University of Virginia Library

LETTER IV.

You ask me, my friend, whether
I am in pursuit of truth, or a lady? I
answer, both. I hope and trust they are
united; and really expect to find truth and the
virtues and graces besides in a fair form. If
you mean by the first part of your question,
whether I am searching into the sublimer doctrines
of religion? To these I would by no
means be inattentive; but to be honest, my
studies of that kind have been very much interrupted
of late. The respectable circle of acquaintances
with which I am honored here, has
rendered my visits very frequent and numerous.
In one of these I was introduced to Miss
Eliza Wharton; a young lady whose elegant
person, accomplished mind, and polished manners
have been much celebrated. Her fame has
often reached me; but, as the queen of Sheba
said to Solomon, the half was not told me.
You will think, that I talk in the style of a lover.
I confess it, nor am I ashamed to rank myself
among the professed admirers of this lovely
fair one. I am in no danger, however, of becoming

an enthusiastic devotee. No, I mean to
act upon just and rational principles. Expecting
soon to settle in an eligible situation, if such
a companion as I am persuaded she will make
me, may fall to my lot, I shall deem myself as happy
as this state of imperfection will admit. She
is now resident at Gen. Richman's. The general
and his lady are her particular friends.
They are warm in her praises. They tell me,
however, that she is naturally of a gay disposition.
No matter for that; it is an agreeable
quality, where there is discretion sufficient for
its regulation. A cheerful friend, much more
a cheerful wife is peculiarly necessary to a person
of a studious and sedentary life. They dispel
the gloom of retirement, and exhilerate
the spirits depressed by intense application.
She was formerly addressed by the late Mr.
Haly of Boston. He was not, it seems, the man
of her choice; but her parents were extremely
partial to him, and wished the connection to
take place. She, like a dutiful child, sacrificed
her own inclination to their pleasure, so far as
to acquiesce in his visits. This she more easily
accomplished, as his health, which declined
from their first acquaintance, led her to suppose,
as the event has proved, that he would not live
to enter into any lasting engagements. Her
father, who died some months before him, invited
him to reside at his house, for the benefit
of a change of air, agreeably to the advice of
his physicians. She attended him during his
last illness, with all the care and assiduity of a
nurse; and with all the sympathising tenderness
of a sister.

I have had several opportunities of conversing
with her. She discovers an elevated mind,
a ready apprehension, and an accurate knowledge
of the various subjects which have been
brought into view. I have not yet introduced the
favorite subject of my heart. Indeed she seems
studiously to avoid noticing any expression which
leads towards it. But she must hear it soon. I
am sure of the favor and interest of the friends
with whom she resides. They have promised to
speak previously in my behalf. I am to call as
if accidentally this afternoon, just as they are
to ride abroad. They are to refer me to Miss
Wharton for entertainment, till their return.
What a delightful opportunity for my purpose!
I am counting the hours, nay, the very moments.
Adieu. You shall soon hear again from your
most obedient,