ccumulate wealth for my children, but to
cultivate their minds in the best possible manner, and to imbue them
with correct moral, political, and religious principles,--believing that
a person thus educated will with proper diligence be certain of
attaining all the wealth which is necessary to happiness. With regard to
your spending a year at Cambridge, I have always thought it might be
beneficial; and if my health should not be impaired and my finances
should allow, I should be very happy to gratify you.... In the
'Advertiser' of the 18th, I observe some poetry from the 'U. S. Literary
Gazette,' which from the signature, I presume to be from your pen. It is
a very pretty production, and I read it with pleasure. But you will
observe that the second line of the sixth verse has too many feet.
'Beneath the dark and motionless beech.' I think it would be improved by
substituting _lonely_ for _motionless_. I suggest this for your
consideration. I have the pleasure of hearing frequently from home. They
complain that they have not heard a word from you since you left. This
is unpardonable."

On January 24, 1825, the son wrote to his father again:--

"From the general tenor of your last letter it seems to be your fixed
desire that I should choose the profession of the law for the business
of my life. I am very much rejoiced that you accede so readily to my
proposition of studying general literature for one year at Cambridge. My
grand object in doing this will be to gain as perfect a knowledge of the
French and Italian languages as can be gained without travelling in
France and Italy,--though, to tell the truth, I intend to visit both
before I die.... I am afraid you begin to think me rather chimerical in
many of my ideas, and that I am ambitious of becoming a '_rara avis in
terris_.' But you must acknowledge the usefulness of aiming high,--at
something which it is impossible to overshoot--perhaps to reach. The
fact is, I have a most voracious appetite for knowledge. To its
acquisition I will sacrifice everything.... Nothing delights me more
than reading and writing. And nothing could induce me to relinquish the
pleasures of literature, little as I have yet tasted them. Of the three
professions I should prefer the law. I am far from being a fluent
speaker, but practice must serve as a talisman where talent is wanting.
I can be a lawyer. This will support my real existence, literature an
_ideal_ one.

"I purchased last evening