LETTER LI
MR. BELFORD, TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ. FRIDAY, APRIL 21.
Thou, Lovelace, hast been long the entertainer; I the entertained. Norhave I been solicitous to animadvert, as thou wentest along, upon thyinventions, and their tendency. For I believed, that with all thy airs,the unequalled perfections and fine qualities of this lady would alwaysbe her protection and security. But now that I find thou hast so farsucceeded, as to induce her to come to town, and to choose her lodgingsin a house, the people of which will too probably damp and suppress anyhonourable motions which may arise in thy mind in her favour, I cannothelp writing, and that professedly in her behalf.
My inducements to this are not owing to virtue: But if they were, whathope could I have of affecting thee by pleas arising from it?
Nor would such a man as thou art be deterred, were I to remind theeof the vengeance which thou mayest one day expect, if thou insultest awoman of her character, family, and fortune.
Neither are gratitude and honour motives to be mentioned in a woman'sfavour, to men such as we are, who consider all those of the sex asfair prize, over honour, in the general acceptation of the word, are twothings.
What then is my motive?--What, but the true friendship that I bear thee,Lovelace; which makes me plead thy own sake, and thy family's sake, inthe justice thou owest to this incomparable creature; who, however,so well deserves to have her sake to be mentioned as the principalconsideration.
Last time I was at M. Hall, thy noble uncle so earnestly pressed me touse my interest to persuade thee to enter the pale, and gave me so manyfamily reasons for it, that I could not help engaging myself heartilyon his side of the question; and the rather, as I knew that thy ownintentions with regard to this fine woman were then worthy of her. Andof this I assured his Lordship; who was half afraid of thee, because ofthe ill usage thou receivedst from her family. But now, that the case isaltered, let me press the matter home to thee from other considerations.
By what I have heard of this lady's perfections from every mouth, aswell as from thine, and from every letter thou hast written, wherewilt thou find such another woman? And why shouldst thou tempt hervirtue?--Why shouldst thou wish to try where there is no reason todoubt?
Were I in thy case, and designed to marry, and if I preferred a womanas I know thou dost this to all the women in the world, I should readto make further trial, knowing what we know of the sex, for fear ofsucceeding; and especially if I doubted not, that if there were a womanin the world virtuous at heart, it is she.
And let me tell thee, Lovelace, that in this lady's situation, thetrial is not a fair trial. Considering the depth of thy plots andcontrivances: considering the opportunities which I see thou must havewith her, in spite of her own heart; all her relations' follies actingin concert, though unknown to themselves, with thy wicked, scheminghead: considering how destitute of protection she is: considering thehouse she is to be in, where she will be surrounded with thy implements;specious, well-bred and genteel creatures, not easily to be detectedwhen they are disposed to preserve appearances, especially by the younginexperienced lady wholly unacquainted with the town: considering allthese things, I say, what glory, what cause of triumph wilt thou have,if she should be overcome?--Thou, too, a man born for intrigue, fullof invention, intrepid, remorseless, able patiently to watch for thyopportunity, not hurried, as most men, by gusts of violent passion,which often nip a project in the bud, and make the snail, that was justputting out his horns to meet the inviter, withdraw into its shell--aman who has no regard to his word or oath to the sex; the ladyscrupulously strict to her word, incapable of art or design; apttherefore to believe well of others--it would be a miracle if she stoodsuch an attempter, such attempts, and such snares, as I see will belaid for her. And, after all, I see not when men are so frail withoutimportunity, that so much should be expected from women, daughters ofthe same fathers and mothers, and made up of the same brittle compounds,(education all the difference,) nor where the triumph is in subduingthem.
May there not be other Lovelaces, thou askest, who, attracted by herbeauty, may endeavour to prevail with her?*
* See Letter XVIII. of this volume.
No; there cannot, I answer, be such another man, person, mind, fortune,and thy character, as above given, taken in. If thou imaginest therecould, such is thy pride, that thou wouldst think the worse of thyself.
But let me touch upon thy predominant passion, revenge; for love is butsecond to that, as I have often told thee, though it has set thee intoraving at me: what poor pretences for revenge are the difficulties thouhadst in getting her off; allowing that she had run a risque of beingSolmes's wife, had she staid? If these are other than pretences, whythankest thou not those who, by their persecutions of her, answered thyhopes, and threw her into thy power?--Besides, are not the pretencesthou makest for further trial, most ungratefully, as well ascontradictorily founded upon the supposition of error in her, occasionedby her favour to thee?
And let me, for the utter confusion of thy poor pleas of this nature,ask thee--Would she, in thy opinion, had she willingly gone off withthee, have been entitled to better quarter?--For a mistress indeed shemight: but how wouldst thou for a wife have had cause to like her halfso well as now?
Has she not demonstrated, that even the highest provocations were notsufficient to warp her from her duty to her parents, though a native,and, as I may say, an originally involuntary duty, because native? Andis not this a charming earnest that she will sacredly observe a stillhigher duty into which she proposes to enter, when she does enter, byplighted vows, and entirely as a volunteer?
That she loves thee, wicked as thou art, and cruel as a panther, thereis no reason to doubt. Yet, what a command has she over herself, thatsuch a penetrating self-flatterer as thyself is sometimes ready to doubtit! Though persecuted on the one hand, as she was, by her own family,and attracted, on the other, by the splendour of thine; every one ofwhom courts her to rank herself among them!
Thou wilt perhaps think that I have departed from my proposition, andpleaded the lady's sake more than thine, in the above--but no suchthing. All that I have written is more in thy behalf than in her's;since she may make thee happy; but it is next to impossible, I shouldthink, if she preserve her delicacy, that thou canst make her so. Whatis the love of a rakish heart? There cannot be peculiarity in it. But Ineed not give my further reasons. Thou wilt have ingenuousness enough, Idare say, were there occasion for it, to subscribe to my opinion.
I plead not for the state from any great liking to it myself. Nor haveI, at present, thoughts of entering into it. But, as thou art the lastof thy name; as thy family is of note and figure in thy country; and asthou thyself thinkest that thou shalt one day marry: Is it possible, letme ask thee, that thou canst have such another opportunity as thou nowhast, if thou lettest this slip? A woman in her family and fortune notunworthy of thine own (though thou art so apt, from pride of ancestry,and pride of heart, to speak slightly of the families thou dislikest);so celebrated for beauty; and so noted at the same time for prudence,for soul, (I will say, instead of sense,) and for virtue?
If thou art not so narrow-minded an elf, as to prefer thine own singlesatisfaction to posterity, thou, who shouldst wish to beget children forduration, wilt not postpone till the rake's usual time; that is to say,till diseases or years, or both, lay hold of thee; since in that casethou wouldst entitle thyself to the curses of thy legitimate progenyfor giving them a being altogether miserable: a being which they willbe obliged to hold upon a worse tenure than that tenant-courtesy,which thou callest the worst;* to wit, upon the Doctor's courtesy;thy descendants also propagating (if they shall live, and be able topropagate) a wretched race, that shall entail the curse, or the reasonfor it, upon remote generations.
Wicked as the sober world accounts you and me, we have not yet, it isto be hoped, got over all compunction. Although we find religion againstus, we have not yet presumed those who do. And we know better than tobe even doubters. In short,
we believe a future state of rewards andpunishments. But as we have so much youth and health in hand, we hope tohave time for repentance. That is to say, in plain English, [nor thinkthou me too grave, Lovelace: thou art grave sometimes, though notoften,] we hope to live to sense, as long as sense can relish, andpurpose to reform when we can sin no longer.
And shall this admirable woman suffer for her generous endeavours to seton foot thy reformation; and for insisting upon proofs of the sincerityof thy professions before she will be thine?
Upon the whole matter, let me wish thee to consider well what thou artabout, before thou goest a step farther in the path which thou hastchalked out for thyself to tread, and art just going to enter upon.Hitherto all is so far right, that if the lady mistrusts thy honour, shehas no proofs. Be honest to her, then, in her sense of the word. None ofthy companions, thou knowest, will offer to laugh at what thou dost.And if they should (of thy entering into a state which has been so muchridiculed by thee, and by all of us) thou hast one advantage--it isthis, that thou canst not be ashamed.
Deferring to the post-day to close my letter, I find one left at mycousin Osgood's, with directions to be forwarded to the lady. Itwas brought within these two hours by a particular hand, and has aHarlowe-seal upon it. As it may therefore be of importance, I dispatchit with my own, by my servant, post-haste.*
* This letter was from Miss Arabella Harlowe. See Let. LV.
I suppose you will soon be in town. Without the lady, I hope. Farewell.
Be honest, and be happy, J. BELFORD.
SAT. APRIL 22.