University of Virginia Library

LETTER LXI.

I have received your letters, and must
own to you that the perusal of them gave me
pain. Pardon my suspicions, Eliza: they
are excited by real friendship. Julia, you say,
approves not Major Sandford's particular attention
to you. Neither do I. If you recollect,
and examine his conversation in his conciliatory
visit, you will find it replete with sentiments,
for the avowal of which, he ought to
be banished from all virtuous society.

Does he not insidiously declare that you
are the only object of his affections; that his
union with another was formed from interested
views; and though that other is acknowledged
to be amiable and excellent, still he has
not a heart to bestow, and expects not happiness
with her? Does this discover even the appearance
of amendment? Has he not, by salse
pretensions, mislead a virtuous woman, and induced
her to form a connection with him? She

was a stranger to his manner of life; and doubtless
allured, as you have been, by flattery,
deceit, and external appearance, to trust his
honor; little thinking him wholly devoid of
that sacred tie! What is the reward of her
confidence? Insensibility to her charms,
neglect of her person, and professed attachment
to another!

Is he the man, my dear Eliza, whose friendship
you wish to cultivate? Can that heavenly
passion reside in a breast, which is the seat of
treachery, duplicity, and ingratitude? You
are too sensible of its purity and worth, to
suppose it possible. The confessions of his
own mouth condemn him. They convince
me that he is still the abandoned libertine;
and that marriage is but the cloak of his
intrigues. His officious attentions to you are
alarming to your friends. You own your mind
weakened, and peculiarly susceptible of tender
impressions. Beware how you receive them
from him. Listen not a moment to his flattering
professions. It is an insult upon your
understanding for him to offer them. It is
derogatory to virtue for you to hear them.

Slight not the opinion of the world. We
are dependent beings; and while the smallest
traces of virtuous sensibility remain, we must
feel the force of that dependence, in a greater
or less degree. No female, whose mind is

uncorrupted, can be indifferent to reputation.
It is an inestimable jewel, the loss of which
can never be repaired. While retained, it
affords conscious peace to our own minds,
and ensures the esteem and respect of all
around us.

Blessed with the company of so disinterested
and faithful a friend, as Julia Granby, some
deference is certainly due to her opinion
and advice. To an enlarged understanding,
a cultivated taste, and an extensive knowledge
of the world, she unites the most liberal sentiments,
with a benevolence, and candor of
disposition, which render her equally deserving
of your confidence and affection.

I cannot relinquisn my claim to a visit from
you this winter. Marriage has not alieniated,
or weakened my regard formy friends. Come,
then, to your faithful Lucy. Have you forrows?
I will sooth, and alleviate them. Have
you cares? I will dispel them. Have you
pleasures? I will heighten them. Come then,
let me fold you to my expecting heart. My
happiness will be partly suspended till your
society render it complete. Adieu.