LETTER L.
To Mr. Colden.
Hereafter I shall be astonished at nothing but that credulity
which could give even momentary credit to your assertions.
Most fortunately, my belief lasted only till you left the
house. Then my scruples, which slept for a moment, revived,
and I determined to clear up my doubts by immediately
calling on Miss Jessup.
If any thing can exceed your depravity, Sir, it is your
folly. But I will not debase myself—my indignation at being
made the subject, and, for some minutes, the dupe of so
gross and so profligate an artifice, carries me beyond all
bounds. What, Sir!—But I will restrain myself.
I would not leave the city without apprizing you of this
detection of your schemes. If Miss Jessup were wise, she
would seek a just revenge for so atrocious a slander.
I need not tell you that I have seen her; laid the letter
before her which you delivered to me; nor do I need to
tell you what her anger and amazement were on finding her
name thus abused.
I pity you, Sir; I grieve for you; you have talents of a
certain kind, but your habits, wretchedly and flagitiously
perverse, have made you act on most occasions like an idiot.
Their iniquity was not sufficient to deter you from impostures
which—but I scorn to chide you.
My daughter is a monument of the success of your
schemes. But their success shall never be complete.
While I live she shall never join her interests with yours.
That is a vow which, I thank God, I am able to accomplish;
and shall.
