_To Henry Colden_
Philadelphia, October 28.
O my friend! Where are you at this trying moment? Why did you desert
me? Now, if ever, does my feeble heart stand in need of your counsel and
courage.
Did I ever lean these throbbing brows against your arm and pour my
tears into your bosom, that I was not comforted? Never did that adored
voice fail to whisper sweet peace to my soul. In every storm, thy calmer
and more strenuous spirit has provided me the means of safety. But now I
look around for my stay, my monitor, my encourager, in vain.
You will make haste to despatch the business that detains you. You will
return, and fly, on the wings of love, to thy Jane. Alas! she will not be
found. She will have fled far away, and in her stead will she leave this
sullen messenger to tell thee that thy Jane has parted from thee
forever!
Do not upbraid me, Hal. Do not call me ungrateful or rash. Indeed, I
shall not be able to bear thy reproaches. I know they will kill me
quite.
And don't expostulate with me. Confirm me rather in my new resolution.
Even if you think it cruel or absurd, aver that it is just. Persuade me
that I have done my duty to my mother, and assure me of your cheerful
acquiescence.
Too late is it now, even if I would, to recall my promise.
I have promised to part with you. In the first tumult of my soul, on
receiving the enclosed letters, I wrote an answer, assuring Mrs. Fielder
of my absolute concurrence with her will.
Already does my heart, calling up thy beloved image; reflecting on the
immense debt which I owe to your generosity, on the disappointment which
the tidings of my journey will give you; already do I repent of my
precipitation.
I have sought repose, but I find it not. My pillow is moist with the
bitterest tears that I ever shed. To give vent to my swelling heart, I
write to you; but I must now stop. All my former self is coming back upon
me, and, while I think of you as of my true and only friend, I shall be
unable to persist. I will not part with thee, my friend. I cannot do it.
Has not my life been solemnly devoted to compensate thee for thy unmerited
love? For the crosses and vexations thou hast endured for my sake?
Why shall I forsake thee? To gratify a wayward and groundless
prejudice. To purchase the short-lived and dubious affection of one who
loves me in proportion as I am blind to thy merit; as I forget thy
benefits; as I countenance the envy and slander that pursue thee.
Yet what shall I bring to thy arms? A blasted reputation, poverty,
contempt, the indignation of mine and of thy friends. For thou art poor,
and so am I. Thy kindred have antipathies for me as strong as those that
are fostered against thyself----