LETTER XXIX

  MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.[IN ANSWER TO LETTERS XXII. XXVI. XXVII. OF THIS VOLUME.]FRIDAY NIGHT, JULY 21.

  I will throw away a few paragraphs upon the contents of thy last shockingletters just brought me; and send what I shall write by the fellow whocarries mine on the interview with Hickman.

  Reformation, I see, is coming fast upon thee. Thy uncle's slow death,and thy attendance upon him through every stage towards it, prepared theefor it. But go thou on in thine own way, as I will in mine. Happinessconsists in being pleased with what we do: and if thou canst find delightin being sad, it will be as well for thee as if thou wert merry, thoughno other person should join to keep thee in countenance.

  I am, nevertheless, exceedingly disturbed at the lady's ill health. Itis entirely owing to the cursed arrest. She was absolutely triumphantover me and the whole crew before. Thou believest me guiltless of that:so, I hope, does she.--The rest, as I have often said, is a common case;only a little uncommonly circumstanced; that's all: Why, then, all thesesevere things from her, and from thee?

  As to selling her clothes, and her laces, and so forth, it has, I own, ashocking sound to it. What an implacable as well as unjust set ofwretches are those of her unkindredly kin, who have money of her's intheir hands, as well as large arrears of her own estate; yet with-holdboth, avowedly to distress her! But may she not have money of that proudand saucy friend of her's, Miss Howe, more than she wants?--And shouldnot I be overjoyed, thinkest thou, to serve her?----What then is there inthe parting with her apparel but female perverseness?--And I am not sure,whether I ought not to be glad, if she does this out of spite to me.--Some disappointed fair-ones would have hanged, some drowned themselves.My beloved only revenges herself upon her clothes. Different ways ofworking has passion in different bosoms, as humours or complexion induce.--Besides, dost think I shall grudge to replace, to three times thevalue, what she disposes of? So, Jack, there is no great matter in this.

  Thou seest how sensible she is of the soothings of the polite doctor:this will enable thee to judge how dreadfully the horrid arrest, and hergloomy father's curse, must have hurt her. I have great hope, if shewill but see me, that my behaviour, my contrition, my soothings, may havesome happy effect upon her.

  But thou art too ready to give up. Let me seriously tell thee that, allexcellence as she is, I think the earnest interposition of my relations;the implored mediation of that little fury Miss Howe; and the commissionsthou actest under from myself; are such instances of condescension andhigh value in them, and such contrition in me, that nothing farther canbe done.--So here let the matter rest for the present, till she considersbetter of it.

  But now a few words upon poor Belton's case. I own I was at first alittle startled at the disloyalty of his Thomasine. Her hypocrisy to befor so many years undetected!--I have very lately had some intimationsgiven me of her vileness; and had intended to mention them to thee when Isaw thee. To say the truth, I always suspected her eye: the eye, thouknowest, is the casement at which the heart generally looks out. Manya woman, who will not show herself at the door, has tipt the sly, theintelligible wink from the windows.

  But Tom. had no management at all. A very careless fellow. Would neverlook into his own affairs. The estate his uncle left him was his ruin:wife, or mistress, whoever was, must have had his fortune to sport with.

  I have often hinted his weakness of this sort to him; and the danger hewas in of becoming the property of designing people. But he hated totake pains. He would ever run away from his accounts; as now, poorfellow! he would be glad to do from himself. Had he not had a woman tofleece him, his coachman or valet, would have been his prime-minister,and done it as effectually.

  But yet, for many years, I thought she was true to his bed. At least Ithought the boys were his own. For though they are muscular, andbig-boned, yet I supposed the healthy mother might have furnished themwith legs and shoulders: for she is not of a delicate frame; and thenTom., some years ago, looked up, and spoke more like a man, than he hasdone of late; squeaking inwardly, poor fellow! for some time past, fromcontracted quail-pipes, and wheezing from lungs half spit away.

  He complains, thou sayest, that we all run away from him. Why, afterall, Belford, it is no pleasant thing to see a poor fellow one loves,dying by inches, yet unable to do him good. There are friendships whichare only bottle-deep: I should be loth to have it thought that mine forany of my vassals is such a one. Yet, with gay hearts, which becomeintimate because they were gay, the reason for their first intimacyceasing, the friendship will fade: but may not this sort of friendship bemore properly distinguished by the word companionship?

  But mine, as I said, is deeper than this: I would still be as ready asever I was in my life, to the utmost of my power, to do him service.

  As once instance of this my readiness to extricate him from all hisdifficulties as to Thomasine, dost thou care to propose to him anexpedient, that is just come into my head?

  It is this: I would engage Thomasine and her cubs (if Belton be convincedthey are neither of them his) in a party of pleasure. She was alwayscomplaisant to me. It should be in a boat, hired for the purpose, tosail to Tilbury, to the Isle Shepey, or pleasuring up the Medway; and'tis but contriving to turn the boat bottom upward. I can swim like afish. Another boat shall be ready to take up whom I should direct, forfear of the worst: and then, if Tom. has a mind to be decent, one suit ofmourning will serve for all three: Nay, the hostler-cousin may take hisplunge from the steerage: and who knows but they may be thrown up on thebeach, Thomasine and he, hand in hand?

  This, thou'lt say, is no common instance of friendship.

  Mean time, do thou prevail on him to come down to us: he never was morewelcome in his life than he shall be now. If he will not, let him findme some other service; and I will clap a pair of wings to my shoulders,and he shall see me come flying in at his windows at the word of command.

  Mowbray and Tourville each intend to give thee a letter; and I leave tothose rough varlets to handle thee as thou deservest, for the shockingpicture thou hast drawn of their last ends. Thy own past guilt hasstared thee full in the face, one may see by it; and made thee, inconsciousness of thy demerits, sketch out these cursed out-lines. I amglad thou hast got the old fiend to hold the glass* before thy own faceso soon. Thou must be in earnest surely, when thou wrotest it, and havesevere conviction upon thee: for what a hardened varlet must he be, whocould draw such a picture as this in sport?

  * See Letter XXVI. of this volume.

  As for thy resolution of repenting and marrying; I would have theeconsider which thou wilt set about first. If thou wilt follow my advice,thou shalt make short work of it: let matrimony take place of the other;for then thou wilt, very possibly, have repentance come tumbling in fastupon thee, as a consequence, and so have both in one.