Letter I.

An unusual sensation possesses my
breast; a sensation, which I once thought
could never pervade it on any occasion whatever.
It is pleasure; pleasure, my dear Lucy,
on leaving my paternal roof! Could you have
believed that the darling child of an indulgent
and dearly beloved mother would feel a gleam
of joy at leaving her? but so it is. The melancholy,
the gloom, the condolences, which surrounded
me for a month after the death of
Mr. Haly, had depressed my spirits, and pall[Gap in transcription—2–3 charactersflawed-reproduction]
every enjoyment of life. Mr. Haly was a man
of worth; a man of real substantial meri[Gap in transcription—2–3 charactersobscured]
He is therefore deeply, and justly regreted by
his friends; he was chosen to be a future guardian,B2 ian, B3v 6
and companion for me, and was, therefore,
beloved by mine. As their choice; as a good
man, and a faithful friend, I esteemed him. But
no one acquainted with the disparity of our
tempers and dispositions, our views and designs,
can suppose my heart much engaged in
the alliance. Both nature and education had
instilled into my mind an implicit obedience to
the will and desires of my parents. To them,
of course, I sacrificed my fancy in this affair;
determined that my reason should conncur with
theirs; and on that to risk my future happiness.
I was the more encouraged, as I saw, from our
first acquaintance, his declining health; and
expected, that the event would prove as it has.
Think not, however, that I rejoice in his death.
No; far be it from me; for though I believe
that I never felt the passion of love for Mr.
Haly; yet a habit of conversing with him,
of hearing daily the most virtuous, tender,
and affectionate sentiments from his lips, inspired
emotions of the sincerest friendship, and
esteem.

He is gone. His fate is unalterably, and I
trust, happily fixed. He lived the life, and died
the death of the righteous. O that my last
end may be like his! This event will, I hope,
make a suitable and abiding impression upon
my mind; teach me the fading nature of all
sublunary enjoyments, and the little dependence
which is to be placed on earthly felicity.
Whose situation was more agreeable; whose prospects B4r 7
prospects more flattering, than Mr. Haly’s?
Social, domestic, and connubial joys were
fondly anticipated, and friends, and fortune
seemed ready to crown every wish! Yet animated
by still brighter hopes, he cheerfully bid
them all adieu. In conversation with me, but
a few days before his exit; “There is” said
he, “but one link in the chain of life, undissevered;
that, my dear Eliza, is my attachment
to you. But God is wise and good in all
his ways; and in this, as in all other respects,
I would cheerfully say, His will be done.”

You, my friend, were witness to the concluding
scene; and therefore, I need not describe
it.

I shall only add, on the subject, that if I have
wisdom and prudence to follow his advice and
example; if his prayers for my temporal and
eternal welfare be heard and answered, I shall
be happy indeed

The disposition of mind, which I now feel,
I wish to cultivate. Calm, placid, and serene;
thoughtful of my duty, and benevolent to all
around me, wish for no other connection than
that friendship,

This Letter is all egotism, I have even neglected
to mention the respectable, and happy
friends, with whom I reside; but will do it in
my next. Write soon, and often; and believe
me sincerely yours,

Letter II.

Time, which effaces every occasional
impression, I find gradually dispelling the pleasing
pensiveness, which the melancholy event,
the subject of my last, had diffused over my
mind. Naturally cheerful, volatile, and unreflecting,
the opposite disposition, I have found
to contain sources of enjoyment, which I was
before unconscious of possessing.

My friends, here, are the picture of conjugal
felicity. The situation is delightful. The visiting
parties perfectly agreeable. Every thing
tends to facilitate the return of my accustomed
vivacity. I have written to my mother, and
received an answer. She praises my fortitude,
and admires the philosophy which I have exerted,
under, what she calls, my heavy bereavement.
Poor woman! She little thinks that
my heart was untouched; and when that is
my heart was untouched; and when that is
unaffected, other sentiments and passions make
but a transient impression. I have been, for a
month or two, excluded from the gay world;
and, indeed, fancied myself soaring above it.
It is now that I begin to descend, and find my natural B5r 9
natural propensity for mixing in the busy scenes
and active pleasures of life returning. I have
received your letter; your moral lecture rather;
and be assured, my dear, your monitorial
lessons and advice shall be attended to. I believe
I shall never again resume those airs,
which you term coquettish, but which I think
deserve a softer appellation; as they proceed
from an innocent heart, and are the effusions
of a youthful, and cheerful mind. We are all
envited to spend the day, to morrow, at Col.
Farington’s, who has an elegant seat in his
neighborhood. Both he and his Lady are
strangers to me; but the friends, by whom I
am introduced, will procure me a welcome reception.
Adieu.

Letter III.

Is it time for me to talk again of conquests?
or must I only enjoy them in silence?
I must write to you the impulses of my mind;
or I must not write at all. You are no so
morose, as to wish me to become a nun, would our B5v 10
our country, and religion allow it. I ventured
yesterday to throw aside the habiliments
of mourning, and to array myself in
those more adapted to my taste. We arrived at
Col. Farington’s about one o’clock. The
Col. handed me out of the carriage, and introduced
me to a large company assembled in
the Hall. My name was pronounced with an
emphasis; and I was received with the most
flattering tokens of respect. When we were
summoned to dinner, a young gentleman in a
clerical dress offered me his hand, and led
me to a table furnished with an elegant, and
sumptuous repast, with more gallantry, and
address than commonly fall to the share of
students. He sat opposite of me at table; and
whenever I raised my eye, it caught his. The
ease, and politeness of his manners, with his
particular attention to me, raised my curiosity,
and induced me to ask Mrs. Laiton who he
was? She told me that his name was Boyer;
that he was descended from a worthy family;
had passed with honor and applause through
the university where he was educated; had
since studied divinity with success; and now
had a call to settle as a minister in one of the
first parishes in a neighbouring state.

The gates of a spacious garden were thrown
open, at this instant; and I accepted with avidity
an invitation to walk in it. Mirth, and hilarity
prevailed, and the moments fled on downy
wings; while we traced the beauties of art

Letter IV.

You ask me, my friend, whether
I am in pursuit of truth, or a lady? I
answer, both. I hope and trust they are
united; and really expect to find truth and the
virtues and graces besides in a fair form. If
you mean by the first part of your question,
whether I am searching into the sublimer doctrines
of religion? To these I would by no
means be inattentive; but to be honest, my
studies of that kind have been very much interrupted
of late. The respectable circle of acquaintances
with which I am honored here, has
rendered my visits very frequent and numerous.
In one of these I was introduced to Miss
Eliza Wharton; a young lady whose elegant
person, accomplished mind, and polished manners
have been much celebrated. Her frame has
often reached me; but, as the queen of Sheba
said to Solomon, the half was not told me.
You will think, that I talk in the style of a lover.
I confess it, nor am I ashamed to rank myself
among the professed admirers of this lovely
fair one. I am in no danger, however, of becomingB coming 2B1v 14
an enthusiastic devotee. No, I mean to
act upon just and rational principles. Expecting
soon to settle in an eligible situation, if such
a companion as I am persuaded she will make
me, may fall to my lot, I shall deem myself as happy
as this state of imperfection will admit. She
is now resident at Gen. Richman’s. The general
and his lady are her particular friends.
They are warm in her praises. They tell me,
however, that she is naturally of a gay disposition.
No matter for that; it is an agreeable
quality, where there is discretion sufficient for
its regulation. A cheerful friend, much more
a cheerful wife is peculiarly necessary to a person
or a studious and sedentary life. They dispel
the gloom of retirement, and exhilerate
the spirits depressed by intense application.
She was formerly addressed by the late Mr.
Haly of Boston. He was not, it seems, the man
of her choice; but her parents were extremely
partial to him, and wished the connection to
take place, she, like a dutiful child, sacrificed
her own[Gap in transcription—12–13 charactersflawed-reproduction] their pleasure, so far as
to ac[Gap in transcription—6–7 charactersflawed-reproduction]in his visits. This she more easily
accomplished, as his health, which declined
from their first acquaintance, led her to suppose,
as the event has passed, that he would not live
to enter[Gap in transcription—3–4 charactersflawed-reproduction] any hasting engagements. Her,
father who died some months before him,[Gap in transcription—2–3 charactersflawed-reproduction]
whe[Gap in transcription—8–9 charactersflawed-reproduction]confide at his house, for the[Gap in transcription—4–5 charactersflawed-reproduction]
of a[Gap in transcription—5–6 charactersflawed-reproduction] of air, agreeably to the advice [Gap in transcription—1–2 charactersflawed-reproduction]
[Gap in transcription—10–11 charactersflawed-reproduction]. She attended him during [Gap in transcription—2–3 charactersflawed-reproduction] last 2B2r 15
last illness, with all the care and assiduity of a
nurse; and with all the sympathising tenderness
of a sister.

I have had several opportunities of conversing
with her. She discovers an elevated mind,
a ready apprehension, and an accurate knowledge
of the various subjects which have been
brought into view. I have not yet introduced the
favorite subject of my heart. Indeed she seems
studiously to avoid noticing any expression which
leads towards it. But she must hear it soon. I
am sure of the favor and interest of the friends
with whom she resides. They have promised to
speak previously in my behalf. I am to call as
if accidentally this afternoon, just as they are
to ride abroad. They are to refer me to Miss
Wharton for entertainment, till their return.
What a delightful opportunity for my purpose!
I am counting the hours, nay, the very moments.
Adieu. You shall soon hear again from your
most obedient,

Letter V.

These bewitching charms of mine
have a tendency to keep my mind in a state of
perturbation. I am so pestered with these admirers;
not that I am so very handsome neither;
but I don’t know how it is, I am certainly
very much the taste of the other sex. Followed,
flattered, and caressed; I have cards and
compliments in profusion. But I must try to
be serious; for I have, alas! one serious lover.
As I promised you to be particular in my writing,
I suppose I must proceed methodically.
Yesterday we had a party to dine. Mr. Boyer
was of the number. His attention was immediately
engrossed; and I soon perceived that
every word, every action, and every look was
studied to gain my approbation. As he sat
next me at dinner, his assiduity and politeness
were pleasing; and as we walked together afterwards,
his conversation was improving. Mine
was sentimental and sedate; perfectly adapted
to the taste of my gallant. Nothing, however,
was said particularly expressive of his apparent
wishes. I studiously avoided every kind of discoursecourse 2B3r 17
which might lead to this topic. I wish
not for a declaration from any one, especially
from one whom I could not repulse and do
not intend to encourage at present. His conversation,
so similar to what I had often heard
from a similar character, brought a deceased
friend to mind, and rendered me somewhat pensive.
I retired directly after supper. Mr. Boyer
had just taken leave.

Mrs. Richman came into my chamber as
she was passing to her own. “Excuse my intrusion,
Eliza” said she; “I thought I would just step
in and ask if you have passed a pleasant day?”

“Perfectly so, madam; and I have now retired
to protract the enjoyment by recollection.”
“What, my dear, is your opinion of our favorite
Mr. Boyer?” “Declaring him your favorite,
madam, is sufficient to render me partial to him.
But to be frank, independent of that, I think
him an agreeable man.” “Your heart, I presume,
is now free?” “Yes, and I hope it
will long remain so.” “Your friends, my dear,
solicitous for your welfare, wish to see you suitably
and agreeably connected.” “I hope my
friends will never again interpose in my concerns
of that nature. You, madam, who
have ever known my heart, are sensible, that had
the Almighty spared life, in a certain instance,
I must have sacrificed my own happiness, or incurred
their censure. I am young, gay, volatile.
A melancholy event has lately extricated
the from those shackles, which parental authorityB2 ity 2B3v 18
had imposed on my mind. Let me then
enjoy that freedom which I so highly prize. Let
me have opportunity, unbiassed by opinion, to
gratify my natural disposition in a participation
of those pleasures which youth and innocence
afford.” “Of such pleasures, no one, my dear,
would wish to deprive you. But beware, Eliza!
—Though strowed with flowers, when contemplated
by your lively imagination, it is, after
all, a slippery, thorny pather. The round of fashionable
dissipation is dangerous. A phantom
is often pursued, which leaves its deluded
votary the real form of wretchedness.” She
spoke with an emphasis, and taking up her
candle, wished me a good night. I had not
power to return the compliment. Something
seemingly prophetic in her looks and expressions,
cast a momentary gloom upon my mind!
But I despise those contracted ideas which confine
virtue to a cell. I have no notion of becoming
a recluse. Mrs. Richman has ever
been a beloved friend of mine; yet I always
thought her rather prudish. Adieu,

Letter VI.

I had scarcely seated myself at the
breakfast table this morning, when a servant
entered with a card of invitation from Major
Sanford, requesting the happiness of my hand
this evening, at the ball, given by Mr. Atkins,
about three miles from this. I shewed the billet
to Mrs. Richman, saying, “I have not much
acquaintance with this gentleman, madam; but
I suppose his character sufficiently respectable to
warrant an affirmative answer. He is a gay
man, my dear, to say no more, and such are the
companions we wish, when we join a party avowedly
formed for pleasure.” I then stepped
into my apartment, wrote an answer, and dispatched
the servant. When I returned to the
parlour, something disapprobating appeared in
the countenances of both my friends. I endeavored
without seeming to observe, to dissipate it
by chit chat; but they were better pleased with
each other than with me; and soon rising,
walked into the garden, and left me to amuse
myself alone. My eyes followed them through
the window. Happy pair, said I. Should it ever 2B4v 20
ever be my fate to wear the hymenial chain,
may I be thus united! The purest and most ardent
affection, the greatest consonance of taste
and disposition, and the most congenial virtue
and wishes distinguish this lovely couple. Health
and wealth, with every attendant blessing preside
over their favored dwelling, and shed their
benign influence without alloy. The consciousness
of exciting their displeasure gave me pain;
but I consoled myself with the idea that it was
ill founded.

“They should consider”, said I, “that they have
no satisfaction to look for beyond each other.”

There every enjoyment is center; but I
am a poor solitary being, who need some amusement
beyond what I can supply myself. The
mind, after being confined at home for a while,
sends the imagination abroad in quest of new
treasures, and the body may as well accompany
it, for ought I can see.

General Richman and lady have ever appeared
solicitous to promote my happiness
since I have resided with them. They have urged
my acceptance of invitations to join parties,
though they have not been much themselves,
of late; as Mrs. Richman’s present circumstances
render her fond retirement. What
reason can be assigned for their apparent reluctance
to this evening’s entertainment is [Gap in transcription—1–2 charactersflawed-reproduction]
me incomprehensible; but I shall apply th[Gap in transcription—1–2 charactersflawed-reproduction]
chymical powers of friendship, and extract [Gap in transcription—2–3 charactersflawed-reproduction]
secret from Mrs. Richman to morrow if not before 2B5r 21
before. Adieu. I am now summoned to dinner,
and after that shall be engaged in preparation
till the wished for hour of hilarity and
mirth engrosses every faculty of your

Letter VII.

Divines need not declaim, nor philosophers
expatiate on the disappointments of
human life! Are they not legibly written on every
page of our existence? Are they not predominantly
prevalent over every period of our lives?

When I closed my last letter to you, my heart
exulted in the pleasing anticipation of promised
bliss; my wishes danced on the light breezes of
hope, and my imagination dared to arrest the
attention, and even claim a return of affection
from the lovely Eliza Wharton! But imagination
only, it has proved; and that dashed with
the bitter ranklings of jealousy and suspicion.

But to resume my narrative. I reached the
mansion of my friend about four. I was disagreeably
struck with the appearance of a carriageage 2B5v 22
at the door, as it raised an idea of company
which might frustrate my plan; but still more
disagreeable were my sensations, when on entering
the parlour, I found Major Sanford evidently
in a waiting posture. I was very politely
received; and when Eliza entered the room
with a brilliance of appearance and gaiety of
manner, which I had never before connected
with her character, I rose, as did Major Sanford
who offered his hand, and led her to a chair.
I forgot to sit down again, but stood transfixed
by the pangs of disappointment. Miss Wharton
appeared somewhat confused; but soon resuming
her vivacity, desired me to be seated;
inquired after my health, and made some common
place remarks on the weather. Then apologizing
for leaving me, gave her hand again
to Major Sanford, who had previously risen, and
reminded her that the time and their engagements
made it necessary to leave the good company;
which, indeed, they both appeared very
willing to do. General Richman and lady took
every method in their power to remove my chagrin,
and atone for the absence of my fair one,
but ill did they succeed. They told me that
Miss Wharton had not the most distant idea of
my visiting there, this afternoon; much less of
the design of my visit; that for some mon[Gap in transcription—2–3 charactersflawed-reproduction]
together, she had been lately confined by [Gap in transcription—3–4 charactersflawed-reproduction]
sickness of Mr. Haly, whom she attended during
the whole of his last illness; which con[Gap in transcription—3–4 charactersflawed-reproduction]
ment had eventually increased her desire of indulging dulging 2B6r 23
her natural disposition for gaiety. She
had, however, they said, “an excellent heart and
reflecting mind, a great share of sensibility, and
a temper peculiarly formed for the enjoyments
of social life.” “But this gentleman, madam, who
is her gallant this evening—is his character
inexceptionable? Will a lady of delicacy associate
with an immoral, not to say profligate
man? The rank and fortune of Major Sanford,
said Mrs. Richman, procure him respect.”

His spacious manners render him acceptable
in public company; but I must own that
he is not the person with whom I wish my cousin
to be connected, even for a moment. She
never consulted me so little on any subject as
[Gap in transcription—1–2 charactersflawed-reproduction]n that of his card this morning. Before I had
[Gap in transcription—1–2 charactersflawed-reproduction]me to object, she dismissed the servant; and I
[Gap in transcription—1–2 charactersflawed-reproduction]rbore to destroy her expected happiness, by
acquainting her with my disapprobation of her
partner. Her omission was not design; it was
juvenile indiscretion. “We must, my dear sir,”
continued she, “look with a candid eye on such
[Gap in transcription—1–2 charactersflawed-reproduction]centricities. Faults, not foibles, require the
severity of censure. Far, madam, be it from me
[Gap in transcription—1–2 charactersflawed-reproduction] censure any conduct, which as yet I have observed
in Miss Wharton; she has too great an
interest in my heart to admit of that.”

We now went into more general conversation.
Tea was served; and I soon after took
leave. General Richman, however, insisted on
[Gap in transcription—2–3 charactersflawed-reproduction] dining with him on Thursday, which I
promised. And here I am again over head and 2B6v 24
and ears in the hypo. A disease, you will say,
peculiar to students. I believe it peculiar to
lovers; and with that class I must now rank
myself, though I did not know, until this evening,
that I was so much engaged as I find I
really am. I knew, indeed, that I was extremely
pleased with this amiable girl; that I was
interested in her favor; that I was happier in
her company than any where else, with innumerable
other circumstances, which would have
told me the truth, had I examined them. But
be that as it may; I hope, and trust that I
am, and ever shall be a reasonable creature;
and not suffer my judgment to be misled by
the operations of a blind passion.

I shall now lay aside this subject, endeavor to
divest even my imagination of the charmer, and
return until Thursday, to the contemplation of
those truths and duties, which have a happy
tendency to calm the jarring elements which
compose our mortal frame. Adieu.

Letter VIII.

We had an elegant ball, last night,
Charles; and what is still more to the taste of
your old friend, I had an elegant partner; one
exactly calculated to please my fancy; gay,
volatile, apparently thoughtless of every thing
but present enjoyment. It was Miss Eliza
Wharton, a young lady, whose agreeable person,
polished manners, and refined talents, have
rendered her the toast of the country around
for these two years; though for half that time
she has had a clerical lover imposed on her
by her friends; for I am told it was not agreeable
to her inclination. By this same clerical
lover of hers, she was for several months confined
as a nurse. But his death has happily
relieved her, and she now returns to the world
with redoubled lustre. At present she is a visitor
to Mrs. Richman, who is a relation. I first saw
her on a party of pleasure at Mr. Frazier’s
where we walked, talked, sung, and danced together.
I thought her cousin watched her with
jealous eye; for she is, you must know, a
[Gap in transcription—1 worddamaged]: and immaculate, more so than you or I C must C1v 26
must be the man who claims admission to her society.
But I fancy this young lady is a coquette;
and if so, I shall avenge my sex, by retaliating
the mischiefs; she meditates against us. Not
that I have any ill designs; but only to play
off her own artillery, by using a little unmeaning
gallantry. And let her beware of the consequences.
A young clergyman came in at
Gen. Richman’s yesterday, while I was waiting
for Eliza, who was much more cordially
received by the general and his lady, than was
your humble servant: but I lay that up.

When she entered the room, an air of mutual
embarrasment was evident. The lady recovered
her assurance much more easily than the
gentleman. I am just going to ride, and shall
make it in my way to call and inquire after the
health of my dulcinea. Therefore, adieu for the
present.

Letter IX.

I am not so happy to day in the recollection
of last evening’s entertainment, as I
was in the enjoyment.

The explanation which I promised you from
Mrs. Richman yesterday, I could not obtain.
When I went down to dinner, some friends of
General Richman’s had accidentally dropped
in, which precluded all particular conversation.
I retired soon to dress, and saw Mrs. Richman
no more, till I was informed that Major Sanford
waited for me. But I was surprised on going
into the parlour to find Mr. Boyer there. I
blushed and stammered; but I know not why;
for certain I am, that I neither love nor fear the
good man yet, whatever I may do some future
day. I would not be understood that I do not
respect and esteem him; for I do both. But
these are calm passions, which sooth rather than
agitate the mind. It was not the consciousness
of any impropriety of conduct; for I was far
from feeling any. The entertainment for
which I was prepared was such as virtue would
not disapprove, and my gallant was a man of fortune, C2v 28
fortune, fashion, and for ought I knew, of unblemished
character.

But Mr. Boyer was much more disconcerted
than myself. Indeed he did not recover his
philosophy while I staid. I believe, by some
hints I have received since, that he had some
particular views, in which he was disappointed.

Our ball had every charm which could render
a ball delightful. My partner was all ease,
politeness, and attention; and your friend was
as much flattered and caressed as variety itself
could wish. We returned to General Richman’s
about two. Major Sanford asked leave
to call and inquire after my health, this morning,
and I am now expecting him. I rose to
breakfast. The late hour of retiring to rest had
not depressed, but rather exhilerated my spirits.
My friends were waiting for me in the parlor.
They received me sociably, inquired after my
health, my last evening’s entertainment, the
company, &c. When, after a little pause, Mrs.
Richman said, “and how do you like Major
Sanford, Eliza?” “Very well indeed, madam:
I think him a finished gentleman. Will you,
who are a connoisieur, allow him that title?”
“No, my dear: in my opinion, he falls far below
it; since he is deficient in one of the great
essentials of the character, and that is, virtue.”
“I am surprised,” said I: “but how has he incurred
so severe a censure? By being a professed libertine;
by having but too successfully practised
the arts of seduction; by triumphing in the destruction
of innocence and the peace of families”[Gap in transcription—1 characterflawed-reproduction]

O, why was I not informed of this before?
But, perhaps these are old affairs; the effects
of juvenile folly; crimes of which he may have
repented, and which charity ought to obliterate.
No, my dear, they are recent facts; facts which
he dares not deny; facts for which he ought
to be banished from all virtuous society. I
should have intimated this to you before, but
your precipitate acceptance of his invitation deprived
me of an opportunity, until it was too
late to prevent your going with him; and we
thought it best to protract your enjoyment as
long as possible, not doubting but your virtue
and delicacy would, in future, guard you against
the like deception.

Must I then become an avowed prude at
once; and refuse him admission, if he call, in
compliance with the customary forms? By no
means. I am sensible, that even the false maxims
of the world must be complied with in a
degree. But a man of Major Sanford’s art can
easily distinguish between a forbidding, and an
encouraging reception. The former may, in this
case, be given without any breach of the rules
of politeness. Astonished, and mortified, I knew
not what further to say. I had been so pleased
with the man, that I wished to plead in his
favor; but virtue and prudence forbade. I
therefore rose and retired. He is this moment,
I am told, below stairs. So that I must bid
you adieu, until the next post.

Letter X.

Upon closing my last, I walked
down, and found Major Sanford alone. He
met me at the door of the parlor; and taking
my hand with an air of affectionate tenderness,
led me to a feat, and took one beside me. I
believe the gloom of suspicion had not entirely
forsaken my brow. He appeared, however,
not to notice it; but after the compliments of
the day had passed, entered into an easy
and agreeable conversation on the pleasures of
society: a conversation perfectly adapted to
my taste, and calculated to dissipate my chagrin,
and pass the time imperceptibly. He inquired
the place of my native abode; and having informed
him, he said he had thoughts of purchasing
the seat of Capt. Pribble, in that neighborhood,
for his residence; and could he be assured
of my society and friendship, his resolution
would be fixed. I answered his compliment
only by a slight bow. He took leave, and
I retired to dress for the day, being engaged to
accompany my cousin to dine at Mr. Lauren[Gap in transcription—2–3 charactersflawed-reproduction] a gentleman C4r 31
a gentleman of fortune and fashion, in this vicinity.
Mr. Laurence has but one daughter,
heiress to a large estate, with an agreeable form,
but a countenance, which to me, indicates not
much soul. I was surprised in the afternoon to see
Major Sanford alight at the gate. He entered
with the familiarity of an old acquaintance;
and, after accosting each of the company, told
me, with a low bow, “that he did not expect the
happiness of seeing me again so soon.” I received
his compliment with a conscious awkwardness.
Mrs. Richman’s morning lecture
still rung in my head; and her watchful eye
now traced every turn of mine, and every action
of the major’s. Indeed, his assiduity was
painful to me; yet I found it impossible to disengage
myself a moment from him, till the
close of the day brought our carriage to the
door; when he handed me in, and pressing my
hand to his lips, retired.

What shall I say about this extraordinary man?
Shall I own to you, my friend, that he is pleasing
to me? His person, his manners, his situation
all combine to charm my fancy; and to
my lively imagination, strew the path of life with
flowers. What a pity, my dear Lucy, that the
[Gap in transcription—2–3 charactersdamaged]ces and virtues are not oftner united! They
[Gap in transcription—2–3 charactersdamaged]ft, however, meet in the man of my choice;
[Gap in transcription—2–3 charactersdamaged]d till I find such a one, I shall continue to subscribe
my name.

Letter XI.

Well, Charles, I have been manœuvring
to day, a little revengefully. That,
you will say, is out of character. So baleful a
passion does not easily find admission among
those softer ones, which you well know I cherish.
However, I am a mere Proteus, and can
assume and shape that will best answer my purpose.

I called this forenoon, as I told you I intended,
at Gen. Richman’s. I waited some time in
the parlor alone, before Eliza appeared; and
when she did appear, the distant reserve of her
manners, and the pensiveness of her countenance
convinced me that she had been vexed and
I doubted not but Peter Sanford was the occasion.
Her wise cousin, I could have sworn, had
been giving her a detail of the vice of [Gap in transcription—1–2 charactersdamaged]
gallant; and warning her against the dangers
of associating with him in the future. Notwithstanding,
I took no notice of any alteration [Gap in transcription—2–3 charactersdamaged]
her behavior; but entered with the utmost[Gap in transcription—2–3 charactersdamaged]
centiousness into a conversation which I thought most C5r 33
most to her taste. By degrees, she assumed her
usual vivacity; cheerfulness and good humor
again animated her countenance. I tarried as
long as decency would admit. She having intimated
that they were to dine at my friend
Lawrence’s, I caught at this information; and
determined to follow them, and teaze the jealous
Mrs. Richman, by playing off all the gallantry
I was master of in her presence.

I went, and succeeded to the utmost of my
wishes, as I read in the vexation, visible in the
one; and the ease and attention displayed by
the other. I believe too, that I have charmed
the eye at least, of the amiable Eliza. Indeed,
Charles, she is a fine girl. I think it would hurt
my conscience to wound her mind or reputation.
Were I disposed to marry, I am persuaded
she would make an excellent wife; but that
you know is no part of my plan, so long as I
can keep out of the noose. Whenever I do submit
to be shackled, it must be from a necessity
of mending my fortune. This girl would be
far from doing that. However, I am pleased
with her acquaintance, and mean not to abuse
her credulity and good nature, if I can help it.

Letter XII.

The heart of your friend is again
besieged. Whether it will surrender to the assailants
or not, I am unable at present to determine.
Sometimes I think of becoming a
predestinarian, and submitting implicitly to fate,
without any exercise of free will; but, as mine
seems to be a wayward one, I would counteract
the operations of it, if possible.

Mrs. Richman told me this morning, that
“she hoped I should be as agreeably entertained
this afternoon, as I had been the preceding;
that she expected Mr. Boyer to dine, and take
tea; and doubted not but he would be as attentive
and sincere to me, if not as gay and polite
as the gentleman who obtruded his civilities
yesterday.” I replied that “I had no reason to
doubt the sincerity of the one, or the other,
having never put them to the test, nor did I imagine
I ever should.” “Your friends, Eliza,” said
she, “would be very happy to see you untied to a
man of Mr. Boyer’s worth; and so agreeably
settled, as he has a prospect of being.” “I hope” said C6r 35
said I, “that my friends are not so weary of my
company, as to wish to dispose of me. I am too
happy in my present connections to quit them
for new ones. Marriage is the tomb of friendship.
It appears to me a very selfish state. Why
do people, in general, as soon as they are married,
centre all their cares, their concerns, and
pleasures in their own families? former acquaintances
are neglected or forgotten. The tenderest
ties between friends are weakened, or dissolved;
and benevolence itself moves in a very limited
sphere.” “It is the glory of the marriage
state,” she rejoined, “to refine, by circumscribing
our enjoyments. Here we can repose in safety.

True, we cannot always pay that attention to
former associates, which we may wish; but the
little community which we superintend is quite
as important an object; and certainly renders
us more beneficial to the public. True benevolence,
though it may change its objects, is not
limited by time or place. Its effects are the
same, and aided by a second self, are rendered
more diffusive and salutary.”

Some pleasantry pasted, and we retired to
[Gap in transcription—1–2 charactersflawed-reproduction]ess. When summoned to dinner, I found
Mr. Boyer below. If what is sometimes said be
true, that love is diffident, reserved, and unassuming,suming, C6v 36
this man must be tinctured with it.
These symptoms were visible in his deportment
when I entered the room. However, he soon
recovered himself, and the conversation took a
general turn. The festive board was crowned
with sociability, and we found in reality, “The
feast of reason, and the flow of the soul.” After
we rose from table, a walk in the garden was
proposed, an amusement we are all peculiarly
fond of. Mr. Boyer offered me his arm. When
at a sufficient distance from our company, he
begged leave to congratulate himself on having
an opportunity which he had ardently desired
for some time, of declaring to me his attachment;
and of soliciting an interest in my favor;
or, if he might be allowed the term, affection.
I replied, that, “Sir, is indeed laying
claim to an important interest. I believe you
must substitute some more indifferent epithet
for the present.” “Well then,” said he, “if it must
be so, let it be esteem, or friendship.” “Indeed,
Sir,” said I, “you are intitled to them both. Merit
has always a share in that bank; and I know
of none, who has a larger claim on that score
than Mr. Boyer.” I suppose my manner was
hardly serious enough for what he considered a
weighty cause. He was a little disconcerted
but soon regaining his presence of mind, entreated
me, with an air of earnestness, to encourage
his suit, to admit his addresses, and if
possible, to reward his love. I told him, “that
this was rather a sudden affair to me; and so I could D1r 37
I could not answer him without consideration.”
“Well then,” said he, “take what time you think
proper, only relieve my suspense, as soon as may
be. Shall I visit you again to morrow?” “O, not
so soon,” said I. “Next Monday, I believe will
be early enough. I will endeavor to be at
home.” He thanked me even for that favor,
recommended himself once more to my kindness;
and we walked towards the company, returned
with them to the house, and he soon took
leave. I immediately retired to write this letter,
which I shall close, without a single observation
on the subject, until I know your opinion.

Letter XIII.

And so you wish to have my opinion
before you know the result of your own. This
is playing a little too much with my patience.
But, however, I will gratify you this once, in
hopes that my epistle may have a good effect.
You will ask, perhaps, whether I would influence
your judgment? I answer, no; provided D you D1v 38
you will exercise it yourself: but I am a little
apprehensive that your fancy will mislead you.
Methinks I can gather from your letters, a predilection
for this Major Sanford. But he is a
rake, my dear friend; and can a lady of your
delicacy and refinement, think of forming a connection
with a man of that character? I hope not.
Nay, I am confident you do not. You mean only
to exhibit a few more girlish airs, before you
turn matron. But I am persuaded, if you wish to
lead down the dance of life with regularity, you
will not find a more excellent partner than Mr.
Boyer. Whatever you can reasonably expect
in a lover, husband, or friend, you may perceive
to be united in this worthy man. His taste is undebauched,
his manners not vitiated, his morals
uncorrupted. His situation in life is, perhaps,
as elevated as you have a right to claim. Forgive
my plainness, Eliza. It is the task of
friendship, sometimes to tell disagreeable truths.
I know your ambition is to make a distinguished
figure in the first class of polished society; to
shine in the gay circle of fashionable amusements,
and to bear off the palm amidst the votaries of
pleasure. But these are fading honors, unsatisfactory
enjoyments; incapable of gratifying
those immortal principles of reason and religion,
which have been implanted in your mind
by nature; assiduously cultivated by the best of
parents, and exerted, I trust, by yourself. Let me
advise you then, in conducting this affair; an affair
big, perhaps, with your future fate, to lay aside those coquettish D2r 39
coquettish airs which you sometimes put on; and
remember that you are not dealing with a fop,
who will take advantage of every concession;
but with a man of sense and honor, who will
properly estimate you condescension, and frankness.
Act then with that modest freedom, that
dignified unreserve which bespeaks conscious
rectitude and sincerity of heart.

I shall be extremely anxious to hear the process
and progress of this business. Relieve my
impatience, as soon as possible, and believe me
yours, with undissembled affection.

Letter XIV.

I have received, and read again and
again, your friendly epistle. My reason and
judgment entirely coincide with your opinion;
but my fancy claims some share in the decision:
and I cannot yet tell which will preponderate.
This was the day fixed for deciding Mr. Boyer’s
cause. My friends here gave me a long
[Gap in transcription—3–4 charactersdamaged]tation on his merits. Your letter, likewise, had D2v 40
had its weight, and I was candidly summing up
the pros and cons in the garden, whither I had
walked (Gen. Richman and lady having rode
out) when I was informed that he was waiting
in the parlor. I went immediately in (a good
symptom, you will say) and received him very
graciously. After the first compliments were
over, he seemed eager to improve the opportunity
to enter directly on the subject of his present
visit. It is needless for me to recite to you,
who have long been acquainted with the whole
process of courtship, the declarations, propositions,
protestations, intreaties, looks, words and
actions of a lover. They are, I believe, much
the same, in the whole sex, allowing for their
different dispositions, educations, and characters.
But you are impatient I know for the conclusion.
You have hastily perused the preceding
lines, and are straining your eye forward
to my part of the farce; for such it may prove
after all. Well then, not to play too long with
the curiosity, which I know to be excited, and
actuated by real friendship, I will receive it. I
think you would have been pleased to have seen
my gravity, on this important occasion. With
all the candor and frankness which I was capable
of assuming, I thus answered his long harangue,
to which I had listened, without interrupting
him. “Self knowledge, sir, that most
important of all sciences, I have yet to learn.
Such have been my situations in life, and the
natural volatility of my temper, that I”[Gap in transcription—3–4 charactersdamaged] looked D3r 41
looked but little into my own heart, in regard
to its future wishes and views. From a scene
of constraint and confinement, ill suited to my
years and inclination, I have just launched into
society. My heart beats high in expectation
of its fancied joys. My sanguine imagination
paints, in alluring colors, the charms of youth
and freedom, regulated by virtue and innocence.
Of these, I wish to partake. While I own myself
under obligations for the esteem which you
are pleased to profess for me, and in return, acknowledge,
that neither your person nor manners
are disagreeable to me, I recoil at the
thought of immediately forming a connection,
which must confine me to the duties of domestic
life, and make me dependent for happiness,
perhaps too, for subsistence, upon a class of
people, who will claim the right of scrutinising
every part of my conduct; and by censuring
those foibles, which I am conscious of not having
prudence to avoid, may render me completely
miserable. While, therefore, I receive
your visits, and cultivate towards you sentiments
of friendship and esteem, I would not have you
consider me as confined to your society, or obligated
to a future connection. Our short acquaintance
renders it impossible for me to decide
what the operations of my mind may hereafter
be. You must either quit the subject, or
l[Gap in transcription—2–3 charactersdamaged]me to the exercise of my free will, which
[Gap in transcription—4–5 charactersdamaged]aps may coincide with your present wishes.
“Madam”, said he, “far is the wish from me to restrainD2 strain D3v 42
your person or mind. In your breast I
will repose my cause. It shall be my study to
merit a return of affection; and I doubt not,
but generosity and honor will influence your
conduct towards me. I expect soon to settle
among a generous and enlightened people,
where I flatter myself I shall be exempt from
those difficulties, and embarrassments, to which
too many of my brethren are subject. The
local situation is agreeable, the society refined
and polished; and if, in addition, I may
obtain that felicity which you are formed to
bestow, in a family connection, I shall be happy
indeed.”

He spoke with emphasis. The tear of sensibility
sparkled in his eye. I involuntarily gave
him my hand, which he pressed with ardor to
his lips. Then rising, he walked to the window
to conceal his emotion. I rang the bell
and ordered tea; during, and after which, we
shared that social converse, which is the true
zest of life, and which, I am persuaded, none
but virtuous minds can participate. General
Richman and lady returned with the shades
of the evening. The penetrating eye of
my cousin traced in our countenances the
progress of the cause, and the smile of approbation
animated hers. Mr. Boyer asked the favor
of my company to ride to morrow morning,
which was granted. He tarried to supper and
took his leave. I retired immediately to my
chamber, to which I was followed by [Gap in transcription—3–4 charactersdamaged] Richman D4r 43
Richman. I related to her the conversation,
and the encouragement which I had given to Mr.
Boyer. She was pleased; but insisted that I
should own myself somewhat engaged to him.
This, I told her “I should never do to any man,
before the indissoluble knot was tied.” “That”, said
I, “will be time enough to resign my freedom.”
She replied that I had wrong ideas of freedom,
and matrimony; but she hoped that Mr. Boyer
would happily rectify them.

I have now, dear friend, given you an
account of my present situation, and leave you
to judge for yourself concerning it. Write me
your opinion, and believe me ever yours.

Letter XV.

I congratulate you, my dear
Eliza, on the stability of your conduct towards
Mr. Boyer. Pursue the system which you have
[Gap in transcription—5–6 charactersdamaged] and I dare say, that happiness will
[Gap in transcription—5–6 charactersdamaged]ur future days. You are indeed very tenacious D4v 44
tenacious of your freedom, as you call it; but
that is a play about words. A man of Mr. Boyer’s
honor and good sense will never abridge
any privileges which virtue can claim.

When do you return to embellish our society,
here? I am impatient to see you, and likewise
this amiable man. I am much interested in his favor.
By the way, I am told that Major Sanford has
been to look at the seat of Captain Pribble, which
is upon sale. It is reported that he will probably
purchase it. Many of our gentry are pleased
with the prospect of such a neighbor. “As
an accomplished gentleman,” say they, “he will be
an agreeable addition to our social parties; and
as a man of property, and public spirit, he will
be an advantage to the town”; but, from what
I have heard of him, I am far from supposing
him a desirable acquisition in either of these respects.
A man of vicious character cannot be
a good member of society. In order to that,
his principles and practice must be uncorrupted:
in his morals, at least, he must be a man of probity,
and honor. Of these qualifications, if I mistake
not, this gallant of yours cannot boast.
But I shall not set up for a censor. I hope neither
you nor I shall have much connection with
him. My swain interests himself very much in
your affairs. You will possibly think him impertinent;
but I give his curiosity a sof[Gap in transcription—3–4 charactersdamaged] name
Should I own to you that I place great confidence
in his integrity and honor, y[Gap in transcription—4–5 charactersdamaged] would
perhaps, laugh at my weakness, but[Gap in transcription—6–7 charactersdamaged] [Gap in transcription—1–2 wordsdamaged] D5r 45
[Gap in transcription—1–3 charactersflawed-reproduction] have pride enough to keep me above coquettery,
or prudery; and discretion enough, I hope,
to secure me from the errors of both. With
him I have determined to walk the future round
of life. What folly then would it be to affect
reserve and distance, relative to an affair in
which I have so much interest? Not that I am
going to betray your secrets. These I have no
right to divulge; but I must be the judge
what may, and what may not be communicated.
I am very much pressed for an early day of consummation;
but I shall not listen to a request of
that kind, till your return. Such is my regard
for you, that a union of love would be imperfect,
if friendship attended not the rites. Adieu,

Letter XVI.

We go on charmingly here; almost
as soft and smooth as your ladyship. It seems to
me that love must stagnate, if it have not a light
[Gap in transcription—5–6 charactersdamaged] of discord once in a while to keep it in motion. D5v 46
motion. We have not tried any yet, however.
We had a lovely tour this forenoon; were out
three long hours, and returned to dinner in perfect
harmony.

Mr. Boyer informed me that he should set out
to morrow morning, for his future residence, and
soon put on the sacred bands. He solicited an
epistolary correspondence, at the same time, as
an alleviation of the care which that weighty
charge would bring on his mind. I consented;
telling him, that he must not expect any thing
more than general subjects from me.

We were somewhat interrupted in our confidential
intercourse, in the afternoon, by the arrival
of Major Sanford. I cannot say that I was
not agreeably relieved. So sweet a repast, for
several hours together, was rather sickening to
my taste. My enamorato looked a little mortified
at the cheerful reception which I gave the
intruder, and joined not so placidly in the social
conversation, as I could have wished.

When Mr. Boyer, after the Major took leave,
pressed me to give him some assurance of my
constancy, I only reminded him of the terms
of our engagement. Seeing me decided, he
was silent on the subject, and soon bid me an
affectionate adieu; not expecting, as he told
me, the pleasure of a personal interview again,
for two or three months.

Thus far we have proceeded in this sober business.
A good beginning you will say. Perhaps
it is. I do not, however, feel myself [Gap in transcription—4–5 charactersdamaged] [Gap in transcription—1–2 wordsdamaged] D6r 47
ly interested in the progress of the negociation.
Time may consolidate my affections, and enable
me to fix them on some particular object.
At present the most lively emotions of
my heart are those of friendship; that friendship
which I hope you will soon participate with
your faithful

Letter XVII.

I have succeeded in my addresses to
the lovely Eliza Wharton; as far as least as I
had any reason to expect from our short acquaintance.
I find the graces of her person and mind
rise in my esteem; and have already enjoyed,
in her society, some of the happiest hours of my
life. She is kind, affable, and condescending;
yet I must own that I have not been able to infuse
into her bosom, the ardor which I feel in
my own. I know that the native modesty of
the sex would restrain the discovery; but there
[Gap in transcription—3–4 charactersdamaged] animation of countenance, which betrays
[Gap in transcription—3–4 charactersdamaged]nsations of the heart, that I find wanting
[Gap in transcription—5–6 charactersdamaged]n this occasion.

I have just taken leave of my fair, and propose
returning to morrow morning; to take
upon me the solemn charge, which lies with such
weight upon my mind, that I need every support,
both human and divine. Eliza has promised
to correspond with me. From this I anticipate
a source of pleasure, which alone can
atone for her absence.

Letter XVIII.

Do you know, Charles, that I have
commenced lover? I was always a general one;
but now I am somewhat particular. I shall be
the more interested, as I am likely to meet with
difficulties; and it is the glory of a rake, as
well as a christian to combat obstacles. This
same Eliza, of whom I have told you, has really
made more impression on my heart, than I was
aware of; or than the sex, take them as they [Gap in transcription—3–4 charactersdamaged]
are wont to do. But she is besieged by a rake
(a likely lad though.) I know not [Gap in transcription—7–8 charactersdamaged] but E1r 49
but they are commonly successful with the
girls, even the gayest of them. This one, too,
has the interest of all her friends, as I am told.
I called yesterday, at General Richman’s, and
found this pair together, apparently too happy in
each other’s society for my wishes. I must own,
that I felt a glow of jealousy, which I never experienced
before; and vowed revenge for the
pain it gave me, though but momentary. Yet
Eliza’s reception of me was visibly cordial; nay,
I fancied my company as pleasing to her as that
which she had before. I tarried not long, but left
him to the enjoyment of that pleasure which I flatter
myself will be short-lived. O, I have another
plan in my head; a plan of necessity, which,
you know, is the mother of invention. It is
this: I am very much courted and caressed by
the family of Mr. Lawrence, a man of large
property in this neighborhood. He has only
one child; a daughter, with whom I imagine
the old folks intend to shackle me in the bonds
of matrimony. The girl looks very well. She
has no soul though, that I can discover. She
is heiress, nevertheless, to a great fortune; and
that is all the soul I wish for in a wife. In truth,
Charles, I know of no other way to mend my
circumstances. But lisp not a word of my embarrassments
for your life. Show and equipage
are my hobby-horse; and if any female wish to
share them with me, and will furnish me with the
means of supporting them, I have no objection.
[Gap in transcription—2–3 charactersdamaged]ld I conform to the sober rules of wedded E life, E1v 50
life, and renounce those dear enjoyments of dissipation,
in which I have so long indulged, I
know not the lady in the world with whom I
would sooner form a connection of this sort
than with Eliza Wharton. But it will never do.
If my fortune, or hers were better, I would risk
a union; but as they are, no idea of the kind
can be admitted. I shall endeavor, notwithstanding,
to enjoy her company as long as possible.
Though I cannot possess her wholly myself,
I will not tamely see her the property of
another.

I am now going to call at General Richman’s,
in hopes of an opportunity to profess my devotion
to her. I know I am not a welcome
visitor to the family; but I am independent of
their censure or esteem, and mean to act accordingly,

Letter XIX.

I find the ideas of sobriety, and domestic
solitude, I have been cultivating for three
days past, somewhat deranged by the interruption
of a visitor, with whom, I know, you will
not be pleased. It is no other than Major Sanford.
I was walking alone in the garden yesterday,
when he suddenly appeared to my view.
“How happy am I”, said he, “seizing my hand, in
this opportunity of finding you alone; an opportunity,
Miss Wharton, which I must improve
in expatiating on a theme, that fills my heart,
and solely animates my frame.”

I was startled at his impetuosity, and displeased
with his freedom. Withdrawing my hand,
I told him, that my retirement was sacred. He
bowed submissively; begged pardon for his intrusion,
alledged, that he found no body but the
servants in the house; that they informed him, I
was alone in the garden, which intelligence was
too pleasing for him to consult any forms of
ceremony for the regulation of his conduct.
He h[Gap in transcription—2 charactersdamaged] went on rhapsodically to declare his
[Gap in transcription—4–5 charactersdamaged], his suspicions, that I was forming a connection E2v 52
connection with Mr. Boyer, which would effectually
destroy all his hopes of future happiness.
He painted the restraint, the confinement, the
embarrassments to which a woman, connected
with a man of Mr. Boyer’s profession, must be
subjected; however agreeable his person might
be. He asked if my generous mind could submit
to cares and perplexities like these; whether
I could not find greater sources of enjoyment
in a more elevated sphere of life, or share pleasures
better suited to my genius and disposition,
even in a single state? I listened to him involuntarily.
My heart did not approve his sentiments,
but my ear was charmed with his rhetoric,
and my fancy captivated by his address.

He invited my confidence, by the most ardent
professions of friendship, and labored to remove
my suspicions by vows of sincerity. I was induced
by his importunity, gradually to disclose the
state of affairs between Mr. Boyer and myself.
He listened eagerly; “wished not”, he said, “to influence
me unduly; but if I were not otherwise
engaged, might he presume to solicit a
place in my friendship and esteem; be admitted
to enjoy my society, to visit me as an acquaintance,
and to attend my excursions and amusements,
as a brother, if no more?” I replied,
that “I was a pensioner of friendship, at present;
that my friends were extremely refined in their
notions of propriety, and that I had no right to
receive visitants independent of them.” “I understand
you, madam”, said he. “You intimate [Gap in transcription—4–5 charactersdamaged] my E3r 53
my company is not agreeable to them: but I
know not why. Surely my rank in life is as
elevated; and my knowledge of, and acceptance
in the world, are as extensive as General Richman’s.”
“I hope”, said I, “since we are engaged in
the conversation, that you will excuse my frankness,
if I tell you, that the understanding and
virtue of this worthy couple, induce them, without
any regard to rank, to bestow their esteem
wherever it is merited. I cannot say that you
are not a sharer. Your own heart can best determine,
whether upon their principles, you are,
or not!” He appeared mortified, and chagrined;
and we had walked some distance without exchanging
a word, or a look. At last he rejoined,
“I plead guilty to the charge, madam, which
they have undoubtedly brought against me, of
imprudence and folly is many particulars; yet of
malignancy and vice I am innocent. Brought
up in affluence; innured from my infancy to
the gratification of ever passion; the indulgence
of every wish, it is not strange, that a life of dissipation
and gaiety should prove alluring to a
youthful mind, which had to care but to procure
what it deemed enjoyment. In this pursuit
I have perhaps deviated from the right rules
of discretion, and the harsher laws of morality.”

“But let the veil of charity be drawn ever my
faults; let the eye of candor impartially examine
my present behavior; let the kind and lenient
hand of friendship [Gap in transcription—4–5 charactersflawed-reproduction]in our [Gap in transcription—2 charactersflawed-reproduction]ing my
future steps; and, perhaps, I may not prove unworthyE2 worthy E3v 54
of associating with the respectable inhabitants
of this happy mansion; for such I am sure
it must be, while honored with Miss Wharton’s
presence. But, circumstanced as you and I are,
at present, I will not sue for your attention, as a
lover; but rest contended, if possible, with that
share of kindness, and regard, which your benevolence
may afford me as a friend.” I bowed
in approbation of his resolution. He pressed
my hand with ardor to his lips; and at
that instant General Richman entered the garden.
He approached us cheerfully, offered Major
Sanford his hand with apparent cordiality,
and told us pleasantly, “that he hoped he should
not be considered as an intruder.” “By no means,
sir,” said Major Sanford. “It is I who have incurred
that imputation. I called this afternoon to
pay you my respects; when being informed that
you and your lady were abroad, and that Miss
Wharton was in the garden, I took the liberty
to invade her retirement. She has graciously
forgiven my crime, and I was just affixing the
seal to my pardon as you entered.”

We then returned into the house. Mrs.
Richman received us politely. During tea, the
conversation turned on literary subjects, in which
I cannot say that the Major bore a very distinguished
part. After he was gone, Mrs. Richman
said, “I hope you have been agreeably entertained,
Miss Wharton?” “I did not chuse my
company, madam,” said I. “Nor,” said she, “did
you refuse it, I presume.” “Would you [Gap in transcription—4–5 charactersdamaged] me E4r 55
me respect the rights of hospitality towards your
guests, when you are absent, madam?” “If you
had acted from that motive, I own my obligations
to you, my dear; but even that consideration
can hardly reconcile me to the sacrifice
of time, which you have made to the amusement
of a seducer.” “I hope, madam, you do
not think me an object of seduction!” “I do not
think you seducible; nor was Richardson’s
Clarissa, till she made herself the victim, by her
own indiscretion. Pardon me, Eliza, this is a
second Lovelace. I am alarmed by his artful
intrusions. His insinuating attention to you are
characteristic of the man. Come, I presume
you are not interested to keep his secrets, if you
know them. Will you give me a little sketch of
his conversation?” “Most willingly”, said I; and, accordingly,
related the whole. When I had concluded,
she shook her head, and replied, “beware,
my friend, of his arts. Your own heart is too
sincere to suspect treachery and dissimulation
in another; but suffer not your ear to be charmed
by the syren voice of flattery; nor your eye
to be caught by the phantom of gaiety and
pleasure. Remember your engagements to Mr.
Boyer. Let sincerity and virtue be your guides,
and they will lead you to happiness and peace.”
She waited not for an answer, but immediately
rising, begged leave to retire, alledging that she
was fatigued. Gen. Richman accompanied her,
and I hastened to my apartment, where I have
written thus far, and shall send it on for your comments. E4v 56
comments. I begin to think of returning soon
to your circle. One inducement is, that I may
be free from the intrusions of this man. Adieu.

Letter XX.

From the conversation of the polite,
the sedate, the engaging and the gay; from
corresponding with the learned, the sentimental
and the refined, my heart and my pen
turn with ardor and alacrity to a tender and affectionate
parent, the faithful guardian and guide
of my youth; the unchanging friend of my
riper years. The different dispositions of various
associates, sometimes perplex the mind,
which seeks direction; but in the disinterested
affection of the maternal beast, we fear no dissonance
of passion, no jarring interests, no disunion
of love. In this feat of felicity is every
enjoyment which fancy can form, or friendship,
with affluence, bestow; but still my mind frequently
returns to the happy shades of my nativity.
I wish there to impart my pleasures, and
share the counsels of my best, my long[Gap in transcription—3–4 charactersdamaged] and E5r 57
and experienced friend. At this time, my dear
mamma, I am peculiarly solicitous for your advice.
I am again inportuned to listen to the voice
of love; again called upon to accept the addresses
of a gentleman of merit and respectability.
You will know the character of the
man, when I tell you, it is Mr. Boyer. But his situation
in life! I dare not enter it. My disposition
is not calculated for that sphere. There are duties
arising from the station, which I fear I should not
be able to fulfil; cares and restraints to which
I could not submit. This man is not disagreeable
to me; but if I must enter the connubial
state, are there not others, who may be equally
pleasing in their persons, and whose profession
may be more conformable to my taste? You,
madam, have passed through this scene of trial,
with honor and applause. But alas! can your
volatile daughter ever acquire your wisdom;
ever possess you resolution, dignity and prudence?

I hope soon to converse with you personally
upon the subject, and to profit by your precepts
and example. I anticipate the hour of my return
to your bosom, with impatience. My daily
thoughts and nightly dreams restore me to the
society of my beloved mamma; and, till I enjoy
it in reality, I subscribe myself your dutiful
daughter,

Letter XXI.

How welcome to me, my dear Eliza,
are the tidings of your return? My widowed
heart has mourned your absence, and languished
for the company of its now, dearest connection.
When stript of one dependence, the mind naturally
collects, and rests itself in another. Your father’s
death deprived me, for a while, of every
enjoyment. But a reviving sense of the duties
which I owed to a rising family, roused em
from the lethargy of grief. In my cares I found
an alleviation of my sorrows. The expanding virtues
of my children soothed and exhilerated my
drooping spirits; and my attention to their education,
and interest, was amply rewarded by
their proficiency and duty. In them, every hope,
every pleasure now centres. They are the axis
on which revolves the temporal felicity of their
mother. Judge then, my dear, how anxiously
I must watch, how solicitously I must regard
every circumstance which relates to their
welfare and prosperity! Exquisitely alive to
these sensations, your letter awakens my hopes and E6r 59
and my fears. As you are young and
charming, a thousand dangers lurk unseen around
you. I wish you to find a friend and
protector, worthy of being rewarded by your
love and your society. Such a one, I think,
Mr. Boyer will prove. I am, therefore, sorry,
since there can be no other, that his profession
should be an objection in your mind. You say,
that I have experienced the scenes of trial, connected
with that station. I have, indeed; and
I will tell you the result of this experience. It
is, that I have found it replete with happiness.
No class of society has domestic enjoyment
more at command, than clergymen. Their
circumstances are generally a decent competency.
They are removed alike from the perplexing
cares of want, and from the distracting
parade of wealth. They are respected by all
ranks, and partakers of the best company.
With regard to its being a dependent situation,
what one is not so? Are we not all links in the
great chain of society, some more, some less important;
but each upheld by others, throughout
the confederate whole? In whatever situation
we are placed, our greater or less degree
of happiness must be derived from ourselves.
Happiness is in a great measure the result of our
own dispositions and actions. Let us conduct
uprightly and justly; with propriety and steadiness;
not servilely cringing for favor, nor arrogantly
claiming more attention and respect than
our due; let us bear with fortitude the providential,dential, E6v 60
and unavoidable evils of life, and we
shall spend our days with respectability and contentment,
at least.

I will not expatiate on the topic of your
letter, till we have a personal interview, for
which I am, indeed, impatient. Return, my
daughter, as soon as politeness will allow, to
your expecting friends; more especially, to the
fond embraces of your affectionate mother,

Letter XXII.

Can time, can distance, can absence
allay, or extinguish the sentiments of refined affection,
the ardor of true love? No, my dear
Eliza. If I may judge by my own heart, I shall
say they cannot. Amidst the parade which
has attended me, the interesting scenes in which
I have been engaged, and the weighty cares,
which have occupied my attention, your idea
has been the solace of my retired moments;
the soother of every anxious thought. I recal,
with pleasure, the conversation which we have shared F1r 61
shared. I dwell with rapture on the marks of
favor which I have received from you. My
first wish is the continuance and increase of these
favors; my highest ambition, to deserve them.
I look forward and anticipate with impatience,
the future enjoyment of your society; and hope
we shall one day experience the reality of those
beautiful lines of Thompson:

Mr. Selby, my particular friend, will have the
honor of delivering this letter. He will be able
to give you any information, relative to our public
transactions, which you may wish. May I
solicit the favor of a line, through him, in return?
It will relieve, in some measure, the tediousness
of this separation. I intend to pay my
respects to you personally, in about a fortnight;
till when, I subscribe myself your sincere and affectionate
friend,

Letter XXIII.

I have executed your commission,
and have been amply rewarded for my trouble, by
the pleasure I enjoyed in the society of the agreeable
family to which I was introduced; especially
of the amiable and accomplished lady, who
is the object of your particular regard. I think
she fully justifies your partiality to her. She
appears to possess both the virtues and the graces.
Her form is fine, and her countenance interests
us at once in her favor. There is a mixture
of dignity and ease, which commands respect,
and conciliates affection. After these encomiums,
will you permit me to say, there is an air
of gaiety in her appearance and deportment,
which favors a little of coquetry. I am persuaded,
however, that she has too much good
sense to practise its arts. She received your letter
very graciously, asked leave to retire a few
moments; and returned with a smile of complacency
on her brow, which I construe favorably
to you.

There was a Mr. Laurence, with his lady and
daughter, and a certain Major Sanford, at the
house. The latter, I believe, in the modern
sense of the phrase, is much of a gentleman, that
[Gap in transcription—2–3 charactersflawed-reproduction], a man of show and fashion.

Miss Wharton asked me, when I should leave
[Gap in transcription—1–2 charactersflawed-reproduction]wn, and when I should return, or have an opportunity
of conveyance to Hampshire? I told
[Gap in transcription—2–3 charactersflawed-reproduction]er I should write by the next post, and if she
had any commands, would be happy to execute
them. “She would send a line to her friend”, she
said, “if I would take the trouble to inclose it in
my letter.” I readily consented; and told her,
that “I would call and receive her favor to morrow
morning.” This chit-chat was a little aside;
but I could not but observe, that the foresaid
Major Sanford had dropped his part in the conversation
of the rest of the company, and was
extending to us, though he endeavored to
conceal his attention, by looking carelessly over
[Gap in transcription—1–2 charactersflawed-reproduction] play, which lay on the window by him. Yet
he evidently watched every word and action of
Miss Wharton, as if he were really interested in
her movements.

It is said she has many admirers, and I conceive
it very possible that this may be one of
them; though, truly, I do not think that she
would esteem such a conquest any great honor.
I now joined in the general topic of conversation,
which was politics. Mrs. Richman and
Miss Wharton judiciously, yet modestly bore a
[Gap in transcription—3–4 charactersflawed-reproduction] while the other ladies amused themselves with F2v 64
with Major Sanford, who was making his sage
remarks on the play, which he still kept in his
hand. General Richman at length observed,
that we had formed into parties. Major Sanford,
upon this, laid aside his book. Miss Laurence
simplered; and looked as if she was well
pleased with being in a party with so fine a man;
while her mother replied, that she never meddled
with politics; she thought they did not belong
to ladies. “Miss Wharton and I”, said Mrs.
Richman, “must beg leave to differ from you,
madam. We think ourselves interested in the
welfare and prosperity of our country; and, consequently,
claim the right of inquiring into those
affairs, which may conduce to, or interfere with
the common weal. We shall not be called to
the senate or the field to assert its privileges, and
defend its rights, but we shall feel for the honor
and safety of our friends and connections,
who are thus employed. If the community
flourish and enjoy health and freedom, shall we
not share in the happy effects? if it be oppressed
and disturbed, shall we not endure our
proportion of the evil? Why then should the
love of our country be a masculine passion only?
Why should government, which involves
the peace and order of the society, of which
we are a part, be wholly excluded from our observation?”
Mrs. Laurence made some slight reply
and waved the subject. The gentlemen
applauded Mrs. Richman’s sentiments as truly Roman; F3r 65
Roman; and what was more, they said, “truly
republican”.

I rose to take leave, observing to Miss Wharton,
that I should call to morrow, as agreed.
Upon this, Gen. Richman politely requested the
favor of my company at dinner. I accepted
his invitation, and bid them good night. I shall
do the same to you for the present; as I intend,
to morrow to scribble the cover, which is to inclose
your Eliza’s letter.

Letter XXIV.

I resume my pen, having just returned
from Gen. Richman’s; not with an expectation,
however, of your reading this, till
you have perused, and reperused the inclosed.
I can bear such neglect, in this case, as I have
been alike interest myself.

I went to Gen. Richman’s at twelve o’clock.
About a mile from thence, upon turning a corner,
I observed a gentleman and lady on horseback,
some way before me, riding a very moderate
pace, and seemingly in close conversation. F2 I kept F3v 66
I kept at the same distance from them, till I saw
them stop at the General’s gate. I then put on,
and coming up with them, just as they alighted,
and was surprised to find them no other than
Major Sanford and Miss Wharton. They were
both a little disconcerted at my salutation; I
know not why. Miss Wharton invited him in;
but he declined, being engaged to dine. Gen.
Richman received us at the door. As I handed
Miss Wharton in, he observed jocosely, that
she had changed company. “Yes sir”, she replied,
“more than once, since I went out, as
you doubtless observed.” “I was not aware,”
said Mrs. Richman, “that Major Sanford was to
be of your party to day.” “It was quite accidental,
madam,” said Miss Wharton. Miss Laurence
and I had agreed last evening, to take a
little airing, this forenoon. A young gentleman,
a relation of her’s, who is making them a
visit, was to attend us. We had not rode
more than two miles, when we were overtaken
by Major Sanford, who very politely asked leave
to join our party. Miss Laurence very readily
consented; and we had a very sociable ride.
The fineness of the day induced me to protract
the enjoyment of it abroad; but Miss Laurence
declined riding so far as I proposed, as she had
engaged company to dine. We therefore parted
till evening, when we are to meet again.
“What, another engagement!” said Mrs. Richman.
“Only to the assembly, madam. May I inquire
after your gallant, my dear?” “But I have no right F4r 67
right, perhaps, to be inquisitive,” said Mrs. Richman.
Miss Wharton made no reply; and the
conversation took a general turn. Miss Wharton
sustained her part with great propriety. Indeed,
she discovers a fund of useful knowledge,
and extensive reading, which render her peculiarly
entertaining; while the brilliancy of her
wit, the fluency of her language, the vivacity
and ease of her manners, are inexpressibly engaging.
I am going myself to the assembly this
evening, though I did not mention it to General
Richman; I therefore took my leave soon after
dinner.

I have heard so much in praise of Miss Wharton’s
penmanship, in addition to her other endowments,
that I am almost tempted to break
the seal of her letter to you; but I forbear. Wishing you much happiness in the perusal of
it, and more in the possession of its writer, I subscribe
myself, yours, &c.

Letter XXV.

Your favor of the 4th inst. came to
hand yesterday. I received it with pleasure,
and embrace this early opportunity of contributing
my part to a correspondence, tending to
promote a friendly and social intercourse. An
epistolary communication between the sexes has
been with some, a subject of satire and censure;
but unjustly, in my opinion. With persons of
refinement and information, it may be a source
of entertainment and utility. The knowledge
and masculine virtues of your sex may be softened,
and rendered more diffusive by the inquisitiveness,
vivacity, and docility of ours; drawn
forth and exercised by each other.

In regard to the particular subject of your’s I
shall be silent. Ideas of that kind are better conveyed,
on my part, by words than by the pen.

I congratulate you on your agreeable settlement,
and hope it will be productive of real and
lasting happiness. I am convinced that felicity
is not confined to any particular station, or conditiondition F5r 69
in life; yet methinks some are better calculated
to afford it to me, than others.

Your extract from a favorite poet is charmingly
descriptive; but is it not difficult to ascertain
what we can pronounce “an elegant sufficiency?”
Perhaps you will answer as some others
have done, We can attain it by circumscribing
our wishes within the compass of our abilities.
I am not very avaricious; yet I must own that
I should like to enjoy it without so much trouble
as that would cost me.

Excuse my seeming levity. You have flattered
my cheerfulness by commending it; and
must, therefore, indulge me in the exercise of it.
I cannot conveniently be at the pains of restraining
its sallies, when I write in confidence.

Is a sprightly disposition, in your view, indicative
of a giddy mind, or an innocent heart? Of
the latter, I presume; for I know you are not
a misanthrope.

We expect the pleasure of Mr. Selby’s company
to dinner. You are, certainly, under
obligations to his friendship for the liberal encomiums
he bestowed on you, and your prospects
yesterday. Mrs. Richman rallied me after he
was gone, on my listening ear. The General
and she unite in requesting me to present their
respects. Wishing you health and happiness, I
subscribe myself your friend,

Letter XXVI.

I am perplexed and embarrassed, my
friend, by the assiduous attentions of this Major
Sanford. I shall write circumstantially, and
frankly to you, that I may have the benefit of
your advice. He came here, last Monday, in
company with Mr. Laurence, his wife, and
daughter, to make us a visit. While they were
present, a Mr. Selby, a particular friend of Mr.
Boyer, came in, and delivered me a letter from
him. I was really happy in the reception of this
proof of his affection. His friend gave a very
flattering account of his situation and prospects.

The watchful eye of Major Sanford traced
every word and action, respecting Mr. Boyer,
with an attention, which seemed to border on
anxiety. That, however, did not restrain, but
rather accelerate my vivacity and inquisitiveness
on the subject; for I wished to know
whether it would produce any real effect upon
him, or not.

After Mr. Selby’s departure, he appeared pensive,
and thoughtful, the remainder of the evening; F6r 71
evening; and evidently sought an opportunity
of speaking to me aside; which I studiously
avoided. Miss Laurence and I formed
an engagement to take an airing in the
morning on horseback; attended by a relation
of hers, who is now with them. They
called for me about ten, when we immediately
set out upon our preconcerted excursion. We
had not proceeded far, before we were met by
Major Sanford. He was extremely polite, and
finding our destination was not particular, begged
leave to join our party. This was granted,
and we had an agreeable tour for several miles;
the time being passed in easy, and unstudied remarks
upon obvious occurrences. Maj. Sanford
could not, however, conceal his particular attention
to me, which rather nettled Miss Laurence.
She grew somewhat serious, and declined
riding so far as we had intended; alledging
that she expected company to dine.

Major Sanford understanding that she was
going to the assembly in the evening with Mr.
Gordon, solicited me to accept a ticket and form
a party with them. The entertainment was
alluring, and I consented. When we had parted
with Miss Laurence, Major Sanford insisted
on my riding a little farther; saying, “he must
converse with me on a particular subject; and
if I refused him this opportunity, that he must
visit me, at my residence, let it offend whom it
would.” I yielded to his importunity; and we
rode on. He then told me that his mind was in F6v 72
in a state of suspense and agitation, which was
very painful to bear; and which I only could
relieve; that my cheerful reception of Mr. Boyer’s
letter, yesterday, and deportment respecting
him, had awakened in his breast all the pangs
of jealousy, which the most ardent love could
feel; that my treatment of Mr. Boyer’s friend
convinced him that I was more interested in his
affairs than I was willing to own; that he foresaw
himself to be condemned to an eternal separation;
and the total loss of my favor and society,
as soon as time and circumstances would
allow.

His zeal, his pathos, alarmed me. I begged
him to be calm. “To you,” said I, “as a friend,
I have intrusted my situation in relation to Mr.
Boyer. You know that I am under no special
obligation to him; and I do not intend to form
any immediate connection.” “Mr. Boyer must
have different ideas, madam; and he has reason
for them, if I may judge by appearances. When
do you expect another visit from him?” “In about
a fortnight.” “And is my fate to be then decided;
and so decided, as I fear it will be, through
the influence of your friends, if not by your
own inclination?” “My friends, sir, will not control;
they will only advise to what they think
most for my interest; and I hope, that my conduct
will not be unworthy of their approbation.”
“Pardon me, my dear Eliza,” said he, “if I am
impertinent; it is my regard for you which impels
me to the presumption. Do you intend to give G1r 73
give your hand to Mr. Boyer?” “I do not intend
to give my hand to any man at present. I
have but lately entered society; and wish, for
a while, to enjoy my freedom, in the participation
of pleasures, suited to my age and sex.”
“These,” said he, “you are aware, I suppose, when
you form a connection with that man, you must
renounce; and content yourself with a confinement
to the tedious round of domestic duties,
the pedantic conversation of scholars, and the invidious
criticisms of a whole town.” “I have
been accustomed,” said I, “and am therefore attached
to men of letters; and as to the praise
or censure of the populace, I hope always to
enjoy that approbation of conscience, which will
render me superior to both. But you forget
your promise, not to talk in this style; and
have deviated far from the character of a friend
and brother, with which you consented to
rest satisfied.” “Yes, but I find myself unequal
to the task. I am not stoic enough, tamely to
make so great a sacrifice. I must plead for an
interest in your favor, till you banish me from
your presence, and tell me plainly that you
hate me”. We had by this time reached the
gate; and as we dismounted, were unexpectedly
accosted by Mr. Selby, who had come agreeably
to his promise, to dine with us, and receive
my letter to Mr. Boyer.

Major Sanford took his leave as General
Richman appeared at the door. The General
and his lady rallied me on my change of company;G pany; G1v 74
but very prudently concealed their sentiments
of Major Sanford, while Mr. Selby was
present. Nothing material occurred before, and
during dinner; soon after which, Mr. Selby
went away. I retired to dress for the assembly;
and had nearly completed the labor of the toilet,
when Mrs. Richman entered. “My friendship for
you, my dear Eliza,” said she, “interests me so
much in your affairs, that I cannot repress my
curiosity to know who has the honor of your
hand, this evening.” “If it be any honor,” said I,
“it will be confered on Major Sanford.” “I think
it is far too great to be thus bestowed,” returned
she. “It is perfectly astonishing to me, that the
virtuous part of my sex will countenance, caress,
and encourage those men, whose profession it is
to blast their reputation, destroy their peace, and
triumph in their infamy!” “Is this, madam, the
avowed design of Major Sanford?” “I know not
what he avows; but his practice too plainly
bespeaks his principles and views.” “Does he
now practice the arts you mention; or do you
refer to past follies?” “I cannot answer for his
present conduct; his past has established his
character.” “You, madam, are an advocate for
charity; that, perhaps, if exercised in this instance
might lead you to think it possible for
him to reform; to become a valuable member
of society; and, when connected with a lady of
virtue and refinement, to be capable of making
a good husband. I cannot conceive that such a
lady would be willing to risk her all [Gap in transcription—2–3 charactersdamaged] in the
slender prospect of his reformation.” “I h[Gap in transcription—2–3 charactersdamaged]e the me G2r 75
me with whom I am conversing, has no inclination
to so hazardous, an experiment. Why,
not much.” “Not much! If you have any, why
do you continue to encourage Mr. Boyer’s addresses?”
“I am not sufficiently acquainted with
either yet, to determine which to take. At present,
I shall not confine myself in any way. In
regard to these men, my fancy and my judgment
are in scales. Sometimes one preponderates,
sometimes the other. Which will finally
outweigh, time alone can reveal.” “O my cousin,
beware of the delusions of fancy! Reason must be
our guide, if we would expect durable happiness.”
At this instant a servant opened the
door, and told me that Major Sanford waited in
the parlor. Being ready, I wished Mrs. Richman
a good evening, and went down. Neither
General Richman nor his lady appeared. He
therefore handed me immediately into his phaeton,
and we were soon in the assembly room.