LETTER XLVIII
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOSEPH LEMAN MONDAY, APRIL 17.
HONEST JOSEPH,
You have a worse opinion of your invention than you ought to have.I must praise it again. Of a plain man's head, I have not known manybetter than yours. How often have your forecast and discretion answeredmy wishes in cases which I could not foresee, not knowing how my generaldirections would succeed, or what might happen in the execution of them!You are too doubtful of your own abilities, honest Joseph; that's yourfault.--But it being a fault that is owing to natural modesty, you oughtrather to be pitied for it than blamed.
The affair of Miss Betterton was a youthful frolic. I love dearly toexercise my invention. I do assure you, Joseph, that I have ever hadmore pleasure in my contrivances, than in the end of them. I am nosensual man: but a man of spirit--one woman is like another--youunderstand me, Joseph.--In coursing, all the sport is made by thewinding hare--a barn-door chick is better eating--now you take me,Joseph.
Miss Betterton was but a tradesman's daughter. The family, indeed, wasgrown rich, and aimed at a new line of gentry; and were unreasonableenough to expect a man of my family would marry her. I was honest.I gave the young lady no hope of that; for she put it to me. Sheresented--kept up, and was kept up. A little innocent contrivance wasnecessary to get her out. But no rape in the case, I assure you, Joseph.She loved me--I loved her. Indeed, when I got her to the inn, I askedher no question. It is cruel to ask a modest woman for her consent. Itis creating difficulties to both. Had not her friends been officious, Ihad been constant and faithful to her to this day, as far as I know--forthen I had not known my angel.
I went not abroad upon her account. She loved me too well to haveappeared against me; she refused to sign a paper they had drawn up forher, to found a prosecution upon; and the brutal creatures would notpermit the mid-wife's assistance, till her life was in danger; and, Ibelieve, to this her death was owing.
I went into mourning for her, though abroad at the time. A distinction Ihave ever paid to those worthy creatures who dies in childbed by me.
I was ever nice in my loves.--These were the rules I laid down to myselfon my entrance into active life:--To set the mother above want, if herfriends were cruel, and if I could not get her a husband worthy of her:to shun common women--a piece of justice I owed to innocent ladies, aswell as to myself: to marry off a former mistress, if possible, beforeI took to a new one: to maintain a lady handsomely in her lying-in: toprovide for the little-one, if it lived, according to the degree of itsmother: to go into mourning for the mother, if she died. And the promiseof this was a great comfort to the pretty dears, as they grew near theirtimes.
All my errors, all my expenses, have been with and upon women. So Icould acquit my conscience (acting thus honourably by them) as well asmy discretion as to point of fortune.
All men love women--and find me a man of more honour, in these points,if you can, Joseph.
No wonder the sex love me as they do!
But now I am strictly virtuous. I am reformed. So I have been for along time, resolving to marry as soon as I can prevail upon the mostadmirable of women to have me. I think of nobody else--it is impossibleI should. I have spared very pretty girls for her sake. Very true,Joseph! So set your honest heart at rest--You see the pains I take tosatisfy your qualms.
But, as to Miss Betterton--no rape in the case, I repeat: rapes areunnatural things, and more are than are imagined, Joseph. I should beloth to be put to such a streight; I never was. Miss Betterton was takenfrom me against her own will. In that case her friends, not I, committedthe rape.
I have contrived to see the boy twice, unknown to the aunt whotakes care of him; loves him; and would not now part with him on anyconsideration. The boy is a fine boy I thank God. No father need beashamed of him. He will be well provided for. If not, I would takecare of him. He will have his mother's fortune. They curse the father,ungrateful wretches! but bless the boy--Upon the whole, there is nothingvile in this matter on my side--a great deal on the Bettertons.
Wherefore, Joseph, be not thou in pain, either for my head, or for thyown neck; nor for the Blue Boar; nor for the pretty Sow.
I love your jesting. Jesting better becomes a poor man than qualms.I love to have you jest. All we say, all we do, all we wish for, isa jest. He that makes life itself not so is a sad fellow, and has theworst of it.
I doubt not, Joseph, but you have had your joys, as you say, as wellas your betters. May you have more and more, honest Joseph!--Hethat grudges a poor man joy, ought to have none himself. Jest on,therefore.--Jesting, I repeat, better becomes thee than qualms.
I had no need to tell you of Miss Betterton. Did I not furnish you withstories enough, without hers, against myself, to augment your creditwith your cunning masters? Besides, I was loth to mention MissBetterton, her friends being all living, and in credit. I loved hertoo--for she was taken from me by her cruel friends, while our joys wereyoung.
But enough of dear Miss Betterton.--Dear, I say; for deathendears.--Rest to her worthy soul!--There, Joseph, off went a deep sighto the memory of Miss Betterton!
As to the journey of little Titus, (I now recollect the fellow by hisname) let that take its course: a lady dying in childbed eighteenmonths ago; no process begun in her life-time; refusing herself to giveevidence against me while she lived--pretty circumstances to found anindictment for a rape upon!
As to your young lady, the ever-admirable Miss Clarissa Harlowe, Ialways courted her for a wife. Others rather expected marriage fromthe vanity of their own hearts, than from my promises; for I was alwayscareful of what I promised. You know, Joseph, that I have gone beyond mypromises to you. I do to every body; and why? because it is the bestway of showing that I have no grudging or narrow spirit. A promise isan obligation. A just man will keep his promise, a generous man will gobeyond it.--This is my rule.
If you doubt my honour to your young lady, it is more than she does. Shewould not stay with me an hour if she did. Mine is the steadiestheart in the world. Hast thou not reason to think it so? Why thissqueamishness then, honest Joseph?
But it is because thou art honest--so I forgive thee. Whoever loves mydivine Clarissa, loves me.
Let James Harlowe call me what names he will, for his sister's sake Iwill bear them. Do not be concerned for me; her favour will make me richamends; his own vilely malicious heart will make his blood boil overat any time; and when it does, thinkest thou that I will let it touchthine? Ah! Joseph, Joseph! what a foolish teaser is thy conscience! Sucha conscience as gives a plain man trouble, when he intends to do for thebest, is weakness, not conscience.
But say what thou wilt, write all thou knowest or hearest of to me, I'llhave patience with every body. Why should I not, when it is as much thedesire of my heart, as it is of thine, to prevent mischief?
So now, Joseph, having taken all this pains to satisfy thy conscience,and answer all thy doubts, and to banish all thy fears, let me come to anew point.
Your endeavours and mine, which were designed, by round-about ways, toreconcile all, even against the wills of the most obstinate, havenot, we see answered the end we hoped they would answer; but, on thecontrary, have widened the differences between our families. But thishas not been either your fault or mine: it is owing to the black,pitch-like blood of your venomous-hearted young master, boiling over, ashe owns, that our honest wishes have hitherto been frustrated.
Yet we must proceed in the same course. We shall tire them out in time,and they will propose terms; and when they do, they shall find out howreasonable mine shall be, little as they deserve from me.
Persevere, therefore, Joseph, honest Joseph, persevere; and unlikely asyou may imagine the means, our desires will at last be obtained.
We have nothing for it now, but to go through with our work in the waywe have begun. For since (as I told you in my last) my beloved mistrustsyou, she will blow you up, if she be not mine; if she be, I can, andwill, protect you; and as, if there will be any fault, in her opi
nion,it will be rather mine than yours, she must forgive you, and keep herhusband's secrets, for the sake of his reputation; else she will beguilty of a great failure in her duty. So now you have set your hand tothe plough, Joseph, there is no looking back.
And what is the consequence of all this: one labour more, and that willbe all that will fall to your lot; at least, of consequence.
My beloved is resolved not to think of marriage till she has triedto move her friends to a reconciliation with her. You know they aredetermined not to be reconciled. She has it in her head, I doubt not,to make me submit to the people I hate; and if I did, they would ratherinsult me, than receive my condescension as they ought. She even owns,that she will renounce me, if they insist upon it, provided they willgive up Solmes: so, to all appearance, I am still as far as ever fromthe happiness of calling her mine; Indeed I am more likely than ever tolose her, (if I cannot contrive some way to avail myself of the presentcritical situation;) and then, Joseph, all I have been studying, and allyou have been doing, will signify nothing.
At the place where we are, we cannot long be private. The lodgingsare inconvenient for us, while both together, and while she refusesto marry. She wants to get me at a distance from her; there areextraordinary convenient lodgings, in my eye, in London, where wecould be private, and all mischief avoided. When there, (if I gether thither,) she will insist that I leave her. Miss Howe is for everputting her upon contrivances. That, you know, is the reason I have beenobliged, by your means, to play the family off at Harlowe-place uponMrs. Howe, and Mrs. Howe upon her daughter--Ah, Joseph! Little need foryour fears for my angel! I only am in danger: but were I the free-liverI am reported to be, all this could I get over with a wet finger, as thesaying is.
But, by the help of one of your hints, I have thought of an expedientwhich will do ever thing, and raise your reputation, though alreadyso high, higher still. This Singleton, I hear, is a fellow who lovesenterprising: the view he has to get James Harlowe to be his principalowner in a large vessel which he wants to be put into the command of,may be the subject of their present close conversation. But since heis taught to have so good an opinion of you, Joseph, cannot you (stillpretending an abhorrence of me, and of my contrivances) propose toSingleton to propose to James Harlowe (who so much thirsts for revengeupon me) to assist him, with his whole ship's crew, upon occasion, tocarry off his sister to Leith, where both have houses, or elsewhere?
You may tell them, that if this can be effected, it will make me ravingmad; and bring your young lady into all their measures.
You can inform them, as from my servant, of the distance she keeps meat, in hopes of procuring her father's forgiveness, by cruelly giving meup, if insisted upon.
You can tell them, that as the only secret my servant has kept from youis the place we are in, you make no doubt, that a two-guinea bribe willbring that out, and also an information when I shall be at a distancefrom her, that the enterprise may be conducted with safety.
You may tell them, (still as from my servant,) that we are about toremove from inconvenient lodgings to others more convenient, (which istrue,) and that I must be often absent from her.
If they listen to your proposal, you will promote your interest withBetty, by telling it to her as a secret. Betty will tell Arabella ofit; Arabella will be overjoyed at any thing that will help forward herrevenge upon me; and will reveal it (if her brother do not) to her uncleAntony; he probably will whisper it to Mrs. Howe; she can keep nothingfrom her daughter, though they are always jangling. Her daughter willacquaint my beloved with it. And if it will not, or if it will, come tomy ears from some of those, you can write it to me, as in confidence, byway of preventing msicheif; which is the study of us both.
I can then show it to my beloved; then will she be for placing a greaterconfidence in me--that will convince me of her love, which I am nowsometimes ready to doubt. She will be for hastening to the saferlodgings. I shall have a pretence to stay about her person, as a guard.She will be convinced that there is no expectation to be had of areconciliation. You can give James Harlowe and Singleton continual falsescents, as I shall direct you; so that no mischief can possibly happen.
And what will be the happy, happy, thrice happy consequence?--The ladywill be mine in an honourable way, we shall all be friends in good time.The two guineas will be an agreeable addition to the many gratuities Ihave helped you to, by the like contrivances, from this stingy family.Your reputation, both for head and heart, as I hinted before, will beheightened. The Blue Boar also will be yours; nor shall you have theleast difficulty about raising money to buy the stock, if it be worthyour while to have it.
Betty will likewise then be yours. You have both saved money, it seems.The whole Harlowe family, whom you have so faithfully served, ['tisserving them, surely, to prevent the mischief which their violentson would have brought upon them,] will throw you in somewhat towardshousekeeping. I will still add to your store--so nothing but happinessbefore you!
Crow, Joseph, crow!--a dunghill of thy own in view; servants to snub atthy pleasure; a wife to quarrel with, or to love, as thy humour leadsthee; Landlord and Landlady at every word; to be paid, instead ofpaying, for thy eating and drinking. But not thus happy only in thyself:happy in promoting peace and reconciliation between two good families,in the long run, without hurting any christian soul. O Joseph, honestJoseph! what envy wilt thou raise, and who would be squeamish with suchprospects before him.
This one labour, I repeat, crowns the work. If you can get but such adesign entertained by them, whether they prosecute it or not, it will beequally to the purpose of
Your loving friend, R. LOVELACE.