LETTER XVIII.
To Mr. Henry Colden.
New York, October 22.
Sir,
I address myself to you as the mother of an unhappy
girl, who has put herself into your power. But I write not
to upbraid you or indulge my own indignation, but merely
to beseech your compassion for her whom you profess to
love.
I cannot apologize for the manner in which I have acted
in regard to your connexion with Jane Talbot. In that
respect, I must take to myself all the blame you may choose
to impute to me.
I call not into question the disinterestedness of your intentions
in proposing marriage to this woman, nor, if the
information which I am going to give you, should possess
any influence, shall I ascribe that influence to any thing but
a commendable attention to your true interest, and a generous
regard to the welfare of my daughter.
Be it known to you, then, sir, that Mrs. Talbot possesses
no fortune in her own right. Her present dwelling, and
her chief means of subsistence, are derived from me; she
holds them at my option, and they will be instantly and entirely
withdrawn, on her marriage with you.
You cannot be unacquainted with the habits and views in
which my daughter has been educated. Her life has passed
in ease and luxury, and you cannot but perceive the effect
of any material change in her way of life.
It would be a wretched artifice to pretend to any particular
esteem for you, or to attempt to persuade you that any
part of this letter is dictated by any regard to your interest,
except as that is subservient to the interest of one, whom I
can never cease to love.
Yet I ardently hope that this circumstance may not hinder
you from accepting bills upon London to the amount of
three hundred pounds sterling. They shall be put into your
hands the moment I am properly assured that you have engaged
your passage to Europe, and are determined to be
nothing more than a distant well-wisher to my daughter.
I am anxious that you should draw from the terms of this
offer, proof of that confidence in your word, which you
might not perhaps have expected from my conduct towards
you in other respects. Indeed, my conscience acquits me
of any design to injure you. On the contrary, it would
give me sincere pleasure to hear of your success in every
laudable pursuit.
I know your talents and the direction which they have
hitherto received. I know that London is a theatre best
adapted to the lucrative display of those talents, and that the
sum I offer will be an ample fund, till your own exertices
may be turned to account.
If this offer be accepted, I shall not only hold myself
everlastingly obliged to you, but I shall grant you a higher
place in my esteem. Yet, through deference to scruples
which you may possibly possess, I most cheerfully plight to
you my honor, that this transaction shall be concealed from
Mrs. Talbot, and from all the world.
Though property is necessary to our happiness, and my
daughter's habits render the continuance of former indulgences
necessary to her content, I will not be so unjust to
her, as to imagine that this is all which she regards. Respect
from the world, and the attachment of her ancient
friends, are, also, of some value in her eyes. Reflect, sir,
I beseech you, whether you are qualified to compensate her
for the loss of property; of good name—my own justification,
in case she marries you, will require me to be nothing
more than just to her—and of all her ancient friends, who
will abhor in her, the faithless wife and the ungrateful child
I need not inform you that your family will never receive
into their bosom one whom her own kindred have rejected.
