The works of Mrs. Haywood's maturity most renowned for their pious intent were not of the tribe of novels, but rather in the shape of letters or periodical essays such as "Epistles for the Ladies" (1749) and "The Female Spectator" (1746). Each of these forms, as practiced during the eighteenth century, permitted the introduction of short romantic stories either for the purpose of illustrating a moral or to make the didacticism more palatable. Even as a votary of virtue Eliza did not neglect to mingle a liberal portion of dulce with her utile; indeed in the first of the productions mentioned she manifested an occasional tendency to revert to the letter of amorous intrigue characteristic of her earlier efforts. In her latest and soberest writings, the conduct books called "The Wife" and "The Husband" (1756), she frequently yielded to the temptation to turn from dry precept to picturing the foibles of either sex. Her long training in the school of romance had made gallantry the natural object of Eliza Haywood's thoughts.

During the time that she was incessantly occupied with short tales of passion she had experimented in both the letter and the essay form, using the former especially as an adjunct to her stories. One of her first attempts, also, to find her proper vein as an author was a translation from the French of the "Letters from a Lady of Quality to a Chevalier," with a "Discourse concerning Writings of this Nature, by Way of Essay" for which the translator was responsible. In "The Tea-Table" (1725), which never advanced beyond the second part, and "Reflections on the Various Effects of Love" (1726) the then well-known novelist returned to the essay form, and a comprehensive volume of "Love-Letters on All Occasions" (1730) closed the first period of her literary activity. But none of these departures was noticeably different in tone from her staple romances.

The sweets of love were perhaps most convincingly revealed in the amorous billets of which "Love in Excess" and many of Eliza's subsequent pieces of fiction contained a plentiful supply. Letters languishing with various degrees of desire or burning with jealous rage were introduced into the story upon any pretext. Writing them was evidently the author's forte, and perusing them apparently a pleasure to her readers, for they remained a conspicuous part of Mrs. Haywood's sentimental paraphernalia. As in the French romances of the Scudéry type the missives were quoted at length and labeled with such headings as, "The Despairing D'Elmont to his Repenting Charmer," or "To the never enough Admir'd Count D'Elmont," and signed with some such formula as, "Your most passionate and tender, but ('till she receives a favorable Answer) your unknown Adorer." The custom of inserting letters in the course of the story was, as has already been indicated, a heritage from the times of Gomberville, La Calprenède, and the Scudérys when miscellaneous material of all sorts from poetry to prosy conversations was habitually used to diversify the narrative. Mrs. Haywood, however, employed the letter not to ornament but to intensify. Her billets-doux like the lyrics in a play represent moments of supreme emotion. In seeking vividness she too often fell into exaggeration, as in the following specimen of absolute passion.

"Torture—Distraction—Hell—what will become of me—I cannot—I will not survive the Knowledge that you are mine no more—Yet this Suspence is worse than all yet ever bore the Name of Horror—Let me not linger in it, if you have Humanity—declare my Doom at once—be kind in Cruelty at least, and let one Death conclude the thousand, thousand Deaths which every Minute of Uncertainty brings with it, to

The Miserable, but
Still Adoring
Melantha.

P.S. I have order'd the Messenger to bring an Answer; if he comes
without, depend I will murder him, and then myself."[1]

Such remnants of the romantic tradition as the verses on "The Unfortunate Camilla's Complaint to the Moon, for the Absence of her dear Henricus Frankville" in "Love in Excess" were soon discarded, but the letters, though they encumbered the progress of the narrative, made it more realistic by giving an opportunity for the display of passion at first hand. Their continued vogue was undoubtedly due in large measure to the popularity of the celebrated "Letters of a Portuguese Nun" (1669), which, with a note of sincerity till then unknown, aided the return to naturalness.[2]

The "Lettres Nouvelles de Monsieur Boursault … Avec Treize Lettres Amoureuses d'une Dame à un Cavalier," loosely translated by Mrs. Haywood as "Letters from a Lady of Quality to a Chevalier" (1721),[3] was one of the numerous imitations of the Portuguese Letters. Like most of the other imitations it echoed the mannerisms rather than the fervor of its original. The lady's epistles do not reveal a story, but describe in detail the doubts, disappointments, fears, jealousies, and raptures of a married woman for a lover who in the last three letters has left France for England. Except for this remove there is no change in the situation of the characters. The lover apparently remains constant to the end. The reader is even left in some doubt as to the exact nature of their relationship. The lady at one time calls it a "criminal Conversation," but later resents an attempt upon her honor, and seems generally to believe that "a distant Conversation, if it is less sweet, will be, not only more pure, but also more durable."

But perhaps it is only fair to let the author speak for herself.

"The Lady, whose Letters I have taken the liberty to translate, tho she has been cautious enough in expressing any thing (even in those the most tender among them) which can give the Reader an Assurance she had forfeited her Virtue; yet there is not one, but what sufficiently proves how impossible it is to maintain such a Correspondence, without an Anxiety and continual Perturbation of Mind, which I think a Woman must have bid farewell to her Understanding, before she could resolve to endure.