I am here completely _hors du monde_. My neighbor Clark, with whom I have made a violent effort to establish an intercourse, has been here _twice by invitation_. W. Leigh as often, on his way to court, and on Saturday I was agreeably surprised by stumbling on Frank Gilmer, who was wandering to and fro in the woods, seeking my cabin. He left me on Tuesday for his brother's in Henry. Except my standing dish, you have my whole society for _nine weeks_. On the terms by which I hold it, life is a curse, from which I would willingly escape, if I _knew where to fly_. I have lost my relish for reading—indeed I could not devour even the Corsair[3] with the zest that Lord Byron's pen generally inspires. My plantation affairs always irksome are now revolting. I have lost ¾ of the finest and largest crop I ever had. [Footnote 3: It is very inferior to the Giaour or the Bride. The character of Conrad is unnatural. Blessed with his mistress, he has no motive for desperation.] My best respects and regards to Mrs. B. I am as ever, yours, JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. Dr. Dudley is (as you may suppose) a treasure to me above all price. Without him what should I do? He desires his respects to you both. As to an English constitution for France, they will have one when they all speak the English language, and not before. Have you read Morris's oration on the 29th of June? His description of Bonaparte's “taking money for his crown” is very fine. It is a picture. I see him. There are some cuts in the same page that our _fulminating_ statesman will not like. SUNDAY, the 17th. I am compelled to be at Prince Edward Court tomorrow, and the weather is _now_ so intensely hot that I shall go a part of the way this afternoon, and put my letter in the Farmville P. O. whence it will go direct to Richmond, instead of waiting five days on the road. Our crops lately drowned, are now burning up, and I begin to feel the effects of the fresh in my _health_ as well as my purse. Dudley and myself have both experienced the ill consequences of our daily visits to the low grounds. The negroes, however, continue healthy: out of more than 200, not a patient since I came home. Who is it that says “il-y-a tant de plaisir à bavarder avec un ami!” Perhaps you will reply that the pleasure is not so great _etre bavardè_. * * * * * At Charlotte Court House yesterday, I saw Dr. Merry, who told me that your trip to the Springs was postponed. Pray let me hear from you. If you write by Saturday morning's post, address your letter to this place—otherwise, to Roanoke. We hear that you are in great consternation at Richmond, in consequence of Cochrane's appearance in the Chesapeake. Not a week ago it was ostentatiously announced that Porter was master of the South Pacific! The mail will arrive in less than half an hour, which brings the official account of his capture.