University of Virginia Library

“I know what I have done is disgraceful, and horrible,
and awful, and all that—but it was meant well, and I
don't care what you may say; it has succeeded. The time

to acknowledge the trick is come, and here goes. It went
this way:

“I saw you come back from Europe completely knocked
up—worried out, as you said, and you will remember that
I announced my intention to become physician in ordinary
to you, the very first time I saw you. You thought the fox-hunt
was all—I know you did, and you are one more added
to the list of those people, by George! who give Jack Hamilton
credit for only about as much sense as a man could
put into the left eye of a sparrow. No, sir! I'm deep, and I
set to work at once, as I am going to tell you in this letter.
I would rather not have a scene and a vivá voce explanation
after your blood and thunder address to me the other day,
which made me as mad as blazes—an improper and vulgar
expression, but it conveys the idea strongly.

“This was it. I say I saw you come home knocked up,
and I hadn't been living so long in the world without understanding
that you wanted to have some pursuit—some
object. I'm thirty large odd, sir, nearly forty, in fact—
don't mention it among the ladies—and in that time I had
gathered some ideas. I know what I am going to say will
make you mad, by Jove! but what do I care? I am a triumphant
M. D., and if the patient runs the physician through
the gizzard for cauterizing and curing him, society will
frown upon the act: if any thing, the doctor's reputation
will increase!

“I determined from that very interview that you should
go back to your passion for Clare: it was only sleeping—I
resolved to wake it. Being engaged to Miss Alethea, who
promises to make a respectable and moral man of me—and
I only hope she may not be disappointed—I had a natural
disinclination to having a brother-in-law who would go about
all the time looking like a thunder cloud, and as pale as
those spirits called ghouls, who feed on human flesh, as I
have read somewhere in Shakespeare, or the Dictionary—
which fact makes them disagreeable associates, as a man
never can feel sure that they are not anxious to eat him. I
resolved, therefore to twist you round my thumb, and I've
done it—triumphantly! I dare you to deny it! You are
at this moment desperately in love with Clare Lee—your
boyish adoration was not a shadow to it: you very nearly

cut me to pieces the other day for asking what kept you
from visiting her! Deny it if you dare—and ah! my dear
boy, here is the agreeable part, what will make your vanity
unbearable, here is the triumph of my tactics: she loves
you! she does, upon my soul!

“But let me proceed, step by step, by George! I know
human nature, and especially woman nature, sir—I am master
of that: they can't trap me—not they; but my knowledge
of the masculine temperament is equally profound. I
have always observed that men and women, like hounds, run
after what flies from them. I doubt whether even my dog
Tinkle would grab a fox, if the fox came and sat down
quietly by him and said, `I would rather be grabbed than
not—grab me, old fellow.' I know Tinkle, sir, and Tinkle
would reply, `Off with you, you are a disreputable hen-roost
thief: I won't have you near me!' But let the fox
run, and look! Tinkle will run him until his tongue hangs
out of his mouth like a red ribbon. It's just so with men—
and you are no exception. I tell you, sir, that you began to
fall back in love with Clare the moment you found, or rather
thought, she was running from you into my arms. That
roused you; you cursed me from Dan to Beersheba and
back again for a false friend; but you fell a victim to my
artifice! If I had not played that nice little trick, what
would have been the consequence? Why you would have
found that Clare loved you as much as ever, in spite of
your goings on, because she has forgiven you: and you
would have dawdled over there once a week or so, and come
back as dull as ever, and drawled `yes, yes, a nice girl, very
agreeable, fond of me—but I'm done with women!' Nothing,
sir, would have come of it. But, now! what did I do?
Why, I sacrificed myself on the altar of friendship, like a
hero: I bore your murderous looks—I declined to see your
fireball eyes, I took no notice of your tones of voice. I
practised on you, sir, and I twisted you over my thumb—I
made you jealous—I told, on a moderate calculation, one
thousand lies about myself and Clare, which lies, as an
honorable man, you are bound to take upon yourself—they
having been told in your service. I then took up a large
portion of my valuable time in praising you at Riverhead.
The lies I told you were nothing to what I told Clare: I

revelled in the imaginary, sir—I made you out the greatest
hero of modern times—I said you were a saint, for which
heaven forgive me: I did what every man is conscientiously
bound to do for his friend—in vulgar and deplorably coarse
phrase, I plastered you, sir.

“I made Clare believe that you were dying of love for
Henrietta—this was to put her on her guard; after that, as
she was a woman, I defied her to do more than speak to you.
Her pride kept her from showing that she cared for you; I
tricked her admirably.

“Having worked my diabolical and disgraceful scheme
up thus, I carried it on—I revelled in it—you had a spice
of that the other day when you boiled over; and that really
made me angry; by Jove! I could have cut your throat then,
and afterwards overwhelmed you, and mortified you, with
telling you all I had done for you. I persist in saying that
my triumph is complete. By George! I admire myself.

“And now, presume to quarrel if you dare, with all this;
it was well meant, and you know it has turned out as I say.
Pardon your old friend Jack, my boy, and acknowledge the
elevation of his moral character. Go and tell Clare you
love her, and don't fear that, when you have explained all,
she will discard you. She loves you, by Jove! in a way
that makes me desirous of standing in your shoes: that is to
say, that the sentiment I have inspired Alethea with is much
more moderate and dignified.

“The game's afoot, my boy; go it!