To Lord Viscount Fondville.
My Lord,
I Readily admit your Lordship's apology;
as I am under no apprehension any man
can intend to slight the alliance of one who
has always endeavoured his character should
be worthy his birth, and the rank he has
the honor to hold in his country.
As I love the plainest dealing in affairs
of such consequence, I will not a moment
deceive your Lordship, or suffer you to engage
in a pursuit, which, if I have any influence
over my daughter, will be unsuccessful;
not from any disesteem of your Lordship,
but because I have another view for
her, the disappointment of which would
destroy all my hopes of a happy evening
of life, and embitter my last hours. I have
long intended her, with her own approbation,
which her filial piety gives me no
room to doubt, for the son of my friend,
the heir of an earldom, and of an affluent
fortune; and, what I much more value, of
uncommon merit; and one of the first families
in the kingdom.
I am sure your Lordship will not endeavour
to oppose a design, which has been
long formed, is far advanced, and on which
I have so much set my heart.
I am, my Lord,
with great Regard,
Your Lordship's very obedient
and devoted Servant,
Belmont.
I have long, my dear Mr. Mandeville,
suspected my Lord's design in favour of
Lord Melvin, of which there is not now
the least doubt. Our coming away from
his father's, on his arrival, was a circumstance
which then struck me extremely.
Lady Julia's stay there, on this supposition,
would have been ill suited to
the delicacy of her sex and rank. Yet I
am astonished my Lord has not sooner told
her of it; but there is no accounting for
the caprice of age. How shall I tell my
dear Mr. Mandeville my sentiments on
this discovery! How shall I, without wounding
a passion which bears no restraint, hint
to him my wishes, that he would sacrifise
that love, which can only by its continuance
make him wretched, to Lady Julia's
peace of mind! That he would himself
assist her to conquer an inclination
which is incompatible with the views which
the most indulgent of parents entertains for
her happiness! Views, the disappointment
of which, he has declared, will embitter
his last hours? Make one generous effort,
my amiable friend: it is glorious to conquer
where conquest is most difficult: think
of Lord Belmont's friendship; of his almost
parental care of your fortune; of the
pleasure with which he talks of your virtues;
and it will be impossible for you to
continue to oppose that design on which his
hopes of a happy evening of life are founded.
Would you deny a happy evening to
that life to which thousands owe the felicity
of theirs?
It is from you, and not Lady Julia, I
expect this sacrifice: the consideration
which will most strongly influence you to
make it, will for ever prevent her; it pains
me to wound your delicacy, by saying I
mean the difference of your fortunes. From
a romantic generosity, she will think herself
obliged to that perseverance, which the
same generosity now calls loudly on you to
decline. If you have the greatness of mind
to give up hopes which can never to accomplished,
time and absence my assist Lady
Julia's filial sweetness, and bring her to a
compliance with her father's will. Believe,
that, whilst I write, my heart melts with
compassion for you both; and that nothing
but the tenderest friendship could have
urged me to so painful a talk.
I am, &c.
A. Wilmot.
O Mordaunt! till now I was never truly
wretched. I have not even a glimpse of hope
remaining. I must give up the only wish for
which life is worth my care, or embitter the
last hours of the man, who with unequalled
generosity has pleaded my cause against
himself, and declined a noble acquisition of
fortune, that it might give consequence, and,
as he thought, happiness to me.
But Lady Julia!––Heaven is my
witness, to make her happy, I would this
moment give up all my right in her heart.
I would myself lead her to the altar, though
the same hand the next moment––
Mordaunt, I will promise, if she requests
it, to consent to her marriage; but I will
not to survive it. My thoughts are all
distraction–I cannot write to Lady Anne
–I will write to the most lovely of women
–She knows not the cruel request of
her friend–Her love disdains the low
consideration of wealth––Our hearts
were formed for each other–She knows
every sentiment of my soul–She knows,
that, were I monarch of the world–O Mordaunt,
is it possible–Can the gentle, the
indulgent Lord Belmont–but all conspires
to undo me: the best, the most mild of
mankind is turned a tyrant to make me
wretched. I will know from herself if she
consents; I will give up my own hopes to
her happiness; but let me first be convinced
it is indeed her happiness, not the prejudices
of her father, to which I make so
cruel a sacrifice.
I have wrote to Lady Julia, and am
more calm: I have mentioned Lady Anne's request.
I have told her, that, though without
hope, if I am still blest in her affection,
I will never resign her but with life: but if
she can be happy with Lord Melvin, if she
asks it, she is this moment free. I have
entreated her to consult her own heart,
without a thought of me; that I would
die this moment to contribute to her peace;
that the first purpose of my life is her happiness,
with which my own shall never come
in competition; that there is nothing I will
ever refuse her, but to cease to think of
her with adoration; that if she wishes to
marry Lord Melvin (Great Heaven! is it
possible she can wish it?) I will return to
Italy, and carry far from her a passion
which can never cease but in the grave.
I will wait here an answer, and then determine
where to go.
