eternal welfare. I will not rehearse the innumerable instances of your
imprudence and misconduct which have fallen under my observation. Your
own heart must be your monitor. Suffice it for me to warn you against
the dangerous tendency of so dissipated a life, and to tell you that I
have traced (I believe aright) the cause of your dissimulation and
indifference to me. They are an aversion to the sober, rational, frugal
mode of living to which my profession leads; a fondness for the parade,
the gayety, not to say the licentiousness, of a station calculated to
gratify such a disposition; and a prepossession for Major Sanford,
infused into your giddy mind by the frippery, flattery, and artifice of
that worthless and abandoned man. Hence you preferred a connection with
him, if it could be accomplished; but a doubt whether it could, together
with the advice of your friends, who have kindly espoused my cause, has
restrained you from the avowal of your real sentiments, and led you to
continue your civilities to me. What the result of your coquetry would
have been had I waited for it, I cannot say; nor have I now any desire
or interest to know. I tear from my breast the idea which I have long
cherished of future union and happiness with you in the conjugal state.
I bid a last farewell to these fond hopes, and leave you forever.

For your own sake, however, let me conjure you to review your conduct,
and, before you have advanced beyond the possibility of returning to
rectitude and honor, to restrain your steps from the dangerous path in
which you now tread.

Fly Major Sanford. That man is a deceiver. Trust not his professions.
They are certainly insincere, or he would not affect concealment; he
would not induce you to a clandestine intercourse. Many have been the
victims to his treachery. O Eliza, add not to the number. Banish him
from your society if you wish to preserve your virtue unsullied, your