Note 130 — Chapter XLI

The young man alluded to was the late George Washington Parke Custis, of Arlington House, Virginia, who lived to become the last surviving executor of Washington's will, and who died at his seat, on the tenth of October, 1857, when in the seventy-seventh year of his age. Mr. Custis prepared for the press a series of articles concerning the public and private life of his foster-father, which the present writer arranged, annotated, and published, under the title of “Recollections and Private Memoirs of Washington, by his Adopted Son.” In that work is given a series of letters, composing portions of a correspondence between Washington and young Custis, during the period when the latter was in college, first at Princeton, in New Jersey, and then at Annapolis, in Maryland. From Washington's letters the following extracts have been taken, to show the parental solicitude which he felt for this talented but somewhat wayward boy, who was the idol of his grandmother, Mrs. Washington:—

“Philadelphia, 15th November, 1796.

“Dear Washington: Yesterday's mail brought me your letter of the twelfth instant, and under cover of this letter you will receive a ten dollar bill, to purchase a gown, &c., if proper. But as the classes may be distinguished by a different insignia, I advise you not to provide these without first obtaining the approbation of your tutors; otherwise you may be distinguished more by folly than by the dress.

“It affords me pleasure to hear that you are agreeably fixed; and I receive still more from the assurance you give of attending closely to your studies. It is you yourself who is to derive immediate benefit from these. Your country may do it hereafter. The more knowledge you acquire, the greater will be the probability of your succeeding in both, and the greater will be your thirst for more.

“I rejoice to hear you went through your examination with propriety, and have no doubt but that the president has placed you in the class which he conceived best adapted to the present state of your improvement. The more there are above you, the greater your exertions should be to ascend; but let your promotion result from your own application, and from intrinsic merit, not from the labors of others. The last would prove fallacious, and expose you to the reproach of the daw in borrowed feathers. This would be inexcusable in you, because there is no occasion for it, forasmuch as you need nothing but the exertion of the talents you possess, with proper directions, to acquire all that is necessary; and the hours allotted for study, if properly improved, will enable you to do this. Although the confinement may feel irksome at first, the advantages resulting from it, to a reflecting mind, will soon overcome it.

“Endeavor to conciliate the good will of all your fellow-students, rendering them every act of kindness in your power. Be particularly obliging and attentive to your chamber-mate, Mr. Forsyth; who, from the account I have of him, is an admirable young man, and strongly impressed with the importance of a liberal and finished education. But, above all, be obedient to your tutors, and in a particular manner respect the president of the seminary, who is both learned and good.

“For any particular advantages you may derive from the attention and aid of Mr. Forsyth, I shall have a disposition to reward. One thing more, and I will close this letter. Never let an indigent person ask, without receiving something, if you have the means; always recollecting in what light the widow's mite was viewed.”

“Philadelphia, Nov. 28, 1796.

“The assurances you give me of applying diligently to your studies, and fulfilling those obligations which are enjoined by your Creator and due to his creatures, are highly pleasing and satisfactory to me. I rejoice in it on two accounts: first, as it is the sure means of laying the foundation of your own happiness, and rendering you, if it should please God to spare your life, a useful member of society hereafter: and, secondly, that I may, if I live to enjoy the pleasure, reflect that I have been, in some degree, instrumental in effecting these purposes.

“You are now extending into that stage of life when good or bad habits are formed; when the mind will be turned to things useful and praiseworthy, or to dissipation and vice. Fix on whichever it may, it will stick by you; for you know it has been said, and truly, that 'as the twig is bent so it will grow.' This, in a strong point of view, shows the propriety of letting your inexperience be directed by maturer advice, and in placing guard upon the avenues which lead to idleness and vice. The latter will approach like a thief, working upon your passions—encouraged, perhaps, by bad examples—the propensity to which will increase in proportion to the practice of it, and your yielding. This admonition proceeds from the purest affection for you; but I do not mean by it that you are to become a stoic, or to deprive yourself, in the intervals of study, of any recreations or manly exercise which reason approves.

“'Tis well to be on good terms with all your fellow-students, and I am pleased to hear you are so; but while a courteous behavior is due to all, select the most deserving only for your friendships, and, before this becomes intimate, weigh their dispositions and character well. True friendship is a plant of slow growth; to be sincere, there must be a congeniality of temper and pursuits. Virtue and vice can not be allied; nor can idleness and industry. Of course, if you resolve to adhere to the two former of these extremes, an intimacy with those who incline to the latter of them would be extremely embarrassing to you: it would be a stumbling-block in your way, and act like a millstone hung to your neck, for it is the nature of idleness and vice to obtain as many votaries as they can.

“I would guard you, too, against imbibing hasty and unfavorable impressions of any one. Let your judgment always balance well before you decide; and even then, where there is no occasion for expressing an opinion, it is best to be silent, for there is nothing more certain than that it is at all times more easy to make enemies than friends. And besides, to speak evil of any one, unless there are unequivocal proofs of their deserving it, is an injury for which there is no adequate reparation. For, as Shakespeare says, 'He that robs me of my good name enriches not himself, but renders me poor indeed,' or words to that effect. Keep in mind that scarcely any change would be agreeable to you at first, from the sudden transition, and from never having been accustomed to shift or rough it; and, moreover, that if you meet with collegiate fare, it will be unmanly to complain. My paper reminds me it is time to conclude.”

“Mount Vernon, 4th June, 1797.

“Your letter of the twenty-ninth ultimo came to hand by the post of Friday, and eased my mind of many unpleasant sensations and reflections on your account. It has, indeed, done more—it has filled it with pleasure more easy to be conceived than expressed; and if your sorrow and repentance for the disquietude occasioned by the preceding letter—your resolution to abandon the ideas which were therein expressed—are sincere, I shall not only heartily forgive, but will forget also, and bury in oblivion all that has passed....

“You must not suffer the resolution you have recently entered into, to operate as the mere result of a momentary impulse, occasioned by the letters you have received from hence. This resolution should be founded on sober reflection, and a thorough conviction of your error; otherwise it will be as wavering as the wind, and become the sport of conflicting passions, which will occasion such a lassitude in your exertions as to render your studies of little avail. To insure permanency, think seriously of the advantages which are to be derived, on the one hand, from the steady pursuit of a course of study to be marked out by your preceptor, whose judgment, experience, and acknowledged abilities, enables him to direct them; and, on the other hand, revolve as seriously on the consequences which would inevitably result from an indisposition to this measure, or from an idle habit of hankering after unprofitable amusements at your time of life, before you have acquired that knowledge which would be found beneficial in every situation—I say before, because it is not my wish that, having gone through the essentials, you should be deprived of any rational amusement afterward; or, lastly, from dissipation in such company as you would most likely meet under such circumstances, who but too often mistake ribaldry for wit, and rioting, swearing, intoxication, and gambling, for manliness.”

Young Custis was placed in the college at Annapolis in the spring of 1798, when Washington wrote to Mr. M'Dowell, the president, as follows:—

“Mr. Custis possesses competent talents to fit him for any studies, but they are counteracted by an indolence of mind which renders it difficult to draw them into action. Doctor Stuart having been an attentive observer of this, I shall refer you to him for the development of the causes, while justice from me requires I should add, that I know of no vice to which this inertness can be attributed. From drinking and gaming he is perfectly free; and if he has a propensity to any other impropriety, it is hidden from me. He is generous, and regardful of truth.

“As his family, fortune, and talents (if the latter can be improved), give him just pretensions to become a useful member of society in the councils of his country, his friends, and none more than myself, are extremely desirous that his education should be liberal, polished, and suitable for this end.”

Young Custis did not remain long at Annapolis. He was now eighteen years of age, and his mind was filled with visions of military glory. He received the appointment of cornet of horse, early in January, 1799, and was soon afterward promoted to the position of aid-de-camp to General Pinckney. As the army was not called to the field, he remained at Mount Vernon, awaiting orders. Meanwhile, Washington endeavored to keep him engaged in his studies, but with little success, as appears by the following extract from a letter to Doctor Stuart, young Custis's stepfather, written on the twenty-second of January, 1799, soon after the cornet received his appointment:—

“Dear Sir: Washington leaves this to-day on a visit to Hope Park, which will afford you an opportunity to examine the progress he has made in the studies he was directed to pursue.

“I can, and I believe I do, keep him in his room a certain portion of the twenty-four hours, but it will be impossible for me to make him attend to his books if inclination on his part is wanting; nor, while I am out, if he chooses to be so, is it in my power to prevent it. I will not say this is the case, nor will I run the hazard of doing him injustice, by saying he does not apply as he ought to what has been prescribed; but no risk will be run, and candor requires I should declare it as my opinion that he will not derive much benefit in any course which can be marked out for him at this place, without an able preceptor always with him. I believe Washington means well, but has not resolution to act well.”

For the entire correspondence alluded to, and a vast amount of information concerning the private life of Washington, the reader is referred to Custis's Recollections and Private Memoirs of the Father of his Country.