motives with the sages of a family, though the least to be mentioned by
the parties themselves, and yet even by them, perhaps, the first thought
of: that is to say, inquisition into the lady's fortune; into the
particulars of the grandfather's estate; and what her father, and her
single-souled uncles, will probably do for her, if a reconciliation be
effected; as, by their means, they make no doubt but it will be between
both families, if it be not my fault. The two venerables [no longer
tabbies with me now] hinted at rich presents on their own parts; and my
Lord declared that he would make such overtures in my behalf, as should
render my marriage with Miss Harlowe the best day's work I ever made;
and what, he doubted not, would be as agreeable to that family as to
myself.

Thus, at present, by a single hair, hangs over my head the matrimonial
sword. And thus ended my trial. And thus are we all friends, and Cousin
and Cousin, and Nephew and Nephew, at every word.

Did ever comedy end more happily than this long trial?

LETTER VIII

MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.
WEDN. JULY 12.

So, Jack, they think they have gained a mighty point. But, were I to
change my mind, were I to repent, I fancy I am safe.--And yet this very
moment it rises to my mind, that 'tis hard trusting too; for surely there
must be some embers, where there was fire so lately, that may be stirred
up to give a blaze to combustibles strewed lightly upon them. Love, like
some self-propagating plants, or roots, (which have taken strong hold in
the earth) when once got deep into the heart, is hardly ever totally
extirpated, except by matrimony indeed, which is the grave of love,
because it allows of the end of love. Then these ladies, all advocates
for herself, with herself, Miss Howe at their head, perhaps,----not in
favour to me--I don't expect that from Miss Howe--but perhaps in favour
to herself: for Miss Howe has reason to apprehend vengeance from me, I
ween. Her Hickman will be safe too, as she may think, if I marry her
beloved friend: for he has been a busy fellow, and I have long wished to
have a slap at him!--The lady's case desperate with her friends too; and
likely to be so, while single, and her character exposed to censure.

A husband is a charming cloke, a fig-leaved apron for a wife: and for a
lady to be protected in liberties, in diversions, which her heart pants
after--and all her faults, even the most criminal, were she