LETTER XXXVI
LORD M., TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.[ENCLOSED IN THE PRECEDING.]M. HALL, MONDAY, MAY 15.
SIR,
If any man in the world has power over my nephew, it is you. I thereforewrite this, to beg you to interfere in the affair depending between himand the most accomplished of women, as every one says; and what every onesays must be true.
I don't know that he has any bad designs upon her; but I know his tempertoo well, not to be apprehensive upon such long delays: and the ladieshere have been for some time in fear for her: Lady Sarah in particular,who (as you must know) is a wise woman, says, that these delays, in thepresent case, must be from him, rather than from the lady.
He had always indeed a strong antipathy to marriage, and may think ofplaying his dog's tricks by her, as he has by so many others. If there'sany danger of this, 'tis best to prevent it in time: for when a thing isdone, advice comes too late.
He has always had the folly and impertinence to make a jest of me forusing proverbs: but as they are the wisdom of whole nations and agescollected into a small compass, I am not to be shamed out of sentencesthat often contain more wisdom in them than the tedious harangues of mostof our parsons and moralists. Let him laugh at them, if he pleases: youand I know better things, Mr. Belford--Though you have kept company witha wolf, you have not learnt to howl of him.
But nevertheless, you must let him know that I have written to you onthis subject. I am ashamed to say it; but he has ever treated me as if Iwere a man of very common understanding; and would, perhaps, think neverthe better of the best advice in the world for coming from me. Those,Mr. Belford, who most love, are least set by.--But who would expectvelvet to be made out of a sow's ear?
I am sure he has no reason however to slight me as he does. He may andwill be the better for me, if he outlives me; though he once told me tomy face, that I might do as I would with my estate; for that he, for hispart, loved his liberty as much as he despised money. And at anothertime, twitting me with my phrases, that the man was above controul, whowanted not either to borrow or flatter. He thought, I suppose, that Icould not cover him with my wings, without pecking at him with my bill;though I never used to be pecking at him, without very great occasion:and, God knows, he might have my very heart, if he would but endeavourto oblige me, by studying his own good; for that is all I desire of him.Indeed, it was his poor mother that first spoiled him; and I have beenbut too indulgent to him since. A fine grateful disposition, you'll say,to return evil for good! but that was always his way. It is a goodsaying, and which was verified by him with a witness--Children whenlittle, make their parents fools; when great, mad. Had his parents livedto see what I have seen of him, they would have been mad indeed.
This match, however, as the lady has such an extraordinary share ofwisdom and goodness, might set all to rights; and if you can forward it,I would enable him to make whatever settlements he could wish; and shouldnot be unwilling to put him in possession of another pretty estatebesides. I am no covetous man, he knows. And, indeed, what is acovetous man to be likened to so fitly, as to a dog in a wheel whichroasts meat for others? And what do I live for, (as I have often said,)but to see him and my two nieces well married and settled. May Heavensettle him down to a better mind, and turn his heart to more of goodnessand consideration!
If the delays are on his side, I tremble for the lady; and, if on hers,(as he tells my niece Charlotte,) I could wish she were apprized thatdelays are dangerous. Excellent as she is, she ought not to depend onher merits with such a changeable fellow, and such a profest marriage-hater, as he has been. Desert and reward, I can assure her, seldom keepcompany together.
But let him remember, that vengeance though it comes with leaden feet,strikes with iron hands. If he behaves ill in this case, he may find itso. What a pity it is, that a man of his talents and learning should beso vile a rake! Alas! alas! Une poign?e de bonne vie vaut mieux queplein muy de clerg?e; a handful of good life is better than a wholebushel of learning.
You may throw in, too, as a friend, that, should he provoke me, it maynot be too late for me to marry. My old friend Wycherly did so, when hewas older than I am, on purpose to plague his nephew: and, in spite ofthis gout, I might have a child or two still. I have not been withoutsome thoughts that way, when he has angered me more than ordinary: butthese thoughts have gone off again hitherto, upon my considering, thatthe children of very young and very old men (though I am not so very oldneither) last not long; and that old men, when they marry young women,are said to make much of death: Yet who knows but that matrimony might begood against the gouty humours I am troubled with?
No man is every thing--you, Mr. Belford, are a learned man. I am a peer.And do you (as you best know how) inculcate upon him the force of thesewise sayings which follow, as well as those which went before; but yet soindiscreetly, as that he may not know that you borrow your darts from myquiver. These be they--Happy is the man who knows his follies in hisyouth. He that lives well, lives long. Again, He that lives ill oneyear, will sorrow for it seven. And again, as the Spaniards have it--Wholives well, sees afar off! Far off indeed; for he sees into eternity, asa man may say. Then that other fine saying, He who perishes in needlessdangers, is the Devil's martyr. Another proverb I picked up at Madrid,when I accompanied Lord Lexington in his embassy to Spain, which mightteach my nephew more mercy and compassion than is in his nature I doubtto shew; which is this, That he who pities another, remembers himself.And this that is going to follow, I am sure he has proved the truth of ahundred times, That he who does what he will seldom does what he ought.Nor is that unworthy of his notice, Young men's frolics old men feel. Mydevilish gout, God help me--but I will not say what I was going to say.
I remember, that you yourself, complimenting me for my taste in pithy andwise sentences, said a thing that gave me a high opinion of you; and itwas this: 'Men of talents,' said you, 'are sooner to be convinced byshort sentences than by long preachments, because the short sentencesdrive themselves into the heart and stay there, while long discourses,though ever so good, tire the attention; and one good thing drives outanother, and so on till all is forgotten.'
May your good counsel, Mr. Belford, founded upon these hints which I havegiven, pierce his heart, and incite him to do what will be so happy forhimself, and so necessary for the honour of that admirable lady whom Ilong to see his wife; and, if I may, I will not think of one for myself.
Should he abuse the confidence she has placed in him, I myself shallpray, that vengeance may fall upon his head--Raro--I quite forget all myLatin; but I think it is, Raro antecedentem scelestum deseruit pede paeanclaudo: where vice goes before, vengeance (sooner or later) will follow.But why do I translate these things for you?
I shall make no apologies for this trouble. I know how well you love himand me; and there is nothing in which you could serve us both moreimportantly, than in forwarding this match to the utmost of your power.When it is done, how shall I rejoice to see you at M. Hall! Mean time, Ishall long to hear that you are likely to be successful with him; and am,
Dear Sir,Your most faithful friend and servant,M.
[Mr. Lovelace having not returned an answer to Mr. Belford's expostulary letter so soon as Mr. Belford expected, he wrote to him, expressing his apprehension that he had disobliged him by his honest freedom. Among other things, he says--]
I pass my time here at Watford, attending my dying uncle, very heavily.I cannot therefore, by any means, dispense with thy correspondence. Andwhy shouldst thou punish me, for having more conscience and more remorsethan thyself? Thou who never thoughtest either conscience or remorse anhonour to thee. And I have, besides, a melancholy story to tell thee, inrelation to Belton and his Thomasine; and which may afford a lesson toall the keeping-class.
I have a letter from each of our three companions in the time. They haveall the wickedness that thou hast, but not the wit. Some new rogueriesdo two of them boast of, which, I think, if completed, deserv
e thegallows.
I am far from hating intrigue upon principle. But to have awkwardfellows plot, and commit their plots to paper, destitute of theseasonings, of the acumen, which is thy talent, how extremely shockingmust their letters be!--But do thou, Lovelace, whether thou art, or artnot, determined upon thy measures with regard to the fine lady in thypower, enliven my heavy heart by thy communications; and thou wilt oblige
Thy melancholy friend,J. BELFORD.
Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 4 Page 38
