tion to which he had subscribed. I therefore begged him to waive
the subject now, if not forever. He asked my pardon, if he had been
impertinent, but desired leave to renew his request that I would receive
his visits, his friendly visits. I replied that I could not grant this,
and that he must blame himself, not me, if he was an unwelcome guest at
General Richman's. He lamented the prejudices which my friends had
imbibed against him, but flattered himself that I was more liberal than
to be influenced by them without any positive proof of demerit, as it
was impossible that his conduct towards me should ever deviate from the
strictest rules of honor and love.

What shall I say now, my friend? This man to an agreeable person has
superadded graceful manners, an amiable temper, and a fortune sufficient
to insure the enjoyments of all the pleasing varieties of social life.
Perhaps a gay disposition and a lax education may have betrayed him into
some scenes of dissipation. But is it not an adage generally received,
that "_a reformed rake makes the best husband_"? My fancy leads me for
happiness to the festive haunts of fashionable life. I am at present,
and know not but I ever shall be, too volatile for a confinement to
domestic avocations and sedentary pleasures. I dare not, therefore,
place myself in a situation where these must be indispensable. Mr.
Boyer's person and character are agreeable. I really esteem the man. My
reason and judgment, as I have observed before, declare for a connection
with him, as a state of tranquillity and rational happiness. But the
idea of relinquishing those delightful amusements and flattering
attentions which wealth and equipage bestow is painful. Why were not the
virtues of the one and the graces and affluence of the other combined? I
should then have been happy indeed. But, as the case now stands, I am
loath to give up either; being doubtful which will conduce most to my
felicity.

Pray write me impartially; let me know your real sentiments, for I rely
greatly upon your opinion. I am, &c.,

ELIZA WHARTON.

LETTER XXVII.

TO THE REV. MR. BOYER.

NEW HAVEN.

I am quite a convert to Pope's assertion, that

"Every woman is at heart a rake."

How else can we account for the pleasure which they evidently receive
from the society, the flattery, the caresses of men of that character?
Even the most virtuous of them seem naturally prone to gayety, to
pleasure, and, I had almost said, t