LETTER I
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.SAT. MIDNIGHT.
No rest, says a text that I once heard preached upon, to the wicked--andI cannot close my eyes (yet only wanted to compound for half an hour inan elbow-chair)--so must scribble on.
I parted with the Captain after another strong debate with him inrelation to what is to be the fate of this lady. As the fellow has anexcellent head, and would have made an eminent figure in any station oflife, had not his early days been tainted with a deep crime, and hedetected in it; and as he had the right side of the argument; I had agood deal of difficulty with him; and at last brought myself to promise,that if I could prevail upon her generously to forgive me, and toreinstate me in her favour, I would make it my whole endeavour to get offof my contrivances, as happily as I could; (only that Lady Betty andCharlotte must come;) and then substituting him for her uncle's proxy,take shame to myself, and marry.
But if I should, Jack, (with the strongest antipathy to the state thatever man had,) what a figure shall I make in rakish annals? And can Ihave taken all this pains for nothing? Or for a wife only, that, howeverexcellent, [and any woman, do I think I could make good, because I couldmake any woman fear as well as love me,] might have been obtained withoutthe plague I have been at, and much more reputably than with it? Andhast thou not seen, that this haughty woman [forgive me that I call herhaughty! and a woman! Yet is she not haughty?] knows not how to forgivewith graciousness? Indeed has not at all forgiven me? But holds my soulin a suspense which has been so grievous to her own.
At this silent moment, I think, that if I were to pursue my formerscheme, and resolve to try whether I cannot make a greater fault serve asa sponge to wipe out the less; and then be forgiven for that; I canjustify myself to myself; and that, as the fair invincible would say, isall in all.
As it is my intention, in all my reflections, to avoid repeating, atleast dwelling upon, what I have before written to thee, though the stateof the case may not have varied; so I would have thee to re-consider theold reasonings (particularly those contained in my answer to thy last*expostulatory nonsense); and add the new as they fall from my pen; andthen I shall think myself invincible;--at least, as arguing rake to rake.
* See Vol. V. Letter XIV.
I take the gaining of this lady to be essential to my happiness: and isit not natural for all men to aim at obtaining whatever they think willmake them happy, be the object more or less considerable in the eyes ofothers?
As to the manner of endeavouring to obtain her, by falsification ofoaths, vows, and the like--do not the poets of two thousand years andupwards tell us, that Jupiter laughs at the perjuries of lovers? And letme add, to what I have heretofore mentioned on that head, a question ortwo.
Do not the mothers, the aunts, the grandmothers, the governesses of thepretty innocents, always, from their very cradles to riper years, preachto them the deceitfulness of men?--That they are not to regard theiroaths, vows, promises?--What a parcel of fibbers would all these reverendmatrons be, if there were not now and then a pretty credulous rogue takenin for a justification of their preachments, and to serve as a beaconlighted up for the benefit of the rest?
Do we not then see, that an honest prowling fellow is a necessary evil onmany accounts? Do we not see that it is highly requisite that a sweetgirl should be now-and-then drawn aside by him?--And the more eminent thegirl, in the graces of person, mind, and fortune, is not the examplelikely to be the more efficacious?
If these postulata be granted me, who, I pray, can equal my charmer inall these? Who therefore so fit for an example to the rest of her sex?--At worst, I am entirely within my worthy friend Mandeville's assertion,that private vices are public benefits.
Well, then, if this sweet creature must fall, as it is called, for thebenefit of all the pretty fools of the sex, she must; and there's an endof the matter. And what would there have been in it of uncommon or rare,had I not been so long about it?--And so I dismiss all furtherargumentation and debate upon the question: and I impose upon thee, whenthou writest to me, an eternal silence on this head.
Wafer'd on, as an after-written introduction to the paragraphs whichfollow, marked with turned commas, [thus, ']:
Lord, Jack, what shall I do now! How one evil brings on another!Dreadful news to tell thee! While I was meditating a simple robbery,here have I (in my own defence indeed) been guilty of murder!--A bl--ymurder! So I believe it will prove. At her last gasp!--Poor impertinentopposer!--Eternally resisting!--Eternally contradicting! There she liesweltering in her blood! her death's wound have I given her!--But she wasa thief, an impostor, as well as a tormentor. She had stolen my pen.While I was sullenly meditating, doubting, as to my future measures, shestole it; and thus she wrote with it in a hand exactly like my own; andwould have faced me down, that it was really my own hand-writing.
'But let me reflect before it is too late. On the manifold perfectionsof this ever-amiable creature let me reflect. The hand yet is only heldup. The blow is not struck. Miss Howe's next letter may blow thee up.In policy thou shouldest be now at least honest. Thou canst not livewithout her. Thou wouldest rather marry her than lose her absolutely.Thou mayest undoubtedly prevail upon her, inflexible as she seems to be,for marriage. But if now she finds thee a villain, thou mayest nevermore engage her attention, and she perhaps will refuse and abhor thee.
'Yet already have I not gone too far? Like a repentant thief, afraid ofhis gang, and obliged to go on, in fear of hanging till he comes to behanged, I am afraid of the gang of my cursed contrivances.
'As I hope to live, I am sorry, (at the present writing,) that I havebeen such a foolish plotter, as to put it, as I fear I have done, out ofmy own power to be honest. I hate compulsion in all forms; and cannotbear, even to be compelled to be the wretch my choice has made me! Sonow, Belford, as thou hast said, I am a machine at last, and no freeagent.
'Upon my soul, Jack, it is a very foolish thing for a man of spirit tohave brought himself to such a height of iniquity, that he must proceed,and cannot help himself, and yet to be next to certain, that this veryvictory will undo him.
'Why was such a woman as this thrown into my way, whose very fall willbe her glory, and, perhaps, not only my shame but my destruction?
'What a happiness must that man know, who moves regularly to somelaudable end, and has nothing to reproach himself with in his progressto do it! When, by honest means, he attains his end, how great andunmixed must be his enjoyments! What a happy man, in this particularcase, had I been, had it been given me to be only what I wished to appearto be!'
Thus far had my conscience written with my pen; and see what a recreantshe had made of me!--I seized her by the throat--There!--There, said I,thou vile impertinent!--take that, and that!--How often have I gave theewarning!--and now, I hope, thou intruding varletess, have I done thybusiness!
Puling and low-voiced, rearing up thy detested head, in vain implorestthou my mercy, who, in thy day hast showed me so little!--Take that, fora rising blow!--And now will thy pain, and my pain for thee, soon beover. Lie there!--Welter on!--Had I not given thee thy death's wound,thou wouldest have robbed me of all my joys. Thou couldest not havemended me, 'tis plain. Thou couldest only have thrown me into despair.Didst thou not see, that I had gone too far to recede?--Welter on, oncemore I bid thee!--Gasp on!--That thy last gasp, surely!--How hard diestthou!
ADIEU!--Unhappy man! ADIEU!
'Tis kind in thee, however, to bid me, Adieu!
Adieu, Adieu, Adieu, to thee, O thou inflexible, and, till now,unconquerable bosom intruder!--Adieu to thee for ever!