Your Lordship knows, that there are many things which occasion a roar of
applause in conversation, when the heart is open, and men are resolved to
be merry, which will neither bear repeating, nor thinking of afterwards.
Common things, in the mouth of a man we admire, and whose wit has passed
upon us for sterling, become, in a gay hour, uncommon. We watch every
turn of such a one's countenance, and are resolved to laugh when he
smiles, even before he utters what we are expecting to flow from his
lips.
Mr. Doleman and his nephew took leave of us by twelve, Mowbray and
Tourville grew very noisy by one, and were carried off by two. Wine
never moves Mr. Lovelace, notwithstanding a vivacity which generally
helps on over-gay spirits. As to myself, the little part I had taken
in the gaiety kept me unconcerned.
The clock struck three before I could get him into any serious or
attentive way--so natural to him is gaiety of heart; and such strong
hold had the liveliness of the evening taken of him. His conversation,
you know, my Lord, when his heart is free, runs off to the bottom without
any dregs.
But after that hour, and when we thought of parting, he became a little
more serious: and then he told me his designs, and gave me a plan of his
intended tour; wishing heartily that I could have accompanied him.
We parted about four; he not a little dissatisfied with me; for we had
some talk about subjects, which, he said, he loved not to think of; to
whit, Miss Harlowe's will; my executorship; papers I had in confidence
communicated to that admirable lady (with no unfriendly design, I assure
your Lordship;) and he insisting upon, and I refusing, the return of the
letters he had written to me, from the time that he had made his first
addresses to her.
He would see me once again, he said; and it would be upon very ill terms
if I complied not with his request. Which I bid him not expect. But,
that I might not deny him every thing, I told him, that I would give him
a copy of the will; though I was sure, I said, when he read it, he would
wish he had never seen it.
I had a message from him about eleven this morning, desiring me to name
a place at which to dine with him, and Mowbray, and Tourville, for the
last time: and soon after another from Colonel Morden, inviting me to
pass the evening with him at the Bedford-head in Covent-Garden. And,
that I might keep them at distance from one another, I appointed Mr.
Lovelace at the Eagle in Suffolk-street.
There I met him, and the two others. We began where we left off at our
last parting; and were very high with each other. But, at last, all was
made up, and he offered to forget and forgive every thing, on condition
that I would correspond with him while abroad, and continue the series
which had been broken through by his illness; and particularly give him,
as I had offered, a copy of the lady's last will.
I promised him: and he then fell to rallying me on my gravity, and on my
reformation-schemes, as he called them. As we walked about the room,
expecting dinner to be brought in, he laid his hand upon my shoulder;
then pushed me from him with a curse; walking round me, and surveying me
from head to foot; then calling for the observations of the others, he
turned round upon his heel, and with one of his peculiar wild airs, 'Ha,
ha, ha, ha,' burst he out, 'that these sour-faced proselytes should take
it into their heads that they cannot be pious, without forfeiting both
their good-nature and good-manners!--Why, Jack,' turning me about,
'pr'ythee look up, man!--Dost thou not know, that religion, if it has
taken proper hold of the heart, is the most cheerful countenance-maker
in the world?--I have heard my beloved Miss Harlowe say so: and she knew,
or nobody did. And was not her aspect a benign proof of the observation?
But thy these wamblings in thy cursed gizzard, and thy awkward grimaces,
I see thou'rt but a novice in it yet!--Ah, Belford, Belford, thou hast
a confounded parcel of briers and thorns to trample over barefoot, before
religion will illuminate these gloomy features!'
I give your Lordship this account, in answer to your desire to know, if I
think him the man he was.
In our conversation at dinner, he was balancing whether he should set out
the next morning, or the morning after. But finding he had nothing to
do, and Col. Morden being in town, (which, however, I told him not of,) I
turned the scale; and he agreed upon setting out to-morrow morning; they
to see him embark; and I promised to accompany them for a morning's ride
(as they proposed their horses); but said, that I must return in the
afternoon.
With much reluctance they let me go to my evening's appointment: they
little thought with whom: for Mr. Lovelace had put it as a case of honour
to all of us, whether, as he had been told that Mr. Morden and Mr. James
Harlowe had thrown out menaces against him, he ought to leave the kingdom
till he had thrown himself in their way.
Mowbray gave his opinion, that he ought to leave it like a man of honour
as he was; and if he did not take those gentlemen to task for their
opprobrious speeches, that at least he should be seen by them in public
before he went away; else they might give themselves airs, as if he had
left the kingdom in fear of them.
To this he himself so much inclined, that it was with difficulty I
persuaded him, that, as they had neither of them proceeded to a direct
and formal challenge; as they knew he had not made himself difficult of
access; and as he had already done the family injury enough; and it was
Miss Harlowe's earnest desire, that he would be content with that; he had
no reason, from any point of honour, to delay his journey; especially as
he had so just a motive for his going, as the establishing of his health;
and as he might return the sooner, if he saw occasion for it.
I found the Colonel in a very solemn way. We had a good deal of
discourse upon the subject of certain letters which had passed between us
in relation to Miss Harlowe's will, and to her family. He has some
accounts to settle with his banker; which, he says, will be adjusted
to-morrow; and on Thursday he proposes to go down again, to take leave of
his friends; and then intends to set out directly for Italy.
I wish Mr. Lovelace could have been prevailed upon to take any other
tour, than that of France and Italy. I did propose Madrid to him; but he
laughed at me, and told me, that the proposal was in character from a
mule; and from one who was become as grave as a Spaniard of the old cut,
at ninety.
I expressed to the Colonel my apprehensions, that his cousin's dying
injunctions would not have the force upon him that were to be wished.
'They have great force upon me, Mr. Belford,' said he; 'or one world
would not have held Mr. Lovelace and me thus long. But my intention is
to go to Florence; and not to lay my bones there, as upon my cousin's
death I told you I thought to do; but to settle all my affairs in those
parts, and then to come over, and reside upon a little paternal estate in
Kent, which is strangely gone to ruin in my absence. Indeed, were I to
meet Mr. Lovelace, either here or abroad, I might not be answerable for
the consequence.'
He would have engaged me for to-morrow. But having promised to attend
Mr. Lovelace on his journey, as I have mentioned, I said, I was obliged
to go out of town, and was uncertain as to the time of my return in the
evening. And so I am to see him on Thursday morning at my own lodgings.
I will do myself the honour to write again to your Lordship to-morrow
night. Mean time, I am, my Lord,
Your Lordship's, &c.