mention, at dinner, his intention of going. He attached himself to our
party, and, in the intervals of dancing, took every opportunity of
conversing with me. These, however, were not many; for Major Sanford
assiduously precluded the possibility of my being much engaged by any
one else. We passed the evening very agreeably; but the major's
importunity was rather troublesome as we returned home. He insisted upon
my declaring whether Mr. Boyer really possessed my affections, and
whether I intended to confer myself on him or not. "If," said he, "you
answer me in the affirmative, I must despair; but if you have not
absolutely decided against me, I will still hope that my persevering
assiduity, my faithful love, may at last be rewarded." I told him that I
was under no obligation to give him any account of my disposition
towards another, and that he must remember the terms of our present
association to which he had subscribed. I therefore begged him to waive
the subject now, if not forever. He asked my pardon, if he had been
impertinent, but desired leave to renew his request that I would receive
his visits, his friendly visits. I replied that I could not grant this,
and that he must blame himself, not me, if he was an unwelcome guest at
General Richman's. He lamented the prejudices which my friends had
imbibed against him, but flattered himself that I was more liberal than
to be influenced by them without any positive proof of demerit, as it
was impossible that his conduct towards me should ever deviate from the
strictest rules of honor and love.
What shall I say now, my friend? This man to an agreeable person has
superadded graceful manners, an amiable temper, and a fortune sufficient
to insure the enjoyments of all the pleasing varieties of social life.
Perhaps a gay disposition and a lax education may have betrayed him into
some scenes of dissipation. But is it not an adage generally received,
that "_a reformed rake makes the best husband_"? My fancy leads me for
happiness to the festive haunts of fashionable life. I am at present,
and know not but I ever shall be, too volatile for a confinement to
domestic avocations and sedentary pleasures. I dare not, therefore,
place myself in a situation where these must be indispensable. Mr.
Boyer's person and character are agreeable. I really esteem the man. My
reason and judgment, as I have observed before, declare for a connection
with him, as a state of tranquillity and rational happiness. But the
idea of relinquishing those delightful amusements and flattering
attentions which wealth and equipage bestow is painful. Why were not the
virtues of the one and the graces and affluence of the other combined? I
should then have been happy indeed. But, as the case now stands, I am
loath to give up either; being doubtful which will conduce most to my
felicity.
Pray write me impartially; let me know your real sentiments, for I rely
greatly upon your opinion. I am, &c.,
ELIZA WHARTON.
LETTER XXVII.
TO THE REV. MR. BOYER.
NEW HAVEN.
I am quite a convert to Pope's assertion, that
"Every woman is at heart a rake."
How else can we account for the pleasure which they evidently receive
from the society, the flattery, the caresses of men of that character?
Even the most virtuous of them seem naturally prone to gayety, to
pleasure, and, I had almost said, to dissipation. How else shall we
account for the existence of this disposition in your favorite fair? It
cannot be the result of her education. Such a one as she has received is
calculated to give her a very different turn of mind. You must forgive
me, my friend, for I am a little vexed and alarmed on your-account. I
went last evening to the assembly, as I told you in my last that I
intended. I was purposely without a partner, that I might have the
liberty to exercise my gallantry as circumstances should invite. Indeed
I must own that my particular design was to observe Miss Wharton's
movements, being rather inclined to jealousy in your behalf. She was
handed into the assembly room by Major Sanford. The brilliance of their
appearance, the levity of their manners, and the contrast of their
characters I found to be a general subject of speculation. I endeavored
to associate with Miss Wharton, but found it impossible to detach her a
moment from the coxcomb who attended her. If she has any idea of a
connection with you, why does she continue to associate with another,
especially with one of so opposite a description? I am seriously afraid
that there is more intimacy between them than there ought to be,
considering the encouragement she has given you.
I hope you will not be offended by my freedom in this matter. It
originates in a concern for your honor and future happiness. I am
anxious lest you should be made the dupe of a coquette, and your peace
of mind fall a sacrifice to an artful debauchee. Yet I must believe that
Miss Wharton has, in reality, all that virtue and good sense of which
she enjoys the reputation; but her present conduct is mysterious.
I have said enough (more than I ought, perhaps) to awaken your attention
to circumstances which _may_ lead to important events. If they appear of
little or no consequence to you, you will at least ascribe the mention
of them to motives of sincere regard in your friend and humble servant,
T. SELBY.
LETTER XXVIII.
TO MR. CHARLES DEIGHTON.
NEW HAVEN.
I go on finely with my amour. I have every encouragement that I could
wish. Indeed my fair one does not verbally declare in my favor; but
then, according to the vulgar proverb, that "_actions speak louder than
words,_" I have no reason to complain; since she evidently approves my
gallantry, is pleased with my company, and listens to my flattery. Her
sagacious friends have undoubtedly given her a detail of my vices. If,
therefore, my past conduct has been repugnant to her notions of
propriety, why does she not act consistently, and refuse at once to
associate with a man whose character she cannot esteem? But no; that,
Charles, is no part of the female plan; our entrapping a few of their
sex only discovers the gayety of our dispositions, the insinuating
graces of our manners, and the irresistible charms of our persons and
address. These qualifications are very alluring to the sprightly fancy
of the fair. They think to enjoy the pleasures which result from this
source, while their vanity and ignorance prompt each one to imagine
herself superior to delusion, and to anticipate the honor of reclaiming
the libertine and reforming the rake. I don't know, however, but this
girl will really have that merit with me; for I am so much attached to
her that I begin to suspect I should sooner become a convert to sobriety
than lose her. I cannot find that I have made much impression on her
heart as yet. Want of success in this point mortifies me extremely, as
it is the first time I ever failed. Besides, I am apprehensive that she
is prepossessed in favor of the other swain, the clerical lover, whom I
have mentioned to you before. The chord, therefore, upon which I play
the most, is the dissimilarity of their dispositions and pleasures. I
endeavor to detach her from him, and disaffect her towards him; knowing
that, if I can separate them entirely, I shall be more likely to succeed
in my plan. Not that I have any thoughts of marrying her myself; that
will not do at present. But I love her too well to see her connected
with another for life. I must own myself a little revengeful, too, in
this affair. I wish to punish her friends, as she calls them, for their
malice towards me, for their cold and negligent treatment of me whenever
I go to the house. I know that to frustrate their designs of a
connection between Mr. Boyer and Eliza would be a grievous
disappointment. I have not yet determined to seduce her, though, with
all her pretensions to virtue, I do not think it impossible. And if I
should, she can blame none but herself, since she knows my character,
and has no reason to wonder if I act consistently with it. If she will
play with a lion, let her beware of his paw, I say. At present, I wish
innocently to enjoy her society; it is a luxury which I never tasted
before. She is the very soul of pleasure. The gayest circle is
irradiated by her presence, and the highest entertainment receives its
greatest charms from her smiles. Besides, I have purchased the seat of
Captain Pribble, about a mile from her mother's; and can I think of
suffering her to leave the neighborhood just as I enter it? I shall
exert every nerve to prevent that, and hope to meet with the usual
success of
PETER SANFORD.
LETTER XXIX.
TO MISS ELIZA WHARTON.
HARTFORD.
You desire me to write to you, my friend; but if you had not, I should
by no means have refrained. I tremble at the precipice on which you
stand, and must echo and re√ęcho the seasonable admonition of the
excellent Mrs. Richman, "Beware of the delusions of fancy." You are
strangely infatuated by them! Let not the magic arts of that worthless
Sanford lead you, like an _ignis fatuus_, from the path of rectitude and
virtue.
I do not find, in all your conversations with him, that one word about
marriage drops from his lips. This is mysterious. No, it is
characteristic of the man. Suppose, however, that his views are
honorable; yet what can you expect, what can you promise yourself, from
such a connection? "A reformed rake," you say, "makes the best
husband"--a trite, but a very erroneous maxim, as the fatal experience
of thousands of our sex can testify. In the first place, I believe that
rakes very seldom _do_ reform while their fortunes and constitutions
enable them to pursue their licentious pleasures. But even allowing this
to happen; can a woman of refinement and delicacy enjoy the society of a
man whose mind has been corrupted, whose taste has been vitiated, and
who has contracted a depravity, both of sentiment and manners, which no
degree of repentance can wholly efface? Besides, of true love they are
absolutely incapable. Their passions have been much too hackneyed to
admit so pure a flame. You cannot anticipate sincere and lasting respect
from them. They have been so long accustomed to the company of those of
our sex who deserve no esteem, that the greatest dignity and purity of
character can never excite it in their breasts. They are naturally prone
to jealousy. Habituated to an intercourse with the baser part of the
sex, they level the whole, and seldom believe any to be incorruptible.
They are always hardhearted and cruel. How else could they triumph in
the miseries which they frequently occasion? Their specious manners may
render them agreeable companions abroad, but at home the evil
propensities of their minds will invariably predominate. They are
steeled against the tender affections which render domestic life
delightful; strangers to the kind, the endearing sympathies of husband,
father, and friend. The thousand nameless attentions which soften the
rugged path of life are neglected, and deemed unworthy of notice, by
persons who have been inured to scenes of dissipation and debauchery.
And is a man of this description to be the partner, the companion, the
bosom friend of my Eliza? Forbid it, Heaven! Let not the noble qualities
so lavishly bestowed upon her be thus unworthily sacrificed!
You seem to be particularly charmed with the fortune of Major Sanford,
with the gayety of his appearance, with the splendor of his equipage,
with the politeness of his manners, with what you call the graces of
his person. These, alas! are superficial, insnaring endowments. As to
fortune, prudence, economy, and regularity are necessary to preserve it
when possessed. Of these Major Sanford is certainly destitute--unless
common fame (which more frequently tells the truth than some are willing
to allow) does him great injustice. As to external parade, it will not
satisfy the rational mind when it aspires to those substantial pleasures
for which yours is formed. And as to the graces of person and manners,
they are but a wretched substitute for those virtues which adorn and
dignify human life. Can you, who have always been used to serenity and
order in a family, to rational, refined, and improving conversation,
relinquish them, and launch into the whirlpool of frivolity, where the
correct taste and the delicate sensibility which you possess must
constantly be wounded by the frothy and illiberal sallies of licentious
wit?
This, my dear, is but a faint picture of the situation to which you seem
inclined. Reverse the scene, and you will perceive the alternative which
is submitted to your option in a virtuous connection with Mr. Boyer.
Remember that you are acting for life, and that your happiness in this
world, perhaps in the next, depends on your present choice.
I called last evening to see your mamma. She is fondly anticipating
your return, and rejoicing in the prospect of your agreeable and speedy
settlement. I could not find it in my heart to distress her by
intimating that you had other views. I wish her benevolent bosom
nevermore to feel the pangs of disappointed hope.
I am busily engaged in preparing for my nuptials. The solemn words, "As
long as ye both shall live," render me thoughtful and serious. I hope
for your enlivening presence soon, which will prove a seasonable cordial
to the spirits of your
LUCY FREEMAN.
LETTER XXX.
TO MISS LUCY FREEMAN.
NEW HAVEN.
I believe your spirits need a cordial indeed, my dear Lucy, after
drawing so dreadful a portrait of my swain. But I call him mine no
longer. I renounce him entirely. My friends shall be gratified; and if
their predictions are verified, I shall be happy in a union with a man
of their choice. General Richman and lady have labored abundantly to
prove that my ruin was inevitable if I did not immediately break all
intercourse with Major Sanford. I promised a compliance with their
wishes, and have accomplished the task, though a hard one I found it.
Last Thursday he was here, and desired leave to spend an hour with me. I
readily consented, assuring my friends it should be the last hour which
I would ever spend in his company.
He told me that he was obliged to leave town for a few days; and as I
should probably see Mr. Boyer before his return, he could not depart in
peace without once more endeavoring to interest me in his favor, to
obtain some token of esteem, some glimpse of hope that I would not
utterly reject him, to support him in his absence. I thanked him for the
polite attention he had paid me since our acquaintance, told him that I
should ever retain a grateful sense of his partiality to me, that he
would ever share my best wishes, but that all connection of the kind to
which he alluded must from that time forever cease.
He exerted all his eloquence to obtain a retraction of that sentence,
and ran with the greatest volubility through all the protestations,
prayers, entreaties, professions, and assurances which love could feel
or art contrive. I had resolution, however, to resist them, and to
command my own emotions on the occasion better than my natural
sensibility gave me reason to expect.
Finding every effort vain, he rose precipitately, and bade me adieu. I
urged his tarrying to tea; but he declined, saying that he must retire
to his chamber, being, in his present state of mind, unfit for any
society, as he was banished from mine. I offered him my hand, which he
pressed with ardor to his lips, and, bowing in silence, left the room.
Thus terminated this affair--an affair which, perhaps, was only the
effect of mere gallantry on his part, and of unmeaning pleasantry on
mine, and which, I am sorry to say, has given my friends so much anxiety
and concern. I am under obligations to them for their kind solicitude,
however causeless it may have been.
As an agreeable companion, as a polite and finished gallant, Major
Sanford is all that the most lively fancy could wish. And as you have
always affirmed that I was a little inclined to coquetry, can you wonder
at my exercising it upon so happy a subject? Besides, when I thought
more seriously, his liberal fortune was extremely alluring to me, who,
you know, have been hitherto confined to the rigid rules of prudence and
economy, not to say necessity, in my finances.
Miss Lawrence called on me yesterday, as she was taking the air, and
asked me whether Major Sanford took leave of me when he left town. "He
was here last week," said I, "but I did not know that he was gone away."
"O, yes," she replied, "he is gone to take possession of his seat which
he has lately purchased of Captain Pribble. I am told it is superb; and
it ought to be, if it has the honor of his residence." "Then you have a
great opinion of Major Sanford," said I. "Certainly; and has not every
body else?" said she. "I am sure he is a very fine gentleman." Mrs.
Richman smiled rather contemptuously, and I changed the subject. I
believe that the innocent heart of this simple girl is a little taken
in.
I have just received a letter from Mr. Boyer in the usual style. He
expects the superlative happiness of kissing my hand next week. O, dear!
I believe I must begin to fix my phiz. Let me run to the glass, and try
if I can make up one that will look _madamish_. Yes, I succeeded very
well.
I congratulate you on your new neighbor; but I advise friend George to
have the Gordian knot tied immediately, lest you should be insnared by
this bewitching squire.
I have been trying to seduce General Richman to accompany me to the
assembly this evening, but cannot prevail. Were Mrs. Richman able to go
with us, he would be very happy to wait on us together; but, to tell the
truth, he had rather enjoy her company at home than any which is to be
found abroad. I rallied him on his old-fashioned taste, but my heart
approved and applauded his attachment. I despise the married man or
woman who harbors an inclination to partake of separate pleasures.
I am told that a servant man inquires for me below--the messenger of
some enamoured swain, I suppose. I will step down and learn what message
he brings.
Nothing extraordinary; it is only a card of compliments from a Mr.
Emmons, a respectable merchant of this city, requesting the honor to
wait on me to the assembly this evening--a welcome request, which I made
no hesitation to grant. If I must resign these favorite amusements, let
me enjoy as large a share as possible till the time arrives. I must
repair to the toilet, and adorn for a new conquest the person of
ELIZA WHARTON.
LETTER XXXI.
TO MISS ELIZA WHARTON.
HARTFORD.
I am very happy to find you are in so good spirits, Eliza, after parting
with your favorite swain; for I perceive that he is really the favorite
of your fancy, though your heart cannot esteem him; and, independent of
that, no sensations can be durable.
I can tell you some news of this strange man. He has arrived, and taken
possession of his seat. Having given general invitations, he has been
called upon and welcomed by most of the neighboring gentry. Yesterday he
made an elegant entertainment. Friend George (as you call him) and I
were of the number who had cards. Twenty-one couple went, I am told. We
did not go. I consider my time too valuable to be spent in cultivating
acquaintance with a person from whom neither pleasure nor improvement is
to be expected. His profuseness may bribe the unthinking multitude to
show him respect; but he must know that, though
"Places and honors have been bought for gold,
Esteem and love were never to be sold."
I look upon the vicious habits and abandoned character of Major Sanford
to have more pernicious effects on society than the perpetrations of the
robber and the assassin. These, when detected, are rigidly punished by
the laws of the land. If their lives be spared, they are shunned by
society, and treated with every mark of disapprobation and contempt.
But, to the disgrace of humanity and virtue, the assassin of honor, the
wretch who breaks the peace of families, who robs virgin innocence of
its charms, who triumphs over the ill-placed confidence of the
inexperienced, unsuspecting, and too credulous fair, is received and
caressed, not only by his own sex, to which he is a reproach, but even
by ours, who have every conceivable reason to despise and avoid him.
Influenced by these principles, I am neither ashamed nor afraid openly
to avow my sentiments of this man, and my reasons for treating him with
the most pointed neglect.
I write warmly on the subject; for it is a subject in which I think the
honor and happiness of my sex concerned. I wish they would more
generally espouse their own cause. It would conduce to the public, weal,
and to their personal respectability. I rejoice, heartily, that you have
had resolution to resist his allurements, to detect and repel his
artifices. Resolution in such a case is absolutely necessary; for,
"In spite of all the virtue we can boast,
The woman that deliberates is lost."
As I was riding out yesterday I met your mamma. She wondered that I was
not one of the party at our new neighbor's. "The reason, madam," said I,
"is, that I do not like the character of the man." "I know nothing of
him," said she; "he is quite a stranger to me, only as he called at my
house last week to pay me his respects, as he said, for the sake of my
late husband, whose memory he revered, and because I was the mother of
Miss Eliza Wharton, with whom he had the honor of some little
acquaintance. His manners are engaging, and I am sorry to hear that his
morals are corrupt."
This, my dear, is a very extraordinary visit. I fear that he has not yet
laid aside his arts. Be still on your guard, is the advice of your
sincere and faithful friend,
LUCY FREEMAN.
LETTER XXXII.
TO MR. CHARLES DEIGHTON.
HARTFORD.
I am really banished and rejected--desired nevermore to think of the
girl I love with a view of indulging that love or of rendering it
acceptable to its object. You will perhaps dispute the propriety of the
term, and tell me it is not love--it is only gallantry, and a desire to
exercise it with her as a favorite nymph. I neither know nor care by
what appellation you distinguish it; but it truly gives me pain. I have
not felt one sensation of genuine pleasure since I heard my sentence;
yet I acquiesced in it, and submissively took my leave; though I doubt
not but I shall retaliate the indignity one time or other.
I have taken possession of my new purchase--an elegant and delightful
residence. It is rendered more so by being in the vicinity of my
charmer's native abode. This circumstance will conduce much to my
enjoyment, if I can succeed in my plan of separating her from Mr. Boyer.
I know that my situation and mode of life are far more pleasing to her
than his, and shall therefore trust to my appearance and address for a
re√ęstablishment in her favor. I intend, if possible, to ingratiate
myself with her particular friends. For this purpose I called last week
at her mother's to pay my respects to her (so I told the good woman) as
an object of my particular regard, and as the parent of a young lady
whom I had the honor to know and admire. She received me very civilly,
thanked me for my attention, and invited me to call whenever I had
opportunity; which was the very thing I wanted. I intend, likewise, to
court popularity. I don't know but I must accept, by and by, some
lucrative office in the civil department; yet I cannot bear the idea of
confinement to business. It appears to me quite inconsistent with the
character of a gentleman; I am sure it is with that of a man of
pleasure. But something I must do; for I tell you, in confidence, that I
was obliged to mortgage this place because I had not wherewithal to pay
for it. But I shall manage matters very well, I have no doubt, and keep
up the appearance of affluence till I find some lady in a strait for a
husband whose fortune will enable me to extricate myself from these
embarrassments. Do come and see me, Charles; for, notwithstanding all my
gayety and parade, I have some turns of the hypo, some qualms of
conscience, you will call them; but I meddle not with such obsolete
words. And so good by to you, says
PETER SANFORD.
LETTER XXXIII.
TO MISS LUCY FREEMAN.
NEW HAVEN.
My dear friend: I believe I must begin to assume airs of gravity; and
they will not be quite so foreign to my feelings now as at some other
times. You shall know the reason. I have been associated for three days
with sentiment and sobriety in the person of Mr. Boyer. I don't know but
this man will seduce me into matrimony. He is very eloquent upon the
subject; and his manners are so solemn that I am strongly tempted--yet I
dare not--to laugh. Really, Lucy, there is something extremely engaging,
and soothing, too, in virtuous and refined conversation. It is a source
of enjoyment which cannot be realized by the dissolute and unreflecting.
But then this particular theme of his is not a favorite one to me; I
mean as connected with its consequences--care and confinement. However,
I have compounded the matter with him, and conditioned that he shall
expatiate on the subject, and call it by what name he pleases,
_platonic_ or _conjugal_, provided he will let me take my own time for
the consummation. I have consented that he shall escort me next week to
see my mamma and my Lucy. O, how the idea of returning to that revered
mansion, to those beloved friends, exhilarates my spirits!