LETTER XXXIII.
I am about to leave you once more, my dear boys,
with sensations of regret that I know not how to describe.
You, however, I 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 bickerings
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
steady application, all hopes of your future advancement
depend. Your hours of study must be fixed, and not broken
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 actions
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 yourselves
and to each other, and, in the course of your journey
through life, you will find more aid and comfort in the friendship
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.
