Many years ago there was published in Boston a small volume entitled "Eliza Wharton, the Coquette. By a Lady of Massachusetts." It consisted of a series of letters said to be founded on fact. A young woman died at the Bell Tavern in Danvers in 1788, whose gravestone a few years ago might be seen in the old Danvers (now Peabody) burial-ground. We copy from the "Salem Mercury" of July 29, 1788, the following account:-- Last Friday, a female stranger died at the Bell Tavern, in Danvers; and on Sunday her remains were decently interred. The circumstances relative to this woman are such as excite curiosity and interest our feelings. She was brought to the Bell in a chaise, from Watertown, as she said, by a young man whom she had engaged for that purpose. After she had alighted, and taken a trunk with her into the house, the chaise immediately drove off. She remained at this inn till her death, in expectation of the arrival of her husband, whom she expected to come for her, and appeared anxious at his delay. She was averse to being interrogated concerning herself or connexions; and kept much retired to her chamber, employed in needle-work, writing, &c. She said, however, that she came from Westfield, in Connecticut; that her parents lived in that State; that she had been married only a few months; and, that her husband's name was Thomas Walker;--but always carefully concealed her family name. Her linen was all marked E.W. About a fortnight before her death, she was brought to bed of a lifeless child. When those who attended her apprehended her fate, they asked her, whether she did not wish to see her friends: She answered, that she was very desirous of seeing them. It was proposed that she should send for them; to which she objected, hoping in a short time to be able to go to them. From what she said, and from other circumstances, it appeared probable to those who attended her, that she belonged to some country town in Connecticut: Her conversation, her writings and her manners, bespoke the advantage of a respectable family & good education. Her person was agreeable; her deportment, amiable & engaging; and, though in a state of anxiety and suspense, she preserved a cheerfulness, which seemed to be not the effect of insensibility, but of a firm and patient temper. She was supposed to be about 35 years old. Copies of letters, of her writing, dated at Hartford, Springfield, and other places, were left among her things.--This account is given by the family in which she resided; and it is hoped the publication of it will be a means of her friends' ascertaining her fate. Elizabeth Whitman was the real name of the stranger, and the following was the inscription on the stone:--