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 estranged
from those objects to which they ought to be almost
exclusively directed. Do you know from what circumstances
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 beseech
you, to acquire a minute knowledge of English history,
especially since the accession of the House of Stuart.
Next take up Robertson's Scotland, which, with more propriety,
might be entitled his history of Mary. The life of
Charles V., by the same author, and Russell's Modern Europe,
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 modern
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, Cæsar or Telemachus,
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 dictionary.
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 affectionate
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 them, "near
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 prevail
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 communications.
What have
I to write about, more than yourself?
What portion of this letter consists of narrative of
facts.
