University of Virginia Library

LETTER VII.

Divines need not declaim, nor philosophers
expatiate on the disappointments of
human life! Are they not legibly written on every
page of our existence? Are they not predominantly
prevalent over every period of our lives?

When I closed my last letter to you, my heart
exulted in the pleasing anticipation of promised
bliss; my wishes danced on the light breezes of
hope, and my imagination dared to arrest the
attention, and even claim a return of affection
from the lovely Eliza Wharton! But imagination
only, it has proved; and that dashed with
the bitter ranklings of jealousy and suspicion.

But to resume my narrative. I reached the
mansion of my friend about four. I was disagreeably
struck with the appearance of a carriage

at the door, as it raised an idea of company
which might frustrate my plan; but still more
disagreeable were my sensations, when, on entering
the parlour, I found Major Sanford evidently
in a waiting posture. I was very politely
received; and when Eliza entered the room
with a brilliance of appearance and gaiety of
manner, which I had never before connected
with her character, I rose, as did Major Sanford
who offered his hand, and led her to a chair.
I forgot to sit down again, but stood transfixed
by the pangs of disappointment. Miss Wharton
appeared somewhat confused; but soon resuming
her vivacity, desired me to be seated;
inquired after my health, and made some common
place remarks on the weather. Then apologizing
for leaving me, gave her hand again
to Major Sanford, who had previously risen, and
reminded her that the time and their engagements
made it necessary to leave the good company;
which, indeed, they both appeared very
willing to do. General Richman and lady took
every method in their power to remove my chagrin,
and atone for the absence of my fair one,
but ill did they succeed. They told me that
Miss Wharton had not the most distant idea of
my visiting there, this afternoon; much less of
the design of my visit; that for some months
together, she had been lately confined by the
sickness of Mr. Haly, whom she attended during
the whole of his last illness; which confinement
had eventually increased her desire of indulging
her natural disposition for gaiety. She
had, however, they said, an excellent heart and
reflecting mind, a great share of sensibility, and
a temper peculiarly formed for the enjoyments
of social life. But this gentleman, madam, who
is her gallant this evening—is his character
unexceptionable? Will a lady of delicacy associate
with an immoral, not to say profligate
man? The rank and fortune of Major Sanford,
said Mrs. Richman, procure him respect.

His specious manners render him acceptable
in public company; but I must own that
he is not the person with whom I wish my cousin
to be connected, even for a moment. She
never consulted me so little on any subject as
on that of his card this morning. Before I had
time to object, she dismissed the servant; and I
forbore to destroy her expected happiness, by
acquainting her with my disapprobation of her
partner. Her omission was not design; it was
juvenile indiscretion. We must, my dear sir,
continued she, look with a candid eye on such
excentricities. Faults, not foibles, require the
severity of censure. Far, madam, be it from me
to censure any conduct, which as yet I have observed
in Miss Wharton; she has too great an
interest in my heart to admit of that.

We now went into more general conversation.
Tea was served; and I soon after took
leave. General Richman, however, insisted on
my dining with him on Thursday, which I
promised. And here I am again over head

and ears in the hypo. A disease, you will say,
peculiar to students. I believe it peculiar to
lovers; and with that class I must now rank
myself, though I did not know, until this evening,
that I was so much engaged as I find I
really am. I knew, indeed, that I was extremely
pleased with this amiablé girl; that I was
interested in her favor; that I was happier in
her company than any where else, with innumerable
other circumstances, which would have
told me the truth, had I examined them. But
be that as it may; I hope, and trust that I
am, and ever shall be a reasonable creature;
and not suffer my judgment to be misled by
the operations of a blind passion.

I shall now lay aside this subject, endeavor to
divest even my imagination of the charmer, and
return until Thursday, to the contemplation of
those truths and duties, which have a happy
tendency to calm the jarring elements which
compose our mortal frame. Adieu.