avour to begin to
repent of my follies while my health is sound, my intellects untouched,
and while it is in my power to make some atonement, as near to
restitution or reparation, as is possible, to those I have wronged or
misled. And do ye outwardly, and from a point of false bravery, make as
light as ye will of my resolution, as ye are none of ye of the class of
abandoned and stupid sots who endeavour to disbelieve the future
existence of which ye are afraid, I am sure you will justify me in your
hearts, if not by your practices; and one day you will wish you had
joined with me in the same resolution, and will confess there is more
good sense in it, than now perhaps you will own.

SEVEN O'CLOCK, THURSDAY MORNING.

You are very earnest, by your last letter, (just given me) to hear again
from me, before you set out for Berks. I will therefore close with a few
words upon the only subject in your letter which I can at present touch
upon: and this is the letter of which you give me a copy from the lady.

Want of rest, and the sad scene I have before my eyes, have rendered me
altogether incapable of accounting for the contents of it in any shape.
You are in ecstacies upon it. You have reason to be so, if it be as you
think. Nor would I rob you of your joy: but I must say I am amazed at
it.

Surely, Lovelace, this surprising letter cannot be a forgery of thy own,
in order to carry on some view, and to impose upon me. Yet, by the style
of it, it cannot though thou art a perfect Proteus too.

I will not, however, add another word, after I have desired the return of
this, and have told you that I am

Your true friend, and well-wisher,
J. BELFORD.

LETTER XXII

MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.
AUG. 24, THURSDAY MORNING.

I received thy letter in such good time, by thy fellow's dispatch, that
it gives me an opportunity of throwing in a few paragraphs upon it. I
read a passage or two of it to Mowbray; and we both agree that thou art
an absolute master of the lamentable.

Poor Belton! what terrible conflicts were thy last conflicts!--I hope,
however, that he is happy: and I have the more hope, because the hardness
of his death is likely to be such a warning to thee. If it have the
effect thou declarest it shall have, what a world of mischief will it
prevent! how much good will it do! how many poor wretches will rejoice at
the occasion, (if they know it,) however melancholy in itself, which
shall brin