LETTER XLII.
To Mrs. Fielder.
Baltimore, Dec. 5.
Madam,
I pretend not to be raised above any of the infirmities
of human nature, but am too sensible of the errors of my
past conduct, and the defects which will ever cleave to my
character, to be either surprised or indignant at the disapprobation
of a virtuous mind. So far from harboring resentment
against you, it is with reluctance I decline the
acceptance of your bill. I cannot consider it in any other
light than as an alms which my situation is far from making
necessary, and by receiving which I should defraud those
whose poverty may plead a superior title.
I hasten to give you pleasure by informing you of my
intention to leave America immediately. My destiny is far
from being certain, but, at present, I both desire and expect
never to revisit my native land.
I design not to solicit another interview with Mrs. Talbot.
You dissuade me from making any reply to her letter, from
the fear, no doubt, that my influence will be exerted to
change her resolution. Dismiss, I entreat you, madam,
every apprehension of that kind. Your daughter has deliberately
made her election. If no advantage be taken
of her tenderness and pity, she will be happy in her new
scheme. Shall I, who pretend to love her, subject her to
new trials and mortifications? Am I able to reward her, by
my affection, for the loss of every other comfort. What
can I say in favor of my own attachment to her, which
may not be urged in favor of her attachment to her mother.
The happiness of one or the other must be sacrificed, and
shall I not rather offer, than demand the sacrifice? and
how poor and selfish should I be if I did not strive to lessen
the difficulties of her choice, and persuade her that in gratifying
her mother, she inflicts no lasting misery on me?
I regard, in its true light, what you can say with respect
to reconcilement with my father, and am always ready to
comply with your wishes in the only way that a conviction
of my own rectitude will permit. I have patiently endured
revilings and blows, but I shall not needlessly expose myself
to new insults. Though willing to accept apology and
grant an oblivion of the past, I will never avow a penitence
which I do not feel, or confess that I deserved the treatment
I received.
Truly can I affirm that your daughter's happiness is of
all earthly things most dear to me. I fervently thank Heaven
that I leave her exempt from all the hardships of poverty,
and in the bosom of one who will guard her safety with a
zeal equal to my own. All that I fear is, that your efforts
to console her will fail. I know the heart, which, if you
thought me worthy of the honor, I should account it my
supreme felicity to call mine. Let it be a precious deposit
in your hands.
And now, Madam, permit me to conclude with a solemn
blessing on your head, and on her's, and with an eternal
farewell to you both.
