I do myself the honour to send you by this, according to my promise,*
copies of the posthumous letters written by your exalted friend.
* See Letter XXXVI. of this volume.
These will be accompanied with other letters, particularly a copy of one
from Mr. Lovelace, begun to be written on the 14th, and continued down to
the 18th.* You will see by it, Madam, the dreadful anguish that his
spirits labour with, and his deep remorse.
* See Letter XXXVII. ibid.
Mr. Lovelace sent for this letter back. I complied; but I first took a
copy of it. As I have not told him that I have done so, you will be
pleased to forbear communicating of it to any body but Mr. Hickman. That
gentleman's perusal of it will be the same as if nobody but yourself saw
it.
One of the letters of Colonel Morden, which I enclose, you will observe,
Madam, is only a copy.* The true reason for which, as I will ingenuously
acknowledge, is, some free, but respectful animadversions which the
Colonel has made upon your declining to carry into execution your part of
your dear friend's last requests. I have therefore, in respect to that
worthy gentleman, (having a caution from him on that head,) omitted those
parts.
* The preceding Letter.
Will you allow me, Madam, however, to tell you, that I myself could not
have believed that my inimitable testatrix's own Miss Howe would have
been the most backward in performing such a part of her dear friend's
last will, as is entirely in her own power to perform--especially, when
that performance would make one of the most deserving men in England
happy; and whom, I presume, she proposes to honour with her hand.
Excuse me, Madam, I have a most sincere veneration for you; and would not
disoblige you for the world.
I will not presume to make remarks on the letters I send you; nor upon
the informations I have to give you of the dreadful end of two unhappy
wretches who were the greatest criminals in the affair of your adorable
friend. These are the infamous Sinclair, and a person whom you have read
of, no doubt, in the letters of the charming innocent, by the name of
Captain Tomlinson.
The wretched woman died in the extremest tortures and despondency: the
man from wounds got in defending himself in carrying on a contraband
trade; both accusing themselves, in their last hours, for the parts they
had acted against the most excellent of women, as of the crime that gave
them the deepest remorse.
Give me leave to say, Madam, that if your compassion be not excited for
the poor man who suffers so greatly from his own anguish of mind, as you
will observe by his letter he does; and for the unhappy family, whose
remorse, you will see by Colonel Morden's, is so deep; your terror must.
And yet I should not wonder, if the just sense of the irreparable loss
you have sustained hardens a heart against pity, which, on a less
extraordinary occasion, would want its principal grace, if it were not
compassionate.
I am, Madam, with the greatest respect and gratitude,
Your most obliged and faithful humble servant,
J. BELFORD.