I hope you will not be offended by my freedom in this matter.  It originates in a concern for your honor and future happiness.  I am anxious lest you should be made the dupe of a coquette, and your peace of mind fall a sacrifice to an artful debauchee.  Yet I must believe that Miss Wharton has, in reality, all that virtue and good sense of which she enjoys the reputation; but her present conduct is mysterious.

I have said enough (more than I ought, perhaps) to awaken your attention to circumstances which may lead to important events.  If they appear of little or no consequence to you, you will at least ascribe the mention of them to motives of sincere regard in your friend and humble servant,

T. SELBY.

LETTER XXVIII.

TO MR. CHARLES DEIGHTON.

NEW HAVEN.

I go on finely with my amour.  I have every encouragement that I could wish.  Indeed my fair one does not verbally declare in my favor; but then, according to the vulgar proverb, that “actions speak louder than words,” I have no reason to complain; since she evidently approves my gallantry, is pleased with my company, and listens to my flattery.  Her sagacious friends have undoubtedly given her a detail of my vices.  If, therefore, my past conduct has been repugnant to her notions of propriety, why does she not act consistently, and refuse at once to associate with a man whose character she cannot esteem?  But no; that, Charles, is no part of the female plan; our entrapping a few of their sex only discovers the gayety of our dispositions, the insinuating graces of our manners, and the irresistible charms of our persons and address.  These qualifications are very alluring to the sprightly fancy of the fair.  They think to enjoy the pleasures which result from this source, while their vanity and ignorance prompt each one to imagine herself superior to delusion, and to anticipate the honor of reclaiming the libertine and reforming the rake.  I don’t know, however, but this girl will really have that merit with me; for I am so much attached to her that I begin to suspect I should sooner become a convert to sobriety than lose her.  I cannot find that I have made much impression on her heart as yet.  Want of success in this point mortifies me extremely, as it is the first time I ever failed.  Besides, I am apprehensive that she is prepossessed in favor of the other swain, the clerical lover, whom I have mentioned to you before.  The chord, therefore, upon which I play the most, is the dissimilarity of their dispositions and pleasures.  I endeavor to detach her from him, and disaffect her towards him; knowing that, if I can separate them entirely, I shall be more likely to succeed in my plan.  Not that I have any thoughts of marrying her myself; that will not do at present.  But I love her too well to see her connected with another for life.  I must own myself a little revengeful,