dinner, I found Mr. Boyer below. If what is sometimes said be true, that
love is diffident, reserved, and unassuming, 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 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 entitled 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 that 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.
ELIZA WHARTON.
LETTER XIII.
TO MISS ELIZA WHARTON.
HARTFORD.
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 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 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 your condescension and frankness. Act, then, with that modest
freedom, that dignified unreserve, which bespeak 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.
LUCY FREEMAN.
LETTER XIV.
TO MISS LUCY FREEMAN.
NEW HAVEN.
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 dissertation on his merits. Your letter,
likewise, had its weight; and I was candidly summoning up the _pros_ and
_cons_ in the garden, whither I had walked, (General 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, entreaties, 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 relieve 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 have 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 scrutinizing 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 leave me to the
exercise of my free will, which, perhaps, may coincide with your present
wishes." "Madam," said he, "far is the wish from me to restrain 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 in 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 Mrs. 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, my 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,
ELIZA WHARTON.
LETTER XV.
TO MISS ELIZA WHARTON.
HARTFORD.
I congratulate you, my dear Eliza, on the stability of your conduct
towards Mr. Boyer. Pursue the system which you have adopted, and I dare
say that happiness will crown your future days. You are indeed very
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 a 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 softer name. Should I own to you
that I place great confidence in his integrity and honor, you would,
perhaps, laugh at my weakness; but, my dear, I have pride enough to keep
me above coquetry or prudery, and discretion enough, I hope, to secure
me from the errors of both. With him I am 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.
LUCY FREEMAN.
LETTER XVI.
TO MISS LUCY FREEMAN.
NEW HAVEN.
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 breeze of
discord once in a while to keep it in 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 inamorato 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
bade 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 greatly
interested in the progress of the negotiation. Time 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
ELIZA WHARTON.
LETTER XVII.
TO MR. SELBY.
NEW HAVEN.
I have succeeded in my addresses to the lovely Eliza Wharton--as far,
at 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 is an animation of countenance, which betrays the sensations
of the heart, that I find wanting in hers on 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.
I am, &c.,
J. BOYER.
LETTER XVIII.
TO MR. CHARLES DEIGHTON.
NEW HAVEN.
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 of 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 rise,
are wont to do. But she is besieged by a priest--a likely lad though. I
know not how it is, 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 but shortlived. 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 wishes to share them with me, and will furnish
me with the means of supporting them, I have no objection. Could I
conform to the sober rules of wedded 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.
PETER SANFORD.
LETTER XIX.
TO MISS LUCY FREEMAN.
NEW HAVEN.
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; alleged that he found
nobody 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 then went on
rhapsodically to declare his passion; his suspicions that I was forming
a 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 not more? I replied that I
was a pensioner of friendship at present; that 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 that 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 in many particulars; yet of
malignancy and vice I am innocent. Brought up in affluence, inured from
my infancy to the gratification of every passion, the indulgence of
every wish, it is not strange that a life of dissipation and gayety
should prove alluring to a youthful mind which had no care but to
procure what is deemed enjoyment. In this pursuit I have, perhaps,
deviated from the rigid rules of discretion and the harsher laws of
morality. But let the veil of charity be drawn over my faults; let the
eye of candor impartially examine my present behavior; let the kind and
lenient hand of friendship assist in directing my future steps; and
perhaps I may not prove unworthy 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
contented, 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 choose my company, madam," said I. "Nor," said
she, "did you refuse it, I presume." "Would you not have 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
attentions 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 siren voice of flattery, nor
your eye to be caught by the phantom of gayety 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, alleging that
she was fatigued. General Richman accompanied her, and I hastened to my
apartment, where I have written thus far, and shall send it on for your
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.
ELIZA WHARTON.
LETTER XX.
TO MRS. M. WHARTON.
NEW HAVEN.