melancholy event has lately extricated me from those shackles which
parental authority had imposed on my mind. Let me, then, enjoy that
freedom which I so highly prize. Let me have opportunity, unbiased by
opinion, to gratify my natural disposition in a participation of those
pleasures which youth and innocence afford." "Of such pleasures, no one,
my dear, would wish to deprive you; but beware, Eliza! Though strewed
with flowers, when contemplated by your lively imagination, it is, after
all, a slippery, thorny path. The round of fashionable dissipation is
dangerous. A phantom is often pursued, which leaves its deluded votary
the real form of wretchedness." She spoke with an emphasis, and, taking
up her candle, wished me a good night. I had not power to return the
compliment. Something seemingly prophetic in her looks and expressions
cast a momentary gloom upon my mind; but I despise those contracted
ideas which confine virtue to a cell. I have no notion of becoming a
recluse. Mrs. Richman has ever been a beloved friend of mine; yet I
always thought her rather prudish. Adieu.

ELIZA WHARTON.


LETTER VI.

TO THE SAME.

NEW HAVEN.

I had scarcely seated myself at the breakfast table this morning when a
servant entered with a card of invitation from Major Sanford, requesting
the happiness of my hand this evening at a ball given by Mr. Atkins,
about three miles from this. I showed the billet to Mrs. Richman,