LETTER XX
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.
Well, but now my heart is a little at ease, I will condescend to takebrief notice of some other passages in thy letters.
I find I am to thank thee, that the dear creature has avoided my visit.Things are now in so good a train that I must forgive thee; else thoushouldst have heard more of this new instance of disloyalty to thygeneral.
Thou art continually giving thyself high praise, by way of opposition, asI may say, to others; gently and artfully blaming thyself for qualitiesthou wouldst at the same time have to be thought, and which generally arethought, praise-worthy.
Thus, in the airs thou assumest about thy servants, thou wouldst pass fora mighty humane mortal; and that at the expense of Mowbray and me, whomthou representest as kings and emperors to our menials. Yet art thoualways unhappy in thy attempts of this kind, and never canst make us, whoknow thee, believe that to be a virtue in thee, which is but the effectof constitutional phlegm and absurdity.
Knowest thou not, that some men have a native dignity in their manner,that makes them more regarded by a look, than either thou canst be in thylow style, or Mowbray in his high?
I am fit to be a prince, I can tell thee, for I reward well, and I punishseasonably and properly; and I am generally as well served by any man.
The art of governing these underbred varlets lies more in the dignity oflooks than in words; and thou art a sorry fellow, to think humanityconsists in acting by thy servants, as men must act who are not able topay them their wages; or had made them masters of secrets, which, ifdivulged, would lay them at the mercy of such wretches.
Now to me, who never did any thing I was ashamed to own, and who havemore ingenuousness than ever man had; who can call a villany by its ownright name, though practised by myself, and (by my own readiness toreproach myself) anticipate all reproach from others; who am not such ahypocrite, as to wish the world to think me other or better than I am--it is my part, to look a servant into his duty, if I can; nor will I keepone who knows not how to take me by a nod, or a wink; and who, when Ismile, shall not be all transport; when I frown, all terror. If, indeed,I am out of the way a little, I always take care to rewards the varletsfor patiently bearing my displeasure. But this I hardly ever am but whena fellow is egregiously stupid in any plain point of duty, or will bewiser than his master; and when he shall tell me, that he thought actingcontrary to my orders was the way to serve me best.
One time or other I will enter the lists with thee upon thy conduct andmine to servants; and I will convince thee, that what thou wouldst havepass for humanity, if it be indiscriminately practised to all tempers,will perpetually subject thee to the evils thou complainest of; andjustly too; and that he only is fit to be a master of servants, who cancommand their attention as much by a nod, as if he were to pr'ythee afellow to do his duty, on one hand, or to talk of flaying, andhorse-whipping, like Mowbray, on the other: for the servant who beingused to expect thy creeping style, will always be master of his master,and he who deserves to be treated as the other, is not fit to be anyman's servant; nor would I keep such a fellow to rub my horse's heels.
I shall be the readier to enter the lists with thee upon this argument,because I have presumption enough to think that we have not in any of ourdramatic poets, that I can at present call to mind, one character of aservant of either sex, that is justly hit off. So absurdly wise some,and so sottishly foolish others; and both sometime in the same person.Foils drawn from lees or dregs of the people to set off the characters oftheir masters and mistresses; nay, sometimes, which is still more absurd,introduced with more wit than the poet has to bestow upon theirprincipals.--Mere flints and steels to strike fire with--or, to vary themetaphor, to serve for whetstones to wit, which, otherwise, could not bemade apparent; or, for engines to be made use of like the machinery ofthe antient poets, (or the still more unnatural soliloquy,) to help on asorry plot, or to bring about a necessary eclaircissement, to save thepoet the trouble of thinking deeply for a better way to wind up hisbottoms.
Of this I am persuaded, (whatever my practice be to my own servants,)that thou wilt be benefited by my theory, when we come to controvert thepoint. For then I shall convince thee, that the dramatic as well asnatural characteristics of a good servant ought to be fidelity, commonsense, cheerful obedience, and silent respect; that wit in his station,except to his companions, would be sauciness; that he should neverpresume to give his advice; that if he venture to expostulate upon anyunreasonable command, or such a one a appeared to him to be so, he shoulddo it with humility and respect, and take a proper season for it. Butsuch lessons do most of the dramatic performances I have seen give, whereservants are introduced as characters essential to the play, or to actvery significant or long parts in it, (which, of itself, I think afault;) such lessons, I say, do they give to the footmen's gallery, thatI have not wondered we have so few modest or good men-servants amongthose who often attend their masters or mistresses to plays. Then howmiserably evident must that poet's conscious want of genius be, who canstoop to raise or give force to a clap by the indiscriminate roar of theparty-coloured gallery!
But this subject I will suspend to a better opportunity; that is to say,to the happy one, when my nuptials with my Clarissa will oblige me toincrease the number of my servants, and of consequence to enter morenicely into their qualifications.
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Although I have the highest opinion that man can have of the generosityof my dear Miss Harlowe, yet I cannot for the heart of me account forthis agreeable change in her temper but one way. Faith and troth,Belford, I verily believe, laying all circumstances together, that thedear creature unexpectedly finds herself in the way I have so ardentlywished her to be in; and that this makes her, at last, incline to favourme, that she may set the better face upon her gestation, when at herfather's.
If this be the case, all her falling away, and her fainting fits, arecharmingly accounted for. Nor is it surprising, that such a sweet novicein these matters should not, for some time, have known to what toattribute her frequent indispositions. If this should be the case, how Ishall laugh at thee! and (when I am sure of her) at the dear noviceherself, that all her grievous distresses shall end in a man-child; whichI shall love better than all the cherubims and seraphims that may comeafter; though there were to be as many of them as I beheld in my dream;in which a vast expanse of firmament was stuck as full of them as itcould hold!
I shall be afraid to open thy next, lest it bring me the account of poorBelton's death. Yet, as there are no hopes of his recovery--but whatshould I say, unless the poor man were better fitted--but thy heavysermon shall not affect me too much neither.
I enclose thy papers; and do thou transcribe them for me, or return them;for there are some things in them, which, at a proper season, a mortalman should not avoid attending to; and thou seemest to have entereddeeply into the shocking subject.--But here I will end, lest I grow tooserious.
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Thy servant called here about an hour ago, to know if I had any commands;I therefore hope that thou wilt have this early in the morning. And ifthou canst let me hear from thee, do. I'll stretch an hour or two inexpectation of it. Yet I must be at Lord M.'s to-morrow night, ifpossible, though ever so late.
Thy fellow tells me the poor man is much as he was when Mowbray left him.
Wouldst thou think that this varlet Mowbray is sorry that I am so nearbeing happy with Miss Harlowe? And, 'egad, Jack, I know not what to sayto it, now the fruit seems to be within my reach--but let what will come,I'll stand to't: for I find I can't live without her.
Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 8 Page 21