party of those gentlemen and ladies who have been particularly attentive
to me during my residence here to dine and take tea to-morrow. After
that, I expect to be engaged in making farewell visits till I leave the
place. I shall, therefore, forego the pleasure of telling you any
occurrences subsequent to this date until you see and converse with your
sincere friend,
ELIZA WHARTON.
LETTER XXXIV.
TO MRS. RICHMAN.
HARTFORD.
Dear madam: The day after I left your hospitable dwelling brought me
safe to that of my honored mamma; to the seat of maternal and filial
affection; of social ease and domestic peace; of every species of
happiness which can result from religion and virtue, from refinement in
morals and manners.
I found my brother and his wife, with Lucy Freeman and Mr. Sumner,
waiting to receive and bid me welcome. I flew with ecstasy to the bosom
of my mamma, who received me with her accustomed affection, testified by
the expressive tears of tenderness which stole silently down her widowed
cheek. She was unable to speak. I was equally so. We therefore indulged
a moment the pleasing emotions of sympathizing sensibility. When
disengaged from her fond embrace, I was saluted by the others in turn;
and, having recovered myself, I presented Mr. Boyer to each of the
company, and each of the company to him. He was cordially received by
all, but more especially by my mamma.
The next day I was called upon and welcomed by several of my neighboring
acquaintance; among whom I was not a little surprised to see Major
Sanford. He came in company with Mr. Stoddard and lady, whom he
overtook, as he told me, near by; and, as they informed him that the
design of their visit was to welcome me home, he readily accepted their
invitation to partake of the pleasure which every one must receive on my
return. I bowed slightly at his compliment, taking no visible notice of
any peculiarity of expression either in his words or looks.
His politeness to Mr. Boyer appeared to be the result of habit; Mr.
Boyer's to him to be forced by respect to the company to which he had
gained admission. I dare say that each felt a conscious superiority--the
one on the score of merit, the other on that of fortune. Which ought to
outweigh the judicious mind will easily decide. The scale, as I once
observed to you, will turn as fancy or reason preponderates. I believe
the esteem which I now have for Mr. Boyer will keep me steady; except,
perhaps, some little eccentricities now and then, just by way of
variety. I am going to-morrow morning to spend a few days with Lucy
Freeman, to assist in the preparation for, and the solemnization of, her
nuptials. Mr. Boyer, in the mean time, will tarry among his friends in
town. My mamma is excessively partial to him, though I am not yet
jealous that she means to rival me. I am not certain, however, but it
might be happy for him if she should; for I suspect, not withstanding
the disparity of her age, that she is better calculated to make him a
good wife than I am or ever shall be.
But to be sober. Please, madam, to make my compliments acceptable to
those of your neighbors, whose politeness and attention to me while at
your house have laid me under particular obligations of gratitude and
respect. My best regards attend General Richman. Pray tell him that,
though I never expect to be so good a wife as he is blessed with, yet I
intend, after a while, (when I have sowed all my wild oats,) to make a
tolerable one.
I am anxious to hear of a wished-for event, and of your safety. All who
know you feel interested in your health and happiness, but none more
warmly than your obliged and affectionate
ELIZA WHARTON.
LETTER XXXV.
TO MISS ELIZA WHARTON.
NEW HAVEN.
I write a line, at Mrs. Richman's request, just to inform you, Eliza,
that, yesterday, that lovely and beloved woman presented me with a
daughter. This event awakens new sensations in my mind, and calls into
exercise a kind of affection which had before lain dormant. I feel
already the tenderness of a parent, while imagination fondly traces the
mother's likeness in the infant form. Mrs. Richman expects to receive
your congratulations in a letter by the next post. She bids me tell
you, moreover, that she hopes soon to receive an invitation, and be able
to attend, to the consummation you talk of. Give Mrs. Richman's and my
particular regards to your excellent mother and to the worthy Mr. Boyer.
With sentiments of esteem and friendship, I am, &c.,
S. RICHMAN.
LETTER XXXVI.
TO MRS. RICHMAN.
HARTFORD.
From the scenes of festive mirth, from the conviviality of rejoicing
friends, and from the dissipating amusements of the gay world, I retire
with alacrity, to hail my beloved friend on the important charge which
she has received; on the accession to her family, and, may I not say, on
the addition to her care? since that care will be more than
counterbalanced by the pleasure it confers. Hail, happy babe! ushered
into the world by the best of mothers; entitled by birthright to virtue
and honor; defended by parental love from the weakness of infancy and
childhood, by guardian wisdom from the perils of youth, and by affluent
independence from the griping hand of poverty in more advanced life! May
these animating prospects be realized by your little daughter, and may
you long enjoy the rich reward of seeing her all that you wish.
Yesterday, my dear friend, Lucy Freeman, gave her hand to the amiable
and accomplished Mr. George Sumner. A large circle of congratulating
friends were present. Her dress was such as wealth and elegance
required. Her deportment was every thing that modesty and propriety
could suggest. They are, indeed, a charming couple. The consonance of
their dispositions, the similarity of their tastes, and the equality of
their ages are a sure pledge of happiness. Every eye beamed with
pleasure on the occasion, and every tongue echoed the wishes of
benevolence. Mine only was silent. Though not less interested in the
felicity of my friend than the rest, yet the idea of a separation,
perhaps of an alienation of affection, by means of her entire devotion
to another, cast an involuntary gloom over my mind. Mr. Boyer took my
hand after the ceremony was past. "Permit me, Miss Wharton," said he,
"to lead you to your lovely friend; her happiness must be heightened by
your participation of it." "O, no," said I, "I am too selfish for that.
She has conferred upon another that affection which I wished to engross.
My love was too fervent to admit a rival." "Retaliate, then," said he,
"this fancied wrong by doing likewise." I observed that this was not a
proper time to discuss that subject, and, resuming my seat, endeavored
to put on the appearance of my accustomed vivacity. I need not relate
the remaining particulars of-the evening's entertainment. Mr. Boyer
returned with my mamma, and I remained at Mrs. Freeman's.
We are to have a ball here this evening. Mr. Boyer has been with us, and
tried to monopolize my company; but in vain. I am too much engaged by
the exhilarating scenes around for attending to a subject which affords
no variety. I shall not close this till to-morrow.
I am rather fatigued with the amusements of last night, which were
protracted to a late hour. Mr. Boyer was present; and I was pleased to
see him not averse to the entertainment, though his profession prevented
him from taking an active part. As all the neighboring gentry were
invited, Mr. Freeman would by no means omit Major Sanford, which his
daughter earnestly solicited. It happened (unfortunately, shall I say?)
that I drew him for a partner. Yet I must own that I felt very little
reluctance to my lot. He is an excellent dancer, and well calculated for
a companion in the hours of mirth and gayety. I regretted Mr. Boyer's
being present, however, because my enjoyment seemed to give him pain. I
hope he is not inclined to the passion of jealousy. If he is, I fear it
will be somewhat exercised.
Lucy Freeman, now Mrs. Sumner, removes next week to Boston. I have
agreed to accompany her, and spend a month or two in her family. This
will give variety to the journey of life. Be so kind as to direct your
next letter to me there.
Kiss the dear little babe for me. Give love, compliments, &c., as
respectively due; and believe me, with every sentiment of respect, your
affectionate
ELIZA WHARTON.
LETTER XXXVII.
TO MR. CHARLES DEIGHTON.
HARTFORD.
Dear Charles: My hopes begin to revive. I am again permitted to
associate with my Eliza--invited to the same entertainment. She does not
refuse to join with me in the mazy dance, and partake the scenes of
festive mirth. Nay, more; she allows me to press her hand to my lips,
and listens to the sighing accents of love. Love her I certainly do.
Would to Heaven I could marry her! Would to Heaven I had preserved my
fortune, or she had one to supply its place! I am distracted at the idea
of losing her forever. I am sometimes tempted to solicit her hand in
serious earnest; but if I should, poverty and want must be the
consequence. Her disappointment in the expectation of affluence and
splendor, which I believe her ruling passion, would afford a perpetual
source of discontent and mutual wretchedness.
She is going to Boston with her friend, Mrs. Sumner. I must follow her.
I must break the connection which is rapidly forming between her and Mr.
Boyer, and enjoy her society a while longer, if no more.
I have had a little intimation from New Haven that Miss Lawrence is
partial to me, and might easily be obtained, with a handsome property
into the bargain. I am neither pleased with nor averse to the girl; but
she has money, and that may supply the place of love, by enabling me to
pursue independent pleasures. This she must expect, if she marries a man
of my cast. She, doubtless, knows my character; and if she is so vain of
her charms or influence as to think of reforming or confining me, she
must bear the consequences.
However, I can keep my head up at present without recourse to the noose
of matrimony, and shall therefore defer any particular attention to her
till necessity requires it. I am, &c.,
PETER SANFORD.
LETTER XXXVIII.
TO MRS. M. WHARTON.
BOSTON.
You commanded me, my dear mamma, to write to you. That command I
cheerfully obey, in testimony of my ready submission and respect. No
other avocation could arrest my time, which is now completely occupied
in scenes of amusement.
Mrs. Sumner is agreeably settled and situated. She appears to be
possessed of every blessing which can render life desirable. Almost
every day since our arrival has been engrossed by visitants. Our
evenings we have devoted to company abroad; and that more generally than
we should otherwise have done, as my stay is limited to so short a
period. The museum, the theatres, the circus, and the assemblies have
been frequented.
Mrs. Sumner has made me several presents; notwithstanding which, the
articles requisite to a fashionable appearance have involved me in
considerable expense. I fear that you will think me extravagant when you
are told how much.
Mr. Boyer tarried in town about a week, having business. He appeared a
little concerned at my taste for dissipation, as he once termed it. He
even took the liberty to converse seriously on the subject.
I was displeased with his freedom, and reminded him that I had the
disposal of my own time as yet, and that, while I escaped the censure of
my own heart, I hoped that no one else would presume to arraign it. He
apologized, and gave up his argument.
I was much surprised, the first time I went to the play, to see Major
Sanford in the very next box. He immediately joined our party; and
wherever I have been since, I have been almost sure to meet him.
Mr. Boyer has taken his departure; and I do not expect to see him again
till I return home.
O mamma, I am embarrassed about this man. His worth I acknowledge; nay,
I esteem him very highly. But can there be happiness with such a
disparity of dispositions?
I shall soon return to the bosom of domestic tranquillity, to the arms
of maternal tenderness, where I can deliberate and advise at leisure
about this important matter. Till when, I am, &c.,
ELIZA WHARTON.
LETTER XXXIX.
TO MR. T. SELBY.
HAMPSHIRE.
Dear sir: I believe that I owe you an apology for my long silence. But
my time has been much engrossed of late, and my mind much more so. When
it will be otherwise I cannot foresee. I fear, my friend, that there is
some foundation for your suspicions respecting my beloved Eliza. What
pity it is that so fair a form, so accomplished a mind, should be
tarnished in the smallest degree by the follies of coquetry! If this be
the fact, which I am loath to believe, all my regard for her shall never
make me the dupe of it.
When I arrived at her residence at New Haven, where I told you in my
last I was soon to go, she gave me a most cordial reception. Her whole
behavior to me was correspondent with those sentiments of esteem and
affection which she modestly avowed. She permitted me to accompany her
to Hartford, to restore her to her mother, and to declare my wish to
receive her again from her hand. Thus far all was harmony and happiness.
As all my wishes were consistent with virtue and honor, she readily
indulged them. She took apparent pleasure in my company, encouraged my
hopes of a future union, and listened to the tender accents of love.
But the scenes of gayety which invited her attention reversed her
conduct. The delightful hours of mutual confidence, of sentimental
converse, and of the interchange of refined affection were no more.
Instead of these, parties were formed unpleasing to my taste, and every
opportunity was embraced to join in diversions in which she knew I could
not consistently take a share. I, however, acquiesced in her pleasure,
though I sometimes thought myself neglected, and even hinted it to her
mother. The old lady apologized for her daughter, by alleging that she
had been absent for a long time; that her acquaintances were rejoiced
at her return, and welcomed her by striving to promote her amusement.
One of her most intimate friends was married during my stay, and she
appeared deeply interested in the event. She spent several days in
assisting her previous to the celebration. I resided, in the mean time,
at her mamma's, visiting her at her friend's, where Major Sanford, among
others, was received as a guest. Mrs. Sumner acquainted me that she had
prevailed on Miss Wharton to go and spend a few weeks with her at
Boston, whither she was removing, and urged my accompanying them. I
endeavored to excuse myself, as I had been absent from my people a
considerable time, and my return was now expected. But their importunity
was so great, and Eliza's declaration that it would be very agreeable to
her so tempting, that I consented. Here I took lodgings, and spent about
a week, taking every opportunity to converse with Eliza, striving to
discover her real disposition towards me. I mentioned the inconvenience
of visiting her so often as I wished, and suggested my desire to enter,
as soon as might be, into a family relation. I painted, in the most
alluring colors, the pleasures resulting from domestic tranquillity,
mutual confidence, and conjugal affection, and insisted on her declaring
frankly whether she designed to share this happiness with me, and when
it should commence. She owned that she intended to give me her hand,
but when she should be ready she could not yet determine. She pretended
a promise from me to wait her time, to consent that she should share the
pleasures of the fashionable world as long as she chose, &c.
I then attempted to convince her of her mistaken ideas of pleasure; that
the scenes of dissipation, of which she was so passionately fond,
afforded no true enjoyment; that the adulation of the coxcomb could not
give durability to her charms, or secure the approbation of the wise and
good; nor could the fashionable amusements of brilliant assemblies and
crowded theatres furnish the mind with
"That which nothing earthly gives or can destroy--
The soul's calm sunshine and the heartfelt joy."
These friendly suggestions, I found, were considered as the theme of a
priest, and my desire to detach her from such empty pursuits as the
selfishness of a lover. She was even offended at my freedom, and warmly
affirmed that no one had a right to arraign her conduct. I mentioned
Major Sanford, who was then in town, and who (though she went to places
of public resort with Mr. and Mrs. Sumner) always met and gallanted her
home. She rallied me upon my jealousy, as she termed it, wished that I
would attend her myself, and then she should need no other gallant. I
answered that I had rather resign that honor to another, but wished, for
her sake, that he might be a gentleman whose character would not
disgrace the company with which he associated. She appeared mortified
and chagrined in the extreme. However, she studiously suppressed her
emotions, and even soothed me with the blandishments of female softness.
We parted amicably. She promised to return soon and prepare for a
compliance with my wishes. I cannot refuse to believe her. I cannot
cease to love her. My heart is in her possession. She has a perfect
command of my passions. Persuasion dwells on her tongue. With all the
boasted fortitude and resolution of our sex, we are but mere machines.
Let love once pervade our breasts, and its object may mould us into any
form that pleases her fancy, or even caprice.
I have just received a letter from Eliza, informing me of her return to
Hartford. To-morrow I shall set out on a visit to the dear girl; for, my
friend, notwithstanding all her foibles, she is very dear to me. Before
you hear from me again I expect that the happy day will be fixed--the
day which shall unite in the-most sacred bands this lovely maid and your
faithful friend,
J. BOYER.
LETTER XL.
TO MR. T. SELBY.
HAMPSHIRE.
I have returned; and the day, indeed, is fixed; but O, how different
from my fond expectations! It is not the day of union, but the day of
final separation; the day which divides me from my charmer; the day
which breaks asunder the bands of love; the day on which my reason
assumes its empire, and triumphs over the arts of a finished coquette.
Congratulate me, my friend, that I have thus overcome my feelings, and
repelled the infatuating wiles of a deceitful girl. I would not be
understood to impeach Miss Wharton's virtue; I mean her chastity.
Virtue, in the common acceptation of the term, as applied to the sex, is
confined to that particular, you know. But in my view, this is of little
importance where all other virtues are wanting.
When I arrived at Mrs. Wharton's, and inquired for Eliza, I was told
that she had rode out, but was soon expected home. An hour after, a
phaeton stopped at the door, from which my fair one alighted, and was
handed into the house by Major Sanford, who immediately took leave. I
met her, and offered my hand, which she received with apparent
tenderness.
When the family had retired after supper, and left us to talk on our
particular affairs, I found the same indecision, the same loathness to
bring our courtship to a period, as formerly. Her previous excuses were
renewed, and her wishes to have a union still longer delayed were
zealously urged. She could not bear the idea of confinement to the cares
of a married life at present, and begged me to defer all solicitation on
that subject to some future day. I found my temper rise, and told her
plainly that I was not thus to be trifled with; that if her regard for
me was sincere, if she really intended to form a connection with me, she
could not thus protract the time, try my patience, and prefer every
other pleasure to the rational interchange of affection, to the calm
delights of domestic life. But in vain did I argue against her false
notions of happiness, in vain did I represent the dangerous system of
conduct which she now pursued, and urge her to accept, before it was too
late, the hand and heart which were devoted to her service. That, she
said, she purposed ere long to do, and hoped amply to reward my faithful
love; but she could not fix the time this evening. She must consider a
little further, and likewise consult her mother. "Is it not Major
Sanford whom you wish to consult, madam?" said I. She blushed, and gave
me no answer. "Tell me, Eliza," I continued, "tell me frankly, if he has
not supplanted me in your affections--if he be not the cause of my being
thus evasively, thus cruelly, treated." "Major Sanford, sir," replied
she, "has done you no harm. He is a particular friend of mine, a polite
gentleman, and an agreeable neighbor, and therefore I treat him with
civility; but he is not so much interested in my concerns as to alter my
disposition towards any other person." "Why," said I, "do you talk of
friendship with a man of his character? Between his society and mine
there is a great contrast. Such opposite pursuits and inclinations
cannot be equally pleasing to the same taste. It is, therefore,
necessary that you renounce the one to enjoy the other; I will give you
time to decide which. I am going to a friend's house to spend the night,
and will call on you to-morrow, if agreeable, and converse with you
further upon the matter." She bowed assent, and I retired.
The next afternoon I went, as agreed, and found her mamma and her alone
in the parlor. She was very pensive, and appeared to have been in tears.
The sight affected me. The idea of having treated her harshly the
evening before disarmed me of my resolution to insist on her decision
that day. I invited her to ride with me and visit a friend, to which
she readily consented. We spent our time agreeably. I forbore to press
her on the subject of our future union, but strove rather to soothe her
mind, and inspire her with sentiments of tenderness towards me. I
conducted her home, and returned early in the evening to my friend's,
who met me at the door, and jocosely told me that he expected that I
should now rob them of their agreeable neighbor. "But," added he, "we
have been apprehensive that you would be rivalled if you delayed your
visit much longer." "I did not suspect a rival," said I. "Who can the
happy man be?" "I can say nothing from personal observation," said he;
"but fame, of late, has talked loudly of Major Sanford and Miss Wharton.
Be not alarmed," continued he, seeing me look grave; "I presume no harm
is intended; the major is a man of gallantry, and Miss Wharton is a gay
lady; but I dare say that your connection will be happy, _if it be
formed_" I noticed a particular emphasis on the word _if_; and, as we
were alone, I followed him with questions till the whole affair was
developed. I informed him of my embarrassment, and he gave me to
understand that Eliza's conduct had, for some time past, been a subject
of speculation in the town; that, formerly, her character was highly
esteemed; but that her intimacy with a man of Sanford's known
libertinism, more especially as she was supposed to be engaged to
another, had rendered her very censurable; that they were often
together; that wherever she went he was sure to follow, as if by
appointment; that they walked, talked, sung, and danced together in all
companies; that some supposed he he would marry her; others, that he
only meditated adding her name to the black catalogue of deluded
wretches, whom he had already ruined!
I rose, and walked the room in great agitation. He apologized for his
freedom; was sorry if he had wounded my feelings; but friendship alone
had induced him frankly to declare the truth, that I might guard against
duplicity and deceit.
I thanked him for his kind intensions; and assured him that I should not
quit the town till I had terminated this affair, in one way or another.