LETTER LXIII.
TO MISS ELIZA WHARTON.
Boston.
A paradox, indeed, is the greater
part of your letter to us, my dear Eliza. We
had fondly flattered ourselves that the melancholy
of your mind was exterminated. I
hope no new cause has revived it. Little did
I intend, when I left you, to have been absent
so long; but Mrs. Sumner's disappointment,
in her plan of spending the summer at Hartford,
induced me, in compliance with her
request, to prolong my residence here.
But for your sake, she now consents to my
leaving her, in hopes I may be so happy as to
contribute to your amusement.
I am both pleased and instructed by the
conduct of this amiable woman. As I always
endeavored to imitate her discreet and modest
behavior in a single state; so likewise shall I
take her for a pattern, should I ever enter a
married life. She is most happily united.
Mr. Sumner, to allthe graces and accomplishments
of the gentleman, adds the still more
important and essential properties of virtue,
integrity and honor. I was once present
when a person was recommended to her for a
husband. She objected that he was a rake.
True, said the other, he has been, but he has
reformed. That will never do for me, rejoined
she; I wish my future companion to need
no reformation: a sentiment worthy the attention
of our whole sex; the general adoption
of which, I am persuaded, would have a
happy influence upon the manners of the
other.
I hope neither you, nor I, Eliza, shall ever be
tried by a man of debauched principles. Such
characters I conceive to be totally unfit for
the society of women, who have any claim to
virtue and delicacy.
I intend to be with you, in about a month.
If agreeable to you, we will visit, and spend a
few weeks with the afflicted Mrs. Richman.
I sincerely sympathize with her, under her
bereavement. I know her fondness for you
will render your company very consoling to
her; and I flatter myself that I should not be
an unwelcome guest.
Make my respects to your mamma; and believe
me ever your's,
