LETTER XIX

  MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.WEDN. EVENING.

  I have been reading thy shocking letter--Poor Belton! what a multitude oflively hours have we passed together! He was a fearless, cheerfulfellow: who'd have thought all that should end in such dejectedwhimpering and terror?

  But why didst thou not comfort the poor man about the rencounter betweenhim and that poltroon Metcalfe? He acted in that affair like a man oftrue honour, and as I should have acted in the same circumstances. Tellhim I say so; and that what happened he could neither help nor foresee.

  Some people are as sensible of a scratch from a pin's point, as othersfrom a push of a sword: and who can say any thing for the sensibility ofsuch fellows? Metcalfe would resent for his sister, when his sisterresented not for herself. Had she demanded her brother's protection andresentment, that would have been another man's matte, to speak in LordM.'s phrase: but she herself thought her brother a coxcomb to busyhimself undesired in her affairs, and wished for nothing but to beprovided for decently and privately in her lying-in; and was willing totake the chance of Maintenon-ing his conscience in her favour,* andgetting him to marry when the little stranger came; for she knew whatan easy, good-natured fellow he was. And indeed if she had prevailedupon him, it might have been happy for both; as then he would not havefallen in with his cursed Thomasine. But truly this officious brother ofher's must interpose. This made a trifling affair important: And whatwas the issue? Metcalfe challenged; Belton met him; disarmed him; gavehim his life: but the fellow, more sensible in his skin than in his head,having received a scratch, was frighted: it gave him first a puke, thena fever, and then he died, that was all. And how could Belton help that?--But sickness, a long tedious sickness, will make a bugbear of any thingto a languishing heart, I see that. And so far was Mowbray a-propos inthe verses from Nat. Lee, which thou hast described.

  * Madam Maintenon was reported to have prevailed upon Lewis XIV. ofFrance, in his old age, (sunk, as he was, by ill success in the field,)to marry her, by way of compounding with his conscience for the freedomsof his past life, to which she attributed his public losses.

  Merely to die, no man of reason fears, is a mistake, say thou, or saythy author, what ye will. And thy solemn parading about the naturalrepugnance between life and death, is a proof that it is.

  Let me tell thee, Jack, that so much am I pleased with this world, inthe main; though, in some points too, the world (to make a person of it,)has been a rascal to me; so delighted am I with the joys of youth; withmy worldly prospects as to fortune; and now, newly, with the charminghopes given me by my dear, thrice dear, and for ever dear CLARISSA; thatwere I even sure that nothing bad would come hereafter, I should be veryloth (very much afraid, if thou wilt have it so,) to lay down my lifeand them together; and yet, upon a call of honour, no man fears deathless than myself.

  But I have not either inclination or leisure to weigh thy leadenarguments, except in the pig, or, as thou wouldst say, in the lump.

  If I return thy letters, let me have them again some time hence, that isto say, when I am married, or when poor Belton is half forgotten; or whentime has enrolled the honest fellow among those whom we have so longlost, that we may remember them with more pleasure than pain; and then Imay give them a serious perusal, and enter with thee as deeply as thouwilt into the subject.

  When I am married, said I?--What a sound has that!

  I must wait with patience for a sight of this charming creature, till sheis at her father's. And yet, as the but blossoming beauty, as thoutellest me, is reduced to a shadow, I should have been exceedinglydelighted to see her now, and every day till the happy one; that I mighthave the pleasure of observing how sweetly, hour by hour, she will riseto her pristine glories, by means of that state of ease and contentment,which will take place of the stormy past, upon her reconciliation withher friends, and our happy nuptials.