Nov. 2, 1792.
Dear Sir,
I thank you for your information on the two Latin words, and am persuaded you are perfectly right: Xenophon might be so too, in his solution of the Spartan permission of robbery. As he was very sensible, it is no wonder he tried to explain so seemingly gross a contradiction, as an allowance of theft, where there was a community of property.
But, to say the truth, I little regard the assertions of most ancient authors, especially in their accounts of other countries than their own; and even about their own, I do not give them implicit credit. They dealt little in the spirit of criticism, information was difficult to be obtained, nor did they pique themselves on accuracy, but set down whatever they heard, without examination. With many of the contrary advantages, how little historic truth is to be gleaned even now!
I wish the report of the delivery of the King and Queen of France were not still unauthenticated. One did wish to believe it, not only for their sakes, but as some excuse for the otherwise inexplicable conduct of the King of Prussia.—He still wants a Xenophon; so do the Austrians too, who, with four times his numbers, do not make quite so sagacious a retreat.
... Vain-glory shall not be one of my last acts. Visions I have certainly had, but they have been amply dispelled. I have seen a noble seat built by a very wise man, who thought he had reason to expect it would remain to his posterity, as long as human foundations do in the ordinary course of things; alas! Sir, I have lived to be the last of that posterity, and to see the glorious collection of pictures, that were the principal ornaments of the house, gone to the North Pole, and to have the house remaining, half a ruin, on my hands.
Forgive me, dear Sir, for dwelling so long on this article; not too long for my gratitude, which is perfect, but perhaps too full on my own sentiments. But how could I do otherwise than open my mind to so obliging a friend, from whom I cannot conceal weaknesses, to which both my nature and my age have made me liable? But they have not numbed my sensibility; and, while I do exist, I shall be,
Dear Sir,
Your most obliged, &c.
⸺.