Letters of John Randolph, to a young relative :: :: University of Virginia Library

I consider myself under obligations to you that I can never
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 by 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

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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[2] by which you are afflicted, and
which affects the mind and temper, as well as the animal faculties.
In your principles I have as unbounded confidence
as I have in those of any man on earth. Your disinterestedness,
integrity, and truth, would extort my esteem and respect,
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 desert,
where you have no society such as your time of life, habits,
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 reproof
upon you. Recollect my past life.

JOHN RANDOLPH.

[1]

This letter was written during 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 previously,
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 required
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 better 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.

[2]

Possibly, hypochondriasis.