Becoming America - An Exploration of American Literature from Precolonial to Post-Revolution, 2018a

BECOMING AMERICA
REVOLUTIONARY AND EARLY NATIONAL PERIOD LITERATURE
He is gone. His fate is unalterably, and I trust happily, xed. He lived the life,
and died the death, of the righteous. O that my last end may be like his! This event
will, I hope, make a suitable and abiding impression upon my mind, teach me the
fading nature of all sublunary enjoyments, and the little dependence which is to be
placed on earthly felicity. Whose situation was more agreeable, whose prospects
more attering, than Mr. Haly’s? Social, domestic, and connubial joys were fondly
anticipated, and friends and fortune seemed ready to crown every wish; yet,
animated by still brighter hopes, he cheerfully bade them all adieu. In conversation
with me but a few days before his exit, “There is,” said he, “but one link in the chain
of life undissevered; that, my dear Eliza, is my attachment to you. But God is wise
and good in all 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 eaces every occasional impression, I nd gradually dispelling
the pleasing pensiveness which the melancholy event, the subject of my last, had
diused over my mind. Naturally cheerful, volatile, and unreecting, 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 unaected, 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 nd my natural propensity for mixing in the busy scenes and active
pleasures of life returning. I have received your letter—your moral lecture rather;
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