LETTER LIII
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.
But now I have cleared myself of any intentional levity on occasion of mybeloved's meditation; which, as you observe, is finely suited to hercase, (that is to say, as she and you have drawn her case;) I cannot helpexpressing my pleasure, that by one or two verses of it, [the arrow,Jack, and what she feared being come upon her!] I am encouraged to hope,what it will be very surprising to me if it do not happen: that is, inplain English, that the dear creature is in the way to be a mamma.
This cursed arrest, because of the ill effects the terror might have hadupon her, in that hoped-for circumstance, has concerned me more than onany other account. It would be the pride of my life to prove, in thischarming frost-piece, the triumph of Nature over principle, and to have ayoung Lovelace by such an angel: and then, for its sake, I am confidentshe will live, and will legitimate it. And what a meritorious littlecherub would it be, that should lay an obligation upon both parentsbefore it was born, which neither of them would be able to repay!--CouldI be sure it is so, I should be out of all pain for her recovery: pain, Isay; since, were she to die--[die! abominable word! how I hate it!] Iverily think I should be the most miserable man in the world.
As for the earnestness she expresses for death, she has found the wordsready to her hand in honest Job; else she would not have deliveredherself with such strength and vehemence.
Her innate piety (as I have more than once observed) will not permit herto shorten her own life, either by violence or neglect. She has a mindtoo noble for that; and would have done it before now, had she designedany such thing: for to do it, like the Roman matron, when the mischief isover, and it can serve no end; and when the man, however a Tarquin, assome may think me in this action, is not a Tarquin in power, so that nonational point can be made of it; is what she has too much good sense tothink of.
Then, as I observed in a like case, a little while ago, the distress,when this was written, was strong upon her; and she saw no end of it: butall was darkness and apprehension before her. Moreover, has she it notin her power to disappoint, as much as she has been disappointed?Revenge, Jack, has induced many a woman to cherish a life, to which griefand despair would otherwise have put an end.
And, after all, death is no such eligible thing, as Job in hiscalamities, makes it. And a death desired merely from worldlydisappointments shows not a right mind, let me tell this lady, whatevershe may think of it.* You and I Jack, although not afraid, in the heightof passion or resentment, to rush into those dangers which might befollowed by a sudden and violent death, whenever a point of honour callsupon us, would shudder at his cool and deliberate approach in a lingeringsickness, which had debilitated the spirits.
* Mr. Lovelace could not know, that the lady was so thoroughly sensibleof the solidity of this doctrine, as she really was: for, in her letterto Mrs. Norton, (Letter XLIV. of this volume,) she says,--'Nor let it beimagined, that my present turn of mind proceeds from gloominess ormelancholy: for although it was brought on by disappointment, (the worldshowing me early, even at my first rushing into it, its true and uglyface,) yet I hope, that it has obtained a better root, and will every daymore and more, by its fruits, demonstrate to me, and to all my friends,that it has.'
So we read of a famous French general [I forget as well the reign of theprince as the name of the man] who, having faced with intrepidity theghastly varlet on an hundred occasions in the field, was the mostdejected of wretches, when, having forfeited his life for treason, he wasled with all the cruel parade of preparation, and surrounding guards, tothe scaffold.
The poet says well:
'Tis not the stoic lesson, got by rote, The pomp of words, and pedant dissertation, That can support us in the hour of terror. Books have taught cowards to talk nobly of it: But when the trial comes, they start, and stand aghast.
Very true: for then it is the old man in the fable, with his bundle ofsticks.
The lady is well read in Shakspeare, our English pride and glory; andmust sometimes reason with herself in his words, so greatly expressed,that the subject, affecting as it is, cannot produce any thing greater.
Ay, but to die, and go we know not where; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot; This sensible, warm motion to become A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice: To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, Or blown, with restless violence, about The pendant worlds; or to be worse than worst Of those that lawless and uncertain thought Imagines howling: 'tis too horrible! The weariest and most loaded worldly life, That pain, age, penury, and imprisonment, Can lay on nature, is a paradise To what we fear of death.----
I find, by one of thy three letters, that my beloved had some accountfrom Hickman of my interview with Miss Howe, at Col. Ambrose's. I had avery agreeable time of it there; although severely rallied by several ofthe assembly. It concerns me, however, not a little, to find our affairso generally known among the flippanti of both sexes. It is all her ownfault. There never, surely, was such an odd little soul as this.--Not tokeep her own secret, when the revealing of it could answer no possiblegood end; and when she wants not (one would think) to raise to herselfeither pity or friends, or to me enemies, by the proclamation!--Why,Jack, must not all her own sex laugh in their sleeves at her weakness?what would become of the peace of the world, if all women should take itinto their heads to follow her example? what a fine time of it would theheads of families have? Their wives always filling their ears with theirconfessions; their daughters with theirs: sisters would be every daysetting their brothers about cutting of throats, if the brothers had atheart the honour of their families, as it is called; and the whole worldwould either be a scene of confusion; or cuckoldom as much the fashion asit is in Lithuania.*
* In Lithuania, the women are said to have so allowedly their gallants,called adjutores, that the husbands hardly ever enter upon any part ofpleasure without them.
I am glad, however, that Miss Howe (as much as she hates me) kept herword with my cousins on their visit to her, and with me at the Colonel's,to endeavour to persuade her friend to make up all matters by matrimony;which, no doubt, is the best, nay, the only method she can take, for herown honour, and that of her family.
I had once thoughts of revenging myself on that vixen, and, particularly,as thou mayest* remember, had planned something to this purpose on thejourney she is going to take, which had been talked of some time. But, Ithink--let me see--yet, I think, I will let this Hickman have her safeand entire, as thou believest the fellow to be a tolerable sort of amortal, and that I have made the worst of him: and I am glad, for his ownsake, he has not launched out too virulently against me to thee.
* See Vol. IV. Letter LIV.
But thou seest, Jack, by her refusal of money from him, or Miss Howe,*that the dear extravagant takes a delight in oddnesses, choosing to partwith her clothes, though for a song. Dost think she is not a littletouched at times? I am afraid she is. A little spice of that insanity,I doubt, runs through her, that she had in a stronger degree, in thefirst week of my operations. Her contempt of life; her proclamations;her refusal of matrimony; and now of money from her most intimatefriends; are sprinklings of this kind, and no other way, I think, to beaccounted for.
* See Letter XLVIII. of this volume.
Her apothecary is a good honest fellow. I like him much. But the sillydear's harping so continually upon one string, dying, dying, dying, iswhat I have no patience with. I hope all this melancholy jargon is owingentirely to the way I would have her to be in. And it being as new toher, as the Bible beauties to thee,* no wonder she knows not what to makeof herself; and so fancies she is breeding death, when the event willturn out quite the contrary.
* See Letter XLVI. of this volume.
Thou art a sorry fellow in thy remarks on the education and qualificationof smarts and beau
x of the rakish order; if by thy we's and us's thoumeanest thyself or me:* for I pretend to say, that the picture has noresemblance of us, who have read and conversed as we have done. It mayindeed, and I believe it does, resemble the generality of the fops andcoxcombs about town. But that let them look to; for, if it affects notme, to what purpose thy random shot?--If indeed thou findest, by the newlight darted in upon thee, since thou hast had the honour of conversingwith this admirable creature, that the cap fits thy own head, why then,according to the qui capit rule, e'en take and clap it on: and I willadd a string of bells to it, to complete thee for the fore-horse of theidiot team.
* Ibid. and Letter LXVIII.
Although I just now said a kind thing or two for this fellow Hickman; yetI can tell thee, I could (to use one of my noble peer's humble phrases)eat him up without a corn of salt, when I think of his impudence tosalute my charmer twice at parting:* And have still less patience withthe lady herself for presuming to offer her cheek or lip [thou sayest notwhich] to him, and to press his clumsy fist between her charming hands.An honour worth a king's ransom; and what I would give--what would I notgive? to have!--And then he, in return, to press her, as thou sayest hedid, to his stupid heart; at that time, no doubt, more sensible, thanever it was before!
* See Letter XLVIII. of this volume.
By thy description of their parting, I see thou wilt be a delicate fellowin time. My mortification in this lady's displeasure, will be thyexaltation from her conversation. I envy thee as well for thyopportunities, as for thy improvements: and such an impression has thyconcluding paragraph* made upon me, that I wish I do not get into areformation-humour as well as thou: and then what a couple of lamentablepuppies shall we make, howling in recitative to each other's discordantmusic!
* Ibid.
Let me improve upon the thought, and imagine that, turned hermits, wehave opened the two old caves at Hornsey, or dug new ones; and in each ofour cells set up a death's head, and an hour-glass, for objects ofcontemplation--I have seen such a picture: but then, Jack, had not theold penitent fornicator a suffocating long grey beard? What figureswould a couple of brocaded or laced-waistcoated toupets make with theirsour screw'd up half-cock'd faces, and more than half shut eyes, in akneeling attitude, recapitulating their respective rogueries? Thisscheme, were we only to make trial of it, and return afterwards to ourold ways, might serve to better purpose by far, than Horner's in theCountry Wife, to bring the pretty wenches to us.
Let me see; the author of Hudibras has somewhere a description that wouldsuit us, when met in one of our caves, and comparing our dismal notestogether. This is it. Suppose me described--
--He sat upon his rump, His head like one in doleful dump: Betwixt his knees his hands apply'd Unto his cheeks, on either side: And by him, in another hole, Sat stupid Belford, cheek by jowl.
I know thou wilt think me too ludicrous. I think myself so. It istruly, to be ingenuous, a forced put: for my passions are so wound up,that I am obliged either to laugh or cry. Like honest drunken JackDaventry, [poor fellow!--What an unhappy end was his!]--thou knowest, Iused to observe, that whenever he rose from an entertainment, which henever did sober, it was his way, as soon as he got to the door, to lookround him like a carrier pigeon just thrown up, in order to spy out hiscourse; and then, taking to his heels, he would run all the way home,though it were a mile or two, when he could hardly stand, and must havetumbled on his nose if he had attempted to walk moderately. This thenmust be my excuse, in this my unconverted estate, for a conclusion sounworthy of the conclusion to thy third letter.
What a length have I run!--Thou wilt own, that if I pay thee not inquality, I do in quantity: and yet I leave a multitude of thingsunobserved upon. Indeed I hardly at this present know what to do withmyself but scribble. Tired with Lord M. who, in his recovery, has playedupon me the fable of the nurse, the crying child, and the wolf--tiredwith my cousins Montague, though charming girls, were they not so near ofkin--tired with Mowbray and Tourville, and their everlasting identity--tired with the country--tired of myself--longing for what I have not--Imust go to town; and there have an interview with the charmer of my soul:for desperate diseases must have desperate remedies; and I only wait toknow my doom from Miss Howe! and then, if it be rejection, I will try myfate, and receive my sentence at her feet.--But I will apprize thee of itbeforehand, as I told thee, that thou mayest keep thy parole with thelady in the best manner thou canst.
Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 7 Page 52
