LETTER XXVI
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. [IN CONTINUATION.]
But is it not a confounded thing that I cannot fasten an obligation uponthis proud beauty? I have two motives in endeavouring to prevail uponher to accept of money and raiment from me: one; the real pleasure Ishould have in the accommodating of the haughty maid; and to think therewas something near her, and upon her, that I could call mine: the other,in order to abate her severity and humble her a little.
Nothing more effectually brings down a proud spirit, than a sense oflying under pecuniary obligations. This has always made me solicitousto avoid laying myself under any such: yet, sometimes, formerly, haveI been put to it, and cursed the tardy resolution of the quarterlyperiods. And yet I ever made shift to avoid anticipation: I never wouldeat the calf in the cow's belly, as Lord M.'s phrase is: for what isthat, but to hold our lands upon tenant-courtesy, the vilest of alltenures? To be denied a fox-chace, for breaking down a fence upon my owngrounds? To be clamoured at for repairs studied for, rather than reallywanted? To be prated to by a bumpkin with his hat on, and his armsfolded, as if he defied your expectations of that sort; his foot firmlyfixed, as if upon his own ground, and you forced to take his arch leers,and stupid gybes; he intimating, by the whole of his conduct, that hehad had it in his power to oblige you, and, if you behave civilly, mayoblige you again? I, who think I have a right to break every man's headI pass by, if I like not his looks, to bear this!--No more could I doit, then I could borrow of an insolent uncle, or inquisitive aunt, whowould thence think themselves entitled to have an account of all my lifeand actions laid before them for their review and censure.
My charmer, I see, has a pride like my own: but she has no distinctionin her pride: nor knows the pretty fool that there is nothing nobler,nothing more delightful, than for loves to be conferring and receivingobligations from each other. In this very farm-yard, to give thee afamiliar instance, I have more than once seen this remark illustrated. Astrutting rascal of a cock have I beheld chuck, chuck, chuck, chuck-inghis mistress to him, when he has found a single barley-corn, taking itup with his bill, and letting it drop five or six times, still repeatinghis chucking invitation: and when two or three of his feathered ladiesstrive who shall be the first for it [O Jack! a cock is a grand signorof a bird!] he directs the bill of the foremost to it; and when she hasgot the dirty pearl, he struts over her with an erected crest, clinground her with dropt wings, sweeping the dust in humble courtship: whilethe obliged she, half-shy, half-willing, by her cowering tail, preparedwings, yet seemingly affrighted eyes, and contracted neck, lets one seethat she knows the barley-corn was not all he called her for.
When he comes to that part of his narrative, where he mentions of the proposing of the Lady's maid Hannah, or one of the young Sorlings, to attend her, thus he writes:
Now, Belford, canst thou imagine what I meant by proposing Hannah, orone of the girls here, for her attendant? I'll give thee a month toguess.
Thou wilt not pretend to guess, thou say'st.
Well, then I'll tell thee.
Believing she would certainly propose to have that favourite wench abouther, as soon as she was a little settled, I had caused the girl to beinquired after, with an intent to make interest, some how or other, thata month's warning should be insisted on by her master or mistress, or bysome other means, which I had not determined upon, to prevent her comingto her. But fortune fights for me. The wench is luckily ill; a violentrheumatic disorder, which has obliged her to leave her place, confinesher to her chamber. Poor Hannah! How I pity the girl! These things arevery hard upon industrious servants!--I intend to make the poor wench asmall present on the occasion--I know it will oblige my charmer.
And so, Jack, pretending not to know any thing of the matter, I pressedher to send for Hannah. She knew I had always a regard for this servant,because of her honest love to her lady: but now I have greater regardfor her than ever. Calamity, though a poor servant's calamity, willrather increase than diminish good will, with a truly generous master ormistress.
As to one of the young Sorling's attendance, there was nothing at allin proposing that; for if either of them had been chosen by her, andpermitted by the mother [two chances in that!] it would have been onlytill I had fixed upon another. And, if afterwards they had been loth topart, I could easily have given my beloved to a jealousy, which wouldhave done the business; or to the girl, who would have quitted hercountry dairy, such a relish for a London one, and as would have madeit very convenient for her to fall in love with Will; or perhaps I couldhave done still better for her with Lord M.'s chaplain, who is verydesirous of standing well with his lord's presumptive heir.
A blessing on thy honest heart, Lovelace! thou'lt say; for thou art forproviding for every body!
He gives an account of the serious part of their conversation, with no great variation from the Lady's account of it: and when he comes to that part of it, where he bids her remember, that reformation cannot be a sudden thing, he asks his friend:
Is not this fair play? Is it not dealing ingenuously? Then theobservation, I will be bold to say, is founded in truth and nature. Butthere was a little touch of policy in it besides; that the lady, if Ishould fly out again, should not think me too gross an hypocrite: for,as I plainly told her, I was afraid, that my fits of reformation werebut fits and sallies; but I hoped her example would fix them intohabits. But it is so discouraging a thing to have my monitress sovery good!--I protest I know not how to look up at her! Now, as I amthinking, if I could pull her down a little nearer to my own level;that is to say, could prevail upon her to do something that wouldargue imperfection, something to repent of; we should jog on muchmore equally, and be better able to comprehend one another: and so thecomfort would be mutual, and the remorse not all on one side.
He acknowledges that he was greatly affected and pleased with the Lady's serious arguments at the time: but even then was apprehensive that his temper would not hold. Thus he writes:
This lady says serious things in so agreeable a manner (and then hervoice is all harmony when she touches a subject she is pleased with)that I could have listened to her for half a day together. But yet I amafraid, if she falls, as they call it, she will lose a good deal of thatpathos, of that noble self-confidence, which gives a good person, as Inow see, a visible superiority over one not so good.
But, after all, Belford, I would fain know why people call suchfree-livers as you and me hypocrites.--That's a word I hate; and shouldtake it very ill to be called by it. For myself, I have as good motions,and, perhaps, have them as frequently as any body: all the business is,they don't hold; or, to speak more in character, I don't take the caresome do to conceal my lapses.