The Coquette

“Time, which effaces every occasional impression, I find gradually dispelling  the pleasing pensiveness, which the melancholy event, the subject of my last, had diffused over my mind. Naturally cheerful, volatile, and unreflecting, the opposite disposition, I have found to contain sources of enjoyment, which I was before unconscious of possessing.”

Eliza is acutely aware of her own volatility, an attribute that will be her undoing. She is ironically reflective in her assessment of herself as “unreflecting.” The material joys that she is waking up to lead her away from virtue.

“I believe I shall never again resume those airs, which you term as coquettish, but which I think deserve a softer appellation; as they proceed from an innocent heart, and are the effusions of a youthful, and cheerful mind.”

This is the first instance in the novel that the word “coquette” is invoked. Lucy has evidently chided Eliza on such behavior before. Eliza merely attributes it to her inexperience and innocence.

“I hope my friends will never again interpose in my concerns of that nature. You, madam, who have ever known my heart, are sensible that, had the Almighty spared life in a certain instance, I must have sacrificed my own happiness or incurred their censure. I am young, gay, volatile. A 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."

This passage highlights how highly Eliza values freedom and independence. She would have married Mr. Haly purely out of devotion to her parents; this would have led to an unhappy life. This causes her to react negatively to Boyer. However, failing to go along with her family and friends’ wishes ultimately ruins her life.

“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.”

Mrs. Richman directly foreshadows Eliza’s fall. Living for material pleasures rather than moral and spiritual conduct puts her in danger. Though libertinism seems attractive, it is not worth the consequences.

“Happy pair, said I. Should it ever be my fate to wear the hymeneal chain, may I be thus united! The purest and most ardent affection, the greatest consonance of taste and disposition, and the most congenial virtue and wishes distinguish this lovely couple. Health and wealth, with every attendant blessing, preside over their favored dwelling, and shed their benign influence without alloy.”

Mr. and Mrs. Richman are the ideal married couple. Their happiness and good fortune serve as a model for Eliza. They are a self-contained unit; they do not need to seek happiness from society like Eliza does.

“Will a lady of delicacy associate with an immoral, not to say profligate man? The rank and fortune of Major Sanford, said Mrs. Richman, procure him respect.”

Sanford’s social status and money outweigh his character flaws in the eyes of his society. This is why he is tolerated despite the fact that his immoral and dangerous behavior is well-known.

“I am surprised, said I; but how has he incurred so severe a censure? By being a professed libertine; by having but too successfully, practised the arts of seduction; by triumphing in the destruction of innocence and the peace of families."

Mrs. Richman warns Eliza of Sanford’s behavior only after the two have begun associating. She assumed Eliza would exercise more discretion and forestall any of his further advances on her own. Eliza now knows his faults, but continues to exercise bad judgment.

“What shall I say about this extraordinary man? Shall I own to you, my friend, that he is pleasing to me? His person, his manners, his situation, all combine to charm my fancy, and, to my lively imagination, strew the path of life with flowers. What a pity, my dear Lucy, that the graces and virtues are not oftener united! They must, however, meet in the man of my choice; and till I find such a one, I shall continue to subscribe my name, Eliza Wharton.”

Eliza echoes Mrs. Richman’s previous statement that libertinism seems to “strew the path of life with flowers,” but neglects that this is a trap. Sanford’s seduction works because he knows exactly how to play upon Eliza’s materialistic nature. In addition to his social graces, his vices make him attractive as well: Eliza foolishly harbors the notion that Sanford can be reformed, and that she could be the one to do it. This passage also indicates her conviction that marriage should not purely be a socially-calculated life choice for women: one’s own passions, desires, and wants should be considered as well.

“Marriage is the tomb of friendship. It appears to me a very selfish state.”

Because Eliza, at this point in her life, values friendship and social interaction above all else, the insular world of marriage seems to be the end of the lifestyle that she now enjoys. Marrying Reverend Boyer would be doubly insular; because of his religious occupation, he must forego much of the social world. This causes Eliza to become even more indecisive, and ultimately leads to her losing Boyer all together.

“My heart did not approve of his sentiments, but my ear was charmed with his rhetoric, and my fancy captivated by his address.”

Much of Sanford’s seduction technique is purely rhetorical. He uses logic and calculation to override Eliza’s sensibilities. He makes it seem more rational to her to reject the type of life offered by a marriage to Boyer. However, he never proposes marriage as an outcome his relationship with Eliza. His omissions are indicative of his intentions.

“With regard to its being a dependent situation, what one is not so? Are we not all links in the great chain of society, some more, some less important, but each upheld by others, throughout the confederated whole? In whatever situation we are placed, our greater or less degree of happiness must be derived from ourselves.”

Mrs. Wharton’s sentiments are indicative of the ethos of industry and cooperation that occupied the collective conscience of early American society. As a link in the “great chain of society,” Eliza’s responsibility extends beyond her own happiness. Mrs. Wharton posits it as a duty for Eliza to marry Mr. Boyer. Eliza’s doubts concerning her future with Boyer are ill-founded; she can expect a stable, moral life in which she can do her part for society as well.

“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, too, in this affair. I wish to punish her friends, as she calls them, for their malice towards me, for their cold and negligent treatment of me whenever I go to the house. I know that to frustrate their designs of a connection between Mr. Boyer and Eliza would be a grievous disappointment. I have not yet determined to seduce her, though, with all her pretensions to virtue, I do not think it impossible. And if I should, she can blame none but herself, since she knows my character, and has no reason to wonder if I act consistently with it. If she will play with a lion, let her beware of his paw, I say.”

Major Sanford acts not only for sexual gratification, but also for petty revenge. He is willing to ruin Eliza’s life and frustrate Mr. Boyer’s honest efforts in order to get back at Eliza’s friends. In addition, Sanford foists all responsibility and culpability on Eliza. This sort of sociopathic behavior is exactly what Mrs. Richman warns Eliza about. Despite being rebuffed over and over again, Sanford will make it his mission to end Eliza and Boyer’s relationship.

“On inquiry, I was told that Eliza had gone to walk in the garden, but desired that no person might intrude on her retirement. The singularity of the request awakened my curiosity, and determined me to follow her. I sought her in vain in different parts of the garden, till, going towards an arbor, almost concealed from sight by surrounding shrubbery, I discovered her sitting in close conversation with Major Sanford! My blood chilled in my veins, and I stood petrified with astonishment at the disclosure of such baseness and deceit. They both rose in visible confusion. I dared not trust myself to accost them. My passions were raised, and I feared that I might say or do something unbecoming [of] my character. I therefore gave them a look of indignation and contempt, and retreated to the house.”

When Reverend Boyer discovers Eliza and Major Sanford in apparent intimacy, he breaks off his relationship with Eliza. This scene is iconic of the miscommunication that drives the plot of the novel. While Boyer thinks the scene is indicative of Eliza’s coquettishness, she is, in reality, on the point of breaking things off with Sanford to commit to Boyer. She is unable to explain herself to Boyer. It is easy to see why Boyer would read the scene in this way: their behavior and evident confusion at his entrance seems like guilty behavior. This scene is a turning point in Eliza’s life, and ultimately leads to her decline and death.

“It is a common observation, that we know not the value of a blessing but by deprivation. This is strictly verified in my case. I was insensible of my regard for Mr. Boyer till this fatal separation took place. His merit and worth now appear in the brightest colors. I am convinced of that excellence which I once slighted, and the shade of departed happiness haunts me perpetually. I am sometimes tempted to write to him and confess my faults; to tell him the situation of my mind, and to offer him my hand; but he has precluded all hopes of success by the severity of his letter to me.”

Eliza’s accustomed happiness and sociability never return after losing Mr. Boyer. This is due to the fact that she realizes she actually did love him; now that he has left her forever, this love will remain unrequited. Sanford leaves as well, for what ends up being more than a year. Forsaken, Eliza spirals into depression and becomes sickly.

“I thought it a duty which I owed to you, and to myself, to make this expiation, this sacrifice of female reserve, for the wrongs I have done you. As such I wish you to accept it; and if your affections are entirely alienated or otherwise engaged, if you cannot again command the respect and love which I would recall, do not despise me for the concessions I have made. Think as favorably of my past faults and of my present disposition as charity will allow. Continue, if possible, to be my friend, though you cease to be my lover.”

In a rare instance of open declaration, Eliza makes one final attempt to rekindle Reverend Boyer’s affection for her. In many ways, this is Eliza’s final chance at reforming her character. Sanford’s absence at this point in the novel essentially removes any bad influence from her life; she can soberly reflect upon her past conduct toward Boyer, who has been out of her life for over a year now. Her final hope is that Boyer is still single and still harbors feelings for her.

“Permit me to add, that for your own sake, and for the sake of your ever-valued friends, I sincerely rejoice that your mind has regained its native strength and beauty; that you have emerged from the shade of fanciful vanity. For although, to adopt your own phrase, I cease to style myself your lover, among the number of your friends I am happy to be reckoned. As such, let me conjure you, by all that is dear and desirable, both in this life and another, to adhere with undeviating exactness to the paths of rectitude and innocence, and to improve the noble talents which Heaven has liberally bestowed upon you in rendering yourself amiable and […] useful to your friends. Thus will you secure your own, while you promote the happiness of all around you.”

Now that Reverend Boyer is engaged, Eliza has no hope of winning him back. Boyer’s response is warm, however, contrasting the stark renunciation of her company and character that was their last interaction. Boyer is delighted that Eliza has reformed herself; however, his rejection is final—he is engaged to Maria Selby. Rather than taking his advice to heart, Eliza loses all hope and spirals into depression and dissipation, wasting those talents and virtues of hers that Boyer praises.

“Rise then above it, and prove yourself superior to the adverse occurrences which have befallen you. It is by surmounting difficulties, not by sinking under them, that we discover our fortitude. True courage consists not in flying from the storms of life, but in braving and steering through them with prudence.”

As Eliza’s health and mental state continue to decline, her friends become increasingly worried. Lucy, in particular, takes the stance that Eliza’s melancholy is self-indulgent. While it is a shame that she lost Boyer, there are plenty of men who would want to marry Eliza. Lucy echoes Mrs. Wharton’s advice that happiness is to a large extent self-chosen; Eliza should actively work to overcome her isolation and melancholy.

“Gracious Heaven! What have I heard? Major Sanford is married! Yes; the ungrateful, the deceitful wretch is married. He has forsworn, he has perjured and given himself to another. That, you will say, is nothing strange. It is characteristic of the man. It may be so; but I could not be convinced of his perfidy till now.”

Eliza’s shock at the news of Sanford’s marriage indicates that she still holds hopes of a relationship with him, despite what she tells her friends. He has been out of contact with Eliza for around a year at this point; Eliza naturally believes he has moved on. Her continued defense of his character is indicative either of naivety or of a belief that everyone is good at heart and even the worst men can be reformed.

“No female, whose mind is uncorrupted, can be indifferent to reputation. It is an inestimable jewel, the loss of which can never be repaired. While retained, it affords conscious peace to our own minds, and insures the esteem and respect of all around us.”

Lucy is writing, in coded language, about virginity. For a young, unmarried woman, her virginity (her virtue or honor) was the social currency by which she was valued. If a woman had a bad reputation in this regard, it could seriously damage her future.

“Since I wrote the above, you have kindly granted me your forgiveness, though you knew not how great, how aggravated was my offence. You forgive me, you say. O, the harmonious, the transporting sound! It has revived my drooping spirits, and will enable me to encounter, with resolution, the trials before me.”

In her farewell letter to her mother, Eliza expresses everything that she is unable to in person for fear of seeing the disappointment and sorrow it would arouse in her loved ones. When Mrs. Wharton forgives Eliza in advance, it is unlikely she could have conceived of what her daughter could be going through. Thankfully for Eliza, Mrs. Wharton remains true to her word and laments that Eliza ran away instead of staying in the shelter of her home.

“One thing more I have to request. Plead for me with my two best friends, Mrs. Richman and Mrs. Sumner. I ask you not to palliate my faults,—that cannot be done,—but to obtain, if possible, their forgiveness. I cannot write all my full mind suggests on this subject. You know the purport, and can better express it for me.”

In her farewell to Julia, Eliza attempts to close her accounts with the social world. Conscious that she is dying of consumption, she knows she does not have long to live and wishes to have her friends remember her fondly. She is still too conscious of incurring social embarrassment to contact them herself. Julia has become her confidant; she knows all of Eliza’s secrets, and it is up to her to plead Eliza’s case to the court of public opinion.

“I rave, and then reflect; I reflect, and then rave. I have no patience to bear this calamity, nor power to remedy it. Where shall I fly from the upbraidings of my mind, which accuse me as the murderer of my Eliza?”

It takes Eliza’s death to make Sanford repent of his actions. Sanford is ruined; his fortune is gone and his paramour is dead. It is only now that he shows any sense of conscience; and this conscience is only tied to the way he wronged Eliza, not to any of the past wrongs he inflicted upon other women.

“Upon your reflecting and steady mind, my dear Julia, I need not inculcate the lessons which may be drawn from this woe-fraught tale; but for the sake of my sex in general, I wish it engraved upon every heart, that virtue alone, independent of the trappings of wealth, the parade of equipage, and the adulation of gallantry, can secure lasting felicity. From the melancholy story of Eliza Wharton let the American fair learn to reject with disdain every insinuation derogatory to their true dignity and honor. Let them despise and forever banish the man who can glory in the seduction of innocence and the ruin of reputation. To associate is to approve; to approve is to be betrayed.”

Lucy does not want Eliza’s death to be in vain; rather, it should stand as an example of how a good girl can stumble from the straight and narrow into infamy. Lucy also takes this opportunity to castigate Sanford one last time, denouncing his behavior while refusing to refer to him by name. A woman’s virtue and honor is her social currency; she must do all she can to protect it.