University of Virginia Library

LETTER CLXXXIII.

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 intercourse
with the person referred to by both of us. His
character—long equivocal—has, at last, become openly infamous.
He has been reduced in his circumstances, not by
mere negative qualities, or a false, but more pardonable humanity
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 discreditable
to any that keep it. I have carefully shunned all
intercourse with him for years. I was long before shy, notwithstanding
his professions, &c. &c. Noscitur è 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 unworthy
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,

the wife of his bosom, and the children of his loins, into misery
and want, rather than forego the momentary gratification
of appetite, vanity, or laziness. I have come to this conclusion
slowly and painfully, but certainly. Of the Shylocks,
and the smooth-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 spendthrift.

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 whether
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!