TO MISS ELIZA WHARTON.
Enclosed in the foregoing.
Hartford.
MADAM,
Fearing, that my resolution may
not be proof against the eloquence of those
charms, which have so long commanded me, I
take this method of bidding you a final adieu.
I write not as a lover. That connection between
us is for ever dissolved; but I address you as a
friend; a friend to your happiness, to your reputation,
to your temporal and eternal welfare.
I will not rehearse the innumerable instances of
your imprudence and misconduct, which have
fallen under my observation. Your own heart
must be your monitor! suffice it for me to warn
you against the dangerous tendency of so diffipated
a life; and to tell you that I have traced
(I believe aright) the cause of your dissimulation
and indifference to me. They are an aversion
to the sober, rational, frugal mode of
living, to which my profession leads; a fondness
for the parade, the gaiety, not to say, the
licentiousness of a station calculated to gratify
such a disposition; and a prepossession for Major
Sanford, infused into your giddy mind by
the frippery, flattery and artifice of that worthless
and abandoned man. Hence you preferred
a connection with him, if it could be accomplished;
but a doubt, whether it could,
together with the advice of your friends, who
have kindly espoused my cause, have restrained
you from the avowal of your real sentiments,
and led you to continue your civilities to me.
What the result of your coquetry would have
been, had I waired for it, I cannot say, nor have
I now any desire or interest to know. I tear
from my breast the idea which I have long
cherished of future union and happiness with
you in the conjugal state. I bid a last farewell
to these fond hopes, and leave you for
ever!
For your own sake, however, let me conjure
you to review your conduct, and before you
have advanced beyond the possibility of returning
to rectitude and honor, to restrain your
steps from the dangerous path in which you
now tread!
Fly Major Sanford. That man is a deceiver.
Trust not his professions. They are certainly
insincere; or he would not affect concealment;
he would not induce you to a clandestine intercourse!
Many have been the victims of his
treachery! O Eliza! add not to the number!
Banish him from your society, if you wish to
preserve your virtue unsullied, your character
unsuspicious! It already begins to depreciate.
Snatch it from the envenomed tongue of slander,
before it receive an incurable wound!
Many faults have been visible to me; over
which my affection once drew a veil. That
veil is now removed. And, acting the part of
a disinterested friend, I shall mention some few
of them with freedom. There is a levity in
your manners, which is inconsistent with the
solidity and decorum becoming a lady who has
arrived to years of discretion. There is also an
unwarrantable extravagance betrayed in your
dress. Prudence and economy are such necessary,
at least, such decent virtues, that they
claim the attention of every female, whatever
be her station or her property. To these virtues
you are apparently inattentive. Too
large a portion of your time is devoted to the
adorning of your person.
Think not that I write thus plainly from
resentment. No; It is from benevolence. I
mention your foibles, not to reproach you with
them, but that you may consider their nature
and effects, and renounce them.
I wish you to regard this letter as the legacy
of a friend; and to improve it accordingly. I
shall leave town before you receive it. O, how
different are my sensations at going, from
what they were when I came! but I forbear
description.
Think not, Eliza, that I leave you with indifference!
The conflict is great; the trial is
more than I can calmly support! Yet the consciousness
of duty, affords consolation. A duty
I conceive it to be, which I owe to myself;
and to the people of my charge, who are interested
in my future connection.
I wish not for an answer; my resolution is
unalterably fixed. But should you hereafter
be convinced of the justice of my conduct;
and become a convert to my advice, I shall be
happy to hear it.
That you may have wisdom to keep you
from falling, and conduct you safely through
this state of trial to the regions of immortal
bliss, is the servent prayer of your sincere
friend, and humble servant,
