In The Coquette, Boyer and Sanford are foils, with each man representing the different kinds of suitors available to women in post-Revolutionary America, and the pitfalls of marrying each.
A sober reverend with a modest but secure income, Boyer is only interested in courting in order to find a wife. In an early letter to his friend Mr. Selby about his desire to marry Eliza, he writes that
Expecting soon to settle in an eligible situation, if such a companion as I am persuaded she will make me, may fall to my lot, I shall deem myself as happy as this state of imperfection will admit.
In this passage, Boyer shows his respect for conventional norms of marriage, saying that it will make him "as happy as this state of imperfection will admit" (in other words, as happy as possible before dying and going to heaven). Describing his hopes of securing an "eligible situation," or a good job, he shows that he's ready and willing to provide for a wife. Yet this supposed expression of love for Eliza is dry and unromantic, reflecting his own desires rather than an appreciation of Eliza's character or qualities.
By contrast, Sanford is a spendthrift dandy whose income can't support his extravagant lifestyle. He's proud of his reputation as a seducer and explicitly pursues an extramarital relationship with Eliza even as he marries Nancy for her money. Where Boyer is boring and a little pedantic, Sanford offers excitement and spontaneity despite his flaws.
While Eliza initially prefers Sanford to Boyer, he becomes the catalyst for her social downfall, and she ultimately regrets not marrying Boyer when she had the chance. In this sense, the novel argues that in a society where women can easily be ruined by associating with the wrong kind of suitors, they should prioritize safe relationships with virtuous men over exciting ones with libertines. At the same time, Boyer and Sanford are united in pursuing Eliza for largely selfish reasons. Sanford desires her sexually, while Boyer feels that she would complete his conventional vision of a respectable life. Neither man gives much thought to what would make Eliza happy, and this unstated similarity undercuts the constant assertion of Eliza's friends that Boyer is a better prospect than Sanford.
Moreover, while Boyer is characterized as more virtuous, he's actually less perceptive about Eliza's character than is Sanford. He values her charm and glamour while believing she'll instantly give up her whirlwind social life to become a pastor's life. Sanford, who describes Eliza in an early letter to Mr. Deighton as "gay, volatile, apparently thoughtless of every thing but present enjoyment," understands from the start that Eliza is vain and dependent on social praise, and even expresses approval of those traits (which, notably, he shares). He may be the worse man, but only he appreciates Eliza for who she really is.
In The Coquette, Eliza and her close friend Lucy serve as foils, with each young woman illustrating a different mode of femininity in post-revolutionary America.
Eliza is sociable, flirtatious, and a little vain; after her unwanted engagement ends, she really wants to experience the best of "society," and doesn't mind offending people's notions of propriety in order to do so. Writing to Lucy from New Haven, she reports that
I am so pestered with these admirers; not that I am so very handsome neither; but I don’t know how it is, I am certainly very much the taste of the other sex.
While Eliza affects a certain amount of modesty in this passage, telling Lucy that she is not "so very handsome" and pretending to feel "pestered" by admirers, her giddy tone shows how much she values male attention and cares about social success, even if being the toast of the town ultimately harms her marriage prospects by making her seem less respectable.
By contrast, Lucy is totally committed to fulfilling social expectations of women's modesty and chastity. Even at the beginning of the novel, she's already engaged to a prosperous young man from her own social class; and from her first letter, she encourages Eliza to stay away from Sanford and choose marriage with Mr. Boyer, writing that:
You mean only to exhibit a few more girlish airs, before you turn matron. But I am persuaded, if you wish to lead down the dance of life with regularity, you will not find a more excellent partner than Mr. Boyer.
Here, Lucy shows disdain for the attention that Eliza values, saying that it is merely the result of "girlish airs." To Lucy, the social success that Eliza prioritizes is just the prelude to the "dance of life" that can only begin once she has secured a respectable husband.
Notably, while Lucy doesn't revolt against society or advocate for her own desires as Eliza does, she is the one who actually achieves some measure of independence. By finding a wealthy husband who values her, she secures a respectable social position from which she can both develop her own tastes and help her friends, while the ever-single Eliza is constantly expected to defer to others and, without a husband to provide her a home, lives with friends and family as a dependent. As the novel goes on, Lucy becomes more forthright in expressing her opinions about Eliza's conduct and even the culture of her adopted city of Boston, while Eliza grows increasingly anxious and unable to make decisions. Ultimately, their relationship shows the benefits that a traditional marriage can hold for women who find wealthy, appealing, and virtuous husbands; but it also demonstrates the harsh consequences for women who spurn marriage altogether.
In The Coquette, Eliza and her close friend Lucy serve as foils, with each young woman illustrating a different mode of femininity in post-revolutionary America.
Eliza is sociable, flirtatious, and a little vain; after her unwanted engagement ends, she really wants to experience the best of "society," and doesn't mind offending people's notions of propriety in order to do so. Writing to Lucy from New Haven, she reports that
I am so pestered with these admirers; not that I am so very handsome neither; but I don’t know how it is, I am certainly very much the taste of the other sex.
While Eliza affects a certain amount of modesty in this passage, telling Lucy that she is not "so very handsome" and pretending to feel "pestered" by admirers, her giddy tone shows how much she values male attention and cares about social success, even if being the toast of the town ultimately harms her marriage prospects by making her seem less respectable.
By contrast, Lucy is totally committed to fulfilling social expectations of women's modesty and chastity. Even at the beginning of the novel, she's already engaged to a prosperous young man from her own social class; and from her first letter, she encourages Eliza to stay away from Sanford and choose marriage with Mr. Boyer, writing that:
You mean only to exhibit a few more girlish airs, before you turn matron. But I am persuaded, if you wish to lead down the dance of life with regularity, you will not find a more excellent partner than Mr. Boyer.
Here, Lucy shows disdain for the attention that Eliza values, saying that it is merely the result of "girlish airs." To Lucy, the social success that Eliza prioritizes is just the prelude to the "dance of life" that can only begin once she has secured a respectable husband.
Notably, while Lucy doesn't revolt against society or advocate for her own desires as Eliza does, she is the one who actually achieves some measure of independence. By finding a wealthy husband who values her, she secures a respectable social position from which she can both develop her own tastes and help her friends, while the ever-single Eliza is constantly expected to defer to others and, without a husband to provide her a home, lives with friends and family as a dependent. As the novel goes on, Lucy becomes more forthright in expressing her opinions about Eliza's conduct and even the culture of her adopted city of Boston, while Eliza grows increasingly anxious and unable to make decisions. Ultimately, their relationship shows the benefits that a traditional marriage can hold for women who find wealthy, appealing, and virtuous husbands; but it also demonstrates the harsh consequences for women who spurn marriage altogether.
