_To Mr. Colden_
December 11.
Hereafter I shall be astonished at nothing but that credulity which
could give even momentary credit to your assertions.
Most fortunately, my belief lasted only till you left the house. Then
my scruples, which slept for a moment, revived, and I determined to clear
up my doubts by immediately calling on Miss Jessup.
If any thing can exceed your depravity, sir, it is your folly. But I
will not debase myself: my indignation at being made the subject, and, for
some minutes, the dupe, of so gross and so profligate an artifice, carries
me beyond all bounds. What, sir!--But I will restrain myself.
I would not leave the city without apprizing you of this detection of
your schemes. If Miss Jessup were wise, she would seek a just revenge for
so atrocious a slander.
I need not tell you that I have seen her; laid the letter before her
which you delivered to me; nor do I need to tell _you_ what her anger
and amazement were on finding her name thus abused.
I pity you, sir; I grieve for you: you have talents of a certain kind,
but your habits, wretchedly and flagitiously perverse, have made you act
on most occasions like an idiot. Their iniquity was not sufficient to
deter you from impostures which--but I scorn to chide you.
My daughter is a monument of the success of your schemes. But their
success shall never be complete. While I live, she shall never join her
interests with yours. That is a vow which, I thank God, I am able to
accomplish; _and shall_.