From Henrietta.
III

Wednes-day Morn.

I had not forgotten the affecting circumstances which you
mention. But the letter—Oh! My capricious and unaccountable friend! As
thou valuest the continuance of my regard, let me not again be affronted at
the mention of it. How would you be induced be to write in that inexcusably
licentious manner? —I read it with indignation and regret, but let this
be the last time, that you recall to my remembrance that epistle or the
circumstances which produced it. I shall ponder ^{not forgive} an second and equally
flagrant violation of decorum. I blush for you.

I could not forbear weeping over some parts of your letter. Why
will you continue to contend and ^{‸ write &} cavil in such a manner as gives me
perpetual occasion to upbraid myself? Why will you so often give me
reason to ^‸exclaim, “Lo! the ruins of the Noblest youth, that ever ‸ in the tide of
times” For surely he whose deportiment is regulated not by reason or
prudence, but by violent and dominering passion; whose being is perverted
from its original end, and ^{‸ whose mind is} made the slave of phantoms and chimeras
may justly be considered as in ruins. Your Attachment is to me a source
of pure and exalted pleasure: pleasure interrupted ^{‸ or diminished} only by the consciousness
that its effects upon yourself are very different. How far are you from
tasting that felicity which I enjoy. That stillness and repose, that mental
calm which only is worthy of the name of happiness. You pretend that
my inclination is your law, that my will will always be complied
with as soon as it is known. I can easily concieve a just idea of love
It appears to me to a simple intelligible and consistent. But thy love I
must confess to be wholly mysterious and absolutely inexplicable. For notwith-


―8―

the absoluteness of my most reasonable commands, you obstinately refuse
obedience to them. It it not possible to subdue this contumacious dispositi
What think you ^{‸ my friend} of an expedient which has just occurred to me?
Give me in your next letter your opinion of it. I think its success
will be infallable. It is this. I will immediately leave this City
and return to Connecticut. I will send you a letter, to be delivered to
you after my departure, in which I will solemnly renounce all
affection for you, declare, with all the virulence of female
indignation, that some parts of your conduct has mortally and
inexpiably offended me, and that hereafter no correspondence or
connection shall subsist between us. What sayest thou? I hope
thou wilt applaud the ingenuity of this contrivance. It will doubtly
be successful but another more important question with regard
to it remains to be considered, and that is whether it be practicable

Allas! I am apprehensive that its execution is impossible. I find, O
my beloved youth, that my soul is linked to thine by ties which
will not easily be broken. That nothing but part us necessity can
part us. Some other Scheme must ^{‸ therefore} be discovered which may more
conveniently be carried into effect

But the disorder must be cured ^known before it can be cured.
What is thy disease my friend? The source of this perpetual inquietude?
Thou talkest very obscurely. —What! Dost thou regret the transformation
the fancied transformation of thy mistress into an angel; but her ^{‸ chamber, ‸ her coutch, ‸her he}
Arms! Her Bosom! —Hah! I see—I see—How long has my Sagacity
slipt! Was it possible to be so blind? A precipice indeed! —Thou indeed
art rushing to a precipice, from which thou wilt fall, but not alon
Thy Henrietta will fall with thee. Call thy courage to thee ere it be
too late. Resume thy manhood. Shake off this drowsiness. Do not oblige
me to look upon thee with terror instead of tenderness, to shun
instead of soliciting thy company, to regard as thee as the foe of
virtue, the bane of my peace, the destroyer of my honour.


―9―

Ah My friend! My much deluded and unhappy friend! The distress which this
discovery has given me will not suffer me to proceed—