University of Virginia Library

LETTER XLIII.

Your letter (of the 20th, if I mistake not,) was received
last night. You speak of not hearing from me, not recollecting
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 translating

it, and I will compare it with its counterpart, in English,
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 containing
the newspapers are not folded by me, but by a servant
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 paper,
as well as occupying less space. For my crooked lines,
I must plead that I write in a crowd, and on a surface somewhat
convex. These little circumstances, as they may appear
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.

Translation from the Persian.—By Sir Wm. Jones.

Show the above to your cousin. My love to Sally.