To George Mordaunt, Esq;
August 1st.
I Have heard from my father on the subject
of Lady Mary's intended settlement,
who extremely disapproves my intention
of entirely declining it, which he
thinks cannot be founded on any motives
worthy of me, but on a false pride of disdaining
to be obliged, which is in this case
unjust, and greatly below my character:
that I might as well object to receiving a
part of his estate, which he intends to settle
on me at the same time; he says, Lord
Belmont acts properly, and consistently
with himself, and does not at all mean to
break in on that independence which can
never be too highly valued: that Lady
Julia would scarce perceive such an addition
to her already splendid fortune, whilst
this settlement fixes in some degree of affluence
the elder branch of the family,
which lost its superiority, by the injustice of
an ancestor, and that heroic loyalty which
has ever characterised our house. That
he will talk further with me on this subject
when we meet, but in the mean time advises
me, as a friend zealous for my interest,
yet not the less attentive to my honor
and the propriety of my conduct, to
accept the immediate settlement of 500 £.
a year, which will enable me to be serviceable
to my country; but to postpone to
some distant time settling the whole, and to
insist that Lady Mary be convinced I deserve
her friendship before she lavishes it so profusely
on me.
This advice gives me pleasure, as it coincides
with my own present sentiments:
eager to pursue my scheme of rising to such
consequence as my justify my hopes of the
only event desirable to me in this world,
I am happy in the thought of appearing in
every light in which I can attract the notice
of my Prince; and, by steadily serving him
and my country, whose true interest must
ever be the same, deserve that favor on
which all my designs are founded.
The time not being yet arrived when I
can serve the noblest cause in the Senate, I
will go to Germany, and endeavour first to
signalize myself in the manner most suited
to my period of life, the season of action,
not of counsel: it is shameful, at my age,
to recline in the flowery bower of indolence,
when the whole world is in arms; I have
not yet begun to live; my time has hitherto
been less passed in acting, than in preparing
to act, my part on the great theatre
of human life.
Oh, Mordaunt! should I succeed in my
views! should the hour come when I may
openly avow my passion for the ;most lovely
of womankind! this is the sweet hope
which fires my soul, and animates me to
the glorious pursuit. Why do closeted
moralists, strangers to the human heart,
rail indiscriminately at love? when inspired
by a worthy object, it leads to every
thing that is great a noble; warmed by
the desire of being approved by her,
there is nothing I would not attempt. I
will to-day write to my father for his consent,
and embark immediately for the
army.
I have just received your letter: you call
my design madness, the light in which every
animated purpose will appear to minds inactive,
unimpassioned, and sunk in the lethargic
calm of lifeless tranquillity.–Mordaunt,
you speak the cold language of a
heart at rest: talk not of impossibilities;
nothing is impossible to a soul impelled by
the most lively of all passions, and ardent
in a pursuit on which its whole happiness
depends; nothing is impossible to him who aspires to please the
most lovely, the most
amiable, the most exalted of her sex.
I feel, I know, I shall be successful. l I
ask not advice, but declare my settled purpose:
I am already determined; and, if your
friendship be warm as mine, you will not
torture me by further opposition. My father
alone has power to change my resolution,
but it is a power he will not exert: I
shall ask his permission, but inform him at
the same time, that, by refusing, he cuts off
all the hope of my future days, and chains
me down to a life of tasteless insensibility.
I know him well; he will advise, he will
remonstrate, if he disapproves; but he will
leave me that freedom of choice which is
the inherent right of every rational being
and which he never, in one instance, invaded,
when I was much less capable of
judging for myself.
Fearful, however, lest he should disapprove
my passion for Lady Julia, I shall
not declare it to him at present; but, as
I never will even tacitly deceive him, I
shall tell him I have a motive to this design,
which I beg his leave to conceal from him
till I have a prospect of success.
I this morning mentioned leaving Belmont,
but my Lord insists on my staying a
few days longer, which are devoted to domestic
happiness. I cannot refuse without
making him suspect some latent cause; nor
will it make any difference in my plan, since
I must wait somewhere an answer from my
father, which will reach Belmont about the
time I shall now leave it. To-morrow se'n-night expect me in town: I shall stay but
two nights: I need little preparation: my
equipage and attendance are already greatly
beyond my fortune, and rather suited to what
you call the madness of my expectations:
my father, the most generous of mankind,
has always proportioned my expences more
to my birth than his moderate income: as
my companions have ever been of the first
rank, he has supported me greatly above
myself, and on a full equality with them,
lest I should be dazzled to mean compliances
with their faults, by the false splendor
they might receive from a superiority in
these outward distinctions.
Did I tell you Lord Belmont had presented
me with a beautiful Arabian horse,
which he bought when in town? What
delight has he in giving pleasure to others!
What addition, if that can admit addition,
to the happiness of the man who is blest
with Lady Julia, will it be to be so nearly
allied to worth like Lord Belmont's!
O Mordaunt! were it possible–it is, it
must–I will not give room to the faintest
idea of disappointment.
Adieu! I have this moment a letter from
my father, which I must answer to-night.
H. Mandeville.
