w Sir William Verville; go to him from me with the inclosed
letter, he is a man of honor, and will, I am certain, provide for the
poor babe, who, had not his father been a monster of unfeeling
inhumanity, would have inherited the estate and title Sir William now
enjoys.

Is not the midnight murderer, my dear friend, white as snow to this
vile seducer? this betrayer of unsuspecting, trusting, innocence? what
transport is it to me to reflect, that not one bosom ever heaved a sigh
of remorse of which I was the cause!

I grieve for the poor victim of a tenderness, amiable in itself,
though productive of such dreadful consequences when not under the
guidance of reason.

It ought to be a double tie on the honor of men, that the woman who
truely loves gives up her will without reserve to the object of her
affection.

Virtuous less from reasoning and fixed principle, than from
elegance, and a lovely delicacy of mind; naturally tender, even to
excess; carried away by a romance of sentiment; the helpless sex are
too easily seduced, by engaging their confidence, and piquing their
generosity.

I cannot write; my heart is softened to a degree which makes me
incapable of any thing.

Do not neglect one moment going to Sir William Verville.

Adieu!
Your affectionate
Ed. Rivers.

LETTER 208.

To Colonel Rivers.

Oct. 28.

The story you have told me has equally shocked and astonished me: my
sweet Bell has dropped a pitying tear on poor Sophia's grave.

Thank heaven! we meet with few minds like that of Sir Charles
Verville; such a degree of savage insensibility is unnatural.

The human heart is created weak, not wicked: avid of pleasure and of
gain; but with a mixture of benevolence which prevents our seeking
either to the destruction of others.

Nothing can be more false than that we are naturally inclined to
evil: we are indeed naturally inclined to gratify the selfish passions
of every kind; but those passions are not evil in themselves, they only
become so from excess.

The malevolent passions are not inherent in our nature. They are
only to be acquired by degrees, and generally are born from chagrin and
disappointment; a wicked character is a depraved one.

What must this unhappy girl have suffered! no misery can equal the
struggles of a virtuous mind wishing to act in a manner becoming its
own dignity, yet carried by passions to do otherwise.

One o'clock.

I have been at Sir Wil