LETTER VIII.

TO MR. CHARLES DEIGHTON.

NEW HAVEN.

We had an elegant ball, last night, Charles; and what is still more to
the taste of your old friend, I had an elegant partner; one exactly
calculated to please my fancy--gay, volatile, apparently thoughtless of
every thing but present enjoyment. It was Miss Eliza Wharton--a young
lady whose agreeable person, polished manners, and refined talents have
rendered her the toast of the country around for these two years; though
for half that time she has had a clerical lover imposed on her by her
friends; for I am told it was not agreeable to her inclination. By this
same clerical lover of hers she was for several months confined as a
nurse. But his death has happily relieved her; and she now returns to
the world with redoubled lustre. At present she is a visitor to Mrs.
Richman, who is a relation. I first saw her on a party of pleasure at
Mr. Frazier's, where we walked, talked, sang, and danced together. I
thought her cousin watched her with a jealous eye; for she is, you must
know, a prude; and immaculate--more so than you or I--must be the man
who claims admission to her society. But I fancy this young lady is a
coquette; and if so, I shall avenge my sex by retaliating the mischiefs
she meditates against us. Not that I have any ill designs, but only to
play off her own artillery by using a little unmeaning gallantry. And
let her beware of the consequences. A young clergyman came in at General
Richman's yesterday, while I was waiting for Eliza, who was much more
cordially received by the general and his lady than was your humble