Oppose not rage, whilst rage is in its force;
But give it way awhile, and let it waste.
The rising deluge is not stopped with dams;
Those it o’erbears, and drowns the hope of harvest.
But, wisely manag’d, its divided strength
Is sluic’d in channels, and securely drain’d:
And when its force is spent, and unsupply’d,
The residue with mounds may be restrain’d,
And dry-shod we may pass the naked ford.
I went down with the women to dinner. Mrs. Moore sent her fair boarder up a plate, but she only ate a little bit of bread, and drank a glass of water. I doubted not but she would keep her word, when it was once gone out. Is she not an Harlowe? She seems to be enuring herself to hardships, which at the worst she can never know; since, though she should ultimately refuse to be obliged to me, or (to express myself more suitable to my own heart), to oblige me, everyone who sees her must befriend her.
But let me ask thee, Belford, Art thou not solicitous for me in relation to the contents of the letter which the angry beauty had written and dispatched away by man and horse; and for what may be Miss Howe’s answer to it? Art thou not ready to inquire, Whether it be not likely that Miss Howe, when she knows of her saucy friend’s flight, will be concerned about her letter, which she must know could not be at Wilson’s till after that flight, and so, probably, would fall into my hands?—
All these things, as thou’lt see in the sequel, are provided for with as much contrivance as human foresight can admit.
I have already told thee that Will is upon the lookout for old Grimes—old Grimes is, it seems, a gossiping, sottish rascal; and if Will can but light of him, I’ll answer for the consequence; For has not Will been my servant upwards of seven years?
Letter 236
Mr. Lovelace
[In continuation]
We had at dinner, besides Miss Rawlins, a young widow-niece of Mrs. Moore, who is come to stay a month with her aunt—Bevis her name; very forward, very lively, and a great admirer of me, I assure you;—hanging smirkingly upon all I said; and prepared to approve of every word before I spoke: and who, by the time we had half-dined, (by the help of what she had collected before), was as much acquainted with our story as either of the other two.
As it behoved me to prepare them in my favour against whatever might come from Miss Howe, I improved upon the hint I had thrown out above-stairs against that mischief-making lady. I represented her to be an arrogant creature, revengeful, artful, enterprising, and one who, had she been a man, would have sworn and cursed, and committed rapes, and played the devil, as far as I knew: (I have no doubt of it, Jack!) but who, by advantage of a female education, and pride and insolence, I believed was personally virtuous.
Mrs. Bevis allowed, that there was a vast deal in education—and in pride too, she said. While Miss Rawlins came with a prudish God forbid that virtue should be owing to education only! However, I declared that Miss Howe was a subtle contriver of mischief; one who had always been my enemy: her motives I knew not: but despised the man whom her mother was desirous she should have, one Hickman; although I did not directly aver that she would rather have had me; yet they all immediately imagined that that was the ground of her animosity to me, and of her envy to my beloved: and it was pity, they said, that so fine a young lady did not see through such a pretended friend.
And yet nobody (added I) has more reason than she to know by experience the force of a hatred founded in envy; as I hinted to you above, Mrs. Moore, and to you, Miss Rawlins, in the case of her sister Arabella.
I had compliments made to my person and talents on this occasion: which gave me a singular opportunity of displaying my modesty, by disclaiming the merit of them, with a
No, indeed!—I should be very vain, Ladies, if I thought so. While thus abusing myself, and exalting Miss Howe, I got their opinion both for modesty and generosity; and had all the graces which I disclaimed thrown in upon me besides.In short, they even oppressed that modesty, which (to speak modestly of myself) their praises created, by disbelieving all I said against myself.
And, truly, I must needs say, they have almost persuaded even me myself, that Miss Howe is actually in love with me. I have often been willing to hope this. And who knows but she may? The Captain and I have agreed, that it shall be so insinuated occasionally—And what’s thy opinion, Jack? She certainly hates Hickman; and girls who are disengaged seldom hate, though they may not love: and if she had rather have another, why not that other me? For am I not a smart fellow, and a rake? And do not your sprightly ladies love your smart fellow, and your rakes? And where is the wonder, that the man who could engage the affections of Miss Harlowe, should engage those of a lady (with her204 alas’s) who would be honoured in being deemed her second?
Nor accuse thou me of singular vanity in this presumption, Belford. Wert thou to know the secret vanity that lurks in the hearts of those who disguise or cloak it best, thou wouldst find great reason to acquit, at least, to allow for me: since it is generally the conscious over-fullness of conceit, that makes the hypocrite most upon his guard to conceal it. Yet with these fellows, proudly humble as they are, it will break out sometimes in spite of their cloaks, though but in self-denying, compliment-begging self-degradation.
But now I have undervalued myself, in apologizing to thee on this
