ts out the remembrance of past evils
from my soul.'

And now let me ask thee, Lovelace, Dost thou think that, when the time
shall come that thou shalt be obliged to launch into the boundless ocean
of eternity, thou wilt be able (any more than poor Belton) to act thy
part with such true heroism, as this sweet and tender blossom of a woman
has manifested, and continues to manifest!

Oh! no! it cannot be!--And why can't it be?--The reason is evident: she
has no wilful errors to look back upon with self-reproach--and her mind
is strengthened by the consolations which flow from that religious
rectitude which has been the guide of all her actions; and which has
taught her rather to choose to be a sufferer than an aggressor!

This was the support of the divine Socrates, as thou hast read. When led
to execution, his wife lamenting that he should suffer being innocent,
Thou fool, said he, wouldst thou wish me to be guilty!

LETTER XLIX

MR. BELFORD, TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ.
FRIDAY, SEPT. 1.

How astonishing, in the midst of such affecting scenes, is thy mirth on
what thou callest my own aspirations! Never, surely, was there such
another man in this world, thy talents and thy levity taken together!--
Surely, what I shall send thee with this will affect thee. If not,
nothing can, till thy own hour come: and heavy will then thy reflections
be!

I am glad, however, that thou enablest me to assure the lady that thou
wilt no more molest her; that is to say, in other words, that, after
having ruined her fortunes, and all her worldly prospects, thou wilt be
so gracious, as to let her lie down and die in peace.

Thy giving up to poor Belton's sister the little legacy, and thy
undertaking to make Mowbray and Tourville follow thy example, are, I must
say to thy honour, of a piece with thy generosity to thy Rose-bud and her
Johnny; and to a number of other good actions in pecuniary matters:
although thy Rose-bud's is, I believe, the only instance, where a pretty
woman was concerned, of such a disinterested bounty.

Upon my faith, Lovelace, I love to praise thee; and often and often, as
thou knowest, have I studied for occasions to do it: insomuch that when,
for the life of me, I could not think of any thing done by thee that
deserved praise, I have taken pains to applaud the not ungraceful manner
in which thou hast performed actions that merited the gallows.

Now thou art so near, I will dispatch my servant to thee, if