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LETTER XLIX.
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LETTER XLIX.

Your truly romantic letter came
safe to hand. Indeed, my dear, it would make
a very pretty figure in a novel. A bleeding
heart, slighted love, and all the et ceteras of
romance, enter into the composition!

Excuse this raillery; and I will now write
more seriously. You refer yourself to my
friendship for confolation. It shall be exerted


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for the purpose. But I must act the part of a
skilful surgeon, and probe the wound, which
I undertake to heal.

Where, O Eliza Wharton! Where is that
fund of sense, and sentiment which once animated
your engaging form? Where that
strength of mind, that independence of soul,
that alacrity and sprightliness of deportment,
which formerly raised you superior to every
adverse occurrence? Why have you resigned
these valuable endowments, and suffered yourself
to become the sport of contending passions?

You have now emerged from that mist of
fanciful solly, which, in a measure obscured the
brilliance of your youthful days.

True, you figured among the first rate coquettes;
while your friends, who knew your
accomplishments, lamented the misapplication of
them; but now they rejoice at the returning
empire of reason.

True, you have erred; mislead by the gaiety
of your disposition, and that volatility, and
inconsideration, which were incident to your
years; but you have seen, and nobly confessed
your errors. Why do you talk of slighted
love? True, Mr. Boyer, supposing you disregarded
him, transferred his affections to another
object; but have you not your admirers
still, among men of real merit? Are you not
esteemed, and caressed by numbers, who know
you capable of shining in a distinguished sphere


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of life? Turn then, my friend, from the gloomy
prospect, which your disturbed imagination has
brought into view. Let reason and religion
erect their throne in your breast; obey their
dictates and be happy. Past experience will
point out the quicksands which you are to avoid
in your future course.

Date then, from this, a new æra of life; and
may every moment be attended with selicity.
Follow Mr. Boyer's advice, and forget all former
connections.

Julia accepts your invitation. Nothing short
of your request could induce me to part with
her. She is a good girl; and her society will
amuse and instruct you.

I am, &c.

Lucy Sumner.