patent for curing the last: although they be the 
 " true genuine convulsion fits, to be had only of the maker." 
 
 Adieu, dear Theodore. 
 
 I am, and ever shall be, 
 
 Your affectionate friend and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
 I do not like to hear you talk of your temperament being 
 sanguineo melancholic. You have lived too much in the 
 Cave of Spleen, and I must prescribe for you "Pope s Rape 
 of the Lock," to be taken at once, after a cheerful walk, or 
 ride. I am glad you have Tom. Murray for a room-mate. 
 I shall send you a. letter of introduction to Dr. L., as soon 
 as I can procure Jit paper. Have you made any acquain 
 tances, and who are they? What is your street, and num 
 ber? I direct to the post-office, having found the penny 
 post not always punctual, and it will give you exercise. I 
 am glad that the professors mean to be rigid in their exami 
 nations, and shall disregard the expense of three courses at 
 the university, provided you profit by them. You may, 
 thereby, acquire a knowledge of mathematics and natural 
 philosophy, which branches have been neglected in your 
 education; and also, of languages. Send me a catalogue of 
 Bradford s books. Ask, at a respectable jeweller s, the price 
 of sterling plate per ounce, plain, such as spoons, tankards, 
 goblets, and ladles. Direct to Georgetown) Columbia. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 81 
 
 I brought the above letter with me from Roanoke, on Sa 
 turday last; you will receive a reply to yours of the ninth of 
 last month, by this post. 
 
 Thursday Night, Dec. 4, 1810. 
 
 LETTER LIL 
 
 Roanoke, Dec. 18, 1810. 
 
 Tuesday. 
 Mr DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 IT has not been in my power to answer your letter of 
 the 2d, by return of post. I was worn out with fatigue, and 
 benumbed with cold, (having been the whole day survey 
 ing,) when I received it. 
 
 I am sorry that your inmates are Virginians. You will 
 lose one of the great advantages of travel, by associating 
 only with people the " accent of whose minds, as well as 
 tongues," are like your own. Endeavour to associate with 
 young men from the other states from whom you may learn 
 something, and they also from you. Your money will not 
 be sufficient, and I shall send you a farther supply. Do not, 
 my dear boy, attempt too much at once: festina tente. If 
 you have not time for fencing, discharge your master after 
 the quarter shall expire. Your object is not to become a gla 
 diator, but to learn the use of arms and that a few lessons 
 will teach you; practice must do the rest. I would, also, 
 advise laying aside the clarionet pro tern. You have, I be 
 lieve, a turn for music, and it is an art that I would wish 
 you to excel in, if possible; but any thing short of excel 
 lence (especially on the clarionet or violin) is execrable. 
 There are squabbles and intrigues in the College of which 
 you ought to keep clear. Barton and Rush are at war. The 
 
 11 
 
82 LETTERS OF 
 
 fact is, that Barton s (on Materia Medico] is one of the 
 most useful and instructive courses; Wistar s is indispensa 
 ble so is Coxe s (if he be. a chemist) and Physick s. The 
 rest are catch-pennies, and teach nothing that cannot be bet 
 ter learned without lecturing. He who has access to the 
 best authors, and, particularly, to the latest periodical publi 
 cations on medicine, knows all that Rush, &c., can teach, 
 without being frozen to death, or stifled in a human bath, 
 in a lecture room: but then there would be no jobs for pro 
 fessors. The "graduation is of the same stamp. 
 
 I thank you, my dear Theodore, for your kind wishes 
 about my health. My hand is nearly well to appearance; 
 but subject to severe rheumatic affection, particularly on ex 
 posure to cold: neither have I any strength in it. Its pow 
 ers cease on a sudden, and things, which from habit I take 
 in my right hand, involuntarily drop from it. 
 
 This is probably the last letter you will receive from me 
 until I reach Washington. Tudor and Carter Coupland are 
 here both well; and desire to be remembered to you. Car 
 ter sends his love to his brother. Remember me to Tom. 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 MR. T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
 Your sister was well on Saturday, the 15th. Have you 
 read "Manoeuvring?" Why buy two copies of Mitford ? 
 If you buy what you have no use for, you always pay dearly, 
 be the price what it may. Do not attend auctions: they are 
 bad schools, and worthless commodities are palmed off upon 
 the unwary. Go, with Dr. Johnson, to "a stately shop." 
 Cannot Innskeep & Bradford furnish me with the remaining 
 numbers of the Edinburgh Review, bound. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 83 
 
 LETTER LIIL 
 
 Roanoke, Dec. 24, 1810. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 You receive another letter from Roanoke, which I 
 can now confidently say will be the last this winter from the 
 same place: not that I have any thing to say, except to ex 
 press my anxiety to have you again with me. You know 
 not, my son, how dear you are, and how justly dear, to me. 
 The only instances (and they are hut two) in which I have 
 thought of you with disapprobation, have been produced by 
 persons far deeper than either of us in the art of stage ef 
 fect. 
 
 Put me in mind, and I will explain this allusion to you 
 when we meet: mean while, may God bless you. 
 Yours, ever, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 Your sister was well on Friday, the 21st. 
 
 LETTER LIV. 
 
 Georgetown, Feb. 4, 1811. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 IN consequence of what Lord Chatham would style 
 a " parliamentary debauch," I am laid up with sciatic, lum 
 bago, and a defluxion on my head, that hardly permit me to 
 write. I have received from your good sister Fanny, a let 
 ter of the most grateful kind to my feelings. When you 
 write to her, assure her that I put a proper value upon the 
 
84 LETTERS OF 
 
 approbation of so good a heart as I have every reason to be 
 lieve hers to be. I shall write to her myself, as soon as I 
 am able. Pray let me know how your finances stand affect 
 ed, as I wish to transmit you a draft on the Bank of the 
 United States, when I get abroad again. I write in extreme 
 pain: my breast, within the last two minutes, having been 
 greatly affected. 
 
 Your affectionate friend and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 LETTER LV. 
 
 Georgetown, Feb. 23, 1811. 
 Mr DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I AM extremely concerned to learn that you are so se 
 riously unwell. Take care of yourself, I pray. My own 
 health is far from being good, and I fear that my spirits are 
 yet worse. I enclosed your letter to your sister as soon as 
 I received it. 
 
 As there is little probability of the navigation being open 
 by that time, I would suggest whether, when you leave Phi 
 ladelphia, it would not be more advisable to come by the way 
 of Lancaster and York, to Baltimore: the distance is about 
 thirty miles farther, but the time nearly the same; and you 
 will have the advantage of seeing a new and more interesting 
 country. 
 
 God bless you, my dear boy. I am, with the sincerest re 
 gard, 
 
 Your friend and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 Remember me kindly to Tom Murray. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 85 
 
 I have heard from Dr. L., in answer to my last, enclosed 
 to you. 
 
 LETTER LVI. 
 
 Washington, Wednesday, Feb. 27, 1811. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 THE house sat last night until a very late hour. Some 
 gentlemen a party of medical students, I presume during 
 my absence, called at the Union tavern, on their way to Alex 
 andria, and informed my servant that they had left you very 
 ill in Philadelphia, on Sunday morning. I hope, my son, that 
 it may be an exaggeration of the information contained in 
 your last letter. But should this, unhappily, not be the case, I 
 beg that you will employ the pen of our friend Thomas Mur 
 ray, to let me know your real situation. 
 Your anxious friend, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 Mr. THEO. BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 LETTER LVII. 
 
 Dr. Brockenbrough s, Richmond, 
 
 March 16, 1811. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I REACHED this place on Thursday evening, (the 14th,) 
 after a fatiguing ride, from the unseasonable heat of the 
 
86 LETTERS OF 
 
 weather. On the water it must have been delightful, and, 
 no doubt, you had a pleasant passage back to Philadelphia; for 
 there has been a succession of fine warm days, ever since we 
 parted in Baltimore. I write, not so much because I have 
 any thing interesting to communicate, as because I flatter my 
 self my movements are not entirely indifferent to you. I 
 hope, as soon as you get resettled, you will give me a full 
 account of your situation; not forgetting your number, as well 
 as street, and the manner in which you pass your time. I 
 was overtaken, at the White Chimnies, by Mr. Morton and 
 Mr. Allen of Prince Edward; who, I presume, have gone on. 
 Pray call on Mr. Clay, and present him my cordial respects. 
 Your friend and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 Remember me kindly to Tom Murray. 
 
 LETTER LVIII. 
 
 Blake Woodsorfs, April 11, 1811. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 BY mere accident, I obtained your letter of the 29th 
 of March, from the Farmville post-office, on Sunday last, (the 
 7th.) I arrived at Mr. Dillon s the day before, on my way 
 to Buckingham court Mrs. Randolph being gone to Clifton, 
 and St. George, unknown to me, to Roanoke. He accom 
 panied his mother to Mr. Harrison s; returned, and went up, 
 on Sunday morning. Sally divides her time between Mr. 
 Dillon s and Major Morton s families. I called yesterday, at 
 the latter place, on my way from Buckingham court, to see 
 her, and am sorry to tell you that I found her very unwell, 
 having been seized with a sick stomach and fever the day be- 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 87 
 
 fore. It appears to me to be a slight case of bilious affection, 
 and you may rest assured that every thing that kindness and 
 good nursing can effect for her, is, and will be done. My 
 engagement here obliged me to leave her, but I am just going 
 to see her this morning. 
 
 Mr. Eppes obtained a majority of one vote over me at 
 Buckingham. This was owing to my visit to Baltimore, in 
 the first instance; but, principally, to the activity of the three 
 candidates, who were all opposed to me, as well as the return 
 ing officer. There were also a great many bad votes, and a 
 very thin election: the votes being, for E. 199, R. 198. The 
 polls were closed by half past three, at the very nick of time for 
 my adversaries, the votes of the candidates and clerks putting 
 him, for the first time, a-head. The mail, on Saturday night, 
 was loaded with hand-bills, containing the most infamous li 
 bels against me. 
 
 Present me, very respectfully, to Capt. Murray and Mrs. 
 Rush. She is a fine woman, whom I very much admired 
 when she was Miss Murray. My best regards to Mr. Clay, 
 and give him all the intelligence respecting the election that 
 this letter contains. I will write again soon, when I have 
 more leisure, and better implements. 
 
 Your affectionate friend and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 P. S. In 1809, the vote of Buckingham was for R. 379; 
 Baker, 197. 
 
88 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER LIX. 
 
 Roanoke, July 7, 1811. 
 
 Sunday. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR truly welcome letter arrived just as I was sit 
 ting down to dinner. I know not when I have experienced 
 more heartfelt pleasure than the perusal of it afforded 
 me. The expression of your grateful affection is the most 
 acceptable offering that could have been presented to my 
 heart; nor would I exchange it, my son, for the applause of 
 the million. Be assured, my dear boy, that I find in your 
 friendship, and in your worth, ample compensation for the 
 services that I may have had it in my power to render you. 
 Like yourself, " I have always considered them as a matter 
 of course, because I have thought of you as of a " son. Let 
 me entreat you, therefore, not to purchase at too dear a 
 price, to us bothy the acquisition of professional knowledge. 
 How I wish you were with me; or that you had one of my 
 numerous idle horses to exercise upon. This spot is, I be 
 lieve, very healthy, and the water remarkably fine and plen 
 tiful: our well having returned to its allegiance. I find my 
 self better here than any where else. I returned yesterday 
 from an excursion to Halifax, where the 4th of July was 
 celebrated without toasts, and no man got " patriotically 
 drunk," like the upholsterer in the play, "for the good of 
 his country." 
 
 I am very much disappointed that you have not received 
 the remittance I spoke of through Mr. R. I will ride out 
 to-morrow, and try and procure you some money, noting 
 the amount at the foot of this letter. Should I fail, which 
 I think very improbable, show this letter to Mr. Clay, who 
 will advance you one hundred and fifty dollars for me for 
 ten days. Pray ask him to write to me immediately, and 
 let me know his opinion of the late disclosure of the ex- 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 89 
 
 secretary of state. Like yourself, I fancy many others be 
 gin to apply the proverb. 
 
 Enclosed is a letter which I must beg you to present, in 
 person, if Mr. W. be in Philadelphia. I hope you will not 
 give up your jaunt into the country. Take care of your 
 health, I beseech you, and be particular in every letter in 
 your account of it. 
 
 Have you seen my picture of Mr. Clay? Is it a good 
 likeness? I found St. George and Tudor both here on my 
 return from Halifax. They are a great solace to me in my 
 solitary condition, and both desire their best love to you. 
 Their inquiries after your health were anxious and pressing. 
 St. George left your sister and cousin well on Thursday, the 
 4th. Mrs. Hackley was at Bizarre. Poor Mr. Dillon has 
 been very ill. Farewell, until to-morrow. 
 I am, dearest Theodore, 
 
 Your truly affectionate friend and uncle, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 MR. T. BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 I am much better to-night. Yesterday was seriously ill; 
 hardly able to sit on my horse as I came home. 
 
 Bank of Virginia, $100; No. 6. B. to Robert Bache; 
 2d Jan. 1810. Same Bank, $50; D. No. 1309. to Roger 
 Nelson; 13th Dec. 1809. 
 
 Notes of the above description are enclosed within. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 Monday Morning. 
 
 12 
 
90 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER LX. 
 
 Monday, Roanoke, July 15, 1811. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 ON my return from Halifax last night, on a visit with 
 Mr. Watldns Leigh to his brother William, I found your 
 letter of the 7th. By this time, I trust, you are released 
 from the heat, and dust, and filth of Philadelphia, and are 
 enjoying in one of the villages of New Jersey, the last fa 
 vourable change in the weather. By the last post, I enclosed 
 you $150, in two Virginia Bank notes: (namely, $100, No. 6; 
 B., payable to Robert Bache, 2d January, 1810. $50, D. 
 No. 1309, Roger Nelson, 13th December, 1809;) which, I 
 hope, came safely to hand. I enclosed, also, to your care, 
 a letter to Mr. Robert Walsh, which, I hope, you will de 
 liver by your own hand. 
 
 The weather here has been oppressively hot, until Wednes 
 day last much less so, however, than with you. I have 
 not noticed the thermometer higher than eighty-seven and a 
 half degrees, although I am persuaded it has been above that 
 point. I went from home, sick, and I have returned worse. 
 Last night I ventured on twelve grains of calomel, per se, 
 and a miserable night I have had of it. I have got rid, how 
 ever, of much bile; and, probably, escaped cholera, or jaun 
 dice. I had symptoms of both: great nausea, and yellow 
 tinge of the eye and skin. I have exposed myself, without 
 reserve to the sun and dews in the low grounds, since the 
 beginning of summer. St. George returned to Bizarre, on 
 Wednesday. Tudor went down, also, a day or two after 
 wards. Mr. L. has gone to Lexington, Staunton, &c. I am 
 quite alone, Beverley not having returned from Staunton. 
 Indeed, when he is here, I have nothing of his company, 
 unless at meals, and not always then; so that I am less sensi 
 ble of solitude now, than I shall be on his return. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 91 
 
 I shall direct this letter to Mr. Clay, to whom present my 
 warmest regards. 
 
 Yours, in sickness and in health, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
 I see by the papers, eight deaths in one week from cold 
 water, in Philadelphia alone. 
 
 My respectful compliments to Mrs. Rush, Mr. Croskey, 
 and Mr. Clay. Shake Randolph by the hand for me. Put 
 Mr. Clay in mind of his intention to write to me. I wish 
 you had called on Mr. Cooper. 
 
 LETTER LXI. 
 
 Roanoke, July 18, 1811. 
 
 Thursday. 
 Mr DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I WROTE you a few lines on Monday, when I was 
 greatly disordered. Thank Heaven, I .am now somewhat 
 better, although still discomposed. Tudor came up, last night, 
 from Bizarre; he left your sister very well, but he says his 
 mother is complaining. He will go to school to-day, and I 
 shall revert back to my solitary state. You sometimes com 
 plain of want of matter for a letter, and yet you mentioned 
 but a word of Cooke and Cooper; and that not until I had 
 questioned you about them: this is almost vexatious; espe 
 cially to me, who consider it as one of the great privations of 
 my life, the not having seen Cooke. With such various no 
 velties around you, I cannot see how you find any difficulty 
 in filling a sheet 
 
 I cannot sufficiently thank my good friend Clay for his 
 
92 LETTERS OF 
 
 kind attentions to you. You, however, will not fail to de 
 monstrate to him and his whole family, your sense of their 
 kindness towards you; for, I am sure, you are the last person 
 in the world, who would prove insensible to such good 
 offices. Commend me, heartily, to Mrs. Clay, Mr. Croskey, 
 my name-sake, and Mrs. Rush; and, I pray you, be less caus 
 tic in your future communications. 
 
 Entirely yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 Query What is a "full new-moon?" 
 (( Inexpressible." 
 
 "Torpowr." This word has not, like honour, &c., been 
 derived to us through the French. Indeed, it is yet Latin. 
 "From there" from thence. 
 
 LETTER LXIL 
 
 Roanoke, Sunday Afternoon, July 21, 1811. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I SCRIBBLED a few lines on Thursday last. To-day, 
 I am greeted by your welcome letter of the 14th, (this day 
 week,) informing me of the safe receipt of my last remittance; 
 but I have no letter from Mr. Clay. I am, however, well 
 pleased that he amply overpays me, in his attentions to you, 
 for his neglect of myself. I need not enjoin upon you to cul 
 tivate his valuable friendship. It is a source of the truest en 
 joyment to me, that you find in him all that I had flattered 
 myself he would prove to you; more he could not be. Why, 
 my dear son, did you suffer Dr. B. to pass you? You ought 
 to have made up to him and Mrs. B., who could not have ex 
 pected to meet with you, and, therefore, did not observe you. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 93 
 
 Do you not know that they are two of the best friends that I 
 have in the world, and, therefore, friends of yours ? They 
 will be mortified when they learn how they missed of you. 
 I am rejoiced to perceive that, although still languid, you 
 are visibly better than when your penultimate letter was de 
 spatched: go on, and improve in health; in every thing else 
 you are what I wish you to be except a little defect, of ab 
 sence, or inattention. When you write, look over my let 
 ters and answer them, instead of omitting, sometimes, topics 
 that are interesting to me. I am glad to tell you that (two 
 sleepless nights, notwithstanding,) I am generally amended in 
 health since this day week. I shall begin with Dr. Rush 
 to extol calomel as the "Samson of Medicine!" I was 
 obliged, however, to resume my flannels. 
 
 The four last days have been very sultry, and attended 
 with heavy rains, to the very material injury of my crop of 
 tobacco. I shall lose one-half of it, and the remainder great 
 ly damaged. I hope you will not be in fault if you are not 
 well acquainted with Mr. W . He is a literary charac 
 ter rare, even in your quarter of the United States. I have 
 a letter from Mr. Dillon. He has been very ill; taken in Pe 
 tersburg, where Dr. R., probably, saved his life. 
 
 I expect Mr. Macon and Mr. R. Jones here in the course 
 of this week. 
 
 Yours, entirely, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 The wet weather has destroyed many broods of young par 
 tridges. Can you get any of Pigon & Andrews, in Philadel 
 phia. 
 
 Thermometer at 84, 3 o clock, P. M. 
 
 Messrs. Wm. Watkins, Bouldin, and Beverley, (who re 
 turned on Friday evening,) have just set out for Halifax 
 Court. Tom Murray (I hear) is about to settle in Campbell. 
 
 My best regards to Mr. and Mrs. Clay, and Mr. Croskey. 
 Love to godson Randolph, and respectful compliments to 
 Mrs. Rush, She is, indeed, a fine woman; one for whom I 
 
94 LETTERS OF 
 
 have felt a true regard, unmixed with the foible of another 
 passion. Fortunately, or unfortunately for me, when I knew 
 her, " I bore a charmed heart/ 7 Nothing else could have 
 preserved me from the/w// force of her attractions. I want 
 to hear more of the picture, (Mr. Clay s,) and I want to 
 see it. 
 
 No prospect of fair weather. Where are the Yellow 
 Springs? Are they those mentioned in the port-folio? 
 
 Monday Morning, 22d. 
 
 Since I wrote yesterday evening, we have had a great fall 
 of rain. The weather continues cloudy, and the atmosphere 
 we breathe seems to be water itself at least, vapour. I must 
 ascribe much of my relief to the resumption of flannels, which 
 I put on in the night of the 14th, (Sunday,) just as the calo 
 mel was beginning to operate. I had lain them aside on the 
 4th, and my health, then bad, grew rapidly worse, until the 
 22d, when my complaint seemed to take a turn. Be parti 
 cular respecting your health. 
 
 LETTER LXIII. 
 
 Roanoke, Aug. 11, 1811. 
 
 Friday. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 THE last mail brought me no letter from you, from 
 which I infer you have left the city, and I sincerely hope you 
 will not return to it until there is a frost. The post neglected 
 to call for my letters, by which means I shall be a week in 
 arrear. Why, my dear boy, do you omit all mention of your 
 health, strength, and feelings. Remember, I beseech you, 
 how anxious I am upon these subjects, and all others which 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 95 
 
 concern you, personally. Do not forget to jog the memory 
 of my friend Clay, about writing to me. 
 
 Mr. Brown, of Halifax, N. C., and Mr. R. H. Jones, of 
 Warrentown, left me yesterday morning. They had been 
 here since this day week, and confidently expected to see Mr. 
 Macon, who had appointed to meet them here on the 25th of 
 July ; but he did not come, to our great disappointment. It is 
 greatly to be feared that he is sick. Tudor just now came 
 over from Mr. Rice s. He is well, and requests to be remem 
 bered kindly to you. My health is so bad that I despair of 
 making you understand the state of it. The digestive facul 
 ty is gone, and the whole nervous system shattered. Life is, 
 indeed, for the most part, to me, a burden. We have had 
 many very heavy rains within the last ten days. The crops 
 on the small streams are destroyed; and, indeed, the tobacco- 
 is every where firing. 
 
 Adieu! my son. 
 
 Yours, 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 I killed a woodcock on the 24th of July. 
 
 LETTER LXIV. 
 
 Roanoke, Sunday Evening, Aug. 4, 1811. 
 THIS day s post has brought me your welcome letter of the 
 24th of July. That which you wrote from Bowen s tavern, 
 has not yet come to hand. I am pleased to see that you are 
 forming an acquaintance with so respectable a family as that 
 of Mr. Walsh. Make my respects to him, and assure him 
 that I sympathize in mind, as well as in body, with his cruel 
 disease. I trust that he will not fail to profit of the judicious 
 
96 LETTERS OF 
 
 advice, for which I am greatly obliged to him. It would give 
 me great pleasure to renew my old acquaintance in Philadel 
 phia, and form a new one with a few of its worthy inhabi 
 tants. I have, however, but three months to stay at home, 
 and many embarrassing affairs to attend to. Among them, 
 the suit of that superlative villain, Hall, who has treated Mr. 
 Coles, if possible, worse than he behaved to me. 
 
 1 wish you good sport with Mr. Ashmead s gun. I saw a 
 woodcock yesterday, and sent Tudor to the house for the 
 gun; but we could not spring it a second time. He left me, 
 since dinner, for school. My health is worse than ever. 
 
 My best regards to Mr. Clay and family. 
 
 Truly, yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 It still rains. My corn crop, alone, is good; tobacco de 
 stroyed. 
 
 It delights me to see upon what terms you are with Mr. 
 Clay s family. Why does he not write to me? Do you hear 
 any thing of Dr. Gibson? or Mr. Sterrett Ridgely? or Mr. 
 Nicholson? Have you seen Mr. Cooper? Reply to these 
 inquiries. Are the Yellow Springs in Bucks county, and 
 how far from Philadelphia? 
 
 Simon has just come to tell me that Euston has broken his 
 fore leg! 
 
 LETTER LXV. 
 
 Monday, Roanoke, Aug. 12, 181L 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter from "the Ship" did not arrive until 
 yesterday, having been sent by mistake to Clarksbury, in 
 Harrison County, instead of Charlotte, C. H. I am disap- 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 97 
 
 pointed at not receiving one of a later date, and I was not 
 without a hope of hearing from Mr. Clay. I am much 
 obliged to you for your description of the country around, 
 (or, rather, on this side of,) Downingtown: such accounts of 
 the places, persons, &c., you may see, are very acceptable, 
 because they indicate a spirit of observation. There are 
 many who look and do not see, while some see without look 
 ing. Indolence and indifference, the maladie du pays (of 
 Virginia,) are more injurious to the eye-sight than candle 
 light, and the smallest print. By the way, you have never 
 mentioned any preacher, or other public speaker, whom you 
 have heard in Philadelphia. Mr. Hoge forms a standard of 
 comparison, by which you might give me your opinion of 
 Messrs. Alexander, Green, or Smith. 
 
 I had thought the Yellow Springs had been a newly dis 
 covered watering-place; but, I find them laid down in a map 
 published in 1775, in Pikeland Township, on Pickering s 
 creek, a water of Schuylkill. They are placed a few miles 
 to the north-east of the "Ship tavern," which is also laid 
 down; but, I presume, that cannot be the correct course. I 
 am greatly pleased to learn that your strength and spirits are 
 recruiting, and I highly approve of your pedestrian essays: 
 but choose not Virginians for your companions. I have no 
 doubt that many of the medical students of the south, leave 
 Philadelphia as ignorant of every thing worthy to be known 
 in that city, as when they entered it. This arises from a 
 clannish spirit, which makes them associate exclusively with 
 one another, and foster their ridiculous prejudices against the 
 people of the middle and northern states, of whom, in fact, 
 they know nothing. 
 
 St. George came up on Saturday. He left your sister in 
 good health: she is staying with Mrs. Dillon, (Mr. D. is 
 gone to the Warm Springs in Bath County,) during your 
 cousin s absence, who is gone to Staunton. Tudor returned 
 last evening to school: he came with his mother from Mr. 
 Rice s. Carter Coupland became a member of my family 
 a few days since. Some society was indispensable to me, 
 
 13 
 
98 LETTERS OF 
 
 and he is a well-disposed boy, who, I trust, will relieve, in 
 some degree, my uncomfortable situation. Beverley is at 
 Staunton, with his wife. 
 
 Since my last, it has rained almost daily. My crop (corn 
 excepted) is ruined, and my last year s crop of tobacco, good 
 for nothing. 
 
 Tell Mr. Clay that I have just heard from Mr. and Mrs. 
 Bryan, and that they are very well. I hope you will not 
 neglect your friend Dr. Logan. Farewell, my dear Theo 
 dore. I long to see you once more. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 Mr. T. BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 St. George has turned an ivory chess-man (a castle,) supe 
 rior to the European model. He shakes you by the hand. 
 
 LETTER LXVI. 
 
 Mr. Bruce s, Halifax, Aug. 25, 1811. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 MY solicitude was such to hear from you, that I sent 
 Jupiter down this morning to Roanoke for my letters. He 
 returned with the post-boy, and brought your two letters of 
 the 16th and 19th. You may guess what my anxiety is on 
 the subject of Mr. Clay. I shall be on thorns until the ar 
 rival of the next mail. The best medical aid is near him. 
 Why does he not call in Wistar? Press him to do it, and 
 tell him that, indeed, " I cannot afford to lose any of my 
 
 real friends" especially, . I am much concerned, 
 
 too, my dear son, on your subject. I know not how to con 
 vey to your bosom what I feel. I must insist upon your 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 99 
 
 abandoning study entirely, for the present. Consult Dr. 
 Wistar seriously, and take his advice. If it be to come 
 home, let nothing but Mr. Clay keep you in Philadelphia. 
 There has been a sudden change in the weather since Thurs 
 day, which, I trust, has somewhat relieved you. On the day 
 on which you wrote, I heard Dr. Alexander, at Charlotte, 
 C. H. 
 
 I thank you for your extracts from your journal, and am 
 pleased to see that the ladies come in for a share of your 
 time. You had informed me of your having left the picture 
 in Baltimore. I have no option but to send this letter or 
 none. I shall make you a remittance in a few days. 
 
 Yours, entirely, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 St. George is with me, and desires his love to you. 
 Take care of yourself, I beseech you. Keep your mind 
 as undisturbed as possible. 
 
 LETTER LXVII. 
 
 Charlotte, C. H., Sept. 2, 1811. 
 
 Court-day. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I LEAVE you to judge of the state of my feelings, 
 when I tell you that I rode thirty miles through the rain 
 yesterday, for the sake of hearing of Mr. Clay s situation, 
 and find no letter from you. My uneasiness on both your 
 accounts was such, that I determined to absent myself from 
 home until the post-day should come round again. I am 
 now to conclude that you are worn down with watching our 
 friend, and that both of you, perhaps, are in extremity of 
 
100 LETTERS OF 
 
 illness. I beseech you leave me not in. this suspense; and, 
 if unable to write, get Mr. Croskey to tell me, in three 
 words, how you and Mr. Clay are. I intended to have set 
 off to-day for the Warm Springs; but must defer it, and en 
 counter another week of suspense and wretchedness. Take 
 Wistar s advice for yourself, and call him in for Mr. Clay. 
 If he be convalescent, tell him I take it unkindly that he did 
 not cause one line to be transmitted me by the post. 
 
 I heard our reverend friend, Dr. Hoge, preach one of his 
 best sermons yesterday, from Luke xxiv. verse 44: he read, 
 however, from the 13th to the 47th verse, inclusive. I wish 
 you could have heard his discourse. It was equally argu 
 mentative and pathetic. My best affections to Mr. Clay. 
 If the worst should happen, 1 must try and prevail upon his 
 mother to intrust Randolph to me. My last will direct you 
 how to proceed. 
 
 Yours, affectionately, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
 LETTER LXVIII. 
 
 Roanoke, Sept. 3, 1811. 
 
 Tuesday. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 AFTER I had written to you yesterday, your letter 
 to St. George, of the 22d of August, was brought (late at 
 night) from Mr. Rice s, whither it had been sent with some 
 of my own, for what reason I cannot conjecture. I beg of 
 you, my son, not to expose me again to similar casualty for 
 St. George s stay with me is quite uncertain; being inter 
 rupted every two or three days by his necessary attention 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 101 
 
 to his mother s business. She is in Staunton. I am relieved 
 at finding that Mr. Clay is not worse, and that you are not 
 yet exhausted by nursing. May He who alone has the 
 power, watch over and protect you both. At the same time 
 that your letter to St. George arrived, I received one from 
 Mr. Dillon, and infer from his silence that your sister is well. 
 If my accounts by the next post are not more satisfactory, I 
 shall, forthwith, set out for Philadelphia. I can bear any 
 thing better than suspense. There is no fault more com 
 mon, or more to be avoided, than egotism. But is it ego 
 tism to tell an anxious friend the state of our health? I am 
 glad that my good friend, Dr. Brockenbrough, found you 
 out. Cherish the acquaintance of that man. " He is not as 
 other men are." 
 
 I perceive some trips in your orthgraphy: for example, 
 " benijicial," which, I own, surprised me; the etymon be 
 ing a safe director: " allways:" " loose," the adjective, or 
 imperative, for lose. 
 
 Mr. Hackley has sent me two Spanish pointers one dou 
 ble-nosed the only one, of that species, to be procured. 
 However, I question if they are better than Echo, or Dido, 
 whom old Carlo is now guarding with a Spaniard s jealousy. 
 
 St. George goes down to-morrow, which enables me to 
 send this scratch in time for the Genito mail. Tell my 
 friend Clay that my heart is with you both. 
 
 God bless you ! my son. 
 
 Yours, most truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
102 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER LXIX. 
 
 Roanoke, Sept. 8, 1811. 
 
 Sunday. 
 My DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letters have just arrived. I opened one from 
 Dr. Brockenbrough, in the first instance, and from it received 
 the afflicting intelligence.* It dropped from my hands as if 
 I had touched a living fire-brand. I cannot tell you what I 
 feel. I could not, if I knew myself. But I do not. I am 
 stupefied. I do not know what I am about. I will try and 
 write again to-morrow. Say to Mrs. Clay, what I could not 
 if I were with her. I could only wring her hand, and min 
 gle my tears with hers. I feel a sense of suffocation about 
 my heart. I thank God that you were with him: that you 
 could do all that could be done; that I would have tried to 
 do if I had been there. My dear son, I can write no more. 
 I will endeavour to write again. 
 
 Yours, unalterably, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 I consider Randolph as my son. 
 
 * The death of his friend, Mr. Joseph Clay, of Philadelphia. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 103 
 
 LETTER LXX. 
 
 Roanoke, Sept. 15, 1811. 
 
 Sunday. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 THE post has arrived, and brought no letter from 
 you. You may judge my anxiety by reversing the case, 
 and making it your own. My house is a perfect hospital. 
 Mr. Curd * lies up stairs, at the point of death, with malignant 
 fever. I have scarcely any hopes of his recovery. Jupiter 
 has been very ill, and in this harassed situation, Carter Coup- 
 land excepted, I have not had the assistance of any person 
 besides my own people. Dr. Merry has, indeed, attended 
 with much solicitude: Curd has now been ill nearly a fort 
 night. 
 
 The lectures are so near commencing, that I would not 
 have you leave Philadelphia unless your health should re 
 quire the measure; of that Dr. Wistar will be the best judge, 
 and to it I would have you sacrifice every other considera 
 tion. 
 
 I scarcely know what I write. Beverley is in Staunton, 
 and has not been here two days, together, since about the 1st 
 of July. Farewell, my son! Say all that is proper for me 
 to Mrs. Clay and Mr. Ashmead s family. 
 Your affectionate kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 Your sister was well on Tuesday last. 
 * His overseer. 
 
104 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER LXXI. 
 
 Roanoke, Sept. 22, 181 L 
 
 Sunday. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 THE post-boy has just now brought your two letters 
 of the 10th and 14th of this month. They have relieved 
 my mind from the uneasiness produced by not hearing from 
 you last week. Indeed, my attention had been, in some 
 measure, distracted by the scene of distress which my house 
 has exhibited for some time past. Mr. Curd breathed his 
 last on Thursday morning, half past three o clock, after a 
 most severe illness, which lasted sixteen days. I insisted 
 upon his coming up here, where he had every possible aid 
 that the best medical advice and most assiduous nursing could 
 afford him. During the last week of his sickness, I was ne 
 ver absent from the house but twice, about an hour each 
 time, for air and exercise: I sat up with him, and gave him 
 almost all his medicines, with my own hand, and saw that 
 every possible attention was paid to him. This is, to me, an 
 unspeakable comfort; and it pleased God to support me un 
 der this trying scene, by granting me better health than I 
 had experienced for seven years. On Thursday evening I 
 followed him to the grave; and, soon after, the effects of the 
 fatigue and distress of mind that I had suffered, prostrated 
 my strength and spirits, and I became ill. Three successive 
 nights of watching were too much for my system to endure; 
 but, I am now better, although weak and giddy. I was with 
 him, when he died, without a groan or change of feature. 
 My servants, also, have been all sick, except Essex, Hetty, 
 and Nancy. Carter Coupland, my only companion in this 
 scene of trouble, has behaved most nobly. If I had per 
 mitted it, he would have exhausted himself by sitting up. 
 He bas been of inexpressible assistance and comfort to me. 
 On Wednesday morning Beverley, who accompanied your 
 cousin from Staunton, came to breakfast, and went on im- 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 105 
 
 mediately to Halifax Court. He is now at Prince Edward 
 Superior Court, where Mr. Leigh is to appear for Robert 
 Gibson on a charge of murdering Samuel Pearce, his brother 
 in law; and Beverley for Caleb Baker, junior, who is to be 
 tried for shooting a negro. 
 
 It is grateful to me to see that the relict of my, let me 
 say our poor friend, and his other connexions, do not under 
 value my regard for the memory of that excellent man. 
 Say all that is proper for me to them. I am too unsettled to 
 write. I hope Mr. Croskey will send me the picture after 
 having such copies taken as Mr. Clay s friends may desire. 
 Has mine ever arrived in Philadelphia? I paid Jarvis eighty 
 dollars. Do not be uneasy about me; but write often, 
 and fully of yourself, and affairs. I know you must be 
 getting out of cash. I enclose a small supply of forty dol 
 lars, and will send more when I can get out, and procure it. 
 
 I am comforted to find that my dear friend s family are 
 getting more composed under their calamity. I hope he 
 left them in easy circumstances. Say something on this sub 
 ject to me, as well as on that of your own finances; one on 
 which you are culpably reserved. 
 
 My other overseer, Palmer, is very sick; an autumnal 
 fever, prevalent among the poor slaves. I give them eme 
 tics of ipecacuanha and tartar emetic combined, twelve and 
 two grains: one-third taken until it operates, and afterwards 
 a mercurial cathartic. This treatment has proved effectual 
 in all the cases except three: in those, Doctor Merry s 
 skill has succeeded in giving relief. You may probably 
 hear exaggerated reports of my illness. Give no credit to 
 them. It has been the effect of watching, fatigue, and 
 anxiety; and rest will soon restore me. Mr. William 
 Watkins, and Colonel Morton have just called to inquire 
 how I do.. 
 
 Yours, ever, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 Mr. THEO. BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 Your sister was well on Monday. Carter sends his love. 
 
 14 
 
106 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER LXXII. 
 
 iy* 
 
 Roanoke, Oct. 6, 1811. 
 
 ,, Sunday. 
 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR two letters, of the 23d and 30th of September, 
 have just now reached me. 1 awaited the arrival of the 
 post, in the expectation of hearing from you, with feelings 
 which you will be at no loss to comprehend, because you 
 have so well described them. Let me beg of you, my son, 
 to dismiss all anxiety on my account. I wish I could as rea 
 dily relieve all your other cares; but, therein, "the patient 
 must minister to himself." I have been very unwell, but 
 am now, thanks be to God! quite restored to my usual 
 health. I have never failed to write to you by every post; 
 if my letters have not come to hand, the fault is to be laid 
 to the door of the post-office. Take care of yourself, my 
 dear fellow; if not for your own, at least for my sake. 
 Struggle against desponding and low spirits, and endeavour 
 to cultivate and to cherish a cheerful, or, at least, a serene, 
 habit of mind. This is more in our power than we are in 
 general aware of: especially in early life. It is only when 
 the opposite, or any other ill habit, is formed and fastened 
 upon us, by that tyrant custom, that we see and feel, and 
 fruitlessly bewail our error. 1 am shocked, and should be 
 surprised, if any thing could surprise me that man can do, 
 at the gross and cruel injustice done to the memory and fa 
 mily of our excellent friend, by his late employers: but it 
 is not among money lenders, and, especially, monied corpo 
 rations, that I should look for delicacy, feeling, or liberality; 
 much leas for justice. There is in all the combinations of 
 nature and art, nothing so hard and callous as a trading com 
 pany, of whatever description. They look to the dividend; 
 to the profit and loss account of the leger; and, whether 
 their gain flow from the blood of a Hindoo, or African; 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 107 
 
 from the ruined reputation of an honest and amiable man, or 
 the tears of his widowed companion and orphan offspring, 
 it is all one to these ivorthy personages. I had feared that 
 the generous temper of our friend had disabled him from 
 making a secure and permanent provision for his family. It 
 was therefore, that I directed my inquiries to that point. 
 Mrs. Clay (to whom I have not yet the heart to write) will 
 not, 1 hope, deny me the melancholy privilege of consider 
 ing Randolph as my own son. I intend, with her permis 
 sion, to take upon myself the charge of his education and 
 advancement in life. Could 1 do a thousand times more, his 
 father had deserved it all richly at my hands. Do let her 
 know this through Mr. Croskey, or in any other way which 
 your own delicate and manly spirit may suggest. 
 
 I was aware that your finances must have been straitened, 
 and, therefore, I wished to know how they stood, that I 
 might make the speediest and most efficient provision on 
 that head. This, you say, is "a delicate subject:" true, it. is 
 so, in general, but not between you and myself, my dear son. 
 Take care of your heart. Pity is a-kin to Love. Grief pre 
 pares the affections for the sway of that seducing tyrant. 
 The ladies of Philadelphia are fair and alluring, and your 
 time of life is most propitious to their power over your heart. 
 In the language of your profession, there is in every young 
 man of a just and honourable way of thinking, of refined 
 and elevated notions, a strong predisposition to this univer 
 sal disease, which, like some others, all of us must have once 
 in our lives. If the case be desperate, make me your con 
 fidant, if you can: I will endeavour to prove myself not 
 unworthy of the trust. But I protest against extorted con 
 fidence and forced prayers. I, too, have been young, and 
 know how to make allowance, I trust, for the noblest infir 
 mity of our nature; which none but the young, or those who 
 have not forgotten the feelings of their youth, can duly esti 
 mate. 
 
 I shall go on early to Washington, and do not wish you 
 to come on there until you hear of me from thence. Again, 
 
108 LETTERS OF 
 
 take care of yourself. As soon as I get to Richmond (if not 
 sooner) I shall make you a remittance. I would not have 
 had you put even the semblance of slight upon the memory 
 of our dear friend, for the wealth of Croesus. 
 
 Farewell, my dear Theodore: for such you are, and ever 
 will be, to 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 MR. THEODORICK BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 Carter greets you cordially: so does Beverley. Henry 
 Tucker has lost his youngest child: so has Mr. William Wat- 
 kins. All well at Bizarre, yesterday. 
 
 I sent you $40 by the last postj or, rather, the penulti 
 mate, which, I presume, you have received: $20 and $150 
 before; that is, since we parted in Baltimore. I state this, 
 to avoid mistake. Mr. Garnett, speaking of Mr. Clay s 
 death, says " I feared until I heard from you," (a misap 
 prehension of a passage of my letter,) " of Dr. -Brocken- 
 brough s being with him, that those Philadelphia Sangrados 
 had killed him. Poor fellow, he always appeared to me too 
 fond of their most absurd and most fatal system, of taking 
 all the blood out of a man s body by way of prolonging his 
 life.* He lived long enough for his own fame, but the loss 
 of such a man, at any period, must be considered both as a 
 public and a private calamity." 
 
 * Do you take warning, and consult Wistar, Physick, and the fathers of 
 medicine. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 109 
 
 LETTER LXXIII. 
 
 Roanoke, Oct. 13, 1811. 
 
 Sunday Night. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR welcome letter of the 6th arrived to-day, most 
 opportunely, to withdraw my mind from those vexatious and 
 vulgar details to which a Southern planter must, in some de 
 gree, attend, or encounter certain ruin. You may well sup 
 pose how much my time is taken up with these heartless, 
 or, rather, disheartening cases, when I tell you that I have 
 not yet found any one to supply the place of poor Curd I 
 mean in form; for I " shall never look upon his like again." 
 
 I am glad to find that you can and do amuse yourself with 
 field-sports: but I hope you will take care how you exchange 
 shots with any but gentlemen; and even with them, that 
 you will have your quarrel just. A man would cut a piti 
 ful figure who should lose his life in a brawl with such fel 
 lows as you describe your unknown adversary to be. We 
 should study that our deaths, as well as our lives, should be 
 innocent, if not honourable and glorious; so that our friends 
 should have no cause to blush for the folly, or rashness, of 
 either. At the same time, be assured, my dear Theodore, 
 that, of all the defects in the human character, there is none 
 that I should so much deprecate for my friend, or myself, as 
 want of spirit and firmness. 
 
 You say that " Mrs. Clay is anxious to get my picture." 
 Do you mean my picture of Mr. Clay, or the picture of my 
 self which I had taken for him? The last, Mr. Nicholson, 
 jr., promised to transmit to Philadelphia last spring. I am 
 very anxious to get my picture of Mr. Clay as soon as it 
 shall have been copied for his friends. I cannot part with 
 the original, unless Mrs. Clay desires it. Present me, af 
 fectionately, to her and Randolph. I hope to see them 
 
HO LETTERS OF 
 
 some time this winter. Can she be prevailed upon, do you 
 think, to intrust him to my care? 
 
 I am glad you have become acquainted with Mr. John 
 Morton, of Bordeaux. He is a most valuable man; an ho 
 nour to Virginia. His worthy connexions will be justly 
 proud to see him. 
 
 To whom is my friend Roscius about to be married? I 
 hope some good party : although I fear matrimony will not 
 suit his habits. He has been too long a " chartered liber 
 tine/ to bear the matrimonial chains: they will not clank 
 so gracefully as the fetters of Pierre. 
 
 Mr. Patton, of Alexandria, writes to me that he has re 
 ceived from Mr. Hackley a fine pointer for me, which he 
 keeps subject to my order. Mr. Hackley s last letter men 
 tions the dog as a very fine one. He sent three others for 
 Mr. W. R. and myself; one of which is a double-nosed slut. 
 It was the only one, of that race, that Mr. H. had been 
 able to procure since the loss of the two (by storm) that he 
 had shipped for us. The French, around the Bay of Cadiz, 
 got possession of them. 
 
 I have killed one soree, or rat, (I believe the word is so 
 spelled, without the i,) about a dozen ortolans, and, this 
 morning, a very fine whistling plover; the heaviest bird I 
 ever felt of his size. I shot him at the cow-pen, in compa 
 ny with some kildees; and, after I had shot, a very large 
 flock rose, a few paces off but I got no second opportunity. 
 We have, apparently, no woodcocks. 
 
 Adieu, dear Theodore! 
 I am, most truly, 
 Yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 I receive your letters but irregularly; two at a time. I 
 hope you have visited Mr. Cooper, and that he has seen Mr. 
 Crawford s letter on the subject of a certain affair that took 
 place at the close of the last session of congress. I sent a 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. HI 
 
 copy of it to Mr. Clay, and requested that it might be shown 
 to Mr. Cooper. This is, probably, the last letter I shall 
 write from this place, until we meet again. I long to see 
 you once more. Carter desires his love. Beverley went to 
 Staunton on Wednesday. He has not been here two days 
 since June, all taken together never two in succession. 
 
 LETTER LXXIV. 
 
 Roanoke, Oct. 20, 1811. 
 
 Sunday. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 CONTRARY to my expectation, I address another let 
 ter to you from this place, (written, for want of paper, on 
 the cover of your own of the 12th, which the post-boy has 
 just handed to me.) Just as I was preparing to set out, poor 
 Carter was taken sick, and T am too strongly bound to him, 
 by his kind attentions to myself and family, to think of 
 leaving him, under such circumstances. His disease (a mild 
 form of autumnal fever) has yielded to a single dose of ca 
 lomel. The night before last, just as he had fallen asleep, 
 and I was watching by his bed-side, Tudor arrived, to my 
 great comfort and relief. Beverley, who went to Staunton 
 a fortnight ago, has not yet returned. Tudor left your sis 
 ter, his mother, and brother, in good health. Yesterday 
 John Morton and Mr. Tucker (Henry, brother of George,) 
 arrived; and to-day we broke the Sabbath, according to the 
 estimation of puritans. When I had killed one ortolan and 
 three partridges, the rain drove us in, about ten o clock. 
 
 Be assured, my dear Theodore, that your letter, which 
 now lies before me, verifies, most strikingly, the truth of the 
 
112 LETTERS OF 
 
 Rambler s remark. Our pleasure, then, is mutual: may it 
 be ever thus between us, my son! May our connexion be 
 to you, as it has been to me, productive only of satisfaction, 
 as little alloyed as any human enjoyment can be. It has 
 been to me a source of comfort and consolation that I would 
 not exchange for all the dignities and kingdoms of this 
 world. 
 
 It gives me great pleasure to find that your health is bet 
 ter, and that the tone of your spirits is somewhat restored, 
 after their late severe shock from the loss of our dear 
 friend, poor Mr. Clay ! Time, I trust, will do the rest. If 
 I were a younger man, I should almost envy you the plea 
 sure of seeing my friend, Cooper, on the stage. As 
 it is, I rejoice that you have a resource against tedium 
 and lassitude, at once so rational and delightful: one which, 
 dulled as my powers of perception are, by a long, hack 
 neyed journey through life, I could yet relish with no com 
 mon zest. While such recreations are within your reach, 
 (to say nothing of the ladies,) I have no fear (even were my 
 confidence in your taste and principles less than it is) of 
 your falling into any unworthy and degrading courses. Of 
 all the remedies for ennui, dissipation is the least efficient, 
 and the most destructive of the moral as well as the physi 
 cal constitution of man. Yet we are, all of us, more the 
 creatures of circumstances, than the pride of human nature 
 is willing to allow. Hand inexperto loquor. I have 
 known what it is to be cast upon a wide world, without a 
 friend or counsellor, or opportunity, to waste my capacity 
 (such as it was) in idleness, my fortune in extravagance, and 
 my health in excess. 
 
 The superscription of your letter admonishes me to con 
 clude. I have no objection far otherwise to your going 
 to New York, if your finances will furnish the means. 1 
 take shame to myself that they are so low: but I have been 
 going to Richmond every week for some months back. 
 When there, I shall replenish your exchequer. If you go, 
 apprize me of your address. My best regards to Mrs. Clay 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 and all her good family. Speak to Mr. Croskey about the 
 picture. 
 
 Yours, ever, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 MR. THEO. BLAND DUDLEY, 
 
 The boys send their best love to you, The weather 
 changed to-day greatly for the better. You are aware of 
 the fatal consequences of " a single false step." Present 
 my best respects to Mr. Cooper,* and tell him that I have re 
 ceived his obliging letter, and that I would answer it, but that 
 I am hurried in preparing to leave home. My friend Kid- 
 der has sent me " Don Roderick/ proximus longo inter- 
 vallo to the "Lady of the Lake;" herself as far removed 
 from "Marmion" or "The Lay." 
 
 LETTER LXXV. 
 
 Hanover, C. H., Nov. 1, 1811. 
 
 Friday, half past 11, P. M. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 ft . 
 
 I LEFT Roanoke on Thursday, (Oct. 24,) between 12 
 and I, and got to Bizarre that night, just as the family were 
 retiring to bed. The effects of the night air (it was very cold) 
 were very severe, and I have not yet recovered from the ex 
 posure. Your sister and cousin were well; so was St. George. 
 Tudor rode down with me from Roanoke. I heard from him 
 again to-day; on Friday, (Oct. 25,) I progressed, in great 
 pain, to our friend s, Mr. Thomas Miller, who inquired 
 
 * The tragedian. 
 15 
 
114 LETTERS OF 
 
 kindly after you. Next day, Saturday, (26th,) I reached 
 Richmond, half dead, but amply compensated by meeting 
 with my dear brother Henry, who, I had feared, might have 
 left town. The last thing that I did, to-day, was to make an 
 arrangement to place $250, subject to your order, in the Far 
 mers and Mechanics Bank of Philadelphia. My remit 
 tance would have been larger; but I have not been able to 
 effect a sale of my tobacco, on any terms you must, there 
 fore, excuse the scantiness of your supply. 
 
 I dined, to-day, with our friend Dr. Brockenbrough, and 
 came out of town about sunset. Henry Tucker is in fine 
 health and spirits. 
 
 I determined to give you the earliest intelligence of the 
 replenishing of your exchequer. Good night. I must be in 
 Washington the day after to-morrow. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 I met Beverley, and his wife and child, at Bizarre, on 
 their way home. 
 
 LETTER LXXVI. 
 
 Georgetown, December 12, 1811. 
 Thursday Night, 11 o clock. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter has just arrived, to my very great relief. 
 I had begun to be uneasy on your subject. Pray let me hear 
 oftener from you, if it be but a line, to say that you are well. 
 My own health is sinking under the arduous duties which 
 are imposed upon me, and I meditate a short retreat to my 
 friend, Mr. C. Sterrett Ridgeley s, near Elk Ridge Landing. 
 My best regards attend Mrs. Clay. I should have been more 
 particular in my communications to her, but I hoped to have 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 115 
 
 had the pleasure to see her, in person, ere this. Has Cap 
 tain Ashmead received my letters? 
 Yours, ever, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 LETTER LXXVII. 
 
 Saturday, Jan. 5, 1812. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I HAVE been much indisposed, but am now better. I 
 have neither health, spirits, nor leisure to write. At this mo 
 ment, I have at least fifty unanswered letters; some of them 
 on business of consequence. Recollect, my son, that I have 
 some twenty or thirty correspondents: you, perhaps, not more 
 than three or four. I say nothing of my other avocations. 
 
 My spirits are crushed by the late calamitous event at 
 Richmond.* Mrs. Brockenbrough, I fear, will lose her 
 senses, irretrievably! Would to God, my son, that circum 
 stances permitted you to be with me, at this moment. I 
 have need of comfort 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 Late Saturday Night. 
 
 * The burning of the Theatre. 
 
116 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER LXXVIII. 
 
 Georgetown, Jan. 9, 1812. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I HAVE just received your letter of the 16th. Why 
 are you so concise? You surely cannot plead want of time, 
 or number of correspondents. Give my best respects to 
 Mr. Walsh, and tell him that the least inaccurate sketches 
 of my speeches will be found in the "Spirit of 76," but 
 they are extremely imperfect, and I have neither health, 
 leisure, nor (I might add) power to render them less so. 
 Speaking, as I always do, from the impulse of the moment, 
 the verba ardentia cannot be recalled. The glowing pic 
 ture fades the happy epithet, the concise and forcible ex 
 pression is lost, never again to be retrieved. A miserable 
 shadow is all that remains nor can I look upon it without 
 disgust. My best regards to Dr. Logan: I shall be rejoiced 
 to see him here. Adieu. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 T. B. DUDLEY, 
 
 LETTER LXXIX. 
 
 Monday, Jan. 12, 1812. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I have crawled down to the house, for the purpose of 
 giving my vote on a proposition, which, after having been 
 debated for nearly a week, is withdrawn. I received Captain 
 Ashmead s papers, and they are before the secretary of state, 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 117 
 
 with such observations as I thought proper to make upon 
 them, consisting, chiefly, of Captain Ashmead s statement of 
 facts -respecting the charges of interest, &c. 
 
 I saw Mr. Rush last evening. He spoke of you very 
 obligingly. Pray keep up your spirits: you are too young 
 to indulge in this fatal luxury. 
 
 Farewell, my son! 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
 My best regards to Mrs. Clay and family. As soon as I 
 hear from the secretary of state, I shall transmit his deci 
 sion to Captain Ashmead. 
 
 LETTER LXXX. 
 
 Georgetown, Jan. 16, 1812. 
 
 Thursday Night. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I HAVE been confined all day to my apartment by in 
 disposition not severe, but highly distressing: a general 
 prostration of strength and spirits, arising, I believe, from 
 erratic gout. In this state of body and mind, nothing is so 
 grateful to me as the recollection of my friends; but, I hear 
 from few of them, and at long intervals, or by scanty let 
 ters. I see that Mr. Dennie is no more. What character 
 did he bear in Philadelphia? Was he an intimate of Mr. 
 Walsh? Have you seen that gentleman lately? When you 
 do see him, present my sincere respects to him, and to Dr. 
 Logan, also. Do you visit at Mr. Dallas s? You forget al 
 ways to say any thing of yourself, and your affairs. 
 
118 LETTERS OF 
 
 Good night, my son! 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 MR. T. BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 LETTER LXXXI. 
 
 Georgetown, Feb. 3, 1812, 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR scanty letter of one straggling page, serves to con 
 vince me that you have not entirely forgotten me. But why, 
 my son, do you say nothing of your pursuits, your companions, 
 or of the few persons whom you see, that are known to me, 
 by character, at least? Dr. Logan, for instance, or Mr. Walsh. 
 I know by fatal experience, my child, the fascinations of a 
 town life how they estrange the mind from its old habits and 
 attachments; but I will not permit myself to believe that you 
 have yielded to their influence. In reminding me of Blooms- 
 bury and Fidget,* you recall to my recollection some unplea 
 sant, at least mournful recollections. I had intended to ac 
 company Mr. Parish to Baltimore. But, late on the evening 
 previously to his departure, a circumstance occurred that de 
 tained me here one day longer. I meant to have written to 
 you by Mr. P. in order to introduce you to his acquaintance. 
 He is a gentleman of great worth and intelligence. I hope 
 he will use my old servants well. 
 
 My Virginian friends, except Mr. Leigh and Dr. Brocken- 
 brough, have scarcely written me a line this winter. By my 
 
 * Two saddle Iwrses that he had sold to Mr, Parish. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 119 
 
 old neighbours, and my new ones too, I have been entirely ne 
 glected. 
 
 You say nothing of Mrs. Clay, or her family. I propose 
 doing myself the pleasure of seeing them, whenever the state 
 of things here will allow me to leave Washington, or, rather, 
 Congress. Present me, very respectfully, to her and her fa 
 mily ; also, to Captain Ashmead, and tell him that no decision 
 has yet been made on the claim which he transmitted me. 
 
 Good night, my son. 1 feel very low this evening. May 
 God bless and protect you. 
 
 Your friend and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roan6ke. 
 
 My best respects to Mr. Walsh, and to Dr. Logan, when 
 you see him. 
 
 LETTER LXXXII. 
 
 Georgetown, Feb. 5, 1812. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I SAW Mr. Dallas to-day, for the first time since his ar 
 rival, and he reproached me for not having made him ac 
 quainted with you. I related to him the fact, just as it had 
 occurred, and he bids me tell you that you can only make 
 atonement for your transgression by calling on Mrs. Dallas 
 during his absence. On his return, he expects to find you at 
 home in his house. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke, 
 
LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER LXXXIII. 
 
 Georgetown, Feb. 15, 1812. 
 
 1 THANK you, my dear Theodore, for your very affectionate 
 letter. My avocations, the state of my health, and, I am sorry 
 to add, of my spirits, must plead my excuse, when I do not 
 make a prompt and suitable return for such instances of your 
 attention. I have seldom experienced a greater depression 
 than at the present moment. You must not account with me 
 too severely, my son. Could you know what I feel, I should 
 want no advocate in your breast. 
 
 It would be matter of surprise to me, if you had not been 
 touched, as I perceive you have been, with the uncommon 
 merits of your friend, the late Mr. Clay. Why do you say so 
 little of his widow and orphan family ? Why are you silent 
 on the subject of his picture, respecting which I feel, and have 
 expressed, so much interest ? 
 
 I am glad to find that you occupy yourself in the study of 
 the sacred writings. Go on and prosper, as assuredly he 
 must, who is engaged in so ennobling a pursuit. But I am 
 sorry to find in your diary, so many notices of lectures unat 
 tended.* These instances, I hope, will not hereafter so fre 
 quently occur. 
 
 Farewell, my son ! Remember me to Mr. Walsh and to 
 Dr. Logan ; and believe me, with the truest regard, your 
 friend and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 Mr. THEODORICK BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 Owing to indisposition,, 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 LETTER LXXXIV. 
 
 Georgetown, March 4, 1812. 
 
 I HAVE been for some time past remiss in my corres 
 pondence with you, my dear Theodore; and even now, I 
 shall hardly make amends for my deficiency. My health is 
 bad, and my perplexities many. The object of this letter 
 is to request you to transmit to me an account of the state of 
 your finances, and to let me know whether any new regula 
 tions have been made respecting the graduation of the me 
 dical student, in your university. I hope to see you shortly. 
 Your friend and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 THEODORICK BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 Pardon the seeming abruptness of this letter. 
 
 LETTER LXXXV. 
 
 Georgetown, March 13, 1812. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I SHOULD have written to you before this time, by 
 our friend Dr. Logan, who is here, and who intended to 
 have gone to Philadelphia, the day before yesterday; but he 
 has postponed his journey until the day after to-morrow. I 
 was, and still am anxious to know whether, agreeably to 
 the regulations of the university, you can honourably gra 
 duate this season. 
 
 I am obliged to Dr. Chapman for his good intentions; but 
 my life, eventful as it has been in some points of view, will 
 
 16 
 
122 LETTERS OF 
 
 hardly afford materials for biography. I ought to have no- 
 objection to the engraving in question, except as it will of 
 fer but an uninteresting and insignificant subject to the pub 
 lic attention. 
 
 You wiff hear farther from me by our friend the Doctor. 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 MR. T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
 LETTER LXXXVL 
 
 Georgetown, March 14, 1812. 
 Mr DEAR THEODORE^ 
 
 OUR friend, Dr. Logan, will hand you this. Enclosed 
 you have one hundred dollars, which, I trust, will put your 
 finances a little above par. Pray, my dear son, write to me 
 fully on the subject of my last letter the prospect of gra 
 duation. 1 have the strongest wish to have you with me. 
 Dr. Logan, contrary to my expectation, leaves town to-mor 
 row, instead of the day after. I am, therefore, obliged to 
 be abrupt, which I hope you will excuse. In haste, but 
 with the truest regard, 1 am, my dear Theodore, 
 Your friend and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 MR. T. B. DUDLEY, 
 
 I have put my name on the back of the note, (which I re* 
 eeived of government,) to put an end to any difficulty in its. 
 negotiation. My best respects to Mr. Walsh. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 123 
 
 LETTER LXXXVII. 
 
 Georgetown, May 11, 1812. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I HAVE received your two " short and hurried letters." 
 I am much concerned, my son, to hear that you " have been 
 very unhappy since you got back to Virginia." I am afraid 
 you will find nothing in our solitary and deserted habitation 
 to raise your spirits. I shrink at the idea of returning to 
 it. Disappointed of every rational hope of my life look 
 ing forward to nothing better in this world my faculties 
 jaded, and daily forsaking me with recollections of the 
 past which I would gladly dismiss for ever from my memo 
 ry it is for me, and such as me, to talk of being unhappy. 
 
 I believe I omitted to tell you that I wished you to use 
 Everlasting: pray be merciful to her. 
 Yours, sincerely, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 LETTER LXXXVIII. 
 
 Georgetown, May, 1812, 
 
 I THANK you, my dear Theodore, for your letter of 
 the 14th: it is all I can do. Tudor, tired of Baltimore and 
 its vicinity, has gone on to Philadelphia. I enclosed him 
 letters to Mr. Walsh, Mrs. Clay, and Mr. Parish. He will 
 there await my coming. I fear you have a sad time of it at 
 Roanoke. You said nothing to me of your sister, or cousin: 
 particularly of your reception by the latter; and scarcely 
 
124 LETTERS OF 
 
 any thing of my sister, who mentions you with much inte 
 rest. In haste. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 LETTER LXXXIX. 
 
 Georgetown, June 5, 1812. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 You are not the first of my correspondents whom my 
 inveterate habit of scribbling has induced to suppose that I 
 would continue to write to them whether I received any en 
 couragement to do so, or not. At present, however, there 
 exist impediments to my accustomed readiness and punctu 
 ality in this respect which I cannot overcome. It gives me 
 great pleasure to hear that you have regained your compo 
 sure of rnind. Into the causes which disturbed it I never 
 ventured to inquire, content to receive such portion of your 
 confidence as you chose voluntarily to bestow upon me. 
 
 The death of poor Echo is a severe blow upon me. "I 
 ne er shall look upon her like again." And, among the in 
 ducements which I felt to revisit my own comfortless home, 
 it was not the least that I should again see her, and witness 
 the sagacity and attachment of this humble yet faithful four- 
 footed friend. 
 
 My best love to Carter. 
 
 Yours, affectionately, 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 Has Echo any offspring at Roanoke? 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 125 
 
 LETTER XC. 
 
 Georgetown, June 29, 1812. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter from Charlotte, C. H., has just reached 
 me. I regret very much that I have had it so little in my 
 power to write to you since your return home; but my hands 
 are full, and my vigour wasted. It is with extreme difficulty 
 that I can summon resolution and find time to do the drud 
 gery to which I am tied down. 
 
 I shall address this to Bizarre, and I beg of you to excuse 
 me to your cousin and St. George for not writing. Tudor 
 is now in Philadelphia. He is highly delighted with your 
 friend Mr. Walsh; who speaks of you as you could wish. 
 I don t know whether I told you that Dr. Sim called to pay 
 his respects to you the day after j^ou left us. I went to the 
 island, and found that our invitation had been given for the 
 preceding Sunday. We shall adjourn on Monday next, so 
 say our masters. 
 
 Your friend and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 LETTER XCI. 
 
 Friday Night, Nov. 19, 1812. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I RECEIVED your short letter this evening, and an im 
 pertinent one from Palmer, by the same post. I fear I 
 shall have to go home, for he threatens to leave my planta 
 tion, because "I am too tight with him;" that is, I will not 
 
126 LETTERS OF 
 
 permit him to encroach beyond the terms of my contract with 
 him. 
 
 You have, perhaps, done right in taking the tickets of all 
 the professors. It is, no doubt, a propitiatory step towards 
 them; but, I do hope, that you will not run the risk of in- 
 juring^your health in attending them. You say nothing upon 
 that topic. What is Dr. Physick s, or Wistar s opinion of 
 your case? You are silent, also, respecting Mrs. Clay, Mr. 
 Walsh, Dr. Chapman, &c.? How is Randolph ? I wrote to 
 you last evening. The night was a night of horrors to me. 
 I had a severe sore throat, fever and pains in every limb and 
 joint. Half an hour s disturbed sleep was my portion. To-day 
 I am better, far better; but clearly discern gout in my feet. 
 They are painful, tumidj and red, especially the great toes. 
 
 I am glad to tell you that Tudor has done himself credit 
 at Cambridge. He stands high in the opinion of the pro 
 fessors, as well for his deportment, as his literary acquire 
 ments, and love of study. 
 
 It has blown a gale from every point of the compass, (ex 
 cept south,) since you left us. Hard clouds spitting snow 
 and sleet weather that one would expect in Spitzbergen; 
 not in latitude 39. I have not been to the house, and scarce 
 ly out of the house since you left us. 
 Yours, 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 My compliments to Dr. Chapman. Tell him that I would 
 give him some memoires pour servir, &c., if I had an ama 
 nuensis. 
 
 Do not forget that the perfection of the epistolary art 
 consists in omitting all mention of incidents in one s letters. 
 
 Present me, respectfully, to Mr. Walsh, Mr. Hare, Mr. 
 Meredith, Mr. Binney, and Mr. Dallas, if he be of your ac 
 quaintance. 
 
 Good night! good night. 
 
 Beverley R. has distinguished himself at Queenstown. 
 
JOHN KANDOLrH, 127 
 
 LETTER XCII. 
 
 Thursday, Nov. 19, 1812. 
 
 RHEUMATISM sore throat, and fever, have been my 
 companions since you left me. I have not been once to the 
 house; scarcely written a single line. I wished to have 
 written to dear Mrs. Clay on the subject of Randolph, but 
 have not had spirits and resolution enough to throw my 
 thoughts on paper. It is a sad subject, and recalls mournful 
 recollections. You can, doubtless, insinuate to her my wishes 
 to have him as soon as she can bring herself to part from 
 him: the sooner the better, for any advantage which he may 
 derive from my tuition. My best regards to Mr. Walsh. 
 Mention me in the kindest manner to dear Mrs. Clay and 
 her family; also, to every one that knows and inquires after 
 me. Good night I must to bed. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 LETTER XCIII. 
 
 Georgetown, Nov. 27, 1812, 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I WAS highly gratified this evening, on my return from 
 dining with Mr. Frank Key, to find your letter of the 23d ? 
 (post-marked the 25th.) I am glad to tell you that, since my 
 late acute attack, when the morbid matter, whatever it be, set 
 tled in my feet, I have been quite anew man. For the first 
 time, during many months, my mind has been relieved from 
 an oppression which has clouded and impaired all my facul- 
 
LETTERS OF 
 
 ties. The effects have, no doubt, been felt by those who have 
 been placed in contact with me, (as well as by myself,) al 
 though they have, probably, been unable to make due allow 
 ance for the malady by which I have been afflicted. 
 
 I hope you will follow Dr. Chapman s advice, and never 
 cease to remember that, in order to qualify yourself for heal 
 ing others, it is of primary necessity that you, yourself, 
 should be sane in body, as well as mind. I am greatly 
 obliged to Dr. Chapman; I cannot say for his recollection of 
 me, for he never knew me; but, for thinking of me so often, 
 and so favourably I must add, so partially, also. 
 
 Present me, most respectfully and affectionately, to Mrs. 
 Clay, and tell her that I accept the trust which she has so ge 
 nerously confided to me, with a proper sense of its import 
 ance. I hope, indeed, that it may be as she expects, " that 
 Randolph will receive much benefit from my tuition." I 
 know that, in many respects, I am less qualified for such a 
 task, than when I undertook the instruction of yourself and 
 Tudor; but of this I am equally confident, that no exertion 
 shall be wanting, on my part, to render him worthy of her, 
 and an honour to the memory of that other dear friend, to 
 whom he owes his being. 
 
 I took advantage of the parliamentary holiday, yesterday, 
 to enjoy the diversion of shooting. I killed one brace of 
 woodcocks and two of partridges missing only two shots; 
 both on horse-back. Your favourite Sancho did not distin 
 guish himself, being quite eclipsed by Dido. I fear he will 
 lose his eye. St. George writes that woodcocks are uncom 
 monly numerous, and that he has killed two. Your sister 
 was well. 
 
 Did I tell you that I sent Jupiter home from Fredericks- 
 burg ? I miss him very much. Mr. Charles Sterrett Ridge- 
 ly arrived here last night, to my great joy. He desires his 
 respects to you. I received a letter, since I commenced 
 this, from Mr. Parish. He is at Ogdensburgh, but will be in 
 Philadelphia, about the first of January. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 129 
 
 My best regards to Mr. Walsh. I shall write again short 
 ly; probably by to-morrow s mail. 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 Mr. T. BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 LETTER XCIV. 
 
 Georgetown, Nov. 28, 
 
 ACCORDING to the intimation in my last, I took the field 
 to-day but my friend Mr. Charles Sterrett Ridgely was un 
 able to accompany me; having been better employed in 
 placing Mr. Luf borough s son, (the young man wha was at 
 Carlisle,) in an eligible berth on board the Constellation. It 
 was a blank day with me. I went out late, having waited 
 for Mr. Ridgely; and although Dido behaved to admiration, 
 I killed nothing except two unqualified sportsmen, a large 
 owl, and a poaching cat. I moved several woodcocks, shot 
 twice at very unfavourable chances, and returned to an 
 early dinner. As this letter will be postage free, I have 
 less compunction in taxing you with it 
 
 I shall write again to-morrow, and trouble you with some 
 commissions. 
 
 Yours, most affectionately, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke, 
 
 MR. T. BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 17 
 
130 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER XCV. 
 
 Dec. 12, 1812. 
 DEAR THEOPORE, 
 
 IN conformity with your request, I write merely to 
 inform you that I am greatly better although far from well. 
 My feet, my head, and stomach antagonize, (if I may so 
 speak,) like a flexor and extensor muscle. I am sorry to 
 hear of your cough. Is it the effect of cold, or of some 
 obstruction of the liver? 
 
 My best regards to Mrs. Clay, and the children. Why 
 do you say nothing of them? 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 The Potomac closed the night before last. Mr. Stanford 
 desires to be remembered to you. 
 
 LETTER XCVI. 
 
 Dec. 17, 1812. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 HAVING seen myself in the portfolio, I have no 
 longer any wish to possess a copy; and I really regret that 
 you lent the miniature for the purpose of having it so wretch 
 edly engraved. Had I been consulted, I would have put 
 my veto upon the "projet." At the same time, do not un 
 derstand me as expressing censure at your compliance with 
 Dr. C s request I do not know how you could have 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 131 
 
 refused. You might have said " I will consult my uncle, 
 and if he has no objection, &c." 
 
 I am better, and trust you are so; though I have sometimes 
 apprehensions, as I do not hear from you. Three lines would 
 do. A word, at the same time, of Mrs. Clay: her situation, 
 her spirits, children, &c. Adieu, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 LETTER XCVII. 
 
 December 18, 1812. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I HAVE just received the enclosed from poor St. George, 
 under cover of a letter to myself. Want of some one to com 
 municate with is evidently impairing his knowledge of the 
 language. His letters to me, of late, are hardly intelligible; 
 some parts of them quite so. He complains that his brother 
 does not write to him. I fear he will lose the faculty of ex 
 pressing his thoughts on paper, if no one takes the trouble to 
 correct him. Alas! " prayers are not morality," nor " kneel 
 ing religion. " What a perversion to suppose austerity, sour 
 ness, gloom, indifference to the welfare of those whom we 
 ought to love, (if we can love any thing,} that these recom 
 mend us to the Divine Author of that religion, which teaches 
 us to love our neighbour as ourself; to bless them that curse 
 us whose very essence is benevolence and good will towards 
 man! 
 
 I must go to the house. Good b ye. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 Have you read Leigh s Memoirs? Probably you have not 
 
132 LETTERS OF 
 
 leisure; but I beg of you to read the note in page 341, of vo 
 lume 2d. The friendship of Washington forfeited by negli 
 gence. 
 
 LETTER XCVIII. 
 
 Georgetown, Jan. 1, 1813. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR last letter has afforded relief from some anxiety 
 which I had begun to feel, on your account. That by Mr. 
 Weir has not yet come to hand. I made but a very short 
 stay with my friend, Mr. Charles Sterrett Ridgely whose 
 hospitable mansion I left on Monday last. Exposure to cold 
 brought on ague, and something very like cholera morbus, 
 I have seldom suffered more than I did on that night, after 
 reaching my lodgings. I write these few lines merely that 
 you may not suppose that I think you neglectful of me, as 
 your letter seems to intimate. 
 
 Do not forget to call on Mr. Parish, who, by this time, is 
 in Philadelphia; and commend me to Mrs. Clay, and all 
 friends. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 MR. THEODORICK BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 133 
 
 LETTER XCIX. 
 
 Saturday, Jan. 9, 1813. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 OUR friend, Dr. Logan, will bear this letter. I in 
 tended to have sent you a remittance of $200, by this very 
 safe conveyance; but, having only notes of one of the late 
 banks incorporated here, I shall call at the Bank of Columbia, 
 on Monday or Tuesday next, and obtain a draft on their cor 
 respondent bank in Philadelphia, for that sum. Let me know, 
 as early as possible, how much more your occasions will call 
 for, that it may be supplied in due time; and, also, when you 
 can leave Philadelphia, after graduating. 
 
 Dr. Logan complains that he has not seen you at Stenton. 
 You ought not to neglect cultivating so valuable an acquaint 
 ance. 
 
 Yours, most truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 Mr. DUDLEY, 
 
 LETTER C. 
 
 Georgetown, Friday, Feb. 5, 1813. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I WROTE you a hasty letter yesterday, from which 
 you may infer that I meditated placing Randolph immedi 
 ately at school. When I spoke of " his being separated from 
 me," I referred to the time when he should attain a proper 
 age to be placed at school. You know the savage solitude 
 in which I live; into which I have been driven to seek skel- 
 
134 LETTERS OF 
 
 ter. I feel that it will be but a sad change to this poor 
 child, and, perhaps, a situation not entirely suited to his 
 age, &c. 
 
 I feel much at a loss how to act. Now, tell me something 
 of your own intentions and wishes, as to future pursuits and 
 prospects in life. Speak to me as to a friend, whose chief 
 motive is the fartherance of your own welfare. I have 
 thought of Richmond as not an ineligible position for you; 
 but only thought of it. 
 
 Pray give me the earliest information of Mr. Parish s ar 
 rival at Philadelphia; and do not fail to keep watch for Mr. 
 and Mrs. G., and present the enclosed. They will reach 
 Baltimore to-day, and will, probably, be in Philadelphia 
 about this day week: perhaps earlier. I had the pleasure of 
 dining with Mr. Walsh about ten days ago. He spoke of 
 you with great regard. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 MR. T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
 Best regards to Messrs. P. and W. 
 
 LETTER CI. 
 
 House of Representatives, Tuesday, Feb. 9, 1813. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 BY the time that this letter can reach you, Mr. and 
 Mrs. G. will, probably, be approaching Philadelphia. They 
 have .left Baltimore, and intend to go via Columbia and Lan 
 caster. I am extremely desirous that they should not pass 
 through Philadelphia without your seeing them. Should 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 135 
 
 this, unfortunately, happen, pray enclose my letter to Mr. 
 G. Mr. Alexander Walker, of that city, can give you his 
 address. 
 
 Your letters by Mr. W. have never made their appear 
 ance. Indeed, I hardly hear any thing from you. Tu 
 dor was well a few days ago. He has returned to Cam 
 bridge. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanake. 
 
 LETTER CIL 
 
 Feb. 9, 1813. 
 Mr DEAK THEODORE, 
 
 LIEUTENANT COLONEL SCOTT (the friend of Mr. Wat- 
 kins Leigh) will hand you this letter. It is written exclu 
 sively for the purpose of giving you the pleasure of his ac 
 quaintance; for which you must consider yourself as my 
 debtor. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 MR. T. BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 I wrote to you this morning, by maiL 
 
136: LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER CIIL 
 
 Wednesday, Feb. 10, 1813. 
 
 10 at night. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 MR. JOHN V AFGHAN, of Philadelphia, can inform 
 you of Mr. Gore s address. I am extremely desirous that 
 you should become known to him, and to Mrs. Gore. Pre 
 sent me, most respectfully, to them both; and mention my 
 wishes on this head. I hear nothing from, or of you. 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 Tell Mrs. G. that her friends, the Goldsboroughs, are 
 quite well; that Miss Anna Maria is as beautiful as ever, 
 and Mr. Bleecker more cheerful than I ever saw him. Mrs* 
 Horsey, with whom I dined to-day, and Mrs. Bayard, enjoy 
 their usually good health, good humour, and good spirits; but 
 Washington is a dreary place, nevertheless* 
 
 LETTER CIV. 
 
 Washington, Feb. 11, I8I& 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter of the 8th reached me at a late hour last 
 night. I have no idea of placing Randolph at school now, 
 nor for several years to come; but when the time should ar 
 rive, would prefer (cseteris paribus) putting him within 
 reach of his mother and friends. 
 
 I beg to hear from you more at full on the subject of your 
 P. S. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 137 
 
 I have just learned that Mr. and Mrs. G. were in Balti 
 more on Tuesday, the 9th. I hope you will not miss them 
 in their passage through Philadelphia: you are good at a 
 flying shot. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPEL 
 
 I am crippled with sciatic. 
 
 The skeleton of the speech has been mounted by some 
 bungler who knows nothing of political osteology. I feel 
 ashamed of myself not only stripped of my muscle, but 
 my very bones disjointed. 
 
 LETTER CV. 
 
 Georgetown, Feb. 18, 1813. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 SINCE the receipt of your concise letter of the 12th, 
 I have been on the verge of the grave, from one of those 
 sudden and incomprehensible attacks, to which my family 
 are subject. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. G. returned to Washington on Monday last: 
 after being detained ten days in Baltimore, despairing of be 
 ing able to cross the Susquehannah, they made a retrograde 
 movement, to the great joy of their numerous acquaintances 
 here. Pray inquire of Mr. Parish if he received a letter 
 from me, in answer to his from Philadelphia. I sent him, 
 also, Messrs. Quincy and Emott s speeches. 
 I am yet sore and iveak. 
 Yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 MR. T. BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 IS 
 
138 LETTERS OF 
 
 The letter by Mr. Weir has never reached me. My best 
 respects to Mr. Walsh, when you see him. Say every thing 
 proper to Mrs. C., and give my love to Randolph. 
 
 LETTER CVI. 
 
 Fredericksburg, March 5, 1813. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I WROTE to you yesterday, from Georgetown, en 
 closing a draft of the Bank of Columbia on the Bank of 
 Pennsylvania for two hundred dollars. As soon as you can 
 leave Philadelphia, I shall expect you in Virginia. Let me 
 know, that I may send horses to meet you in Richmond, and 
 address your letter to FarmviHe. I regret that I have heard 
 so little from you of late; for the letter by Mr. Weir never 
 came to hand. I reached this place about an hour ago, half 
 dead with fatigue and rheumatism, with which I have been 
 tortured beyond measure, during the latter part of the win 
 ter; especially the last ten days. I left Mr. and Mrs. G. in 
 Washington. They will, probably, reach Philadelphia in 
 the course of a week from this time, and will be in your 
 neighbourhood. I trust that you will see them. I expect 
 Randolph with you. My best regards to Mrs. Clay. I want 
 to write to her, but cannot at present. 
 
 I met Mr. Stanford here: he desires his respects to you. 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 T. B. DUDLEY, 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 139 
 
 LETTER CVII. 
 
 Bowling Green, March 8, 1813. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 FORTUNATELY for me, I changed my purpose of pro 
 ceeding through the desert, to Carter s ferry. Between Todd s 
 and this place, I was nearly mad with pain, and, when I got 
 here, was glad enough to remain. The next day (yesterday) 
 it snowed and rained incessantly, and this day must have emi 
 grated from the north-west coast of Scotland. I think it 
 doubtful whether 1 shall be able to get even to Prince Ed 
 ward Court; and my essay was to have reached Buckingham. 
 
 Tell Mrs. G. (when you see her) that I have been thinking 
 of her ever since I left Georgetown; pondering on the diffi 
 culties of her journey, and " guessing," according to the New 
 England fashion, " whether she would leave Washington to 
 day or to-morrow; if she had reached Baltimore; and how 
 long she would stay there; and when she would arrive in Phi 
 ladelphia?" &c. 
 
 As soon as the weather will permit, I shall go on to Rich 
 mond in Mr. Hoomes s carriage. 1 wish, very much, to see 
 
 you. 
 
 Your friend and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 MR. THEODORICK BLAND DUDLEY. 
 
 LETTER CVIII. 
 
 Richmond, March 10, 1813. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I LEFT the Bowling Green yesterday, after breakfast, 
 and, thanks to the politeness of Mr. Hoomes, was enabled to 
 
140 LETTERS OF 
 
 reach Richmond about seven o clock. My delay there was 
 not entirely unproductive of good, for I had the pleasure of 
 passing the day, on Monday, with Mr. Garnett; who came 
 to Caroline Court, in the hope of seeing some of his old ac 
 quaintances, on their way to the south. The road, from the 
 Bowling Green here, is worse than I ever saw it; indeed, the 
 weather has been wretchedly bad since Saturday. What 
 must the effect have been on the road farther north, which I 
 thought had already reached their ultimatum ? This re 
 flection has been uppermost in my mind for several days past, 
 and gives me much uneasiness respecting Mrs. G. I pray 
 you to let me hear of her safe arrival in Philadelphia, as soon 
 as possible. You have been upon a restrictive system, of 
 late. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 MR. T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
 Dr. and Mrs. B. ask kindly after you. 
 My best respects to Mr. Parish. 
 
 LETTER CIX. 
 
 Farmville, April 16, 1813. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 ON returning here yesterday, I found your three let 
 ters, of the 2d and 30th of March, from Philadelphia, and of 
 the 5th of this month, from Georgetown. I hasten to send 
 Jupiter for you, and must not omit a message of Dr. Ran 
 dolph, requesting you to call on him as you come up. 
 
 You will have learned, before this reaches you, that, so far 
 from "triumphing over my enemies," as you anticipated, 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 141 
 
 they are triumphing over me: a triumph which, for my coun 
 try s sake, I deeply regret; but which has no power to shake 
 the firmness of my purpose, or to disturb the serenity of my 
 mind. It releases me from an odious thraldom, and, I assure 
 you, my dear Theodore, I have thought, and yet think, much 
 more of the charming Mrs. G. than of the election. The low 
 and base arts to which my adversaries have resorted, have 
 not raised them, or sunk me in my own esteem. 
 
 My best regards to Dr. and Mrs. B., and to Ryland. Ask 
 him about my shirts: I am half naked: and bring up my 
 boots, left at his house. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 MB. DUDLEY. 
 
 You have not mentioned whether or not you have gra 
 duated. 
 
 LETTER CX. 
 
 Bizarre, March 15, 1813, 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I LEFT Dr. Randolph s yesterday morning, and 
 reached this place about five o clock. He requests that you 
 will call upon him on your way home, and pressed me to 
 mention it to you not as an ordinary matter of course invi 
 tation. 
 
 I went to-day to Prince Edward Court, and found the 
 good people of that county as cordial to me as ever. Their 
 countenances spoke the feeling of their hearts towards me. 
 
 It is possible that Mrs. G. may not have left Philadelphia. 
 Do not forget to speak to her of me; to recall me to her re 
 collection although, I trust, that is unnecessary. Tell her 
 
142 LETTERS OF 
 
 that I shall feel eternally obliged to my friend Mercer for 
 the fidelity with which he executed my request. In short, 
 be as much with her as possible, that when we meet, we 
 may talk of her, and that you may comprehend her excel 
 lence. 
 
 Yours, always, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 Your sister is much grown, and quite well; so is St. 
 George. 
 
 I have read Mr. Mercer s letter a hundred times. No 
 wonder it was entirely on the subject of Mrs. G. 
 
 LETTER CXI. 
 
 September, 1813. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 MISUNDERSTANDING and misconception, even between 
 those who reside under the same roof, are, from whatever 
 cause, the fruitful source of misery to the best of friends. 
 What, then, may they not effect, among persons less attached 
 to each other than I know myself to be to you, or than I 
 believe you to be to me? Do not misconstrue me, whatever 
 you may observe in my conduct or observations before 
 others. 
 
 You cannot oblige me so much as by thinking yourself to 
 stand to me in the relation of a favoured son, and by acting 
 as master in my house, and on my estate, on every occasion, 
 where your own pleasure or a regard to my interest may 
 prompt you so to do. When you were young, and I was 
 of opinion that it might be injurious to your future charac 
 ter or fortunes to encourage such views, I sedulously re- 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 143 
 
 pressed them. Your character is now formed. Consider 
 yourself, then, as not less entitled to command here, than 
 if you were the child of my loins, as you are the son of my 
 affections. In repressing the forwardness of others I may 
 have repelled you. Understand me and my feelings, and 
 we shall never misconceive each other. I wish most fer 
 vently to see you in a situation more worthy of your merit, 
 and 1 hope I shall yet live to see it. Until then, take this 
 hint. It is enough if you enter into my feelings too much 
 if you do not. 
 
 Yours, affectionately, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 LETTER CXII. 
 
 Farrmille, Saturday, Nov. 6, 1813. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 JUPITER got down here, last night, with your letter. 
 1 do not wonder that he forgot your books when he returned 
 without what I chiefly sent him for my dirk, pocket pis 
 tols, goggles, and best coat, with dress shoes, and gaiters. 
 
 Pray speak to John Garritt to come down here and build a 
 house for St. George. He wishes it to be set about as soon 
 as possible. Garritt must leave at Roanoke all the tools he 
 found there, and such as I have purchased since. Phil and 
 Morocco can do what work I want, until poor St. George gets 
 a shelter over his head. 
 
 If a GOOD opportunity offers, be so good as to send me the 
 things above named, with my father s picture, and three lock 
 ets; they are in my writing-table drawer. I shall direct Jem 
 my to bring up some herd s grass seed, from Mr. Wm. L. 
 Morton s, which I wish sprinkled over the new meadow, and, 
 
144 LETTERS OF 
 
 if any left, over the old. Let Billy and Ned join the axe 
 men at Hog Island. 
 
 Jupiter also forgot Mr. Garritt s saddle. If the post-boy 
 cannot carry it, I will send it by the wagon. 
 
 I fear you have a sad time of it. Tell Pentecost he can 
 have the accommodation he asks, in respect to the goods. I 
 hope he sent down Ryland s horse. 
 
 I think it would be a good plan to put one of the three 
 years old colts, with a steady, dull horse, to break up the 
 pasture. 
 
 B. Woodson, Redford, and myself, are going a cocking in 
 Nash s low grounds. I will keep my letter open until 
 we return. I killed a duck in Mr. Dupuy s mill-pond, on 
 Monday evening, and three partridges and a cock, on Thurs 
 day, at Bizarre. Game is very scarce. Send me a memo 
 randum, by the post, of such things as you want, as well a& 
 overseers and carpenters. 
 
 Farewell, dear Theodorick. 
 
 Your friend and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke, 
 
 It is not possible to write tolerably with such tools. 
 
 Pray teach Dash and Clio to fetch. W. Randolph, from a 
 thorn wound in the knee, has a dreadful abscess formed; for 
 a fortnight his life was in great danger. Dr. I. now thinks 
 his limb may be saved. 
 
 Not a cock found in Wash s famous grounds. No wonder. 
 Plenty of hogs, oxen, and horses. 
 
 Found two woodcocks in a branch; killed both. The se 
 cond after, Woodson missed; also, a brace of partridges. St 
 George, one woodcock. Woodson and Redford, not a feather. 
 Game very scarce. Left the puppy at home. Dido behaved 
 to admiration. Woodson and Redford s guns are more than a 
 quarter of a pound heavier than mine. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. H5 
 
 LETTER CXIII. 
 
 Richmond, Thursday Night, Nov. 25, 1813. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I WAS highly gratified, to-day, by your letter of the 
 21st; for, yesterday, the post-office would not condescend to 
 afford me that pleasure. I wish you had touched, however 
 slightly, some of the topics of my last. You will readily 
 guess (as the Yankees say) those to which I refer. On far 
 ther reflection, I am really sorry that we resolved to break up 
 the pasture. The natives here (imported, as well as indi 
 genous,) have no conception of such a turf as that which re 
 quires four horses to cut the sod, with a coulter; and I believe 
 (for I did not hazard your name or veracity) that they sus 
 pected me of that vice, to which (according to honest Jack 
 Falstaff ) all this world is given. I really doubt the policy, 
 under " existing circumstances," of destroying this turf, which 
 is impregnable to the " hoof and the tooth." I forgot to tell 
 Jemmy to call at Wm. L. Morton s for the herd s grass seed. 
 Pray send there for it, and have it scattered on the new mea 
 dow. It was not my fault, however, that he did not bring 
 Garritt s saddle; for Mrs. R. and St. George both promised 
 that it should not be neglected, and I left it at Farmville on 
 purpose. 
 
 Why did you say nothing of Garritt s disposition to build 
 at Bizarre? As you are now a man of business, let me sug 
 gest to you that a letter, acknowledging the receipt of ano 
 ther, is not, necessarily, (logice,} an answer to it; (by the 
 way, you have not acknowledged the receipt of mine.) Look 
 over your letters when you write. Reply to the points of 
 moment; and superadd what you please, whether of business, 
 humour, or sentiment although, with Sir Peter Teazle, I 
 say, "damn sentiment:" but not the sentiment of an unso 
 phisticated heart like yours, my son. I thank you and Colo 
 nel Morton on the subject of the sheep. Tell him so; and I 
 
 19 
 
146 LETTERS OF 
 
 wish that you had taught Beazley by precept, rather than ex 
 ample, to use his own hands. 
 
 Cannot you meet me here, or on the road? say Farmville 
 or Amelia. You know not how much you are prized by 
 those who know you only as an acquaintance. Can you 
 wonder then, my dear Theodore, at the value, which I, who 
 know you, aufond, set upon you. 
 
 Good night, and may every blessing attend you. 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 I have heard from Dr. Robinson. He is reasonably well; 
 unchanged in heart. Mr. L. is gone to Berkeley. I guess 
 that he will bring Mrs. L. home with him. Pray come 
 down, if convenient and agreeable. 
 
 LETTER CXIV. 
 
 Bank of Virginia, Dec. 30, 1813. 
 My DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I HAVE just received your letter of the 26th. The 
 connexion which has so long subsisted between us, and which 
 nothing but death can dissolve, renders all profession, on ei 
 ther side, not only unnecessary, but improper; even although 
 we did not agree with the worthy Baronet, in "damning 
 all sentiment." Feeling towards you as a father, I natu 
 rally expect you to act towards me as a son. As to the word 
 gratitude, let it be expunged from our vocabulary. I must 
 not, however, be debarred the pleasure of expressing some 
 times my sense of the aid and comfort which I derive from 
 you; at the expense, I know, of your interest, and, in many 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 147 
 
 instances, I fear, of your feelings. Do not misunderstand me: 
 I mean that such a life as you must lead at Roanoke, is un- 
 suited to your character and disposition, and, therefore, I am 
 anxious that you should remove to this (or some other) town. 
 
 Pray look at my first memorandum, by Jupiter. Among the 
 enumerated articles, I remember my blue coat and goggles: 
 the surtout I do not want; but my clothes from Gibb s, (the 
 tailor at the C. H.,) I do. 
 
 I wish you, with St. George, to select seven hands, of such 
 as are willing to go, principally men and boys, for Bizarre 
 and Michaux; of course, not our prime ploughmen, prizers, &c. 
 
 I want the smith s shop put up with all convenient des 
 patch, between Simons and Essex s houses, near, or on, the 
 old brick yard; but not so as to stop a road which I mean to 
 open between the foot of the hill and the pasture gate, pass 
 ing near both those houses. 
 
 I enclose a check for $100, in favour of Garritt. I would 
 send the notes, but I preferred the check as the safer mode; 
 so I handed the notes to the Doctor, and drew for the money. 
 
 Adieu! my dear Theodore, and believe me, as ever, 
 Yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 LETTER CXV. 
 
 Bank of Virginia, Dec. 22, 1813. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 You will, doubtless, be surprised to receive another 
 letter from me, written in Richmond; but you know how 
 helpless a creature I am; and when I tell you that my man 
 Jupiter has been hors du combat, by a bad cut on the leg, 
 against the " rock " (marble slabs) on the stair-case, and by 
 
148 LETTERS OF 
 
 an axe which flew off the halve, as he was splitting wood, and 
 had nearly given him his quietus, you may imagine that I 
 have hardly been able to make a shift for myself, even in 
 Richmond. 
 
 By Quashia I send a piece of blankets, and eighteen pair of 
 stockings, having already given a pair a-piece to each of the 
 wagonners and boys. Give them another pair a-piece, and 
 distribute the other dozen as may seem best. 1 send, also, a 
 bolt of Oznaburghs, out of which furnish the wagonners with 
 two shirts each, and the boys the same; also, great coats of 
 the No. 5 cottons. The remainder of the linen, and the 
 blankets, to be distributed to such as most need. I have 
 given little Henry one blanket. 
 
 The boys tell me that you had not got home when they set 
 out. I enclose fifty dollars for your own use. If a cipher 
 were added to the sum, it would be a scanty compensation 
 for the services which you have rendered me during the past 
 year as a professional man. 
 
 I will write again by post. 
 
 Yours, ever, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 All the old-fashioned good wishes of the season to you. 
 
 LETTER CXVI. 
 
 Richmond, Jan. 8, 1814. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 QUASHIA got down last night. I was apprehensive that 
 the wagons had set out just as the bad weather commenced. 
 I have been detained here by a very unpleasant piece of bu 
 siness, which I hope to terminate to-day. I should have 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 149 
 
 sent up the gun, but I was really afraid that she would be 
 injured by the jolting of the wagon. Ryland sent Knowles s 
 gun of his own mere notion. I am disappointed at getting 
 no letter, or goggles, from you. The glare of the snow puts 
 my eyes out, and I cannot get a pair with green glasses in 
 town. 
 
 You will have heard the news from Europe before this 
 reaches you. Advices from London, as late as the 14th of 
 November, state that the tyrant had reached Mentz, with 
 from 20 to 30,000 of his shattered army. Of course, the 
 retreat by Erfurth could not have been cut off, as is stated 
 in Sir Charles Stewart s letter of October 19th; that place 
 being in the direct line from Leipzig to Mentz as, indeed, 
 is Weissenfels (and Naumburg, nearly) so that I cannot 
 very well understand that part of his despatch which relates 
 to the orders of the King of Prussia, to detach in that direc 
 tion. I had supposed that, from Bonaparte s taking the 
 route of the Saale, towards Brunswick, he could not strike 
 the Rhine higher than Dusseldorf. But you have better 
 maps than are accessible to me, here. Read the Prince Re 
 gent s speech on opening parliament, and compare his digni 
 fied mention of this country, and even of France, with Mr. 
 Madison s rant. Yet this rant is well suited to the meridian 
 of Washington. I cannot conceive who it is that writes the 
 speeches of the English Vitellius Lord Liverpool, most 
 probably: but 1 wish he would lend his aid to the Ameri 
 can * * * * . These two worthy rulers seem to agree so 
 well in their notions about carrying on the war, that, per 
 chance, they might interchange speeches as well as mea 
 sures. Mr. M. makes war upon our commerce, and the 
 Prince Regent seconds him by a rigorous blockade. Mr. M. 
 thinks it not rigorous enough that neutrals will elude it: 
 he gets himself created dictator by law, and even neutrals 
 are prohibited from carrying out of the country one pound 
 of its produce. This law is met, half way on its passage 
 across the Atlantic, by a British order in council, authorizing 
 the capture of all neutrals trading to the United States. 
 
150 LETTERS OF 
 
 I send you a newspaper, and little Echo: pray take care 
 of her. 
 
 In haste, yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Bell, and the Dr. and Mrs. B., make kind 
 inquiries after you. 
 
 LETTER CXVII. 
 
 Richmond, Monday, Jan. 24, 1814. 
 
 From the Bank of Virginia. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 WITH their usual attention to the public convenience, 
 the familiars of the post-office have changed the day of ar 
 rival and departure of the mails. I was apprized of this 
 fact by the receipt, this morning, of your welcome letter of 
 the 13th, (post marked the 18th;) the only one which I have 
 received from you for several weeks past. I have been too 
 long acquainted with the manoeuvring of the sex, and espe 
 cially of the lady in question, to be surprised at what you tell 
 me: for which of my sins it is I know not, that I have sus 
 tained this long and heavy persecution, (more hot and gall 
 ing than the dreadful fire which killed nine of Gen. Harri 
 son s mounted riflemen;) but I humbly hope that the penance 
 will reduce the " balance " against me (to speak a la J^er- 
 ginienne) on a final settlement. 
 
 Bonaparte has met with another defeat, near Francfort, 
 (on the Maine, I presume,) and Lord Wellington has, by 
 this time, entered Bayonne. Pampelune surrendered with 
 4,500 men. I send you some newspapers by Beverley, who 
 arrived on Friday night, and who does not seem to be in any 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 151 
 
 very great hurry to get home. He is much pleased with 
 military life; and I should not be surprised (if our army were 
 on a better footing) at his entering upon that profession. 
 
 William Leigh promised to call on you as he went home. 
 Watkins Leigh is well, much fattened, and inspirited by 
 matrimony. Bouldin, too, is here; a heavy draft from our 
 country of abilities and integrity. 
 
 Perhaps you think that I never mean to go to Philadel 
 phia, or return home: and, indeed, you have cause to enter 
 tain such a surmise. I have been detained here by circum 
 stances which, at some future day, I will explain to you. 
 They are too long for a letter. 
 
 Mr. W. M. W. has made up to me a good deal this win 
 ter, and speaks to certain persons, (B , Mercer, Powell, 
 
 &c.,) in such a way, as leaves no doubt of his desire for a re 
 conciliation. He told P., that my hauteur to him caused 
 him to vote against me! 
 
 I fear I shall lose the opportunity of Beverley; he has 
 been missing ever since yesterday morning. Keep a sharp 
 look out on Cambay and Beadles. 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 Mrs. Bell went yesterday to Kingston, Dinwiddie, to see 
 her mother, who has been very ill with a pleurisy, but is 
 now out of danger. Kingston is in the south-east part of 
 the county, about twenty-five miles from Petersburgh. She 
 will return this day week. Her sister, Mrs. Haxall, accom 
 panied her. Miss Barton remains at "Belmont." 
 
 I have letters from Bleecker, Quincy, Tudor, and Rut- 
 ledge. If I had answered them, I should enclose them to 
 you; but they poured in this morning, according to the pro 
 verb. 
 
 Dr. and Mrs. B. salute you. You must come and live 
 here. 
 
152 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER CXVIII. 
 
 Bank of Virginia, Feb. 9, 1814, 
 
 11, A. M. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter was handed to me a few minutes ago, at 
 
 Dr. B s, by old Quashia.- I thank you for this mark of 
 
 your attention; for, to say the truth, I have never failed get 
 ting a letter from you by the wagons, or the mail, without 
 a feeling of disappointment. But when I think I perceive 
 the cause of your uncommunicativeness to arise from the fa 
 tigue to which you have exposed yourself on my account, 
 or, perhaps, to low spirits, the effect of your present unplea 
 sant situation, it makes me uneasy. I have been, indeed, 
 very much disturbed of late, by an occurrence as unexpect 
 ed as it is distressing; and, perhaps, I tinge other objects 
 with the hue of the medium through which I observe them. 
 
 I sent the books for your entertainment. Why the pa 
 pers do not arrive I am at a loss to conceive, unless through 
 the negligence of the post-office. They are not forwarded 
 to me, here: perhaps they are detained at Charlotte C. H. 
 I think I have heard of such a practice there, last winter. 
 
 I send a capital Scotch plough for four horses, and cast 
 ings for another: we must see if our folks can make one. I 
 wish you would have all the clover seed sown at the middle 
 quarter. Cambey may take the Diomed mare and the mule 
 at the lower quarter. Perhaps it would not injure some of 
 the young horses to plough them: at least, it will not after 
 the ground is broken up. I am grieved that we are likely 
 to be disappointed of ice. 
 
 Will you be so good as to plant out (if to be found) some 
 wild cherry and wild currant (alias Corinth) trees. 
 
 Quashia (the man, not the wood,) interrupts me. 
 Yours, ever, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 153 
 
 LETTER CXIX. 
 
 Richmond, Friday, Feb. 17, 1814. 
 
 I REACHED this place with my little charge, on Sunday 
 last, too late to write to you, my dear Theodore. I found 
 Tudor here, not at all improved in health since I saw him in 
 New York. I fear, both from my own observation, and what 
 I hear, that he is not sufficiently careful of himself. Yes 
 terday the whole town was thrown into great joy by the cer 
 tainty of peace. The preliminaries were signed on the 24th 
 of December. Great as my calculations have always been, 
 on the folly of the British ministry, I have never made suf 
 ficient allowance on that score. Their ill-contrived expedi 
 tion against New Orleans was carrying on at the very mo 
 ment that they were giving us peace. What a wanton waste 
 of gallant men ! 
 
 I shall set out next week for Roanoke. My horses want 
 ed rest, and I have some arrangements to make here which 
 have detained me, and may, probably, keep me longer than 
 I intended. I shall endeavour to bring Tudor with me. 
 Present me to your mother and sister, if they be with you. 
 Most truly, yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 I received a letter from you whilst I was at Mr. Ridge- 
 ly s. It had been forwarded from Philadelphia. It was 
 written soon after Tudor left you. Dr. G. and Mr. and Mrs. 
 S. Ridgely desire their respects to you. They all made par 
 ticular inquiries after you; as did Dr. and Mrs. B, 
 
 Remember me to Colonel Morton. 
 
 20 
 
154 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER CXX. 
 
 Richmond, Monday, March 7, 1814. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I RECEIVED your letter by Quashia, yesterday, after 
 morning service; of course, nothing could be done until to 
 day. I directed Ryland, however, to get the chief article, 
 iron, as soon as possible, this morning; but there are some 
 other things that I wish to send up, and I have been so un 
 well for the last week as to be incapable of any thing. You 
 and Tudor are, in one respect, two provoking correspon 
 dents. You have the art of writing letters without putting 
 any thing in them and of answering, without replying 
 to your correspondent Add to this, that your epistles bear 
 strong symptoms of hypochondriasis. That you, my dear 
 Theodore, should be affected in this way, is not wonderful, 
 considering the life you lead. I can scarcely bear to think 
 of it. You, my dear Theodore, are the chief stay and com 
 fort of my life, and it grieves me to think that you should 
 be buried in the wilds of Roanoke, especially when I see 
 so many dolts, here, succeeding in the profession, of which 
 you have made yourself master. I think I must insist on 
 your removal. I know, and admire the motive that keeps 
 you where you are; and it serves but to rivet my esteem of 
 you. I hope, however, that it will not prevent you follow 
 ing the bent of your inclination, should it prompt a visit to 
 Tennessee. 
 
 I send up by Quashia some sugar and coffee. I am afraid 
 that you are too fastidious with me, and refrain from men 
 tioning the wants of our little cabin. For heaven s sake, 
 my dear Theodore, let there be none of this between us. 
 You have a right to look upon me as a father, as I do on you 
 as a son. I never fail to command you. Do thou likewise. 
 
 I shall send coal, provided it will not interfere with some 
 furniture that I have bought. Quashia brings a bushel of 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 155 
 
 clover seed. It is rather late, but I wish it sowed on some 
 rich spot, at the middle quarter; and if not ground enough 
 to be had there, the remainder at the ferry, say on the wheat 
 land; although it would succeed better with oats, if we had 
 the land to receive them. 
 
 We will also give you some books, pamphlets, &c., which 
 may serve to amuse you; and some late papers, English as 
 well as American. 
 
 The very same thought of promoting little Quash, to the 
 command of the ferry wagon, had suggested itself to me 
 before you mentioned it; and I had determined to carry it 
 into execution. Your plan of hiring the carriage of the re 
 maining tobacco is highly proper and advisable. 
 
 I shall sell my colts and fillies at the May races, if practi 
 cable, and the English mares with them. If any one will 
 give you a thousand dollars for Gracchus, take it. 
 
 The Doctor and Mrs. Brockenbrough desire their best re 
 membrance to you. I dined at Bellville, on Friday, and 
 Mrs. B. and Miss Barton inquired after you. 
 
 Adieu, dear Theodore! 
 
 I am, most truly, yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 Pray read Frank Key s discourse. No other paper. I 
 send you none. 
 
 LETTER CXXI. 
 
 Richmond, Sunday, March 20, 1814. 
 Mv DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I HAVE just now received your welcome letter of the 
 13th, (this day week.) Surely the wise ones have made some 
 
156 LETTERS OF 
 
 strange change in our mail establishment, when it lakes a 
 week to send a letter a hundred miles. My dear son, the 
 state of your health, and the evident depression of your spi 
 rits, were not unobserved by me when we met three years 
 ago, on the road from Washington to Baltimore. It cost me 
 many a heart-ach to see the ravages which a winter in Phila 
 delphia had made on your constitution, and natural cheerful 
 ness. I ascribed them, I believe, to the right cause; but as 
 you had not confided that cause to me, so neither did I feel 
 myself at liberty to inquire concerning it of others. But this 
 .circumstance made so deep an impression on my mind, that 
 I felt reluctant at the thoughts of your return the next win 
 ter; although I kept it to myself. The world has used me so 
 ill yet, why blame the world? Those from whom I had a 
 right to expect a very different conduct, have betrayed such 
 shameless selfishness, so bare-faced a disregard of my feelings, 
 and of my rights, that, but for you, I should sink into inve 
 terate misanthropy. Nature (to use a certain fashion, of 
 speaking) intended me for something very different from what 
 J am. I have been ossified by a petrifying world. All life, 
 and spirit, and confidence, and enthusiasm: I have become 
 .cold, suspicious, and dead to every better feeling, except 
 through a sort of faint remembrance of such as I formerly ex 
 perienced. But enough of this egotism. 
 
 There are two not unknown/ but unmentioned ladies, 
 who haye spoken of you to me in very flattering terms; the 
 
 fashionable Miss M , and the elegant Mrs. W . The 
 
 latter expressed her regret at being from home when you 
 .called. Mrs* Bell often inquires after you. She is my chief 
 
 resource of female society, and reminds me of Mrs. G ! 
 
 The dignity and elegance of her pursuits, compared with the 
 frivolous occupations or inane indolence of our ladies, in ge 
 neral, give a new charm to the beauty of her person, and the 
 polish of her manners. I dined there a few days ago, and 
 have quite overcome the coyness of little IVJary Anne, who 
 says, " /love Mr. R." For the misses of this, our day, (al 
 ways excepting Miss Caton and Miss Barton,) I have no great 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 157 
 
 penchant; and the notables, although very good house-keep 
 ers, are but poor companions. By the way, do you know 
 that La Belle Goldsborough is Mrs. W. Fitzhugh? The bell 
 rings, and I must to church. The Doctor and lady return 
 your compliments. He is the best man in the world, and 
 she a very superior woman. Her understanding is mascu 
 line, and well improved by reading: but her misfortunes (how 
 should they fail) have cast a sombre hue over her temper and 
 manners. 
 
 I shall get your shirting and mine at the same time. 
 
 Yours, ever, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 Charles Sterrett Ridgely desires to be remembered warm 
 ly to you. " Thanks to you (he writes to me) for entirely 
 curing me of my military mania. I no longer pant after that 
 phantom, military fame; am content with my lot, and wish 
 only to be distinguished as an honest man, and a good citi 
 zen; and now, that I think soberly and seriously, it is a sub 
 ject of astonishment that I should ever, for a moment, have 
 thought of resigning the comforts of domestic life, the socie 
 ty of my wife and children, and of friends, whom I sincerely 
 love, to mix with the unprincipled and profligate, and to be 
 come the slave and tool of men, whose principles I cannot but 
 detest; and that, too, in a cause which I consider to be most 
 unjust." 
 
 I am going to Bellville after church, and will leave my let 
 ter open until I return. Mr. Parish is at Ogdensburg. He 
 has been there since January. 
 
 I have seen Mrs. B. She returns her acknowledgments for 
 your politeness. I did not see Mr. B. 
 
158 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER CXXIL 
 
 Richmond, May 16, 1814. 
 
 Monday Morning. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I shall send your linen by Quashia, as no wagon can 
 be found going towards Roanoke. I hope you will not set 
 out until you hear from me, once more. You make no men 
 tion of Mr. Stanford. How is this? I have sold the colts 
 for $150 each. I know that they are worth more, but "ne 
 cessity, &c." I wish, when you write to me, you would call 
 to mind such objects as you suppose would interest me: even 
 the dogs, and little Molly, I would rather hear of than no 
 thing. There have been incessant rains during the last fort 
 night; the earth is supersaturated with water, and the crops 
 of wheat, generally ruined, except upon poor lands, that ne 
 ver produce any thing worth the trouble of the planter. Oats 
 are, consequently, very fine; and the grounds around Bell- 
 ville are as green as a leek. Mrs. B., however, is drooping. 
 She proposes going to Kingston, (her mother s, in Dinwid- 
 die,) in a few days. She often mentions you; so do the Doc 
 tor and Mrs. B. Of Bouldin I see nothing, and scarcely any 
 thing of Leigh. 
 
 News from Europe: Bonaparte has been roughly han 
 dled by the allies; but Austria refuses to accede to his de 
 thronement. Armistice on the 5th of March, and general 
 peace expected. Mr. Parish, who has got back to Philadel 
 phia, writes that the whole Christian world will be at peace 
 by the 4th of July next. A letter from Tudor, of the 2d of 
 May he was well; so was Mr. Garnett,onthe 9th: both de 
 sire to be remembered by you. Adieu! 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 I hear of a great fresh in Roanoke. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 159 
 
 LETTER CXXIIT. 
 
 Camp Fairfield, Sept. 2, 1814. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 You may be surprised at not hearing from me; but, 
 1st, I lost my horses. 2dly, I got a violent bilious com 
 plaint, not cholera, but cousin-german to it. 3dly, I heard 
 the news of Washington, and, without delay, proceeded hither. 
 I am now under orders to proceed to the brick house, forty- 
 two miles on York road, just below the confluence of Pa- 
 munkey and Mattapony, Should you come down, report 
 yourself to the surgeon general, Doctor Jones, of Nottoway; 
 but first come to camp and see Watkins Leigh, the governor s 
 aid. Apply to Ry. R. for what money you may want. 
 God bless you, my son. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke, 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 
 LETTER CXXIV. 
 
 Richmond, Sept. 7, 1814, 
 
 THIS, I believe, is the third letter that I have written 
 to you, to-day, my dear Theodore. In truth, I can think of 
 nothing but you; for, of poor dear Tudor and his unfortu 
 nate brother, I try to think not at all. You will hear from 
 me, whenever I indulge myself in rest and sleep; and beg 
 that you will write by every conveyance that offers. I have 
 many anxious hours on your subjects. I know, indeed, that 
 according to vulgar arithmetic, you might be esteemed my 
 debtor; but I am conscious, that, upon the strictest scrutiny? 
 
160 LETTERS OF 
 
 I can never repay you, even in a pecuniary point of view, 
 one half of what I owe you. I shall be at home, I hope, by 
 the last of next month; at any rate, by Christmas: and I 
 wish you to make up your mind to remove to Richmond by 
 that time, unless you can reconcile yourself to the abandon 
 ment of your country practice, and sharing with me as a 
 son. How i it, that you alone should persist in overpay 
 ing me, when I find all others insensible of what the world 
 calls obligation? I repeat, that in a mere account of profit 
 and loss, I have gained from your medical services, alone, 
 more than any expense to which I may have been put on 
 the score of your education. Of the satisfaction that I have 
 had in your society, I will say nothing; for there is no rela 
 tion beiween it and a matter of money. 
 Most truly, yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 LETTER CXXV. 
 
 Richmond, Oct. 8, 1814. 
 Saturday Morning, 2 o clock. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 MR. JONES S servant, who promised to wake me at 
 three, has been better than his word by more than two 
 hours. I heard ten strike soon after I got to bed, and by 
 the time that I had dressed, it struck one. I lay down again 
 in the hopes of getting a little sleep, but found my mind too 
 anxious to succeed. This is the fourth letter that I have ad 
 dressed to you within twelve or eighteeen hours. 
 
 It is possible that I may have occasion for Essex. Get 
 him some decent clothes, (Gibbs can make them,) and some 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 161 
 
 shoes; if necessary, give him the best of my boots my 
 great coat, or your own three pair of the best woollen 
 stockings that 1 left behind. He will find my old hat, here, 
 in Jones s care, which he will take. Get him some good 
 shirts: if they cannot be had, let him take mine. He can 
 bring down Everlasting, or Tudor s mare, and wait for far 
 ther orders from Mr. Robert K. Jones. 
 
 Yours, always, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 LETTER CXXVI. 
 
 Baltimore, Oct. 13, 1814. 
 
 Thursday. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I HAVE been detained here since Monday, by the 
 consequences of an accident that befell me at Port Conway 
 (opposite Port Royal) on Monday morning. At 3 o clock 
 I was roused to set out in the stage: mistaking, in the dark, 
 a very steep staircase for a passage, at the end of which I 
 expected to find the descent walking boldly on, I fell from 
 the top to the bottom, and was taking up senseless. My 
 left shoulder and elbow were severely hurt; also, the right 
 ankle. My hat saved my head, which was bruised, but not 
 cut. Nevertheless, 1 persevered, got on to Georgetown, and 
 the next day came to this place, where I have been com 
 pelled to remain in great pain. I am now better, and shall 
 limp on to Philadelphia to-morrow. Sterett Ridgely and 
 Dr. Gibson inquire particularly after you. So did Stanford. 
 I found Leigh here, but he was obliged to go on, next day, 
 to Fredericktown. 
 
 21 
 
162 LETTERS OF 
 
 The random shot that killed Ross, saved Baltimore. Ge 
 neral Winfield Scott, passed on yesterday to Washington. 
 Poor Winder is the scape-goat to Monroe, who made all the 
 arrangements at Bladensburg. 
 
 Remember me to St. George. I shall write again, fully r 
 from Philadelphia. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 No application was made to my bruises until my arrival 
 here on Monday night. Nicholson has not called on me! 
 Washington is ruined. The walls of the Capitol and Palace 
 are rapidly decomposing. The massy columns in the Hall 
 of the Representatives are not larger than the ordinary poles 
 of which we build tobacco houses. The Navy Yard is utterly 
 torn up and destroyed. The public offices, archives, &c., 
 gone for ever. Send me a good impression of my small seal. 
 Address to West Farms, New York. Written on my back. 
 
 LETTER CXXVII. 
 
 Philadelphia, Oct. 19, 1814 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 MRS. C. has never married: it was Mr. C s. sister-in- 
 law; now again a widow. Mrs. C. is hurt beyond measure 
 at the report, which she says was believed by all her ac 
 quaintances out of Philadelphia, and by some there. 
 
 Fortunately, Mrs. R. did not deliver my letter to Mrs. 
 A. Mr. and Mrs. C. are well kind beyond measure the 
 boys rather puny Randolph less so than his brother. All 
 talk with warm regard of you: so does Dr. Chapman, with 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 163 
 
 whom I dined yesterday at Mr. T. W. Francis s. Mr. Pa 
 rish, with whom I dined the day before, Mr. Meredith, and 
 many more, were present on the occasion. Mr. P. begs, and 
 Dr. C., also, the most cordial remembrance to you. You 
 must come here to live, I think. Mr. Ashmead, jr., is ill; 
 Tudor is out of all immediate danger: so a letter from Mr. 
 Morris, that met me here, and another yesterday from his 
 mother, tell me. Adieu. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 LETTER CXXVIII. 
 
 Morrisania, Oct. 23, 1814. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 AFTER various accidents, one of which had nearly 
 put an end to my unprosperous life, and confined me nearly a 
 week on the road, I reached this place yesterday. Tudor is 
 better. I have hopes of him, if we can get him to Virginia 
 in his present plight. 
 
 I found your letter of the 6th, here. Poor St. George, 
 ill-starred, unfortunate boy! his destiny was sealed before 
 his birth, or conception. Take care of yourself! You are 
 my last stay. I must beg of you to curtail your practice, 
 with a view to a change of life. Talk not to me of gratitude 
 you owe me nothing. I must deprecate your resentment: 
 your actions, and not your tongue, have spoken of gratitude; 
 but for you, I should not believe in the existence of such a 
 quality amongst mankind. You, who persist in overpaying 
 me a thousand fold ; whilst every other person on whom I 
 have conferred a favour worth remembering, has returned 
 DETRACTION and dislike for the deed. 
 
164 LETTERS OF 
 
 I have found a market for the brood mares. 
 Yours, ever, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 Stephen, old S s. son, is with us: we set out on the day 
 after to-morrow. 
 
 LETTER CXXIX. 
 
 New York, Nov. 17, 1814. 
 Thursday. 
 
 IT is not my fault, but my misfortune, my dear Theodore, 
 that you have not heard from me since I left Baltimore. I 
 wrote to you from Philadelphia, and made express mention 
 of your friends there, and of their particular inquiries after 
 you. Mrs. Clay, Mr. and Mrs. Croskey, Dr. Chapman; 
 Mr. Parish, too, was pointed in his questions. As soon as 
 I had seen Tudor, I wrote to you concerning him, and my 
 self, also; for, on returning from Morrisania on Sunday the 
 24th of October, the driver overturned me in Cortlandt 
 Street, by driving over a pile of stones, &c., before a new 
 house, unfinished, which nuisance extended more than half 
 way across a narrow street. I am very seriously injured. 
 The patella is, in itself, unhurt but the ligaments are very 
 much wrenched, so that a tight bandage alone enables me to 
 hobble from one room to another, with the help of a stick. 
 I have written every week since. Your letters of the 6th 
 and 16th of October, and 7th of November, came to hand: 
 the last this day. But one from Mr. R. K. Jones, of the 6th 
 of November, did not reach me until yesterday; and another 
 from Tudor, written at Philadelphia on the 2nd, is entirely 
 lost. Others broken open, (one from Mr. Quincy,) and de 
 layed intolerably. Nay, I am subject to other ill treatment 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 165 
 
 into the bargain, for insisting that my letters shall be deli 
 vered to my servant, and to him only. 
 
 I hope to be able to bear the motion of a carriage, by the 
 last of this week. I shall then go on to Philadelphia, and 
 hope to see you by the first week of next month. Assured 
 ly, (God willing,) before Christmas. I am a poor miserable 
 cripple, and you are my only support. God bless you, my 
 son. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 Mr. Bleecker is here, and all to me that I could wish. 
 
 LETTER CXXX. 
 
 Philadelphia, Dec. 4, 1814. 
 MY BEST FRIEND, 
 
 ON my arrival here, (four days ago,) I hoped to have 
 found a letter from you, but was disappointed; and a sore dis 
 appointment it was. I scribbled you a few lines, the same 
 evening, at Mr. P s, that I might lose no time in ap 
 prizing you how, or where I was. Poor Mrs. C.! ano 
 ther brother has been taken from her since I left this place, 
 for New York. I feared as much, but did not dare to ask. 
 At last, yesterday, came a meagre letter from Tudor, an 
 nouncing that, in consequence of Mr. A s. death, he had 
 not delivered my letter to Mrs. C., on the subject of my 
 little name-sake. It is dated at Richmond, on the 25th of 
 November the second letter, of one straggling page, that he 
 has written me from that place. Not a word of you, or his 
 brother. Although at a great sacrifice of time, health, and 
 what, to a man in debt, is of more consequence than either of 
 
166 LETTERS OF 
 
 the former, I went on to New York to assist his mother home: 
 she has not deigned to drop me a line, or even to mention me 
 in her son s letters. Notwithstanding he staid three days in 
 Philadelphia, and I begged him to sit for me to Sully, she 
 would not permit him, under the thin pretext that the paint 
 would prove injurious to his lungs; although Sully would 
 have waited on him at his lodgings, or would have taken him 
 in water colours. Tudor says, "I am extremely sorry, my 
 self, about the picture, and thought it very practicable and 
 easy to have one taken." - t 
 
 I wrote to you a letter, on the morning of my departure 
 from this place for New York; I think the 18th of October. 
 I have written since, not less than once a week; often twice 
 and thrice. The first use I made of myself, after my fall at 
 New York, was to give you an account of my disaster. Your 
 last letter is of the 16th of November, acknowledging mine 
 from Baltimore. This is, probably, the last that I shall ad 
 dress to you from this place; but, no matter, write on to Stan 
 ford s care. By clapping a large, hot waxen seal on your 
 letter, he defaced entirely the impression of your seal, as your 
 second had done of the first. 
 
 Every body here speaks highly of you particularly the 
 
 C s and C s. I met Dr. G. yesterday. He was 
 
 very cordial. Mr. C. pressed me to take a bed at his 
 house; so did Mr. P., who has been all kindness and atten 
 tion to me. 
 
 My knee is irreparably ruined. The patella is detached 
 from the joint; the muscles on each side are, in the tendinous 
 parts, ruptured. Jt is now six weeks since the accident hap 
 pened; and, without strong bandages and a stick, I could not 
 hobble along. 
 
 I leave you to judge how anxious I am to hear from you. 
 Poor St. George ! he has never written to me at all neither 
 did I expect or wish it. 
 
 Farewell, my dear Theodore. 
 Yours, 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 167 
 
 As my letter of October 18th was, probably, violated, let 
 me not forget to mention that Dr. C. spoke of you with 
 the warmest regard; also, a lady that shall be nameless. 
 
 LETTER CXXXI. 
 
 York Buildings, Dec. 24, 1814. 
 
 THIS is the 27th day since my arrival here; and, in all that 
 time, I have not heard a syllable from you. My anxiety on 
 this subject would be less, had I heard from you within the 
 last fortnight of my stay in New York; but, since the 17th of 
 November, when your letter of the 7th came to hand, I have 
 not received a line from you. Let me earnestly entreat you, 
 my best friend, not to leave me again in this state of suspense; 
 and should you be sick, and nobody have the humanity to in 
 form me of it, unsolicited let me beg of you to request some 
 neighbour to write me, if it be but one line, to tell me how 
 you are. In your next, let me know the dates of the letters 
 which you have received from me, since I sent Jupiter home. 
 In looking over yours I can find but three: Oct. 6 and 16, and 
 Nov. 7. During that period, I have written to you (besides 
 my letters from Amelia and Richmond) from Baltimore, on 
 the 18th of October; from this place, on the 19th; and from 
 New York, always once a week, often twice, and sometimes 
 thrice, from the 21st of October to the 26th of November, in 
 clusive. Since I came to Philadelphia, I have written twice. 
 I am thus particular, because you most generally omit to no 
 tice the receipt of my letters, as well as some of the topics on 
 which they treat. 
 
 I ate my Christmas dinner, yesterday, with Mr. C., and 
 spent the evening with Dr. and Mrs. G. At both places you 
 were the subject of conversation; and they all flattered me by 
 
168 LETTERS OF 
 
 discovering a likeness between us. The Doctor and his lady 
 
 seem to be most cordially attached to you; so do the C s, 
 
 and C s, and G s. I came home in high spirits, con 
 fident of a letter from you, this morning yesterday being 
 Sunday, we did not send to the post-office and, in the hila 
 rity of this hope, I sat in my chamber, with Mr. P., until 
 twelve. This morning, at breakfast, the carrier arrived with 
 a huge packet, but te nothing for me;" and my heart has sunk 
 as low as the mercury, this bitter cold day. From Tudor, 
 since he left me, I have received three scanty pages of wide 
 and straggling lines, each. I sometimes ask myself, " What 
 can be the matter? I have written and talked to my boys 
 too much. They hardly deign a word, or a line, in reply. 
 Had I been more reserved, they would have been less un 
 communicative." Then, again, I say, " What man ever had 
 a better son than my Theodore ? one more dutiful, more af 
 fectionate, more manly, and independent? Poor fellow; he 
 is tired of drudging for me, and for himself, too; besides, the 
 rascally post-masters do I know their tricks ? or, perhaps, 
 he may be sick." This thought is cruel; for I must wait a 
 change in the weather before R. can travel. 
 
 Nothing but the want of letters from home could have pre 
 vented this being the happiest month of the last fifteen years 
 of my life. 
 
 Adieu! write me long, garrulous letters. 
 Yours, 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 My knee is better. 
 
 On the impress of my seal you clapped another hot one, 
 and S. another upon that so that it was all stuck together 
 like so much sugar candy; and I could make nothing of it. 
 Pray send the next to S., with a request to seal with a wafer. 
 You have not said one word of Dido or her puppies, or my 
 poor old Carlo, or little Molly, or Essex, or Jupiter, or Nan 
 cy. J>en suisfacfik. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 169 
 
 LETTER CXXXIL 
 
 York Buildings, Dec. 27, 1814. 
 
 I FOUND your letter upon my table, yesterday, when I re 
 turned from my morning visits, to dress for dinner. It was 
 a most sensible relief to me, as you may suppose, from the 
 complexion of my letter, written yesterday morning which 
 I now almost regret to have sent: however, you will receive 
 this at the same time; and it may not be amiss to have shown 
 you how important it is to my comfort to hear from you, if not 
 regularly, at least at shorter intervals than of fifty days. I 
 perceive that, in your last, you acknowledge to have received 
 my letter of the 17th of November, in answer to yours of the 
 7th; so that, exclusively of two others, from this place, it was 
 your turn to write: but you are not the only correspondent 
 who has alleged, as a reason for not replying to my letters, 
 that he expected to hear from me again. I had arranged 
 the epistolary campaign with admirable skill. My friend S., 
 at Washington city, occupying the middle ground, was se 
 lected as the medium of communication, and was to forward 
 to the north, or send back to the south, all packets ad 
 dressed to me, agreeably to the instructions he should re 
 ceive; and, being on the main line of daily posts, I kept him 
 advised, twice or thrice a week, of my movements or posi 
 tion so that, upon the whole, my dear doctor, I cannot per 
 ceive the equity of your plea, of "ignorance where a letter 
 would meet me." 
 
 I am truly gratified to hear that your mother has been with 
 you. I hope she will soon return and solace your solitude 
 with her presence. When I shall get back, is, as yet, un 
 certain, from the state of the weather. I shudder at facing the 
 north-west wind, in an open carriage, with my young charge. 
 1 hope you did not communicate to your mother any part of 
 my letter, except that which contained the request that she 
 
 22 
 
170 LETTERS OF 
 
 would relate the circumstances of my brother s death. Her 
 visit to Virginia was entirely unexpected by me; I hope to 
 have the pleasure of seeing her before she returns to Tennes 
 see. Her company, at all times the most desirable to you, 
 must, under present circumstances, possess an unusual charm. 
 You mention nothing (more vestro) of your father and fami 
 ly particularly, of my favourite Fanny. 
 
 I regret, too, that you make no mention of your friends 
 here, who speak of you with the most cordial regard. Dr. 
 and Mrs. G., the C s, G s, Mrs. H., a most charm 
 ing woman, and Dr. and Mrs. Ch. I have seen, too, your 
 pretty Mrs. W., and am invited to dine there, on Saturday; 
 but two previous invitations prevent my ending the year thus 
 agreeably. I commence it with Mrs. W. 
 
 This cold weather will, I trust, fill our ice-house. Your 
 care respecting the negroes clothing, and every thing else, 
 demands more than I can repay. You say, " Quashia saw 
 Mr. R., on his return from Richmond." I hope he has not 
 forgotten my orders on the subject of returning via Farm- 
 ville: they are express and peremptory; and I am resolved 
 on breaking up all communication between my estate and 
 that neighbourhood. 
 
 If you did not give old Essex my great coat, send it down 
 to Richmond, to Adam M., by the first safe conveyance. Re 
 member me to him, and Jupiter, and Nancy, and little Mol 
 ly, and Hetty, and all the people. I hope Jupiter does well. 
 Dr. C. says the fern is all a deception. It is a common 
 plant, growing about springs; but of no virtue in Tasnia.* I 
 am very anxious about my little bay Minimus. Also, re 
 specting the foals of Lady B. Duette, the heir of Brunette, 
 and Duette s grand-son. These 1 take to be the best on the 
 estate. The two years old colts are not much, except Lady 
 B s. ; which I wish to be well kept. Remember me to old 
 Carlo, and Dido, and Sancho. Farewell. You say nothing 
 
 * Aloes and spirits of turpentine are thought good remedies. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 171 
 
 of St. George s disease. I presume, therefore, he left you as 
 well as he was on the 16th of October. 
 Most truly, yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 Mr. P. remembers you kindly. 
 
 A letter from Mr. B. and Dr. M., of New York, in town; 
 both most acceptable events. 
 
 LETTER CXXXIII. 
 
 Richmond, Saturday Night. 
 
 November, 18, 1815. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 SINCE I wrote to you this morning, by Mr. Carring- 
 ton, who promised to send the letter to you as soon as he 
 got home, I learned from my friend Mrs. Cunningham, (who 
 makes the kindest inquiries after you,) that Mrs. Lacy is 
 dead. This breaks up all my schemes with regard to Ran 
 dolph, whom, of course, you will not send down. I shall 
 come up, or send for him, as soon as possible; but, as it is 
 raining very hard at this time, (half past eight,) and I am 
 not a Halifax man, I despatched this letter by Mr. Bruce to 
 advise you to that effect. He sets out to-morrow; and, al 
 though he has the influenza very badly, I have no doubt that 
 he will persevere in the journey. He was engaged, and the 
 "Captain bold," also, to dine at Mr. T s. on Wednesday 
 last. After keeping us waiting until dark, we sat down to 
 dinner, and next day learned that they were too busy load 
 ing their wagon to come. Mr. B. was engaged yesterday 
 to dine at Dr. B s., but business at R s. kept him away, as 
 
172 LETTERS OF 
 
 the Doctor was informed to-day. But I am growing scan 
 dalous. Mr. and Mrs. C., at whose house I am writing, send 
 their respects to you. 
 
 Yours, ever, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 Dr. Hoge preaches poor Tudor s funeral sermon this day 
 week at Cumberland Court House. 
 
 I am afraid you will have a dreadful time of it on your 
 way to Tennessee. The water-courses in that country will 
 be hardly passable. Suppose you spend the winter here, 
 and defer the journey until April. I fear for your health. 
 Messrs. C. and W. D., the last of whom has been to Nash 
 ville, represent it as a rash undertaking. Mr. D. has been 
 there: pray consult him before you set out. 
 
 LETTER CXXXIV. 
 
 Babel, Jan. 13, 1816. 
 Monday. 
 
 I WROTE to you on this day week from Georgetown. On 
 reaching the house, I learned that my brother Harry had 
 been overturned the day before in the Winchester stage, and 
 was dangerously hurt. I set out immediately, and found 
 him confined to his bed, about thirty miles above Alexan 
 dria. He was severely wounded, and has suffered extreme 
 pain; but I left him out of danger on Thursday morning. 
 Mrs. T. reached him on Thursday evening. On my return, 
 I found your letter of the 30th of December, and the en 
 closed elegant epistle unsealed. I am glad to hear that you 
 have anticipated my prescription, and rejoice in your sport- 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 173 
 
 ing success. This fine weather will, I hope, fill our ice 
 house a most important consideration. 
 
 Your Tennessee news is not so good. In a case of this 
 sort, however, I always pity the parents the child never. 
 
 You say nothing about the dogs. Has Sancho recovered 
 his eye-sight? Is Dido likely to have another litter, and 
 how comes on the puppy? 
 
 In haste and confusion. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 I have enclosed M. a check for his money. 
 
 LETTER CXXXV. 
 
 Jan. 21, 1816. 
 
 MY heart misgave me that something was wrong. Poor 
 Sally! I wish she had staid with us. My dear Theodore, 
 I am anxious about you to a degree that I cannot express. 
 I would not thwart one feeling of yours much less tear 
 you from your family under such circumstances. Come 
 home as soon as you can. Remember that I have lost my 
 parents, and my brethren. You have many left. This is 
 the first tribute that the grim King of Terrors has levied 
 tipon your family. Take comfort from what is left to you, 
 rather than dwell upon what you have lost. See Rutledge, 
 if you can. If not, send him my letter by a safe hand. I 
 wish you had added, if it had been but three lines, to tell 
 me how you are, and how the journey agreed with you. I 
 am well. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 THEO. BLAND DUDLEY, M. D. 
 
174 LETTERS OF 
 
 Mr. Charles S. R. left me yesterday morning: he desires 
 his best regards to you. 
 
 I am at S s., Georgetown; where I fare better than at my 
 old lodgings. 
 
 LETTER CXXXVI. 
 
 Baltimore, Sunday, Feb. 18, 1816. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR short and melancholy letter of December 29th, 
 excepted, I have received not a line from you since your de 
 parture for Tennessee. Judge my uneasiness at this cir 
 cumstance. Surely if you were ill you would get some one 
 of the family to write, if it were but a line. I last night 
 sprained both my thumbs, and several fingers of each hand, 
 in trying to save my face from the consequences of a fall oc 
 casioned by treading, at the top of a steep staircase, on my 
 own tail the surtouts now reaching to the shoe buckles, and 
 being somewhat a better defence to gentlemen s legs than 
 that afforded to the feet of ladies by their petticoats j ladies 
 having, you know, no legs. 
 
 I shall write again as soon as I get back to the city of 0. 
 Many kind inquiries after you by Sterrett R., Dr. G., &c. &c. 
 Poor N. is destroyed body and mind by paralysis. Miss E., 
 I am told, is as beautiful as ever. I came to R s. country- 
 house, this day week, and escorted Madame hither on Thurs 
 day last. We return to-morrow. My best regards to all 
 the family. Poor Sally! I had flattered myself that she 
 would return to Virginia, and make one of our family! 
 
 but Farewell. 
 
 Yours, ever, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 175 
 
 LETTER CXXXVII. 
 
 Feb. 26, 1816. 
 Mr DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter of the 4th instant has relieved me from 
 a state of most cruel and anxious suspense. How could you 
 leave me for weeks (almost months) in such a situation? I 
 have worried the Tennessee delegation with inquiries, and 
 received only the most dismal accounts of the mortality in 
 Nashville, and the surrounding country. Your letter is dated 
 Santonhoe, if I read aright. Where is that place situated? 
 Where is Fayetteville? for I presume you do not mean Cross 
 Creek, (as it used to be called,) in North Carolina. I wish 
 you could get my letter, in safety, to Rutledge. 
 I refer you to Colonel M. for news of Beverley. 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 I am barely in time for the mail. 
 
 LETTER CXXXVIII. 
 
 Monday Morning, April 8, 1816. 
 
 I HAVE sent you some English papers. Read and take 
 care of them. Poor S. is, I fear, dying. Jupiter is knocked 
 up, nursing him. An important bill is now reading, (tariff,) 
 which I must speak upon. Adieu, dear Theodore. My own 
 health not good. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, 
 
176 LETTERS OF 
 
 Poor Sancho s hind leg is broken. I have a most beauti 
 ful Spanish slut 
 
 LETTER CXXXIX. 
 
 Georgetown, April 11, 181& 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 You may imagine how much I was gratified by the 
 receipt of your letter of the 25th March; which did not 
 reach me until yesterday, too late to reply to it by return of 
 mail. Last week I received one from Colonel M., of the 
 same date, in which he mentioned that you had not got back; 
 comparing the time with that set for your departure, I was, 
 in spite of my system, a good deal uneasy about you. In 
 deed, the times are awful and depressing. Yesterday we 
 buried poor S. I staid by his bed-side the night before he 
 died, (Monday.) Jupiter was worn down by nursing him, 
 and is still feeling the effects of it: he returned home on 
 Sunday morning, and has been sick ever since. My own 
 health is not much better, and my spirits worse. As soon 
 as the weather and roads will permit, I shall bend my course 
 homeward. The loss sustained upon my tobacco, will put an 
 end to some of my projects. I send you, by Mr. D., some 
 money. 
 
 Most affectionately, yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 Remember me to your mother. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 177 
 
 LETTER CXL. 
 
 Monday, April 15, 1816. 
 DEAR DOCTOR, 
 
 YOUR half sheet, of the llth, did not reach me until 
 to-day. If you remain in Richmond a week, you will stand 
 a chance to see me. How is it that you say nothing of any 
 body or any thing? not even of Randolph. To my surprise, 
 I received a letter from Beverley, dated the 10th, at Rich 
 mond! London would not have been more unexpected. 
 You do not mention him; and, of course, I ought to conclude 
 that you have not met. 
 
 Our house must be bare of many necessaries. Pray get 
 such as are most wanting. Besides groceries, towels and 
 sheets are requisite. Poor Jupiter is, at last, out of danger. 
 He nursed Mr. S. 
 
 Mr. P., of Philadelphia, is well, and entertaining his ex- 
 majesty and marshals of France, Spain, &c. R. R., jr., is 
 well, and doing well. Mr. F. K. has been ill with the pre 
 valent epidemic. Adieu! 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 We shall want some lime to plaster the house. I have got 
 bolts for the windows, and shutters, and ordered chimney- 
 pieces* 
 
 23 
 
178 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER CXLI. 
 
 Richmond, Aug. 10, 1816. 
 Mr DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I LEFT home on the Monday (July 29th) after your 
 departure: four dismal days I passed by myself, and one 
 night with Colonel M. On Friday evening we had a re 
 viving shower, and a sprinkle on Saturday; whereupon it 
 turned suddenly cold, and has continued so almost ever since. 
 I called at Peter R s.; and, on Tuesday morning, July 30th, 
 we had a large fire: also, the night before. On Tuesday I 
 reached Dr. R s; and, on the 1st instant, this place. I have 
 sold my tobacco for twenty dollars, payable the 1st of July 
 next. 
 
 Dr. and Mrs. B. had set out for Philadelphia the day be 
 fore my arrival. They will be at the Warm Springs about 
 the last of this month. I have been seeking a private op 
 portunity to send you a letter from your father, which I re 
 ceived on Sunday, July 28th. I shall give it, with this, into 
 the care of Mr. T. T. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. C., and Mr. and Mrs. W., and Messrs. M., 
 J., and T., inquire particularly after you. I go up, to-day, 
 with the two first, as far as H. H s., on my way homeward: 
 M. will accompany me. I met St. George at R s., on the 
 1st instant. He looks very Well. Richmond has been clear 
 of dust, heat, and insects, for ten days past: it has even ver 
 dure. 
 
 You may imagine how anxious I am to hear from you. 
 *%k May God bless you, my son. 
 Yours, ever, 
 ^ * JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 Remember me to Juba. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 179 
 
 LETTER CXLII. 
 
 Roanoke, Sept. 3, 1816. 
 My DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 THERE has been no rain here, except a slight shower 
 on the Friday (July 26th,) after your departure, since you 
 left us. The consequences you may well imagine. The to 
 bacco crop is shortened at least two-thirds, and a general ap 
 prehension of famine pervades the land. Six and seven and 
 a half v jjollars have been given, in advance, for new corn, from 
 the stack. 
 
 Mr. J. and Mr. B. spent a day with me; and the latter has 
 promised to give me another, to-morrow, on his return from 
 Halifax. The state of my health has been worse than usual, 
 of late. I have had a severe bilious attack on the bowels, for 
 the last three days. 
 
 Your letter of the 2d of August, post-marked the 9th, from 
 the Sulphur Springs, reached me on Sunday, the 25tlvof the 
 same month. I was truly comforted to learn that the waters, 
 even upon so short a trial, had proved beneficial to you. God 
 grant that you may find complete relief- from them. You say 
 nothing of Juba. 
 
 Col. M. inquires kindly after you; so have many others^ 
 Mr. W. M. W. His father I have not seen since we parted. 
 
 Hearing that Capt. B. sets out for the Sweet Springs to 
 morrow, I write this by candle-light, in our solitary cabin, 
 with the back of the only pen in the house. 
 
 God bless and preserve you, niy- son. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 Monday, August^, Thermometer 94 
 
 Wednesday, " 21, frost! 69 highest this day. 
 
 Monday, " 26, 81 
 
 Thursday, " 29, frost! 60 at 2 hours by sun. 
 
 Monday, September 2, 90 90 
 
 Tuesday, " 3, at 7 P. M. 85 
 
180 LETTERS OF 
 
 I wrote you by T. T., and sent two letters one from your 
 father. 
 
 LETTER CXLIII. 
 
 -Georgetown, December 28, 1816. 
 
 THE enclosed letter, from Mr. C., will probably remind 
 you of a conversation between us, the day before St. George 
 embarked for Philadelphia. I have now been here eighteen 
 days, and not a line have I received from Virginia, except 
 T s. and M s. letters. I say from Virginia, because I have 
 received two other letters; one from England, written by Mr. 
 Wilberforce, on the subject of colonizing the free blacks. 
 
 We have had delightful weather during the last fortnight. 
 It reminds me of affairs at home particularly the carriage 
 of the tobacco, for which it is especially favourable. 
 
 My health has been very indifferent since I came here; but 
 I -think I have derived some benefit from a nightly dose of 
 magnesia, a small tea spoonful. 
 
 Let me hear how you are. I am here, except when in the 
 house, almost as much alone as when at home. 
 
 Farewell, my dear Theodore. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 181 
 
 LETTER CXLIV. 
 
 Georgetown, Dec. 31, 1816. 
 
 I NEVER received a letter from you, my dear Theodore, 
 that gave me more pleasure than your last; it was the first, al 
 so, of the 23d. Your hymenial and sporting intelligence 
 were highly acceptable; the first, as you conjecture, altogether 
 a surprise upon me. Give to the bride and bridegroom my 
 cordial congratulations on the event: I know not how to offer 
 them to my worthy old neighbour to whom present me, in 
 the most friendly terms. Pray let me know whether he 
 will, by this occurrence, be left entirely solitary. I am sure 
 that if he had had the choosing of his son-in-law, he could 
 not have been more highly gratified in that respect; and such 
 is his affection for Lucy, that, I am sure, not a thought of 
 himself enters into his mind. Indeed, he is fortunate in see 
 ing her, before he leaves this world, committed to the pro 
 tection of a deserving man yet, I am persuaded that, if he 
 live alone, he will not live long. 
 
 You forget, that when I mentioned Traquair s letter, I told 
 you that the boxes were locked, and that the keys were 
 hanging in the north closet. All the boxes, but one, contain 
 books; the papers are in the other, in bundles, alphabeted. 
 The letter contains a design for a fire place, and is wanted. 
 
 As for the hypo, let me prescribe broken doses of Pigou & 
 Andrews preparation, of carbonated nitre and sulphur, with 
 q. s. of prepared lead. I hope you will not expose yourself 
 in the practice of your profession. 
 
 God bless you, my son. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 P. S. I have been interrupted by company. You say no 
 thing of Essex, &c., and little Molly. Are you aware that 
 you are becoming careless in your orthography: "puzzle," 
 with one z. Also, "ba#ed." I hope you will not find my 
 corrections like Wm. Jenkins reproof of Molly Jones. 
 
182 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER CXLV. 
 
 Babel, Jan. 14, 1817. 
 Tuesday. 
 
 No letter from you, my dear Theodore; at which I am a 
 good deal disappointed, and somewhat concerned. I wrote 
 yesterday, acknowledging yours of the 30th. Your exploits 
 & la chasse, have been made known to all the courts of 
 Europe, at least to their ministers, so far as the great and 
 small powers are represented here for the whole corps di 
 plomatique were present yesterday when I read the extract 
 of your letter to one of that body, at the hazard of being 
 considered as one carrying on a treasonable correspondence 
 with England. 
 
 What of clover seed? Of Spot and Roanoke? one or 
 both of which I shall want very soon. Of the dogs? And, 
 though last, not least, of old Essex & Co., and little Molly. 
 
 I have bought a fine pipe of Madeira. Did Quashia bring 
 up the quarter cask? Remember me most kindly to Colo 
 nel M. ; also to C., S., and their families. 
 
 Ever yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 Our friend Dr. R., of Amelia, has been here dying with 
 the gout. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH, 183 
 
 LETTER CXLVI. 
 
 Babel, Jan. 20, 1817. 
 Monday. 
 
 No letter from you to day, my dear Theodore. The date 
 of your last is December 30th. Pray try and contrive to 
 send your letters to Petersburgh or Richmond, or any place 
 on the main line, by private hand. 
 
 A Mr. Johnson, (not Jackson,) of Virginia, took occasion to 
 be very scurrilous towards me, on the alleged account of an 
 expression used by the last session, and repeated a few days 
 ago on the compensation law, as it is called. Mr. B. seemed 
 also disposed to hold offensive language on the same subject, 
 rising, after a most laughable and good-humoured discourse 
 of R., (C s. bull-calf,) and replying, as I had done, to what 
 was said the day before. I was informed that the affair was 
 concerted, and that I was to stand a fire along the whole 
 line. I determined, therefore, to tread it out; and will en 
 deavour to report for you my remarks, and send them by 
 to-morrow s mail. Mean while, I must draw a check for 
 C., whose receipt please to take, and tell him that the money 
 has been lying idle; but I wanted to see whether he aud P. 
 would not write about their own affairs, as they would not 
 about mine although earnestly requested thereto. Since 
 Friday, it has been bitter cold, and I am afraid some of my 
 poor people may suffer. No doubt there is ice in abun 
 dance. 
 
 Mr. Secretary D. is dead. 
 
 Remember me kinkly to Colonel M., and send me a copy 
 of your meteorological diary. 
 
 Entirely yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, 
 
 C. must endorse the check. 
 
184 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER CXLVII. 
 
 Georgetown, Monday Morning. 
 Jan. 27, 1817. 
 
 No letter from you, my dear Theodore, since that of De 
 cember 30th. If I do not find one when I get to the house, 
 I shall not know what to think. Indeed, that is my present 
 situation. I am truly uneasy. Sometimes I think you have 
 set out to Tennessee, to see some sick relation. Then I 
 fancy you in that situation, alone, without a friend; although 
 I should rather have Essex than any nurse or attendant I 
 ever saw. Then, again, I reflect on my want of success in 
 teaching you and Tudor (poor Tudor!) to write regularly to 
 me when you were boys, or to descant upon the topics that 
 were most interesting to me, and I try to be easy. 
 
 A letter from Harry T., dated Winchester, Jan. 23d. In 
 stead of a "fracture of a process of the scapula," his case 
 " proves to be a very unusual dislocation of the os humeri. ?r 
 "Two days ago, two very skilful gentlemen of the faculty 
 attempted its reduction: after a variety of efforts, during 
 three hours, aided by four strong men, they found it imprac 
 ticable. They resolved to repeat the experiment on Satur 
 day next, but, in the mean time, I have resolved upon an 
 other procedure, and shall set out to-morrow for Philadel 
 phia, and place myself under the direction of Physick." 
 (My earnest advice to him three weeks ago, when I first 
 saw him lying at the turnpike-gate, at Goshen; for although 
 1 did not know what was the matter, I would have ventured 
 my life that the individual "Rushian ?y attending him, al 
 though the boon companion of Mr. W., and of as great 
 fame in medicine as this last in law, knew nothing of the 
 case. He pronounced that there was neither fracture nor 
 luxation, and that H. T. would be well in a short time. 
 When asked here, I told every body his, and then my opi 
 nion j and, in reply to the enclosed letter, told my brother 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 185 
 
 that I had not the least expectation of his being able to take 
 his seat in Congress this winter. He adds: ) "In his skill 
 I may expect success, if it can be commanded. Evelina will 
 accompany me, as I find her aid essential to me." 
 Adieu! 
 
 Yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 I have given F. K. one of my mares; and, if she be not 
 in prime order, shall select Everlasting for him: if not, the 
 little gray out of Telegraph, unless you can suggest a better. 
 I make no reservation, except of Lady B., her filly, and 
 Duchess s filly. If my good colts and fillies are starved 
 this winter, I shall be much displeased, unless all the rest 
 are knocked on the head. If, after that process, there is 
 not enough provision, I must be content. 
 
 LETTER CXLVIII. 
 
 Georgetown, Feb. 4, 1817, 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I WROTE you a long letter yesterday by post I wish 
 I could recall it; for the servant of my colleague, T. N., is 
 just about setting out for his master s house, and will pass by 
 Wyllie s, or Goode s. I took the precaution, however, to 
 enclose my letter, yesterday, to R. G., of Manchester: that 
 will guard against its lying in the Richmond office; one of the 
 great causes, indeed the chief one, of delay. I cannot help 
 thinking, from my having received your last, (the 26th, post 
 marked the 27th, reaching me on the 1st instant, Saturday,) 
 that there is a change in the mail establishment. This may 
 have caused you to receive no letter from me on the day that 
 
 24 
 
186 LETTERS OF 
 
 you wrote last, (Sunday, the 26th of January.) So much 
 for the post Mr. N. did not mention to me his servant s 
 going, until last evening, and I was then too much exhaust 
 ed, by severe parliamentary duty, and a bad sore throat and 
 cold, to write. The weather has been intensely severe since 
 the night of Friday, the 17th of January, with the exception 
 of one or two days. Saturday, the 25th, and Sunday, (the 
 coldest day this year I believe,) the 26th, were exceedingly 
 cold, indeed; and since that period we have not had a day 
 that was otherwise. Saturday and Sunday last (1st and 2d 
 February) were not unpleasant; and, in the evening of Sun 
 day, I thought we were going to have a thaw, but it snowed 
 costively at night, with a whistling north-wester; and it has 
 been freezing hard ever since. I dread the thaw. The Po 
 tomac is frozen over, I presume, to its very mouth. It was 
 tight at Nominy, (not very far above,) some days since. It 
 is there quite salt, (oysters being obtained,) and about twelve 
 miles over. The Chesapeake, I have no doubt, is frozen 
 across at Annapolis. Loaded wagons cross the Potomac. 
 Pray send me your journal: I mean a copy. 
 
 Now, what do you think? Henry T s. shoulder, that was 
 at first neither dislocated nor broken, but then dislocated by 
 the same doctor, (neither physician nor surgeon;) next, by 
 " two able Winchester physicians," pronounced not to be 
 dislocated, but fractured in the corocoid process of the sca 
 pula, then, by the same "two able" leeches, (reconsider 
 ing their opinion, like Congress, in order to make confusion 
 worse confounded,) declared to be a dislocation, unusual, of 
 the os humeri; whereupon the said "doctors," and "four 
 strong men," put the said patient to the rack, without suc 
 ceeding in tearing asunder all the muscles and ligaments. 
 This injury has been decided, by P., W., and D., (we have 
 now got to the court of appeals, and can go no farther, 
 right or wrong, the case is decided,) to be a fracture of the 
 os humeri ! and my poor brother is likely to he able to attend 
 Congress before the end of the session. This beats Moliere, 
 or Le Sage, hollow. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 187 
 
 Now, my dear Theodore, for I think I shall never call 
 you " Doctor" again, on the receipt of this, let the wagons 
 set out, if they have a load, for Manchester; if not, some 
 trusty hand, (not Paul, but little Quashia, or Simon,) must 
 carry down Spot and Roanoke, my new saddle and bridle, 
 snaffle, ditto, my boots, that M. brought me, and my white 
 leather breeches. My portmanteau, saddle, and the pillion, 
 straps, &c., to be left in the care of R. J., or M. The new 
 saddle, covered with a blanket, the irons and stirrup leathers, 
 papered that is, if the wagons cannot come; then let it be 
 sent in a box. It is material that the wagons should make 
 their trip to Richmond before the frost breaks up; the roads 
 are now good. I shall write this day for plaster of Paris 
 and tar: the clover seed has been ready these two months. 
 
 You have not said a word about the dogs; nor in your last, 
 of the household. 
 
 My best regards to Colonel M. 
 
 Your affectionate and grateful friend and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 A letter from Rutledge, of the 4th. He had not then re 
 ceived one that I wrote before I left home, and put into the 
 post-office the day of my departure or, rather, the next 
 morning, Monday, the 17th of December. I rather incline 
 to believe you did not send it to the post-office for me. 
 flpropos, there is in my room a letter addressed to Oliver 
 H., Esq.: pray enclose it me. 
 
 Send by Mr. N s. servant F. K s. mare. Choose for him, 
 and send her, about the 20th, by Simon, to Mr. J. N. I 
 except only the English mare, and Cornelia. You may send 
 Everlasting, or the gray daughter of Telegraph. See my 
 former letter on this subject, as to exceptions. 
 
LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER CXLIX. 
 
 Georgetown, Feb. 8, 1817. 
 
 Saturday Night. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter of the 2d was put into my hands this 
 morning, just as I was about to make my last dying speech. 
 To-morrow you will, probably, receive my letter by Tues 
 day s mail; and, more probably, that by Mr. N 7 s. servant. 
 I have no farther request to make, than that my boots may 
 be sent; for want of which, through Juba s negligence, I am 
 suffering. 
 
 Your memory is very good about the weather. It tallies 
 with my memoranda which are as follows: 
 
 J817 Jan., Friday 10, warm; hail at night, turns cold. 
 
 Saturday 11, very cold. Sunday 12, coldest 
 
 day, to this date. 
 Thursday 16, mild. Friday 17, warm; snow 
 
 at night, turns cold. 
 % Saturday 18 Sunday 19, colder than any days 
 
 preceding. 
 Thursday 23, snow. Friday 24, three changes 
 
 to-day; cold. 
 Saturday 25, very cold. Sunday 26, ditto; 
 
 snow, colder than ever. 
 
 Monday 27 30, bitter cold. Friday 31, cold. 
 Feb., Saturday 1, mild. Sunday 2, milder; snow at 
 
 night, very cold. 
 Monday 3 5, very cold ; last the coldest day 
 
 yet. 
 Friday 7, mild in comparison. Saturday 8, 
 
 milder. 
 
 J) r . B h passed through this city, on Tuesday and 
 
 Wednesday last, to Richmond. I barely saw him. The clo 
 ver seed is at T. and M s. You have never mentioned whe- 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 189 
 
 ther the chestnut gelding colt is yet lame or not. I must 
 seal, or lose to-morrow s mail. 
 Good night. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 Dr. B. will get the plaster of Paris. 
 I regret your solitude, but it will soon be broken in upon 
 by your old querulous friend, Matt B. 
 
 LETTER CL. 
 
 Georgetown, Tuesday, Feb. 11, 1817. 
 
 I SCRIBBLED a few lines to you, my dear Theodore, on 
 Saturday evening last, at which time I was labouring under 
 the effects of fresh cold, taken in going to and coming from 
 the House, where I delivered my valedictory. It was nearer 
 being, than I then imagined, a valedictory to this world. 
 That night, and the next day and night, I hung suspended 
 between two worlds, and had a much nearer glimpse than I 
 have ever yet taken of the other. In my agony, I thought 
 repeatedly of your situation when I bled you. I am barely 
 able to write, to tell you, that if you have not sent off Spot 
 and Roanoke, to detain them, unless you will use them your 
 self, as I am doubtful whether I shall be able to travel by the 
 end of the session. 
 
 No farther news from H. T. Adieu! 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 How is the chestnut gelding, out of the blaze-faced S. C. 
 mare? Take care of the newspapers; particularly the E. P, 
 .and Herald, and file them. 
 
190 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER CLI. 
 
 Georgetown, Feb. 16, 1817. 
 Sunday Morning. 
 
 YOUR letter, written this day week, reached me yesterday. 
 Indeed, all three of your last have arrived regularly on the 
 Saturday morning after their date a reformation in the post- 
 office that was more desired than expected. 
 
 I almost envy you Orlando. I would, if it were not John 
 ny Hoole s translation; although, at the age of ten, I devoured 
 that more eagerly than gingerbread. Oh ! if Milton had trans 
 lated it, he might tell of 
 
 " All who, since, baptized or infidej 
 Jousted in Aspromont or Montalban, 
 Damasco, or Morocco, or Torbisond; 
 Or whom Bisserta sent from Afric shore, 
 When Charlemagne, with all his peerage, fell 
 By Fontarabia." 
 
 Let me advise you to 
 
 "Call up him, who left half told, 
 The story of Cambuscan bold." 
 
 I think you have never read Chaucer. Indeed, I have 
 sometimes blamed myself for not cultivating your imagina 
 tion, when you were young. It is a dangerous quality, howe 
 ver, for the possessor. But if from my life were to be taken 
 the pleasure derived from that faculty, very little would re 
 main. Shakspeare, and Milton, and Chaucer, and Spenser, 
 and Plutarch, and the Arabian Night s Entertainments, and 
 Don Quixotte, and Gil Bias, and Tom Jones, and Gulliver, 
 and Robinson Crusoe, "and the tale of Troy divine," have 
 made up more than half of my wordly enjoyment. To these 
 ought to be added Ovid s Metamorphoses, Ariosto, Dryden, 
 Beaumont and Fletcher, Southern, Otway, Congreve, Pope s 
 Rape and Eloisa, Addison, Young, Thomson, Gay, Gold 
 smith, Gray, Collins, Sheridan, Cowper, Byron, JEtSOp, La 
 Fontaine, Voltaire, (Charles XII., Mahomed, and Zaire j)Rous- 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 191 
 
 seau, (Julie,) Schiller, Madame de Stael but, above all, 
 Burke*. 
 
 One of the first books I ever read was Voltaire s Charles 
 XII. ; about the same time, 1780-1, 1 read the Spectator; and 
 used to steal away to the closet containing them. The let 
 ters from his correspondents were my favourites. I read 
 Humphry Clinker, also; that is, Win s and Tabby s letters, 
 with great delight, for I could spell, at that age, pretty cor 
 rectly. Reynard, the fox, came next, I think; then Tales of 
 the Genii and Arabian Nights. This last, and Shakspeare, 
 were my idols. I had read them with Don Quixotte, Gil 
 Bias, Quintus Curtius, Plutarch, Pope s Homer, Robinson 
 Crusoe, Gulliver, Tom Jones, Orlando Furioso, and Thom 
 son s Seasons, before I was eleven years of age; also, Gold 
 smith s Roman History, 2 vols. 8 vo., and an old history of 
 Braddock s war. When not eight years old, I used to sing 
 an old ballad of his defeat: 
 
 " On the 6th day of July, in the year sixty-five, 
 At two in the evening, did our forces arrive ; 
 When the French and the Indians in ambush did lay 
 And there was great slaughter of our forces that day." 
 
 At about eleven, 1784-5, Percy s Reliques, and Chaucer, 
 became great favourites, and Chatterton, and Rowley. I then 
 read Young and Gay, &c.: Goldsmith I never saw until 1787. 
 
 Pray get my Germany from Mr. Hoge, or Mr. Lacy: 
 they have it. 
 
 I have scribbled at a great rate. Do thou likewise. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 MR. T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
 I have been reading Lear these two days, and incline to 
 prefer it to all Shakspeare s plays. In that and Timon only, 
 it has been said, the bard was in earnest. Read both the 
 first especially. 
 
192 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER CLII. 
 
 Georgetown, Feb. 18, 181T. 
 
 I HAD hardly finished my last letter (Sunday, the 16th) to 
 you, when I was seized by spasms that threatened soon to 
 terminate all my earthly cares; although the two nights since 
 have been passed almost entirely without sleep, I am much 
 better. Not expecting to be able to write, I asked Charles 
 G., yesterday, to write to you for me. Be not alarmed at his 
 letter; I am in no immediate danger that excepted in which 
 all things mortal stand. 
 
 I wish you had said a word about the weather in your last 
 costive epistle; indeed, that you always would give me the 
 journal of the preceding week. Yesterday afternoon, we had 
 a change from intense frost to thaw. The ice on the Potomac 
 is three feet thick, and extends to its mouth. Chesapeake is 
 tight, as low as Annapolis. At Havre, the ice is yet thicker. 
 North River is tight, opposite to New York, (its very mouth,) 
 where it is salt as the ocean brine, and the tides very rapid; 
 at least, as much so as the current of our rivers in a flood. 
 East River, still more rapid, is also frozen. It is nothing but 
 the arm of the sea that divides Long Island from New York 
 Island, and the main. I consider Friday and Saturday the 
 two coldest days I ever felt. Thermometer at zero, and, in 
 some places hereabouts, 7 below; at Boston, by the last ac 
 counts, 28 below zero. All the pheasants, partridges, &c., 
 frozen to death. 
 
 I am in suspense about the horses arrival in Richmond. 
 Poor Juba lies very ill, and I know not what to do. Adieu I 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 To T. B. DUDLEY, M. D. 
 
 Pray plant some sweet-brier and swamp roses. 
 1817 Feb., Sunday 9, snows a little. Very sick; bled. 
 
 Monday 10, changeable; turns very cold after 
 noon. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 193 
 
 1817 Feb., Tuesday 11, very cold. Had a grinder ex 
 tracted. 
 
 Wednesday 12, bitter cold; wind high at north 
 west. 
 
 Thursday 13, colder still; wind very high at 
 north-west. 
 
 "Friday 14, coldest day ever felt; night intolera- 
 
 Coldest 48 
 hours ever- 
 felt. 
 
 ble; no fire, and no number of blankets will 
 keep me warm. 
 Saturday 15, as cold as yesterday; cloudy; 
 
 threatens snow. 
 Sunday 16, very cold; cloudy; clear; cloudy; 
 
 sleet, at night. 
 Monday 17, sleet; very cold; sunshine; cloudy; 
 
 thaw. 
 Tuesday 18, it has hardly frozen during the last 
 
 night; fog. 
 
 T. M. N. has been very polite, and even kind to me. His 
 deportment here is very unexceptionable. 
 
 No farther news from H. T. P. says he has been so 
 butchered by the "doctors," that he can never have the use 
 of his arm. 
 
 I am taking the super carbonated natron a fine prepa 
 ration. 
 
 Ministry John Q. Adams, Secretary of State. 
 
 Shelby, of Kentucky, Secretary of War. 
 Crawford will remain in if he pleases. 
 Crowninshield remains. 
 G. W. Campbell goes to London, 
 
 25 
 
194 LETTERS O? 
 
 LETTER CLIII. 
 
 Georgetown,. Feb. 23, 1817. 
 
 Sunday. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter of the 17th reached me yesterday morn 
 ing, after the worst night that I have had since my indisposi 
 tion commenced. It was, I believe, a case of croup, com 
 bined with the affection of the liver and the lungs. Nor was 
 it unlike tetanus, since the muscles of the neck and back were 
 rigid, and the jaw locked. I never expected, when the 
 clock struck two, to hear the bell again; fortunately, as I found 
 myself going, I despatched a servant (about one) to. the apothe 
 cary for an ounce of laudanum. Some of this poured down 
 my throat, through my teeth, restored me to something like 
 life. I was quite delirious, but had method in my madness; 
 for they tell me I ordered Juba to load my gun, and to shoot 
 the first "doctor" that should enter the room; adding, they 
 are only mustard seed, and will serve just to sting him. Last 
 night, I was again very sick; but the anodyne relieved me. 
 I am now persuaded that I might have saved myself a great 
 deal of suffering by the moderate use of opium. This day 
 week, when racked with cramp and spasms, my " doctors" 
 (I had two) prescribed (or, rather, administered) half a glass 
 of Madeira. Half a drop of rain water would have been as 
 efficient. On Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, I at 
 tended the House; brought out the first day by the explosion 
 of the motion to repeal the internal taxes ; and the following 
 days, by some other circumstances that I will not now relate. 
 Knocked up completely by the exertion. Instead of recalling 
 my physicians, I took my own case boldly in hand ; took 1^ 
 grains of calomel on Thursday night, and yesterday, using 
 mercurial friction. The liver is again performing its func 
 tions,, and I am, this evening, decidedly better than I have 
 been since the first attack, which I may date from my fall at 
 Mr. T s., on Tuesday, the 21st of January. From that pe- 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 195 
 
 riod, the operations of the liver have been irregular and dis 
 turbed. I conceive the lungs to be affected by sympathy, 
 with the other viscus. I have taken from five 5 to 10 grains 
 of the hyper carbonated natron, every day, most generally 5 
 grains, in a table spoonful of new milk, sometimes repeating 
 the dose at night: my drink has been slippery elm tea, and 
 lemonade. Appetite for acids very strong. Severe pains in 
 the fasciae of the legs and the tendons, just above the outer 
 ankle bone; also, knees, &c. &c. 1 have taken from the first, 
 a pill of 1 J grains of calomel, about two, sometimes three times 
 a week; and several doses of Cheltenham salts. I have used 
 the volatile liniment for my throat and limbs ; also, gargles of 
 sage tea, borax, &c. 
 
 Your letter is so ambiguously worded, that I know not 
 whether you have received mine, countermanding the horses. 
 I am a plain matter-of-fact man, and had rather read as many 
 repetitions as are to be found in a bill in chancery, than be at 
 a loss for the meaning. I keep no letter book, nor even 
 memorandum. Several of my letters, it seems, have not come 
 to hand ; but I cannot recollect their contents, by their dates: 
 therefore, know not which have miscarried. 
 
 Mrs. John M., Mrs. B., and Mrs. F. K., have been very 
 kind, in sending me jellies, lemons, &c. &c. Thomas M. N. 
 has been extremely attentive and obliging. Mr. K., of New 
 York, Mr. Chief Justice, Mr. H., of Maryland, Mr. M., of 
 South Carolina, Mr. B., of Georgetown, (I need not nameF. 
 K.) M. (no longer Abbe) C. de S., and D., have been very 
 kind in their attentions. Mr. M. sent me some old, choice 
 Madeira, and his man cook to dress my rice; (a mystery not 
 understood any where on this side of Cape Fear river;) send 
 ing, also, the rice, to be dressed; and Mr. Chief Justice came 
 to assist me in drawing up my will which I had strangely 
 and criminally neglected, for some time past, and of which 
 neglect I was more strangely admonished in a dream. 
 
 At any other time, I should have regretted, very much, 
 the ruin of my expected saddle-horse; at present, there is not 
 much prospect of my wanting him. Decatur has just beea 
 
196 LETTERS OF 
 
 talking to me of you and Roanoke ; both rider and horse seem 
 to have made a strong impression on him. P., also, spoke 
 of you. Had he known we lived together, he would have 
 accompanied you to Roanoke. 
 
 If this dose of egotism do not sicken you, aloes will not 
 Farewell, and good night. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 THEODORICK BLAND DUDLEY, M. D. 
 Past ten, Sunday, Feb. 23. 
 
 Juba has been very ill. 
 
 It is now hailing very fast Until this morning, it has been 
 warm since Monday. Thermometer here has been 6 below 
 zero of Fahrenheit; at Albany and Boston 14 and 18. Bos 
 ton harbour frozen up nine miles below the town, where it is 
 nothing but the great Atlantic wagons and sleighs passing 
 over to Castle Island and Fort Independence. 
 
 B. writes that the clover seed at T. and M s. ought to be 
 in the ground. 
 
 A letter from Dr. C., introducing Mr. James C. B., his 
 brother-in-law. (R. W. is here.) Also, a letter from good 
 Dr. L. and H. T. He (H. T.) was in Philadelphia, on the 
 16th, and intended to be here before the coronation. Arm 
 bound to his body. He has not been made acquainted with 
 the fate of his arm, as his spirits were very low. He went 
 with Ryland to see St. George, and was surprised to find his 
 madness of so bad a type. He tears every thing to tatters 
 that he lays his hands on. He recognised his uncle, at once; 
 but the moody expression of his countenance indicated, in 
 Harry s opinion, incurable insanity. 
 
 The doctors are killing poor G., "secundum artem." 
 
 Sunday Morning, Feb. 24. 
 
 The last night "was winter in his roughest mood;" from 
 a disagreeably warm day and evening, it turned to hail, sleet, 
 and snow, about 9 o clock, P. M. It is now (10 o clock, P. 
 M.) snowing very fast The wind, which has blown a storm 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 197 
 
 in gusts and flaws all night, continues very high: it has got 
 round from north-east to north-west. 
 
 LETTER CLIV. 
 
 Georgetown, Tuesday, March 4, 1817. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I WROTE you a few lines on Sunday, directed to the 
 care of R. G., Manchester, with an earnest request to the 
 post-office not to send it to Winchester. The post-master, 
 (here,) a decent and attentive man, assured me that the mis 
 take did not originate with him; and I believe him. A tool 
 of the under spur leathers here, it seems, is established at 
 Alexandria, where the road " forks " to Winchester. 
 
 Since my last, I am somewhat, but not much, better. I 
 purpose taking up the line of march for Richmond, to-mor 
 row; where, perhaps, I shall arrive on the day that you 
 ought to receive this letter; and I should like to meet Spot, 
 to take me through the sloughs, and over the ruts and gul 
 lies, between that place and Obslo. I shall go via Farmville 
 and Prince Edward Court. 
 
 The failure of wells, springs, &c., are not peculiar to our 
 country. It is general to the north; where Mr. K. tells me, 
 wells, &c., have failed totally, that have yielded a copious 
 supply of water, as far back as the memory of man can 
 reach. 
 
 I write these few lines in case of accident to my last. I 
 wish you could join me on the road. I shall stay but one 
 day in Richmond. I hope you ordered Quashia to apply 
 for the clover seed and plaster of Paris. Do not forget the 
 
LETTERS OF 
 
 shrubs. Adieu! I look forward with joy to meeting you 
 again. 
 
 Affectionately, yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 T. B. DUDLEY, M. D, 
 
 LETTER CLV. 
 
 Richmond, Wednesday, March 12, 1817. 
 
 I HAVE no expectation, my dear Theodore, that this will 
 find you at home but, as my last letter from Georgetown 
 may have miscarried, although yours to me have arrived 
 very regularly for the last four or five weeks, I write, in 
 case of accidents, to apprize you that I have got thus far on 
 my way home, and that, (God willing,) I shall be at Prince 
 Edward Court, on Monday next. I had prepared to set out 
 to-day, but the weather deters me. It is now snowing. 
 
 No mitigation of my cruel symptoms took place until the 
 third day of my journey, when I threw physic to the dogs; 
 and, instead of opium, tincture of columbo, hypercarbonate 
 of soda, &c. &c., I drank, in defiance of my physician s 
 prescription, copiously of cold spring water, and ate plenti 
 fully of ice. Since that change of regimen, my strength has 
 increased astonishingly; and I have even gained some flesh, 
 or rather skin. The first day, Wednesday the 5th, I could 
 travel no farther than Alexandria. At Dumfries, where I 
 lay, but slept not on Thursday night, I had nearly given up 
 the ghost. At a spring, five miles on this side, after crossing 
 happawamsick, I took, upon an empty and sick stomach, 
 upwards of a pint of living water, unmixed with Madeira, 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 199 
 
 which I have not tasted since. It was the first thing that I 
 had taken into my stomach since the first of February that 
 did not produce nausea. It acted like a charm, and enabled 
 me to get on to B s. that night, where I procured ice. I 
 also devoured with impunity a large pippin, (forbidden fruit 
 tome.) Next day I got to the Oaks, forty-two miles. Here 
 I was more unwell than the night before. On Sunday morn 
 ing, I reached my friends, Messrs. A. & Co., to breakfast 
 at half past eight. 
 
 Old Dr. F., whom I saw in Frederickburg, while my 
 horses were baiting, begged to be most particularly remem 
 bered to you. The old man spoke of you with a warmth 
 of approbation that highly gratified me. Mr. W. made the 
 most affectionate inquiries after you. He knew, he said, my 
 complaint and constitution, having been a martyr to it (dys 
 pepsia) himself, but now cured. He begged me to consider 
 water as poison to me. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. C., Dr. and Mrs* B., and Mrs. B., with 
 whom I spent the morning, yesterday, made friendly in 
 quiries about you. So did Mrs. W., who is, "as ladies like 
 to be, who love their lords;" and will present him in a very 
 short time with a chopping boy or girl, perhaps both. 
 
 Adieu, my dear Theodore. 
 
 Your affectionate friend and kinsman, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 LETTER CLVI. 
 
 Richmond, Thursday, March 13, 1817. 
 
 You will not be surprised at this date, my dear Theodore^ 
 when you call to mind what a day yesterday was; and thi^ 
 too, is rainy and gloomy. I was packed for my journey. 
 
200 LETTERS OF 
 
 and intended to have breakfasted this morning at Clay Hill, 
 or Obslo; but the weather obliges me to keep in port. 
 
 I believe that I forgot to tell you that the famous frigate, 
 Paragon, (a thirty-two,) struck her colours, on Tuesday eve 
 ning, to the General S. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Do not let Quashia forget to call at T. and M s., and to 
 bring up the box containing my saddle, &c., which I ordered 
 him to carry back last year; but he neglected it: the conse 
 quence is, the bits and Stirrup irons are terribly rusted. 
 
 The boots were so carelessly packed, (the top of one be 
 ing only half covered with paper,) that the bees-wax and 
 tallow, with which they were dressed, has ruined them. The 
 breeches were but half wrapped up in the towel, but they 
 have sustained little damage. 
 
 I mean to plaster the whole of the pasture field of corn, 
 and all my tobacco and clover. 
 
 There is little chance that this letter will reach you; but 
 the trouble of writing is not great rather a pleasure, to 
 those we love. I dined yesterday with M., who lives but a 
 square off. R. K. J. was there, and my host, Mr. C. He 
 did very well for him. Kitty H. is married to Archy H. y 
 who has bought Curies for $50,000. I hope to shoot snipes 
 with you very soon, if you have any Pigou & Andrews, 
 and shot. Adieu. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 Henry C. inquires particularly after you. His winter in 
 Richmond has visibly improved him, without injuring the 
 frankness of his manners. He returns to Charlotte in April 
 or May. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 201 
 
 LETTER CLVII. 
 
 Saturday, April, 12, 1817. 
 
 I HOPE, my dear Theodore, that you will not, on my ac 
 count, encounter the fatigue of a ride to Prince Edward 
 Court. At the moment when you mentioned your intention 
 of meeting me there, your malady did not occur to me. I 
 can, without material inconvenience, return home about the 
 last of next week, or the beginning of the succeeding one; 
 and we can go together to Dr. R s., if you are not too much 
 indisposed to take the journey : he expects us both, I know. 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 T. BLAND DUDLEY, M. D. 
 
 LETTER CLVIIT. 
 
 Bank of Virginia, April 29, 1818. 
 
 Wednesday. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 AFTER old Quashia was gone, it occurred to me that 
 there might be some articles in the first memorandum that 
 were omitted in the second. On comparing them, I find 
 two of this description: the camphorated tincture of opium, 
 and compound tincture of rhubarb; both of which I have 
 ordered, and will bring with me: also, the tincture of aloes, 
 which, although contained in both lists, the apothecary could 
 not procure. As I frequently heard you express a want of 
 this medicine in your own case, I have spurred up the lean 
 
 26 
 
202 LETTERS OF 
 
 vender of drugs, and the sorry jade has at last answered my 
 purpose. This, also, I will bring with me. 
 
 Yesterday I dined with M. His sister is an intelligent, 
 frank, unaffected, Scotch lassie, with as much of the accent 
 as any admirer of " The Antiquary," &c., could desire. I 
 have passed one evening at Mr. B s., and a charming one it 
 was: to-day I dine there. 
 
 After I had closed my letter, by Quashia, I sent sundry 
 other articles; among them, Mr. C s. picture two packages 
 for Randolph a kip skin the handle of my old castors, 
 and some other matters, which my bills will show. 
 
 1 have received your picture-frame from Dr. G., with a 
 nice glass, which I hope will reach home unbroken. I have, 
 too, got another picture of Frank, and a better likeness than 
 the firsj, but yet not so good as G s. If I do not hear from 
 you by to-morrow s (rather to-night s) mail, I shall be disap 
 pointed. 
 
 Ever, yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 The kindest inquiries are made after you by Mrs. B., Mrs. 
 C., (who is now gone to Europe,) and Mrs. B. Place aux 
 Dames. R. K. J., Dr. B., Mr. B., Mr. M., Mr. T., cum 
 multis aliis, have asked after you, and wished to see you. 
 
 Thursday, April 30, 1818. 
 
 I left my letter open, expecting yours of the 27th, which 
 I received this morning, in due course of mail; the first in 
 stance of the kind that I remember. Surely there must be 
 some catenation between this extraordinary event and the 
 late unpropitious search. Frost this morning, by which a 
 man might be tracked through the street. If it can be done, 
 as I suppose it may, without injury to the crop, I wish one 
 wagon from the middle quarter and ferrry, to go down with 
 tobacco. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 203 
 
 LETTER CLIX.* 
 
 August, 1818. 
 
 I CONSIDER myself under obligations to you that I can ne 
 ver repay. I have considered you as a blessing sent to me 
 by Providence, in my old age, to repay the desertion of my 
 other friends and nearer connexions. It is in your power 
 (if you please) to repay me all the debt of gratitude that you 
 insist upon being due to me; although I consider myself, in 
 a pecuniary point of view, largely a gainer hy our connexion. 
 But, if you are unwilling to do so, I must be content to give 
 up my last stay upon earth; for I shall, in that case, send the 
 
 * This letter was written during 1 a lucid interval of alienation of mind; 
 which, for the first time, amounted to positive delirium. Fits of caprice 
 and petulance, following days of the deepest gloom, had, for years previous 
 ly, overshadowed his mind, evincing the existence of some corroding care, 
 for which he neither sought, nor would receive, any sympathy. 
 
 For many weeks, his conduct towards myself, who was the only inmate 
 of his household, had been marked by contumelious indignities, which it re 
 quired almost heroic patience to endure ; even when aided by a warm and 
 affectionate devotion, and an anxious wish to alleviate the agonies of such a 
 mind in ruins. All hope of attaining this end, finally failed; and, when he 
 found that I would no longer remain with him, the above letter was written: 
 it is almost needless to say, with what effect I remained with him two years 
 longer. 
 
 The truth and beauty of the eastern allegory, of the man endowed with 
 two souls, was never more forcibly exemplified than in his case. In his dark 
 days, when the evil genius predominated, the austere vindictiveness of his 
 feelings towards those that a distempered fancy depicted as enemies, or as 
 delinquent in truth or honour, was horribly severe and remorseless. 
 
 Under such circumstances of mental alienation, I sincerely believe, (if it 
 may not appear irreverent,) that had our blessed Saviour, accompanied by 
 his Holy Mother, condescended to become again incarnate, revisited the 
 earth, and been domiciliated with him one week, he would have imagined 
 the former a rogue, and the latter no bettter than she should be. 
 
 On the contrary, when the benevolent genius had the ascendant, no one 
 ever knew better how to feel and express the tenderest kindness, or to 
 evince, in countenance and manner, gentler benevolence of heart. 
 
204 LETTERS OF 
 
 boys to their parents. Without you I cannot live here at all, 
 and will not. What it is that has occasioned the change in 
 your manner towards me, I am unable to discover. I have 
 ascribed it to the disease * by which you are afflicted, and 
 which affects the mind and temper, as well as the animal fa 
 culties. In your principles I have as unbounded confidence 
 as I have in those of any man on earth. Your disinterest 
 edness, integrity, and truth, would extort my esteem and re 
 spect, even if I were disposed to withhold them. I love 
 you as my own son; would to God you were, i see, I think, 
 into your heart: mine is open before you, if you will look 
 into it. Nothing could ever eradicate this affection, which 
 surpasses that of any other person (as I believe) on earth. 
 Your parents have other children: I have only you. But I 
 see you wearing out your time, and wasting away, in this de 
 sert, where you have no society such as your time of life, ha 
 bits, and taste require. I have looked at you often, engaged 
 in contributing to my advantage and comfort, with tears in 
 my eyes, and thought I was selfish and cruel in sacrificing 
 you to my interest. I am going from home: will you take 
 care of my affairs until I return? I ask it as a favour. It 
 is possible that we may not meet again; but, if I get more 
 seriously sick at the springs than I am now, I will send for 
 you, unless you will go with me to the White Sulphur 
 Springs. Wherever I am, my heart will love you as long as 
 it beats. From your boyhood I have not been lavish of re 
 proof upon you. Recollect my past life. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 * Possibly, hypochondriasis. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 205 
 
 LETTER CLX. 
 
 Washington, Dec. 17, 1819. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 ON my return from Baltimore, the day before yester 
 day, I was greeted by your letter of the 5th. Its subject is 
 too interesting to be treated as it deserves; or, indeed, at all 
 in the hurry of Johnny s departure. You will agree in the 
 necessity of this step, when I tell you that I reached George 
 town, in the boat, on Tuesday night the boys the evening 
 afterwards, with the servants. On Friday morning, the boys 
 and myself went to Baltimore in the stage; whence I re 
 turned, on Thursday, to dinner. 
 
 To hear of your happiness gives me as great pleasure as 
 at this time I am capable of enjoying. Remember me, 
 kindly, to our neighbours; particularly to Colonel M. and 
 Mr. W. 
 
 I shall write, fully, by next post; which will reach you 
 soon after Johnny s arrival, if not before. 
 Yours, ever, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 LETTER CLX I. 
 
 Washington, Dec. 19, 1819. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 AT length 1 have obtained a respite from the cloud 
 of petitioners, applicants, pamphleteers, and projectors that 
 beset one, at the commencement, especially, of a session of 
 Congress; and sit down to converse with you on the subject 
 
206 LETTERS OF 
 
 of your last and only letter. So far from " writing with 
 the eloquence of Rousseau," I fear that my letter will wear 
 an air of constraint the effect of my anxiety to avoid making 
 a false impression on your mind, and of my own impove 
 rished and blighted faculties of heart and understanding. 
 
 I have never supposed you blind to the defects of my 
 character; neither have I been entirely insensible to those of 
 your own. If I could lay bare the moral anatomy of my 
 heart, I would not shrink from your inspection of all its 
 workings towards yourself, from the moment I first beheld 
 you, up to the present hour. During the more intimate con 
 nexion which has subsisted between us some twenty years 
 past, I never did " distrust your affection for me, 5 until the 
 summer before last. The surprise and anguish which then 
 overwhelmed me, you witnessed. I would not recall such 
 recollections, (it is the office of friendship to bury them in 
 oblivion,) but to put you in possession of the clew to my 
 feelings and conduct. I viewed you as one ready and will 
 ing, from the impulse of your own pride, to repay what you 
 considered a debt of gratitude, whilst you held the creditor 
 in aversion and contempt, that you could not at all times re 
 strain yourself from expressing by signs, and even by words. 
 
 On our meeting between this place and Baltimore, in 1811, 
 I would have given half what I possessed to have obtained 
 your confidence. From that time, I saw that there was 
 " something wrong" but to interrogate you, would have 
 been to take an ungenerous and unmanly advantage of our 
 relative position, and I sought your confidence in no other 
 way but by giving you mine, without reserve. I little ima 
 gined, at that time, that the letters which you afterwards put 
 into my hands, and which I have since perused with entire 
 approbation of their contents, regretting that I am now in 
 capable of taking such just views, (they were prompted by 
 a tenderness almost parental,) had any agency in producing 
 the reserve, which I saw and deplored, and vainly attempted 
 to remove. 
 
 Enough of this. It is the office of friendship to accom- 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH, 207 
 
 modate itself to mutual and incurable infirmities. To hear 
 of your happiness, next to seeing it, will give me as much 
 pleasure as I am now capable of feeling. My apathy is not 
 natural, but superinduced. There was a volcano under my 
 ice, but it is burnt out, and "a face of desolation has come 
 on, not to be rectified in ages," could my life be prolonged 
 to patriarchal longevity. The necessity of "loving, and 
 being beloved, 3 was never felt by the imaginary beings of 
 Rousseau and Byron s creation more imperiously than by 
 myself. My heart was offered up with a devotion that knew 
 no reserve. Long an object of proscription and treachery, 
 I have at last (more mortifying to the pride of man) become 
 one of utter indifference. But these are the chastenings of 
 a tender Father, desirous to reclaim his lost and undone child 
 from the error of his ways, and who has " humbled my weak 
 unthinking pride beneath the dispensations of a mysterious 
 wisdom." To that wisdom, I bow with implicit and awful 
 submission; too happy, if I had not daily and hourly cause 
 to upbraid myself with the vilest ingratitude and disobe 
 dience to my heavenly Corrector and Benefactor, 
 
 I wish I may have made myself entirely intelligible. If 
 I should have conveyed to your mind any impression that I 
 did not intend to make, I shall deplore it as the result of the 
 imperfection of language, as well as of my own incapacity 
 to use it. 
 
 The boys left Baltimore on Friday, for their grandfather s. 
 Tom had a hearty cry. Randolph, from the presence of nu 
 merous spectators, was barely able to suppress hid tears, and 
 I was no better off. How is C.? 
 
 May every blessing attend you here and hereafter! Need 
 I sign myself, 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke? 
 
 DR. T. B. DUDLEY. 
 Direct to Washington. 
 
208 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER CLXIL 
 
 Washington, Dec. 21, 1819.. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I WROTE you a very long letter the day before yes 
 terday, which, at one time, I had thoughts of suppressing; 
 and, perhaps, had better have suppressed. My error in this 
 case has not been intentional. My judgment, as well as my 
 other faculties, has become much impaired; so much so, that 
 I can scarcely turn me in any direction, without a dread of 
 committing some wrong. My letter from Richmond has, 
 probably, never come to hand. I would be glad to hear some 
 thing of my affairs at home; although I left it without a desire 
 ever to see it again. For the first time in my life, a vague 
 idea of quitting it for ever floated through my mind one 
 that my engagements will, probably, forbid me to execute. 
 I would not leave it dishonourably. 
 
 Here I find myself isole, almost as entirely as at Roanoke 
 for the quiet of which (the last paragraph to the contrary, not 
 withstanding,) I have some times panted; or, rather, to escape 
 from the scene around me. Once the object of proscription, 
 I am become one of indifference to all around me; and, in this 
 respect, I am, in no wise, worse off than the rest for, from 
 all that I can see and learn, there are no two persons here 
 that care a single straw for one another. My reception is 
 best by the old Jacobins enrages next, by the federalists, 
 who have abjured their heresies, and reconciled themselves 
 to the true Catholic church worst of all, by the old minori 
 ty men, white-washed into courtiers. 
 
 My harness I wish altered in the traces, so as to fit the 
 chair at B s. in Richmond. The bay colt, out of Brunette, 
 I intend for a chair horse; the gray and the chestnut mare for 
 the saddle. 
 
 I shall send you my letters, which you will read, except 
 those marked " private. " You will find in the papers much 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 209 
 
 amusement, and some instruction. Adieu! That the dear 
 est wishes of your heart may be gratified, is my earnest prayer. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
 P. S. Lord Byron is indisputably the author of Don Juan. 
 Murray, of Albemarle street, (his publisher,) remonstrated 
 against printing it. His lordship wrote him, for answer, 
 "that, if he refused, he should never publish for him again; 
 that the Reviewers, &c., had set him upon the pinnacle of 
 
 fame, and that by , they should now read, not what 
 
 they liked, but what he pleased." I see a writer in the En 
 quirer denies it to be his production. The above I have from 
 the most authentic source. 
 
 LETTER CLXIII. 
 
 Washington, January 21, 1820. 
 Friday. 
 
 ON my return home last night, after dining abroad, I found 
 the enclosed note. Gen. S. is in earnest, in his civilities to 
 you. He expressed in his countenance, as well as in his lan 
 guage, the greatest mortification at your sudden departure. 
 
 To-day we hear Mr. Pinkney without fail. He announced 
 it himself, yesterday, on moving the adjournment. Of course, 
 he has the floor as soon as the question comes up, and the 
 house will be crowded to suffocation. I go to hear; and 
 shall maintain my seat against the combined forces of the la 
 dies, who entre nous have no business in legislative halls, or 
 courts of justice. Mad. Roland might have saved her pretty 
 head from t\\t gallant Frenchmen, if she had not put on the 
 breeches, (or, rather, put them off,) and turned sans culottes. 
 
 27 
 
210 LETTERS OF 
 
 I agree entirely with Mad. de Stael, that the liberty which 
 women enjoy in France, is only the effect of the indifference 
 of the men; and a cause of it too as, she says, the Turk, 
 who locks up his wife, shows, at least, that he puts some va 
 lue upon her. So soon as the sex, leaving her own peculiar 
 province, encroaches upon that of man, all her privileges are 
 put in jeopardy. 
 
 By this time, I suppose, you are in Richmond; and, on the 
 whole, you have had very good weather for your journey. 
 Let me know all about it. I sometimes hear of Harry T., 
 through his correspondents, Messrs. C., &c. To me he ne 
 ver writes nor does L. 
 
 Remember me to the Doctor and Mrs. B. in the most af 
 fectionate terms. I shall write, until Monday, to Richmond. 
 Let me know of your movements. I heard, yesterday, from 
 Barksdale. Do not forget my best remembrance to all at 
 Obslo and Clay hill. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
 LETTER CLXIV. 
 
 Washington, Feb. 4, 1820. 
 MY DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I AM blind, and almost dead. The vertiginous affec^ 
 tion of my head, arises from, but is not caused by, an indis* 
 tinct vision the effect of which is indescribable. It obliged 
 me to give up, yesterday, one of the best arguments that I 
 ever conceived, but of which I was delivered by forceps; or, 
 rather by Caesarean operation. The after-birth is yet behind. 
 Your letters from Bucks and Obslo are received. Do net 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 21 1 
 
 expect to hear from me as heretofore, for the reason above; 
 but remember my anxiety until C. is removed, unless it be 
 indispensable to retain him. 
 
 Take lodgings in Richmond, and we will settle the other 
 point at our leisure. 
 
 Essex and Hetty? Pheasants, &c. ? 
 Yours, ever, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 LETTER CLXV. 
 
 Saturday, Feb. 5, 1820. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 You will have received my scarcely legible letters. I 
 hope you will remove to Richmond forthwith. Have the 
 goodness to explain what you meant by having seen my note 
 upon note. I hope none of the earwigs and utterers of false 
 news have attempted to hurt me, with my young friend 
 Henry C., or his nephew. 
 
 G. T. applied to me to know whether it was true, as his 
 wife was told in Richmond, that I had written to R. ! ! ! 
 abusing him, (G. T.,) as the author of "The Fudge Fami 
 ly." I told Mr. T., very serenely, that although I might 
 plead to the jurisdiction of the court, (his wife not giving up 
 the author of this story which came "so directly" to her;) 
 yet, as I was not disposed to be exigeant, I referred him to 
 Mr. R., and could give him written authority and request to 
 show any thing he might have in my writing. I also cau 
 tioned him against a similar application to me in future, as I 
 should meet it with a flat refusal. 
 
 When you get married, as I hope and trust you will, I 
 shall drop our correspondence, so far as it is confidential. 
 
212 LETTERS OF 
 
 Burn this and all others as fast as you receive them. The 
 wretches here, not content to make me answerable for what 
 I do say, get bastard wit, in order to lay it at my door. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH. 
 
 A letter from Colonel M. has relieved me for the present, 
 on the subject of C. 
 
 LETTER CLXVI. 
 
 Washington, Feb. 7, 1820. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 I WROTE you, a few days ago, perhaps the last letter 
 that you will ever receive in my handwriting; for it has 
 pleased Him who gave me sight, to take it away almost en 
 tirely. I must endeavour to be thankful for the little that 
 is left me of this blessing, as well as for other innumerable 
 and greater blessings. The state of the roads is such, that 
 I anticipate the mail by a day, for fear of miscarriage, in re 
 questing that my horses and Johnny may be ready to set 
 out at a moment s warning, I mean Roanoke, as well as the 
 carriage horses. About this time, I suppose, they are just 
 off a hard journey. Tell Johnny that I expect to find them 
 in high condition, and shall take no apologies, by condition 
 he knows that I do not understand fatness, but grooming. I 
 have no opinion of stalled beeves making good draft cattle. 
 Have the goodness to get Clay equipped for coming on with 
 Johnny; I shall probably send or carry him to Philadelphia. 
 You may imagine how anxious I am to hear from you, and 
 the topics about which I feel so much interest; take them in 
 the following order: 
 
 Your own affair Ca. CK Plantation affairs, generally 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 213 
 
 Essex and Hetty Nancy, &c. Pheasants Partridges 
 
 Summer ducks fruit trees Sir Archy Colt and Phillis 
 blood stock, generally tobacco. Look at this letter when 
 you write yours. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 His 
 
 X 
 
 mark. 
 
 I wrote you some days ago that I had received Colonel 
 M s. letter: thank him for it in my name, and remember 
 me to him and all our neighbours; if, indeed, we may be 
 said to have any I mean W., Cl., Co. S., &c. 
 
 LETTER CLXVII. 
 
 Feb. 8, 1820. 
 
 I WROTE you yesterday about my horses. As the south 
 ern mail has failed this morning, I wrote again to take two 
 chances. I want the horses put in the highest condition; by 
 which Johnny will understand not fatness so much as groom 
 ing. The carriage horses and Roanoke to be ready to set 
 out at a minute s warning. C s. shirts to be made, and he 
 equipped for a journey. Tell Tom M. to get the tobacco 
 down as soon as possible. 
 
 Return me, under cover, the numbers of the Ploughboy 
 that I sent you. You have, I fear, received the last letter 
 in my handwriting. Remember me to Colonel M. and all 
 friends. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
214 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER CLXVIII. 
 
 Washington, Jan. 8, 1821. 
 Monday. 
 
 IN consequence of the snow storm, your letter of the 
 5th, did not arrive in time for me to answer it by yesterday s 
 mail. That of December 27th has lain by me for more than 
 a week, during which it was my constant intention to write 
 "to-morrow." But the state of my spirits has rendered 
 even that a formidable undertaking. I received, also, yes 
 terday, a letter from Dr. B., which, now that my hand is in, 
 I will try and thank him for to-day. 
 
 I am not determined what I shall do with myself at the 
 close of the session, nor about any thing else, except the 
 irremediable hopelessness of my case. 
 
 You do not mention whether you have received the horse 
 from Roanoke. If you have, and an occasion offers, I wish 
 you would sell it for what it will bring. You can send for 
 another. 
 
 I enclose a check on Petersburg. I wish you to stand on 
 no ceremony with me. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 Remember me to Gilmer, Bouldin, Leigh, &c. &c. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 215 
 
 LETTER CLXIX. 
 
 Washington, Feb. 8, 1821. 
 Thursday. 
 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter came to hand the evening before last, and 
 I was very desirous of acknowledging its receipt yesterday, 
 but was incapable, from a severe catarrhal affection that has 
 confined me to my room for the last six days, attended by 
 pains in the back, &c., which hardly permitted me to remain 
 a minute in one posture. I write, now, only to do away 
 your uneasiness. I am sensibly better this morning; but my 
 lungs and eyes are yet greatly affected. I have been obliged 
 to omit attending to several letters on business; also, several 
 from Joseph C. and his brother who inquire kindly after 
 you. 
 
 Remember me to such as care to ask about me, and excuse 
 these few lines, for I am in no condition to write. 
 Yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 LETTER CLXX. 
 
 Washington, Feb. 17, 182L 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter was received too late, yesterday, to ac 
 knowledge it by return of mail, and this morning, by nine 
 o clock, I had to attend the committee on poor Burwell s fu 
 neral, which left me not a moment s time to spare. 
 
216 LETTERS OF 
 
 I am afraid that Richard C. labours under some pulmona 
 ry affection, as you do not announce the cause of his visit to 
 the south of France. Poor H.! he is a sacrifice to the un 
 precedented state of the times. I hope enough will be left 
 to provide comfortably for his widow and the helpless part 
 of his family. 
 
 Paul C., who has been here about a week, just now called 
 to see me. He tells me that little John M. (our quondam 
 neighbour) is dead, and that Dr. V. and his brother Samuel are 
 married, the former to a widow D., of Lynchburg, and the 
 other to a Miss R,, of Lexington. Dr. H. T. is here, and 
 P. C. informs me, vibrating between Charlotte and Washing 
 ton City as a future theatre of practice. 
 
 I admire your taste on the subject of Maria G., that was. 
 Ask Mrs. B., if the youngest of the musical Ls s. did not 
 remind her of Mary Anne, at the same age. My best re 
 gards to her. I regret to hear of F s. ill health ; but I some 
 times think she may have a happy escape from an indiffe 
 rent or worthless husband, and the cares and pains of a family. 
 Give my best love to her and E. 
 
 You make no mention of L. Remember me to him, and the 
 
 B a and C s, whenever you see them: also, to Gilmer, 
 
 Bouldin, Rootes, and Richard Morris; and, though last, not 
 least, Tom Miller. 
 
 Farewell! and may every good attend you. 
 Yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 Mrs. R. has presented Charles with another chopping boy. 
 Frank K. has just left me: he asked after you very kindly. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 21 ? 
 
 LETTER CLXXI. 
 
 Sunday Morning. 
 
 I AM much gratified by your letter of Friday, which 1 
 have just received. The sporting intelligence is quite ac 
 ceptable. I take great interest, even now, in the subject 
 Last autumn I enjoyed myself, on several occasions, shoot 
 ing both woodcocks and partridges. By "John Sim," of 
 Hanover, I suppose you mean a son of Nicholas Syme, an 
 old fellow sportsman of mine. There is one of your good 
 shots, (1 need not name him,) with whom I hope you do not 
 associate. "Tell me your company," &c. I have no doubt 
 that you had better go out with C., once a week, than have 
 a certain description of persons haunt your chambers. I 
 learn, for the first time, that John has left Cambridge. Re* 
 member me to the whole firm- Mrs. A. & Co., and tell her 
 that, when I find I am about to die, I mean to be carried, if 
 practicable, to her house to be nursed. 
 
 You mention nothing of Leigh. Has William been to see 
 his brother? Do you hear from Amelia? Below you have 
 a draft, on Johnson s house, for three hundred dollars. God 
 speed you ! The air of abruptness in this letter, is occasioned 
 by my wish not to postpone a reply until to-morrow, and the 
 mail is in the future in rus, as old Lilly hath it. 
 
 Dr. B. can, and will, show you a scratch from me of this 
 day s date. Write about every thing and every body, and 
 seal with wax. 
 
 Sincerely, yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke, 
 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 Remember me to all friends. 
 
 26 
 
218 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER CLXXII. 
 
 Washington, Feb. 28, 1821. 
 
 YOUR letter found me, as usual, in bed. Yesterday, I was 
 very agreeably surprised by one from E. C. It is not my 
 fault that my sister s children have been brought up stran 
 gers to me. I had the truest regard for their mother, and 
 have omitted no opportunity that has been allowed me to cul 
 tivate their acquaintance, and attach them to me. You say 
 nothing of F s. health. Who is the Mr. B., H. R. late 
 ly married? Is it poor H s. son-in-law? I am grieved for 
 the condition of his family: I mean H s. They have been 
 used to affluence and ease. What a reverse awaits them ! 
 
 Yesterday, I got a letter from Mrs. B., which gives me 
 very gratifying accounts of the boys. She also mentions 
 Tom L s. improved health. Let Watkins L. know this. I 
 wrote, yesterday, in reply to E s. letter; but when you 
 see her or Fanny, give my love to them both. I have not 
 heard a syllable of St. George since he left Richmond. I am 
 impatient to get away from this sink of iniquity and corrup 
 tion. Remember me to all friends the C s., (I am truly sor 
 ry to hear of Richard s situation,) Br., Be., L., Bo., G., T. 
 M., R., and R. M. God bless you. 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 MR. T. B. DUDLEY. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 219 
 
 LETTER CLXXIII. 
 
 Roanoke, June 10, 1821. 
 Sunday. 
 
 I AM concerned to perceive, from your letter of the 4th, 
 which I have just now received, that your change of residence 
 has not been attended by the consequences which were na 
 turally to have been expected from it. It is, however, proba 
 ble enough. that you wrote under the influence of a temporary 
 depression of spirits, which surrounding circumstances will 
 soon dispel, if it be not already dissipated. You do not over 
 rate the solitariness of the life I lead here. It is dreary beyond 
 conception, except by the actual sufferer. I can only acqui 
 esce in it, as the lot in which I have been cast by the good 
 providence of God; and endeavour to bear it, and the daily 
 increasing infirmities, which threaten total helplessness, as 
 well as I may. "Many long weeks have passed since you 
 heard from me:" And why should I write? To say that I 
 had made another notch in my tally? or to enter upon the 
 monotonous list of grievances, mental and bodily, which ego 
 tism itself could scarcely bear to relate, and none other to lis 
 ten to. You say truly: "there is no substitute" for what 
 you name, "that can fill the heart." The bitter conviction 
 has long ago rushed upon my own, and arrested its functions. 
 Not that it is without its paroxysms, which, I thank Heaven, 
 itself, alone, is conscious of. Perhaps I am wrong to indulge 
 in this vein; but I must write thus, or not at all. No punish 
 ment, except remorse, can exceed the misery I feel. My 
 heart swells to bursting, at past recollections; and, as the pre 
 sent is without enjoyment, so is the future without hope; so 
 far, at least, as respects this world. 
 
 I found the horse here when I got home, and was told Mr. 
 Sim s wagonner left him. I sincerely wish that you would 
 cultivate a more cheerful temper of mind than you appear to 
 possess, or than this effusion, of one worn down by disappoint- 
 
LETTERS OF 
 
 menis, and disease, and premature old age, is calculated to in 
 spire. 
 
 May God, in his mercy, protect and bless you; and may 
 you never experience the forlorn and desolate sensations of 
 him who has endeavoured, with whatever success, to prove 
 your friend. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke, 
 
 PR. DUDLEY, 
 
 I wrote the ahove yesterday. Perhaps you may think that 
 I, too, have acquired the "knack of writing letters, and put 
 ting nothing into them;" hut, really, I have nothing to put 
 in. You say nothing of Dr. and Mrs. B., of L., the C s., 
 Mrs. B., G. or R.; not to mention my nieces. 
 
 The true cure for maladies like yours, is employment, 
 "Be not solitary; be not idle!" was all that Burton could ad 
 vise. Rely upon it, life was not given us to be spent in 
 dreams and reverie, but for active, useful exertion; exertion 
 that turns to some account to ourselves, or to others not la 
 borious idleness. (I say nothing of religion, which is between 
 the heart and its Creator.) This preaching is, I know, foolish 
 enough: but let it pass. We have all two educations; one we 
 have given to us the other we give ourselves; and, after a 
 certain time of life, when the character has taken its ply, it 
 is idle to attempt to change it. 
 
 If I did not think that it would aggravate your symptoms, 
 I would press you to come here. In the sedulous study and 
 practice of your profession, I hope you will find a palliative, 
 if not a complete cure, of your moral disease. Yours is the 
 age of exertion the prime and vigour of life. But I have 
 "fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf: and that which should 
 accompany old age, as honour, love, obedience, troops of 
 friends,* I must not look to have; but, in their stead, - ." 
 
 You say my friends in Richmond would, no doubt, be glad 
 
 "< 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 221 
 
 to see me there. To tell you the truth, I find such visits 
 very unsuitable to the straitened state of my finances; and, 
 upon the whole, I am, perhaps, best here. Habit, after a lit 
 tle while, enables us to bear any thing. Here I am free from 
 apprehensions of being in other folks way, and try to bear 
 my lot without flinching; yearning, sometimes, after human 
 converse, so as to make acceptable, for the moment, the pre 
 sence of people, without one congenial sentiment or princi- 
 pie. 
 
 Miss Margaret C. was married on Tuesday, the 14th of 
 May, to Mr. L. I have been there once to dinner, and re 
 turned the same day. John and Henry have dined here, and 
 staid all night. I have dined once at Col. C s. On his way 
 to Charlotte Court House, 1 saw Mr. L. for the first time since 
 my return from Washington. Mr. B. and Peyton R. came 
 home with me from court, (where I was obliged to go,) and 
 staid the next day with me. I have since been closely con 
 fined, under a course of mercury; and the weather has been 
 so cloudy and threatening, although we have little actual rain, 
 that I dare not venture out. Sims 1 have not seen. The 
 hawks have caught both my summer ducks. Nancy is very 
 ill. Old Essex, too, is laid up with a swelled jaw, from a ca 
 rious tooth. This, I believe, is the sum of our domestic 
 news, except that old Dido is plus caduque que son maitre. 
 I am my own physician, and feel my way in the dark, like 
 the rest of the faculty. Adieu. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke, 
 
 Monday Morning, 
 
222 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER CLXXIV. 
 
 Roanoke, June 24, 1821. 
 Sunday. 
 
 YOUR letter of the 21st reached me to-day, together with 
 one from Ryland, under your cover. I received, at the 
 same time, another letter from him, dated as far back as the 
 14th of March, from Miiledgeville, addressed to your care; 
 that address is scratched out, and, in a very clumsy hand, 
 "Pr. Edward, care Mr. P. Randolph, 7 inserted: the "Rich 
 mond " post-mark is dated "April," but I cannot make out 
 the day. Poor Ryland is afflicted with a quartan ague that 
 he brought from the south to Virginia, and carried back with 
 him. I heard, also, to-day, from Edward R., who has just 
 set out for Kentucky. This is my first intelligence from 
 Amelia, since I left it. Mrs. R., of Obslo, is much afflicted 
 with a cough. Miss F. A. is to be married to William E. 
 This is the amount of his news. 
 
 You do not mention what "Springs" Mr. C. is carrying 
 his daughters to. I am much concerned to hear of F s. 
 situation; and yet, poor thing! it is, perhaps, a blessed es 
 cape from worse afflictions: " never by a rake suspected, ne 
 ver by sot neglected." I am very sorry, also, to hear of 
 Mr. B s. ill health. You say nothing of G.; and I hear no 
 thing from him or D. B., which last circumstance rather mor 
 tifies me. Leigh has long given up writing to me. Neither 
 
 do you mention the C s, in whose welfare I feel a strong 
 
 interest. 
 
 You speak of my leaving this place, as if it were in my 
 power to do it at will. Unless I could find a purchaser for 
 it, I must remain a prisoner here, probably for the brief re 
 mainder of my life; although entirely unable to attend to 
 my affairs. I have twice mounted my horse and rode down 
 to Colonel C s., and staid all night, being unable to endure 
 the want of society any longer. On one of these occasions, 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 223 
 
 I saw his lately married daughter. The very thought of 
 meeting with any person who cares a straw for my existence, 
 tightens my chest and swells my throat. It gives me some 
 what the same sensation that I felt after poor Randolph s 
 death, the first time I took the road to Obslo, below B s. If 
 I did not fear tiring out the welcome of my friends, I would 
 go to Amelia for a week or ten days: and yet the return 
 would be but so much the more bitter. Use reconciles me 
 to it a little; but the first few days after I get home, are al 
 most intolerable. God s will be done! This is a better re 
 liance, believe me, than " submission to the power of desti 
 ny," of which you speak. 
 
 I have seen W. M. W., once, by accident, on the road: ra 
 ther, I rode as far as his lane, and met him. Asked him to 
 dine with me; but Mrs. W. was in daily expectation of the 
 sage femme, and he was obliged to watch the incubation. 
 
 If ever I get as far as Richmond, I shall accept your offer 
 of a bed. Did you get the gun-locks? They were left at 
 Mrs. K s. for you, on the parlour table. About this time, 
 you have, probably, seen P. R. He was to go to Richmond 
 on Tuesday last. He and Mr. B. spent the day after Char 
 lotte Court, here. He is always in such a hurry, and so 
 much engaged, that I am deterred from visiting him as often 
 as I otherwise should do. This letter is written with a pen 
 of your own making, that has not been mended, and has 
 done all my writing for nine months; besides, a good deal 
 for W. L. 
 
 I pray God to keep and bless you. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 My best regards to Dr. and Mrs. B. I heard to-day from 
 C: he is well at school on Elk Ridge. 
 
 You will be glad to hear that John M. is doing well. He 
 has called once, on his way to Halifax, Ct, and I slightly ex 
 pected him to-day j but he has not come. 
 
224 LETTERS OF 
 
 Tuesday Morning. 
 
 Colonel C. was here yesterday. I suspect he will find it 
 in his heart to give two-thirds of its value for the ferry quar 
 ter. I have made him an offer, and he has taken time to 
 consider of it. This sale will relieve my most pressing dif 
 ficulties. It is true that it will injure the value of this place, 
 which is already scant of timber. 
 
 LETTER CLXXV. 
 
 Roanoke, July 24, 1821. 
 Saturday. 
 
 As my wagon goes to-day to Petersburg, I avail myself 
 of it to thank you for your letter of the 6th, if, indeed, this 
 old pen, made and mended to a stamp by yourself, will ena 
 ble me to do it. 
 
 I am well aware (and have long been so) of the character 
 of the people you guard me against. Odious as it is, I think 
 it differs somewhat to its advantage from that of the idle and 
 improvident, which is equally dishonest and more contemp 
 tible. Whatever advantage these people gain over me, it is 
 with my eyes open; for I know that to deal with them at 
 all, is to suffer imposition. But I have no motive to husband 
 my resources. If I leave enough to pay my debts, I am sa 
 tisfied. Here I am yearning after the society of some one 
 who is not merely indifferent to me, and condemned, day af 
 ter day, to a solitude like Robinson Crusoe s. But each day 
 brings my captivity and exile nearer to their end. 
 
 Rely upon it, you are entirely mistaken in your estimate 
 of the world. Bad as it is, mankind are not quite so silly 
 as you suppose. Look around you, and see who are held in 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 225 
 
 the highest esteem. I will name but one-^-Mr. Chief Jus 
 tice. It is not the "rogue" who gains the good opinion of 
 his own sex, or of the other. It is the man, who by the ex 
 ercise of the faculties which nature and education have given 
 him, asserts his place among his fellows; and, whilst useful 
 to all around him, establishes his claim to their respect, as 
 an equal and independent member of society. He may 
 have every other good quality under heaven;, but, wanting 
 this, a man becomes an object of pity to the good, and of 
 contempt to the vile. Look at Mr. Leigh, his brother Wil 
 liam, Mr. Wickham, Dr. B^ &c. &c., and compare them 
 with the drones which society is impatient to shake from 
 its lap. 
 
 Mr. Macon and Mr. Edwards were with me four days 
 last week: they left me this day week. Sam waits. Fare 
 well! 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke, 
 
 LETTER CLXXVL 
 
 Roanoke, Aug. 5, 1821. 
 
 I SHOULD not be able to summon spirits to reply to your 
 letter, were it not for a remark it contains on Mr. M., which- 
 I believe to be unjust, as it obviously is most injurious to his 
 character. Indeed, I think a very little reflection on that of 
 General E., (from your own description of it,) might induce 
 you to ascribe his conduct to some other cause than the in 
 stigation of a man of the highest probity, and one, too, who 
 has shown as great a disregard for money as is consistent 
 with honesty and independence. That he wrote the will, is 
 no proof (not even presumptive) that he excited or foment- 
 
 29 
 
226 LETTERS OF 
 
 ed a spirit of unforgiveness in the testator towards an absent 
 child; an act worthy of a demon. Mr. L. wrote Mrs. R s. 
 will, but it is by no means such a will as he would have ad 
 vised. Would it be right in me to ascribe the tenor of the 
 will to him? 
 
 I happen to know more about Mr. M s. sentiments, in re 
 lation to the unhappy feuds in that family, than you proba 
 bly can do, and from the most direct source. I believe I 
 hinted something of this to you once before; and I have no 
 hesitation in pronouncing that you have been misled into a 
 belief that does injury to him. Of the other gentleman I 
 know nothing, at least, in relation to that affair, and can, 
 therefore, say nothing. 
 
 This morning s mail brings the news of little Bathurst 
 Randolph s death. Harriet died three weeks before him! 
 The situation of the childless mother is, I fear, one that 
 would render death desirable, even in the opinion of her 
 friends. 
 
 God bless you. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 William Coleman died on the 17th July. The Colonel, 
 John, and Maria, set off to-morrow for the Springs. I have 
 become seasoned to solitude, and find company unwelcome, 
 unless it be that of some one whom I particularly like. 
 
 LETTER CLXXVII. 
 
 Washington, Dec. 9, 182(T. 
 
 AT length, my dear Theodore, your letter of the 1st of 
 August is received, (post marked " Charlotte Court House, 
 November 28.") I hope you do not think I mean to retain 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 227 
 
 this money, which I would put under this cover, if I had 
 not too much experience of the mail. 
 
 My health is as deplorably bad as it ever was, except the 
 spring of 1817. I have crawled out in consequence of the 
 
 M question, but am incapable, as well as unwilling, 
 
 to take a part in it. I am glad to hear that you spend your 
 time so agreeably. Mine is spent in unintermitting misery. 
 
 When you see Dr. or Mrs. B., present me to them in the 
 most friendly terms; also F. G., L., the C s., Mrs. B, and 
 Mrs. R. 
 
 Tell Dr. B. that I received his letter this morning, and 
 will thank him for it when I have strength to do so. If I 
 survive this session, I will embark in March for some better 
 climate: mean while, my affairs at home go to absolute ruin. 
 I shall leave a power with Mr. L. of Halifax to sell all I 
 have indeed, he has one unrevoked, but while I am in the 
 country, he declines acting on it. God bless you. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 LETTER CLXXVIIL* 
 
 Washington, Dec. 14, 1820. 
 
 I HAVE just received your letter of the 12th: with what 
 sensations I read it, you can judge better than I can describe. 
 I hope you will not leave Virginia; and above all, for a cli 
 mate the most noxious to your particular habit. My heart 
 gushes over towards you. To establish yourself in your 
 
 * This letter is an answer to one from me, communicating my intention of 
 making a voyage to the East Indies, and was the cause of my giving up the 
 intention. D. 
 
228 LETTERS OF 
 
 profession, where you are, requires only a little time and pa 
 tience. You are surrounded by respectable persons, to whom 
 you are known, and by whom you are respected; with whom 
 you can associate on terms of equality and freedom. This 
 is no light advantage not to be given up but upon the most 
 cogent considerations. The cloud that overhangs Richmond 
 will pass away: mean while, consider me your banker; and 
 if your pride revolt at the obligation, I will consent to re 
 imbursement out of the first fruits of your practice. But it 
 ought not so to revolt, because it will wound the already 
 bruised. 
 
 Tell Harry T. that I learned yesterday, for the first time, 
 that he was in Richmond. God bless him, and you too, my 
 dear Theodore. 
 
 Your friend, if ever there was one, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 Remember me to all that care for me particularly to 
 Mr. B. 
 
 LETTER CLXXIX. 
 
 Washington, Dec. 18, 1821. 
 
 Tuesday. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 YOUR letter reached me yesterday: since then I have 
 been excruciated with rheumatism. The very sensible de 
 cay of all my faculties of body and mind, more especially 
 of sight, touch, memory, and invention, renders writing ex 
 tremely irksome to me, and admonishes me of the indis 
 cretion, (not to say folly,) of lingering on the public stage, 
 until, perhaps, I shall be hissed off. My part, however, of 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 229 
 
 a mute, does not require much power, since it attracts no 
 notice; and he who does not offer himself to the observation 
 of mankind, may well hope to escape their censure. Never 
 theless, my object now is petere honestam demissionem. 
 
 I refer you to Dr. B. for my adventures by flood and field. 
 Mr. S. of Missouri informed me yesterday that Tom had at 
 last got his gun locks, which I hope he will make turn to 
 some account among the savages of Boone s Lick. They 
 are all good locks, and a part of them of the highest finish. 
 
 I met Mrs. T. and poor Mrs. R. beyond Hanover Court 
 House. These are some of the very few people in this 
 world, by whom I have been treated with kindness, under 
 every circumstance of my unprosperous life; and when I 
 forget them, may my God forget me. B., too, has been un 
 affectedly and disinterestedly kind to me, andJI hope I have 
 been able to make him some return for it. He is resolved 
 to sell out, at whatever loss; and to remove from a circle in 
 which he must share the general ruin, in case he should re 
 main. The mail is closing. Remember me kindly to 
 Mrs. K. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 You mention the want of employment in your profession. 
 No man ever did get practice in any profession who did not 
 seek it, who did not show a strong desire for it. Now, at 
 the hazard of your displeasure, I must tell you what I heard 
 this summer: One of your brethren told a gentleman of my 
 acquaintance, "that you were too fond of your gun for a 
 medical man." I also heard of your making an appoint 
 ment to shoot at the coal-pits, and leaving word with your 
 servant that you had gone to see a patient. * This I did not 
 believe: but the consequences of establishing a reputation as 
 a sportsman, must be serious to a medical man. 
 
 * It was false. 
 
230 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER CLXXX. 
 
 Washington, Dec. 21, 1820. 
 
 I WISH I had it in my power to make a more suitable re 
 turn for your letters; but my nerves are shattered, and the 
 climate is truly Cimmerian. We are more than dull here 
 we are gloomy. Last night, we lost another of our members: 
 Mr. Slocum, of North Carolina. I have been meditating a 
 Christmas visit to Oakland, but the weather has interposed its 
 veto. Mean while, our " mess " is dispersing itself to Phila 
 delphia, &c., leaving me, as usual, in the minority. 
 
 Remember me to all who care for me. I need not specify 
 them. Tell Gilmer that I received his letter of the 18th, a 
 few minutes since, and thank him sincerely for it. Mr. T. 
 and Mr. S., of New York, have read his pamphlet, and ex 
 pressed very great delight at it. He would not be displeased 
 at the warmth with which they commend the style, the re 
 search and argument of the author, in which they heartily 
 concur. It is, at present, in the hands of Mr. K., of New 
 York. 
 
 If T. be in Richmond, ask him "if he has forgotten me?" 
 God bless you. Let me hear from you as often as conve 
 nient. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH, 231 
 
 LETTER CLXXXI. 
 
 December 26, 1820. 
 
 MR. BURRILL, the most useful, if not the most able mem 
 ber of the Senate, died last night, after a few days indisposi 
 tion. I write from my bed. Mr. Macon advises me to 
 leave this place as soon as practicable. There is certainly a 
 state of atmosphere here fatal lo invalids. Be so good as to 
 announce to the Enquirer the death of Mr. Burrill, of Rhode 
 Island. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 LETTER CLXXXII. 
 
 Washington, Dec. 30, 1821. 
 
 YOTTR letter of the- 20th, has lain several days on my table. 
 The difficulty of writing, produced by natural decay, is so in 
 creased by the badness of the materials furnished by our con 
 tractors, (who make the public pay the price of the best,) that 
 I dread the beginning of a letter. At this time, it requires- 
 my nicest management to make this pen do legible execu 
 tion. 
 
 So true is your remark, that I have tried to strike roof 
 into some of the people around me one family, in particu 
 lar; but I found the soil too stony for me to penetrate, and r 
 after some abortive efforts, I gave it up nor shall I ever re 
 new the attempt, unless some change in the inhabitants should 
 take place. 
 
 The medical gentleman, whom you suppose to be actuated 
 
232 LETTERS OF 
 
 by no friendly spirit towards you, made the observation in 
 question, to one whom he believed well disposed towards you; 
 and he mentioned it to another, of the same description, who 
 told it to me, I do not believe that the remark extended be 
 yond us three. 
 
 One of the best and wisest men I ever knew, has often said 
 to me that a decayed family could never recover its loss of 
 rank in the world, until the members of it left off talking and 
 dwelling upon its former opulence. This remark, founded in 
 a long and close observation of mankind, I have seen verified, 
 in numerous instances, in my own connexions who, to use 
 the words of my oracle, "will never thrive, until they can 
 become poor folks: 7 " he added, " they may make some 
 struggles, and with apparent success, to recover lost ground; 
 they may, and sometimes do, get half way up again; but they 
 are sure to fall back unless, reconciling themselves to cir 
 cumstances, they become in form, as well as in fact, poor 
 folks." 
 
 The blind pursuit of wealth, for the sake of hoarding, is a 
 species of insanity. There are spirits, and not the least wor 
 thy, who, content with an humble mediocrity, leave the field 
 of wealth and ambition open to more active, perhaps more 
 guilty, competitors. Nothing can be more respectable than 
 the independence that grows out of self-denial. The man 
 who, by abridging his wants, can find time to devote to the 
 cultivation of his mind, or the aid of his fellow-creatures, is a 
 being far above the plodding sons of industry and gain. His 
 is a spirit of the noblest order. But what shall we say to the 
 drone, whom society is eager to "shake from her encum 
 bered lap ?" who lounges from place to place, and spends 
 more time in " Adonizing" his person, even in a morning, 
 than would serve to earn his breakfast? who is curious in 
 his living, a connoisseur in wines, fastidious in his cookery; 
 but who never knew the luxury of earning a single meal? 
 Such a creature, "sponging" from house to house, and al 
 ways oh the borrow, may yet be found in Virginia. One 
 more generation will, I trust, put an end to them; and 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 233 
 
 their posterity, if they have any, must work or steal, di 
 rectly. 
 
 Men are like nations. One founds a family, the other an 
 empire both destined, sooner or later, to decay. This is the 
 way in which ability manifests itself. They who belong to 
 a higher order, like Newton, and Milton, and Shakspeare, 
 leave an imperishable name. I have no quarrel with such 
 as are content with their original obscurity, vegetate on from 
 father to son; "whose ignoble blood has crept through clod- 
 poles ever since the flood " but 1 cannot respect them. He 
 who contentedly eats the bread of idleness and dependence is 
 beneath contempt. I know not why I have run out at this 
 rate. Perhaps it arises from a passage in your letter. I can 
 not but think you are greatly deceived. I do not believe the 
 world to be so little clear-sighted. 
 
 What the < covert insinuations" against you, on your ar 
 rival at Richmond, were, I am at a loss to divine. I never 
 heard the slightest disparagement of your moral character; 
 and I know nobody less obnoxious to such imputations. 
 
 When you see the C s., present my best wishes and re 
 membrance to them all. I had hoped to hear from Rich 
 ard. He is one of the young men about Richmond, with 
 whom it is safe to associate. Noscitur e Sorio is older than 
 the days of Partridge; and he who is the companion of the 
 thriftless, is sure never to thrive: tavern haunters and loun 
 gers are no friends to intellectual, moral, or literary improve 
 ment, any more than to the accumulation of wealth. 
 
 1 have seen nobody that you know but Frank K. and Gen. 
 S. The last asked particularly after you. That you may 
 prosper in this life, and reach eternal happiness in the life to 
 come, is my earnest prayer. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 Remember me to F. G. and Mr. R. Is he to marry 
 Mrs. B.? 
 
 30 
 
234 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER CLXXXIII. 
 
 Washington, Jan. 17, 1822. 
 Thursday. 
 
 YOUR letter of the day before yesterday, was brought in 
 a few minutes ago, and I have read it over my coffee. I am 
 afraid that (not expecting two letters in succession from me) 
 you may have omitted to apply for my last in time to send 
 the truss for Jemboy, by the post-man, to-morrow. 
 
 I sincerely hope you will avoid, as far as possible, all in 
 tercourse with the person referred to by both of us. His 
 character long equivocal has, at last, become openly infa 
 mous. He has been reduced in his circumstances, not by 
 mere negative qualities, or a false, but more pardonable hu 
 manity to his slaves, for he was a notoriously hard master, 
 and made great crops, but by want of moral principle; and 
 he has exhibited, not merely an utter destitution of common 
 honesty, but, in the most sacred relations of life, a profligacy 
 and flagitiousness of character, that render his company dis 
 creditable to any that keep it. I have carefully shunned all 
 intercourse with him for years. I was long before shy, not 
 withstanding his professions, &c. &c. Noscitur e sorio. 
 **Tell me your company, and I will tell you what you are." 
 But there is another description of persons, of far inferior 
 turpitude, against all connexion with whom, of whatsoever 
 degree, I would seriously warn you. This consists of men 
 of broken fortunes, and all who are loose on the subject of 
 pecuniary engagements. Time was, when I was fool enough 
 to believe that a man might be negligent of such obligations, 
 and yet a very good fellow, &c.: but long experience has 
 convinced me that he who is lax in this respect is utterly un 
 worthy of trust in any other. He might do an occasional act 
 of kindness, (or what is falsely called generosity,) when it lay 
 in his way, and so may a prostitute, or a highwayman; but 
 he would plunge his nearest friends and dearest connexions, 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 235 
 
 the wife of his bosom, and the children of his loins, into mi 
 sery and want, rather than forego the momentary gratifica 
 tion of appetite, vanity, or laziness. I have come to this con 
 clusion slowly and painfully, but certainly. Of the Shylocks, 
 and the smoolh-visaged men of the world, I think as I believe 
 you do. Certainly, if I were to seek for the hardest of hearts, 
 the most obdurate, unrelenting, and cruel, I should find them 
 among the most selfish of mankind. And who are the most 
 selfish? The usurer, the courtier, and, above all, the spend 
 thrift. 
 
 If I press this subject, it is because (you will pardon me) 
 I have observed in you, upon it, a sort of perversion of the 
 intellectual faculty; an apparent absence to what is passing 
 in the world around you, and an ignorance of the events and 
 characters of the day, that has caused in me I know not whe 
 ther most of surprise or vexation. My terms are strong, 
 and such as you are in no danger of hearing from the sort of 
 people I speak of; unless, indeed, you should happen to owe 
 them money which it is not convenient to pay. Try them 
 once as creditors, and you will find that even the Shylocks, 
 we wot of, are not harder. Indeed, their situation enables 
 them to give the victim a sort of respite, which the others 
 cannot grant. 
 
 Ned R. writes that Mrs. R., of Obslo, cannot yet bear to 
 see him, and he knows not what to do. Poor lady ! if she 
 had had a religious education, it would not have been so. 
 He also says, that Barksdale was soused in Skinny Creek, 
 on his way from Petersburg, and had nearly perished from 
 cold. 
 
 I am sorry for C s. and Harry T s. mishap and loss. Has 
 Dr. B. left Richmond? Remember me to him, &c, I need 
 not specify. 
 
 God bless you ! 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 I am always glad to hear from Amelia, because I have re- 
 
236 LETTERS OF 
 
 ceived kindness there: but those people dislike business, love 
 amusement; and the issue need not be foretold. 
 
 LETTER CLXXXIV. 
 
 Monday Morning, Jan. 21, 1822, 
 
 I HAVE just received your letter of Saturday, which I 
 read with much pleasure; although I cannot think you are 
 right in giving up exercise altogether. You know my opi 
 nion of female society. Without it we should degenerate 
 into brutes. This observation applies with tenfold force ta 
 young men, and those who are in the prime of manhood. 
 For, after a certain time of life, the literary man may make 
 a shift (a poor one, I grant) to do without the society of la 
 dies. To a young man nothing is so important as a spirit of 
 devotion (next to his Creator) to some virtuous and amiable 
 woman, whose image may occupy his heart, and guard it 
 from the pollution which besets it on all sides. Neverthe 
 less, I trust that your fondness for the company of ladies 
 may not rob you of the time which ought to be devoted to 
 reading and meditating on your profession; and, above all, 
 that it may not acquire for you the reputation of Dangler 
 in itself bordering on the contemptible, and seriously detri 
 mental to your professional character. A cautious old 
 Squaretoes, who might have no objection to employing such 
 a one at the bar, would, perhaps, be shy of introducing him 
 as a practitioner in his family, in case he should have a pret 
 ty daughter, or niece, or sister; although all experience shows 
 that, of all male animals, the Dangler is the most harmless 
 to the ladies, who quickly learn, with the intuitive sagacity 
 of the sex, to make a convenience of him, while he serves 
 for a butt, also. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 237 
 
 The person you first refer to, always " appeared, indeed, 
 very much my friend; 1 but it was appearance only. When 
 you shall have observed as much upon the world as I have 
 done, you will know that such characters are as incapable of 
 friendship, or even of conceiving its idea, as poor St. George 
 is of playing on the flute, or comprehending what is meant 
 by the word music. I wonder his attempts on my purse 
 never once succeeded. 
 
 I have a letter from Ryland: he is much pleased with his 
 new position, and is, I trust, doing well. Of the "forbid 
 den fruit," I say, taste not, touch not, handle not the thing. 
 
 God speed you. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 I receive letters from E., which I believe I must get you 
 to answer for me. 
 
 LETTER CLXXXV. 
 
 Tuesday, Jan. 22, 1822. 
 DEAR THEODORE, 
 
 WHO bought the within named stock of horses and 
 asses, and at what prices? also, the wine, and at what price? 
 If I had seen the advertisement in time, I would have pur 
 chased a few dozen; but the sale was over before I saw it. 
 
 What think you of my correction of the within? Show 
 it to E., and ask her opinion; also, if she has read Don Quix- 
 otte and Gil Bias, yet I presume, the latter, of course: but, 
 of the first, she ought to procure Jarvis s translation. 
 
 Have you suffered your French to slip through your me 
 mory? I hope no, but I fear yes; and Latin, too. Rely 
 upon it they are better than the " insipids " you talk of, or 
 
238 LETTERS OF 
 
 the " forbidden fruit/ which can only make your mouth 
 water. 
 
 Little R. was well on the 27th of December, and doing 
 well. He writes from Washington, Mississippi, on that 
 day, 
 
 " After my return from Virginia, I settled in this place, 
 where I am permanently fixed. My present situation 
 pleases me much more than my former one. I have every 
 reason to believe that, in a few years, I shall procure a com 
 fortable independence, until which time I shall not think of 
 returning to Virginia. Indeed, the society in this neighbour 
 hood is so much better than in any other part of the south 
 ern country, that I am almost reconciled to an absence from 
 Virginia." 
 
 Good morning. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 LETTER CLXXXVI. 
 
 Friday, Jan. 25, 1822. 
 
 YOUR letter of the 23d, is just now received, and I am gra 
 tified at once more getting my horse; or, rather, at the pros 
 pect of getting him. You say nothing of his condition 
 shoes, &c. 1 am afraid you were too much in a hurry about 
 him; because you know it will take Johnny two days, in the 
 stage, to get to Frederickburg. Let me request you to men 
 tion his plight, when you received him. 
 
 Is it not, in a great measure, (if not altogether,) your own 
 fault, that you are without valuable standard medical authors? 
 Do you remember my asking you for a list of such books, 
 that I might traRsmit it to London? It would but have di 
 minished the balance due me by those swindlers, T. & M. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 239 
 
 I should suppose, however, that the Richmond library would 
 afford you some good reading. What has become of your 
 Latin and French? the last, especially. 
 
 Last night, I had the pleasure to hear Mrs. F. (whose con 
 cert I attended on Tuesday evening) sing, in a private party, 
 at Mrs. O s. apartments, at Georgetown. I say Mrs. 0., al 
 though my invitation to dinner was from the husband and, 
 for the evening, from the daughter. She sang " There s nae 
 Luck aboot the House," and some other simple airs, very plea 
 singly; (although I have heard them, frequently, better sung;) 
 but I found she could not accompany herself on the piano, be 
 ing out of time, and playing, sometimes, false notes. Never 
 theless, we had a very pleasant party; and, at half past ten, I 
 mounted Wildfire, and alone, (Witch being lame for life, I 
 fear,) came home like a flash of lightning. She is very scary, 
 (the word is not English, and I have no time to seek, in my 
 mind, for a better,) and, at the sight of a carriage, rattling over 
 the frozen road, with two glaring lamps in front, meeting her, 
 put all my horsemanship in requisition. The cold was, and 
 is, intense. 
 
 Tell Dr. B. I have got his letter of the 23d, but am deep 
 with T., on the bankrupt bill, and cannot write by this 
 mail. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 A very skilful physician, who has studied my constitution, 
 going on three years, says there is no salvation for me but 
 removal to another climate, and a particular course, which he 
 has prescribed. 
 
240 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER CLXXXVII. 
 
 Washington, Sunday Morning, 
 January 27, 1822. 
 
 YOUR letter of the 25th has just now come in, with my cof 
 fee, and I find it more exhilarating than even that refreshing be 
 verage; although I am now taking a long (possibly, a final) 
 farewell of it. My disease has gained upon me so rapidly, 
 that I have just despatched a note to my good friend, Frank 
 K., requesting a daily supply of new milk from Mrs. K s. 
 dairy. To it and crackers (bis cuites) I shall confine myself 
 strictly, for at least six weeks; unless I find, at the end of one- 
 third of that term, that animal food, of a solid kind, is indis 
 pensable to me. 1 have used no other bread besides crack 
 ers, (Jamieson s,) heated over again, for some time. My 
 breakfast is two of these, and as many cups of coffee; but not 
 like old E s. At dinner, I take the lean of roast mutton, or 
 the breast of a turkey or pheasant, (without gravy,) and rice; 
 abstaining from salted and smoke-dried meats and vegetables. 
 My drink is toast and water, made by boiling the latter, and 
 pouring it on highly toasted bread so that it acquires the co 
 lour of Cogniac brandy. I had, until the day before yester 
 day, indulged in a few glasses of genuine Madeira; shunning 
 all other liquors, whatsoever; but now I have given up 
 that indulgence: for my experience in 1817, proved the hurt 
 ful effects of stimuli, in any shape; and I now labour under 
 the same form of disease. I have taken, once or twice, one 
 grain of calomel, at night, and, frequently, magnesia and rhu 
 barb. I have also used alkalies, in the form of salt of tartar 
 and potashes: the latter having been recommended to me; 
 although I cannot see in what it can differ from the other. 
 Yesterday, I dined out with the speaker. I would not have 
 gone for any other " dignitary " here. I made Johnny carry 
 my clolh shoes, and a bottle of toast and water. The colour 
 deceived the company, except one or two near me, whom I 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 241 
 
 was obliged to let into the secret, to preserve my monopoly. 
 Notwithstanding all this, I am persuaded that I was the live 
 liest man in the whole company; and, like Falstaff, was not 
 only merry myself, but the cause of mirth in others. Mr. Se 
 cretary C., I think, will remember, for some time, some of 
 my rejoinders to him, half joke and three parts earnest, (as 
 Paddy says,) on the subject of the constitutional powers of 
 Congress, and some other matters of minor note although 
 he tried to turn them off with great good humour. To say 
 the truth, I have a sneaking liking for C., for " by-gone s " 
 sake; and if he had let alone being a great man, should have 
 " liked him hugely," as Squire Western hath it. 
 
 I had the pleasure to pass a very pleasant evening in George 
 town, at B s., (plim C s.,) on Thursday last. I dined with 
 Mr. and Mrs. 0., and Mr. K., of New York. After dinner, 
 Miss 0. had a small party of about half a dozen, exclusively 
 of Mrs. F., who sang for us some Scotch airs, in a very 
 pleasing style. Among others, she sang " There s nae Luck 
 aboot the House " very well, and " Auld Lang Syne. " When 
 she came to the lines 
 
 ; We twa ha e paidlet in the burn, 
 Frae morning sun till dine," 
 
 I cast my mind s eye around for such a " trusty feese," and 
 could light only on T., (who, God be praised! is here,) and 
 you may judge how we meet. During the time that Dr. B. 
 was at Walker M s. school, (from the spring of 1784, to the 
 end of 1785,) I was in Bermuda; and (although he was well 
 acquainted with both my brothers) our acquaintance did not be 
 gin until nearly twenty years afterwards. Do you know that I 
 am childish enough to regret this very sensibly? for, although 
 I cannot detract from the esteem or regard in which I hold him, 
 nor lessen the value I set upon his friendship, yet, had I known 
 him then, I think I should enjoy " Auld Lang Syne" more, 
 when I hear it sung, or hum it to myself, as I often do. 
 
 You may remember how bitter cold it was on Thursday. 
 The change took place about midnight of Tuesday. I slept 
 
 31 
 
242 LETTERS OF 
 
 the fore part of it with my window hoisted, and rose about 
 two o clock on Wednesday morning, and shut it down. Well! 
 I rode from Georgetown home, after ten o clock, without suf 
 fering, in the least, from the cold, except a little in the fingers. 
 This was neither owing to the warmth infused by Mr. O s. 
 very fine old Madeira, nor by his daughters beauty and ac 
 complishments; although either, I believe, would have kept 
 up the excitement for a longer time than it took Wildfire " to 
 glance" along "the Avenue." But, superadded to the in 
 fluence of wine, and beauty, and music, and good company, I 
 had a leathern "justicore," as old Edie would call it, (just a. 
 au-corps,} under my waistcoat which I recommend to all 
 who desire to guard against our piercing winds and cloth 
 shoes over my boots. My horsemanship was, indeed, put 
 into requisition, on meeting a rattling hackney coach, with 
 lights, driving at a furious rate. It was where " the Avenue " 
 is crossed by a gutter, and impeded by ice. Nevertheless, I 
 did what Cambey * could not do with his wretched curb-bri 
 dle and, as Simon t says, " I consequenced her with a S7iap- 
 per." My disease, which had been very troublesome for 
 some days, and particularly that morning, and which I had 
 checked, " for the nonce," with absorbents, recurred, with ten 
 fold violence, in the night. My apartment is tinwholesome- 
 ly warm, in spite of all I can safely do to ventilate it. I rise 
 before day, make up my fire, and, at clay light, raise my win 
 dows, (unless the " weather " drives in,) however cold it may 
 be. The stage-coach men return my salute every morning, 
 and I find the air quite " caller " and refreshing. 
 
 I have just got a letter from G., in Frederickburg, to whom 
 I wrote, immediately on the receipt of your penultimate. It 
 is dated yesterday, (the 26th.) He writes, " Your horse was, 
 agreeably to your expectations, delivered here on yesterday," 
 (which "on," prefixed to " yesterday," is a wretched barba 
 rism, of modern date. In poetry, I have seen " on yester 
 night; but the day was never put upon stilts, even in blank 
 
 * His overseer. | His groom. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 243 
 
 verse.) " I had anticipated your wishes as to having him well 
 shod; the shoes on him being very much worn, and one of 
 them broken. He is in pretty good condition, and, I pro 
 mise you, shall not be worsted by remaining in my stable," &c. 
 
 If you can, conveniently, send me the prices of the live 
 stock, (a list of which I enclose you,) purchased by " Mr. 
 L.," I will thank you. Return the list, or get a copy of it. 
 
 If the carriage be actually described by J. H. [" as good as 
 new, having been used only two or three times,"] and is not 
 too heavy fora pair of horses, I will buy it, if it can be had on 
 a reasonable profit to the coach maker who bought it. Dr. B. 
 will, I am sure, be good enough to look at it with you, and 
 give me his opinion about it. I want one, sur le champ, 
 sooner than 1 can have it made, and I am on the purchase of 
 a pair of boys, to replace poor old Sterling and his mate 
 Steady. Spot, I fear, is irreparably ruined, by a disease, which, 
 when of the worst type, is as incurable as the glanders, or farey. 
 I succeeded, you may remember, with poor old Rosetta, but 
 she always carried a stiff neck; but that case was treated " se- 
 cundum artem," and not in the stupid, sottish style of our 
 soi-distant farriers. 
 
 Show this long tirade of egotism to the doctor, and tell him 
 that I suspect every hack attorney in the house is to " let off" 
 a speech on the bankrupt bill; although, from the tenor of the 
 conversation, yesterday, at the speaker s table, I thank Hea 
 ven, my hopes of its defeat are greatly strengthened. 
 
 I pray you, take to Latin and French. If I were you, I 
 would learn Italian and Spanish. As I am not you, but my 
 self, I have begun the latter tongue at a more advanced age, 
 than that at which the elder Cato acquired Greek. 
 
 My love to E. You may give her yours too, if you can 
 prevail upon her to accept it. She is not "forbidden fruit." 
 Yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 I am proud of Mrs. L s. remembrance and notice. Tell 
 her so, if you please, and mention me to the C s., &c. &c., as 
 you know how I wish to be named to them. 
 
244 LETTERS OF 
 
 I trust Mrs. B. is not on the road this dreadful day. My 
 best devoirs to her. I sincerely congratulate the doctor on 
 the termination of his widowhood, and you and all her friends 
 on her restoration to the society, of which she constitutes the 
 " cynosure. " 
 
 LETTER CLXXXVIII. 
 
 Friday Morning, Feb. 1, 1822. 
 DEAR DOCTOR, 
 
 OUR old acquaintance Roanoke made his appearance 
 yesterday evening low in flesh, and otherwise much out of 
 condition. The change in him, since I left Richmond, is 
 considerably for the worse so that my charge to the young 
 man seems to have been (as I surmised it would be) com 
 pletely thrown away. He (Roanoke) left Frederickburg on 
 Monday, being rode by a Mr. L. (a very decent sort of a 
 man) on that day, as far as Dumfries, where he (L.) had left 
 his own horse. He led him from thence here, (as he told 
 me, and from his age and appearance I have no doubt of it;) 
 but, in consequence of the rain the day before yesterday, he 
 remained all that day in Alexandria. Gray, at Frederick- 
 burg, was good enough to have him well shod for me. 
 
 Tell E. that I was so near losing the mail the last time I 
 wrote to her, that, among other words, I forgot to note ex 
 traordinary, (which Walker pronounces extrordinary , and 
 well bred and well educated old-fashioned gentlemen, extra- 
 er n ry, but) which our people that want tp show their spell 
 ing, call extray ordinary. We do so emphasise, and syllabise, 
 and vociferate, that I am persuaded no well-bred man of the 
 last generation could hardly understand one of our modern 
 great men. If he did, it would be a punishment to him to 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 245 
 
 listen. But my eyes ask a holiday. I do not hear from 
 you. Bon jour. 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke? 
 
 Southern mail due at 3 o clock, A. M. Yesterday got in 
 at 7 o clock, P. M. Difference 16 hours in 120 miles! 
 
 LETTER CLXXXIX. 
 
 Saturday Morning, Feb. 22, 1822. 
 
 I SYMPATHIZE in your distress. It is one of the painful 
 circumstances incident to your profession but what avoca 
 tion is free from them ? Instead of yielding to a morbid sen 
 sibility, we must nerve ourselves up to do and to suffer all 
 that duty calls for in other words, to do our duty in that 
 station in life, " to which it has pleased God to call us." 
 What, then, are we to expect from a generation that has been 
 taught to cherish this not " fair defect " of our perverted na 
 ture; to nourish and cultivate, as " amiable and attractive," 
 what, at the bottom, is neither more nor less than the grossest 
 selfishness, a little disguised under the romantic epithet of 
 " sensibility!" This cant (worse than that of "criticism ") 
 has been fashionable since the days of Sterne, a hard-hearted, 
 unprincipled man; a cassocked libertine and "free thinker;" 
 who introduced it. Heaven be praised! it is now on the de 
 cline; and, in a little time, we may consider it, I hope, as en 
 tirely passee. Sheridan, himself, a bad principled man, gave 
 it a home blow, in the form of " sentiment!" in his very wit 
 ty, but immoral comedy. 
 
 Yesterday, (or "on yesterday," as "it is said" here,) I 
 dined out; and, although I carried (or, rather, Johnny did) 
 my bottles of toast and water, and milk, I was tortured with 
 
246 LETTERS Of 
 
 indigestion. My night has been a most wretched one, and 
 all my former symptoms seem aggravated. I will, however, 
 persevere throughout this month, at least. Indeed, I feel no 
 great difficulty in abstaining none at all, from wine, and all 
 fermented and distilled liquors. The odour of a fine fat can 
 vass-back sometimes tries my self-denial. Every other strong 
 drink but wine, is now absolutely distasteful to me, and 1 
 have no great propensity to that. Nature s indications ought, 
 I am persuaded, to be oftener attended to. Dr. B s. opinion 
 of my case was verified yesterday. Mr. Speaker B. , with the 
 best intentions in the world, set off wrong foot foremost, and, 
 unlike some other hags, could not change his feet in a long 
 and very slow heat for he made, as his brother Jemmy would 
 say, three " consecutive " decisions, each surpassing the other 
 in error, and forming a perfect climax of absurdity. As the 
 " southern speaker," I would not appeal from the first (T s. 
 of New York, motion to amend R s., by striking out 42 and 
 inserting 47.) This, finally, was disposed of by R., who 
 withdrew his motion. Then came another, " That after the 
 question was propounded by the chair, and before the clerk 
 had called, or the member at the head of the column had an 
 swered, debate was precluded!" in the teeth of common 
 sense, of his own interrogatory, always made, (" if the house 
 be ready for the question ? the clerk will proceed to call,") 
 and of the invariable practice of the body, from the time of 
 Its organization. Out of this, however, he was extricated by 
 the representation of some of his friends, in deference to 
 whose longer experience, he waived his own judgment but 
 that S. of W., after the debate had gone on, made the point 
 anew; because it answered his purpose, and he was entirely 
 reckless of the speaker s feelings and situation. Insinuations 
 were thrown out, too, by some, " of his too great pliability to 
 what they termed side-bar counsel;" (the Dowlings cannot 
 sink the pettifogger:) perhaps, too, S. of W., seeing our reluc 
 tance to appeal, thought we should submit in silence. Be that 
 as it may, the speaker reaffirmed his former opinion, and an 
 appeal was taken, by M., of Vermont, and E., of North Ca- 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 247 
 
 rolina, and the decision reversed by more than two to one. 
 It was to bolster up this opinion, that e, extra-judicially, 
 made another decision, the counterpart to Vs. famous inter 
 pretation of the sense of the previous question, where now 
 meant any indefinite future time, and on which I not only 
 obtained the laugh upon him, but he could find but eight or 
 ten to support him, in a very full house.* I likeB., because 
 he is a friend to the strict construction of the constitution; 
 and I wanted to adjourn, for his sake which, at last, we car 
 ried, about dark, (re infecta,} and he was released from his 
 embarrassments. This long sitting in the air operated on my 
 stomach as nauseating doses of antimonials would have done, 
 and I felt as if I were about to be " abolished, quite." At the 
 close of the day, your letter arrived. The southern mails are 
 now very irregular. Even the northern is not always punc 
 tual. There is a fine road now from this place to Baltimore, 
 but they have let the bridge, over the Patuxent, get out of 
 repair, as it is seldom past fording, and the ice has, on one 
 occasion, stopped the coach. 
 
 Tell E. that among some Yankee names, in a late Boston 
 paper, I came across "Miss Sybil Dow, married to Mr. Cy 
 rus Bump." Pray keep this name "for use," as Mrs. G. 
 hath it. 
 
 Show this letter to Dr. B., and to no one else. 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 To DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 If Wm. L. comes to Richmond, let me know immediately 
 on his arrival. 
 
 " My Lord Chancellor Bacon is lately dead, of a long and 
 languishing weakness. He died so poor that he scarce left 
 money to bury him, which, though he had a great wit, did 
 argue no great wisdom it being one of the properties of a 
 
 * The same members, however, provoked by G s. folly, and want of de- 
 cency, reversed their own decision, before the end of the session. 
 
248 LETTERS OF 
 
 great man to provide for the main chance. I had read that 
 it had been the fortune of all poets, commonly, to die beg 
 gars; but for an orator, a lawyer, and philosopher, as he was, 
 to die so, it is rare." Epist. Ho-Eliance Familiar letters, 
 by James Howell. 
 
 If Bacon s wonderful endowments could not cover his pro 
 digality and carelessness of money, (and the corruption which 
 grew out of that culpable negligence,) what shall we say to 
 them that possess nothing of his genius or acquirements ? 
 
 LETTER CXC. 
 
 Monday Morning, Feb. 4, 1822. 
 Five o clock. 
 
 I HAVE been up since half past one. Yesterday I dined 
 by accident with Mr. K. at the Union in Georgetown, and 
 though I had toast and water, I missed my milk. I drank, 
 too, at the earnest recommendation of some of the party, 
 some old Port wine,* which has done me no good. My 
 dinner was the lean of a very fine haunch of venison, with 
 out any gravy, and a little rice. Since it began to rain 
 (about an hour ago) I have felt as restless as a leech in a 
 weather glass, and so I sit down to write to you. On Satur 
 day I had a narrow escape from a most painful death. Wild 
 fire dashed off with me on the avenue, alarmed at a tattered 
 wagon-cover, shivering in the wind, and would have dashed 
 us both to pieces against an Italian poplar; but when she was 
 running full butt against it, and not a length off, by a violent 
 exertion of the left heel and right hand I bore her off. There 
 was not the thickness of the half quire of paper on which I 
 
 * For my complaint. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 249 
 
 am writing between my body and the tree. Had I worn a 
 great-coat, or cloth boots, I must have touched perhaps 
 been dragged off by them: and had I been without spurs, I 
 must have lost my life; for the centre of her forehead and 
 that of the body of the tree, nearly, or quite two feet in di 
 ameter, were approaching to contact. You know my great 
 liking for this exotic, which our tasteless people have stuck 
 every where about them. I shall, hereafter, dislike it more 
 than ever. In the course of my life I have encountered 
 some risks, but nothing like this. My heart was in my 
 mouth for a moment, and I felt the strongest convictions of 
 my utter demerit in the sight of God, and my heart gushed 
 out in thankfulness for his signal and providential preserva 
 tion. What, thought I, would have been my condition had 
 I then died. " As the tree falls, so it must lie." And I had 
 been but a short time before saying to a man, who tried to 
 cheat me, some very hard and bitter things. It was a poor 
 auctioneer, who had books on private sale. He attempted to 
 impose upon me in respect to some classical books of which 
 he was entirely ignorant, and I exposed his ignorance to the 
 people in the shop, many of whom were members of Con 
 gress, and no better informed than him. The danger that I 
 escaped was no injury to the speech which I made out of 
 breath, on finding, when I reached the house, that there was 
 a call for the previous question. So true is it, that of all 
 motives, religious feeling is the most powerful. 
 
 I am reading, for the second time, an admirable novel 
 called " Marriage." It is commended by the great unknown 
 in his "Legend of Montrose." I wish you would read it. 
 Perhaps it might serve to palliate some of your romantic 
 notions (for I despair of a cure) on the subject of love and 
 marriage. A man who marries a woman that he does not 
 esteem and treat kindly, is a villain: but marriage was made 
 for man; and if the woman be good-tempered, healthy, (a 
 qualification scarcely thought of now-a-days, all-important 
 as it is,) chaste, cleanly, economical, and not an absolute fool, 
 she will make him a better wife than nine out of ten deserve 
 
 32 
 
250 LETTERS OF 
 
 to have. To be sure, if to these beauty and understanding 
 be added, all the better. Neither would I quarrel with a 
 good fortune, if it has produced no ill effect on the. possessor 
 a rare case. 
 
 I was in hopes you would not let Gr. carry off E. from 
 you. That you may soon possess her, or some other fair 
 lady, is my earnest wish. The cock crows for day, I sup 
 pose; but it is yet dark, and I wish you good morning. " It 
 vanished at the crowing of the cock." Show this to Dr. B. 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 Your letter of the 2d is just received. I will not, never- 
 theless, cancel this, which I must close to save the post. 
 
 LETTER CXCI. 
 
 Washington, Tuesday, Feb. 5, 1822. 
 Sunrise. 
 
 I HAVE seldom, if ever, received a letter from you that 
 gratified me more than that of yesterday, which I had bare 
 ly time to acknowledge in two lines of postscript. Your 
 medical advice is very thankfully received, and will be fol 
 lowed, (I shall first give the milk a fair trial,) so far as my 
 own experience does not run counter to it. Your reluctance 
 , hitherto towards giving it, has more than once been noted 
 by me, and ascribed to its real cause. I have found, howe 
 ver, a valuable counsellor in our kinsman, Dr. Hall, for such 
 he is; his great grandfather, on the mother s side, being Ro 
 bert Boiling, brother to Drury Boiling, my maternal great 
 grandfather, from whom you are removed one generation far- 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 251 
 
 ther; which Drury and Robert were sons of Robert B., (of 
 the West Riding of York, Boiling Hall, near Bradford,) by 
 his second wife, Miss Slith; (his first being the grand-daugh 
 ter of Pocahontas, by whom he had one son, John, from 
 whom, by his wife, Mary Kennon, my paternal grandmother 
 sprang.) From this first marriage, descend the Boilings of 
 Chesterfield and Buckingham, in the male line; and the 
 Curies Randolphs, Flemings, Gays, Eldridges, and Murrays, 
 in the female. 
 
 As I have recommended " Marriage" to you, (the book, 
 I mean,) this digression on genealogy, and, perhaps, some 
 other coincidences, may remind you of the " very sensible 
 Miss Jacky," and her agreeable sisters. You entirely mis 
 take my mode of life: I am very rarely out of bed at nine, 
 and when I exceed that hour, it is not at " evening parties." 
 I have been at several, but rarely failed to be at home before 
 nine. Last night I was seduced, by a book, to go beyond 
 that hour, a little. Do you suppose (requiring so much rest 
 as I do) that I could rise every morning before the dawn, if 
 I sat (or, as the V. P. says, "so/," most "unhappily,") up 
 late at night? The other day I dined at the French minis 
 ter s. It was Saturday; "Mrs. De N s. night." At half 
 past seven we joined the evening visiters, and at half past 
 eight I was snug in bed. To be sure, I was politely re 
 proached, as I was going away, by the Count de Menou, (se 
 cretary of the legation,) whom I met on the staircase, and 
 since by his principal, for going away so early; but my plea 
 of weak health satisfied their jealousy. This is felt, and 
 shown, too, by all here, in the highest ranks of fashion. The 
 De N s., however, are good people. Madame is charity it 
 self. The poor will miss her when she goes away. One of 
 her sayings deserves to be written in letters of gold: " When 
 the rich are sick, they ought to be starved; but when the 
 poor are sick, they should be well fed." This is no bad me 
 dical precept. 
 
 I cannot "go" the "Cogniac." I had rather die, than 
 drink, habitually, brandy and water. Look around you, and 
 
LETTERS OF 
 
 see its ravages. Thank God, it does not possess any allure 
 ment for me. I have sometimes been the better for a little 
 brandy toddy, but I have not tasted spirits for six weeks,* or 
 more; and never shall again, but as medicine. Genuine Ma 
 deira is the only thing, except good water, that I can drink 
 with pleasure, or impunity: not always with the last; some 
 times with neither. It was the pearl ashes that I was advised 
 to use by Mr. Golden. It is, I believe, a refined potash. I 
 knew its caustic quality, which the salt of tartar also pos 
 sesses in a less degree. I substitute a weak solution of it 
 (salt of tartar) for the charcoal powder, in cleaning my teeth. 
 The pearl ashes I gave up at first trial. 
 
 Rely upon it, that to love a woman as "a mistress," al 
 though a delicious delirium, an intoxication far surpassing 
 that of Champagne, is altogether unessential, nay, perni 
 cious, in the choice of a wife; which a man ought to set 
 about in his sober senses choosing her, as Mrs. Primrose 
 did her wedding-gown, for qualities that " wear well." I 
 am well persuaded, that few love-matches are happy ones. 
 One thing, at least, is true, that if matrimony has its cares, 
 celibacy has no pleasures. A Newton, or a mere scholar, 
 may find employment in study: a man of literary taste can 
 receive in books a powerful auxiliary; but a man must have 
 a bosom friend, and children around him, to cherish and sup 
 port the dreariness of old age. Do you remember A. V.? 
 He could neither read nor think; any wife, even a scolding 
 one, would have been a blessing to that poor man. After all, 
 "suitability" is the true foundation for marriage. If the 
 parties be suited to one another, in age, situation in life, (a 
 man, indeed, may descend, where all else is fitting,) temper, 
 and constitution, these are the ingredients of a happy mar 
 riage or, at least, a convenient one which is all that peo 
 ple of experience expect. I will not quote Rochefoucault, 
 or S. Johnson, in support of this; and yet I cannot refrain 
 
 * I have not used half a pint, since I cannot tell when six months, at 
 least. 
 
JOHN RANDOLPH. 253 
 
 from referring you to five lines of the latter, which the au 
 thor has placed in the title page of "Marriage." 
 
 If my life were to go over again, I should make a very 
 different sort of thing of it, from what it is. Community of 
 tastes and pursuits, very often vicious ones, are the founda 
 tion of most youthful friendships. I was most fortunate in 
 two Rutledge and Bryan. As for Banister, he was as a 
 brother, from infancy; I could not go amiss in him. One 
 great mistake that young people commit, is associating with 
 persons of their own age, &c., but greatly above them in 
 point of fortune. One young man can, perhaps, afford to 
 spend a thousand dollars, where one hundred would embar 
 rass the finances of his companion. This last must sink into 
 a led captain, a boon companion, or sot; or, perhaps, com 
 mit forgery, or breach of trust, to keep way with the rest. 
 Archer said to me last night, "When a young man conducts 
 himself so as to be forced to borrow from his companions, 
 his independence and self-respect are gone." It is true. 
 
 At last, a letter from Barksdale. It came with John 
 son s, about five minutes ago. He writes "There is a 
 general movement in the neighbourhood: Everard Meade 
 goes to the Falls of the Black Warrior; Banister, after wa 
 vering some time, between Norfolk and Winchester, has, 
 at length, decided in favour of Petersburg; and the Eg- 
 glestons and Archers, some to Kentucky and others to 
 Florida." He, too, is about to sell out, and remove. He 
 dates, the 1st of February. Mrs. R., of Obslo, is not now 
 despaired of. By this time, if not before, you must be heart 
 ily tired. Roanoke begins to look alive. In a month, or 
 two, he may be fit to ride. When I " lent " him, he was 
 seal fat, and in the highest condition. The little mare, (in 
 like order,) had just been used up by the same person. 
 Yours, 
 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
254 LETTERS OF 
 
 LETTER CXCII. 
 
 Monday, Feb. 11, 1822. 
 
 THE southern mail is late to-day: it is half past two, and 
 your letter, enclosed herein, is just "received. I must re 
 quest that my last to you be not put out of your possession. 
 So much of it as is extracted from that to Mrs. Crocket, 
 which I declined to send, you can extract and send her, but 
 no more. It is marked, I think, with inverted commas. Or, 
 if you enclose it to me, I will make the proper extract, and 
 send it to you, together with the letter itself I mean mine 
 to you. 
 
 That to which I referred, as having been written on the 
 same morning, I have recovered, and retain. 
 
 I am very sorry to learn that E. is so seriously indisposed. 
 I fear she will go the way of her poor sister. My love to 
 her, when you see her. I am myself worn down, and have 
 suffered unutterably during the last twenty hours. Adieu! 
 JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
 
 DR. DUDLEY. 
 
 THE END. 
 
ERRATA. 
 
 57, fine 3, for "shortening," read shooting. 
 73, rt 7, for "flash," read flask. 
 79, " 23, for " Staunton," read Stenton. 
 81, " 11, from bottom, for" tente," read knit. 
 109, " 6, for "cases," read cares. 
 190, " 11, for "Torbisond," read Trebisond. 
 
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