ll his
ways; and in this, as in all other respects, I would cheerfully say, His
will be done."

You, my friend, were witness to the concluding scene; and, therefore, I
need not describe it.

I shall only add on the subject, that if I have wisdom and prudence to
follow his advice and example, if his prayers for my temporal and
eternal welfare be heard and answered, I shall be happy indeed.

The disposition of mind which I now feel I wish to cultivate. Calm,
placid, and serene, thoughtful of my duty, and benevolent to all around
me, I wish for no other connection than that of friendship.

This letter is all an egotism. I have even neglected to mention the
respectable and happy friends with whom I reside, but will do it in my
next. Write soon and often; and believe me sincerely yours,

ELIZA WHARTON.

LETTER II.

TO THE SAME.

NEW HAVEN.

Time, which effaces every occasional impression, I find gradually
dispelling the pleasing pensiveness which the melancholy event, the
subject of my last, had diffused over my mind. Naturally cheerful,
volatile, and unreflecting, the opposite disposition I have found to
contain sources of enjoyment which I was before unconscious of
possessing.

My friends here are the picture of conjugal felicity. The situation is
delightful--the visiting parties perfectly agreeable. Every thing tends
to facilitate the return of my accustomed vivacity. I have written to my
mother, and received an answer. She praises my fortitude, and admires
the philosophy which I have exerted under what she calls my heavy
bereavement. Poor woman! she little thinks that my heart was untouched;
and when that is unaffected, other sentiments and passions make but a
transient impression. I have been, for a month or two, excluded from the
gay world, and, indeed, fancied myself soaring above it. It is now that
I begin to descend, and find my natural propensity for mixing in the
busy scenes and active pleasures of life returning. I have received your
letter--your moral lecture rather; and be assured, my dear, your
monitorial lessons and advice shall be attended to. I believe I shall
never again resume those airs which you term _coquettish_, but which I
think deserve a softer appellation, as they proceed from an innocent
heart, and are the effusions of a youthful and cheerful mind. We are all
invited to spend the day to-morrow at Colonel Farington's, who has an
elegant seat in this neighborhood. Both he and his lad