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diff --git a/9881-0.txt b/9881-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bc6d7dc --- /dev/null +++ b/9881-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11573 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 9881 *** + + + + +CLARISSA HARLOWE + +or the + +HISTORY OF A YOUNG LADY + + +By Samuel Richardson + + +Nine Volumes + +Volume III. + + + + +LETTERS OF VOLUME III + + +LETTER I. Miss Howe to Clarissa.--Is astonished, confounded, aghast. +Repeats her advice to marry Lovelace. + +LETTER II. Clarissa to Miss Howe.--Gives a particular account of her +meeting Lovelace; of her vehement contention with him; and, at last, +of her being terrified out of her predetermined resolution, and tricked +away. Her grief and compunction of heart upon it. Lays all to the fault +of corresponding with him at first against paternal prohibition. Is +incensed against him for his artful dealings with her, and for his +selfish love. + +LETTER III. Mr. Lovelace to Joseph Leman.--A letter which lays open the +whole of his contrivance to get off Clarissa. + +LETTER IV. Joseph Leman. In answer. + +LETTER V. Lovelace to Belford.--In ecstasy on the success of his +contrivances. Well as he loves Clarissa, he would show her no mercy, if +he thought she preferred any man living to him. Will religiously observe +the INJUNCTIONS she laid upon him previous to their meeting. + +LETTER VI. Clarissa to Miss Howe.--A recriminating conversation between +her and Lovelace. He reminds her of her injunctions; and, instead of +beseeching her to dispense with them, promises a sacred regard to them. +It is not, therefore, in her power, she tells Miss Howe, to take her +advice as to speedy marriage. [A note on the place, justifying her +conduct.] Is attended by Mrs. Greme, Lord M.'s housekeeper at The Lawn, +who waits on her to her sister Sorlings, with whom she consents to +lodge. His looks offend her. Has written to her sister for her clothes. + +LETTER VII. Lovelace to Belford.--Gives briefly the particulars of +his success. Describes her person and dress on her first meeting him. +Extravagant exultation. Makes Belford question him on the honour of his +designs by her: and answers doubtfully. + +LETTER VIII. Miss Howe to Clarissa.--Her sentiments on her narrative. +Her mother, at the instigation of Antony Harlowe, forbids their +correspondence. Mr. Hickman's zeal to serve them in it. What her family +now pretend, if she had not left them. How they took her supposed +projected flight. Offers her money and clothes. Would have her seem to +place some little confidence in Lovelace. Her brother and sister will +not permit her father and uncles to cool. + +LETTER IX. X. Clarissa to Miss Howe.--Advises her to obey her mother, who +prohibits their correspondence. Declines to accept her offers of money: +and why. Mr. Lovelace not a polite man. She will be as ready to place a +confidence in him, as he will be to deserve it. Yet tricked away by him +as she was, cannot immediately treat him with great complaisance. Blames +her for her liveliness to her mother. Encloses the copy of her letter to +her sister. + +LETTER XI. Lovelace to Belford.--Prides himself in his arts in the +conversations between them. Is alarmed at the superiority of her +talents. Considers opposition and resistance as a challenge to do his +worst. His artful proceedings with Joseph Leman. + +LETTER XII. From the same.--Men need only be known to be rakes, he says, +to recommend themselves to the favour of the sex. Wishes Miss Howe were +not so well acquainted with Clarissa: and why. + +LETTER XIII. From the same.--Intends to set old Antony at Mrs. Howe, to +prevent the correspondence between the two young ladies. Girl, not gold, +his predominant passion. Rallies Belford on his person and appearance. +Takes humourous notice of the two daughters of the widow Sorlings. + +LETTER XIV. From the same.--Farther triumphs over the Harlowes. +Similitude of the spider and fly. Is for having separate churches as +well as separate boarding-schools for the sexes. The women ought to love +him, he says: and why. Prides himself that they do. + +LETTER XV. Clarissa to Miss Howe.--Particulars of an angry conference +with Lovelace. Seeing her sincerely displeased, he begs the ceremony may +immediately pass. He construes her bashful silence into anger, and vows +a sacred regard to her injunctions. + +LETTER XVI. XVII. XVIII. Lovelace to Belford.--The pleasure of a +difficult chace. Triumphs in the distress and perplexity he gave her by +his artful and parading offer of marriage. His reasons for and against +doing her justice. Resolves to try her to the utmost. The honour of the +whole sex concerned in the issue of her trial. Matrimony, he sees, is in +his power, now she is. + +LETTER XIX. Miss Howe to Clarissa.--Will not obey her mother in her +prohibition of their correspondence: and why. Is charmed with her +spirit. + +LETTER XX. Clarissa to Miss Howe.--Knows not what she can do with +Lovelace. He may thank himself for the trouble he has had on her +account. Did she ever, she asks, make him any promises? Did she ever +receive him as a lover? + +LETTER XXI. XXII. From the same.--She calls upon Lovelace to give her a +faithful account of the noise and voices she heard at the garden-door, +which frightened her away with him. His confession, and daring hints in +relation to Solmes, and her brother, and Betty Barnes. She is terrified. + +LETTER XXIII. Lovelace to Belford.--Rejoices in the stupidity of the +Harlowes. Exults in his capacity for mischief. The condescensions +to which he intends to bring the lady. Libertine observations to the +disadvantage of women; which may serve as cautions to the sex. + +LETTER XXIV. Clarissa to Miss Howe.--A conversation with Mr. Lovelace +wholly agreeable. His promises of reformation. She remembers, to his +advantage, his generosity to his Rosebud and his tenants. Writes to her +aunt Hervey. + +LETTER XXV. XXVI. Lovelace to Belford.--His acknowledged vanity. +Accounts for his plausible behaviour, and specious promises and +proposals. Apprehensive of the correspondence between Miss Howe and +Clarissa. Loves to plague him with out-of-the-way words and phrases. + +LETTER XXVII. Miss Howe to Clarissa.--How to judge of Lovelace's +suspicious proposals and promises. Hickman devoted to their service. Yet +she treats him with ridicule. + +LETTER XXVIII. Clarissa to Miss Howe.--Lovelace complains, she hears, to +Mrs. Greme, of her adhering to her injunctions. What means he by it, she +asks, yet forego such opportunities as he had? She is punished for her +vanity in hoping to be an example. Blames Miss Howe for her behaviour to +Hickman. + +LETTER XXIX. From the same.--Warm dialogues with Lovelace. She is +displeased with him for his affectedly-bashful hints of matrimony. +Mutual recriminations. He looks upon her as his, she says, by a strange +sort of obligation, for having run away with her against her will. Yet +but touches on the edges of matrimony neither. She is sick of herself. + +LETTER XXX. From the same.--Mr. Lovelace a perfect Proteus. He now +applauds her for that treatment of him which before he had resented; and +communicates to her two letters, one from Lady Betty Lawrance, the other +from Miss Montague. She wonders he did not produce those letters before, +as he must know they would be highly acceptable to her. + +LETTER XXXI. XXXII. XXXIII. XXXIV. From the same.--The contents of the +letters from Lady Betty and Miss Montague put Clarissa in good humour +with Mr. Lovelace. He hints at marriage; but pretends to be afraid of +pursuing the hint. She is earnest with him to leave her: and why. +He applauds her reasonings. Her serious questions, and his ludicrous +answer.--He makes different proposals.--He offers to bring Mrs. Norton +to her. She is ready to blame herself for her doubts of him: but +gives reasons for her caution.--He writes by her consent to his friend +Doleman, to procure lodgings for her in town. + +LETTER XXXV. Lovelace to Belford.--Glories in his contrivances. Gives +an advantageous description of Clarissa's behaviour. Exults on her +mentioning London. None but impudent girls, he says, should run away +with a man. His farther views, plots, and designs. + +LETTER XXXVI. Miss Howe to Clarissa.--Humourously touches on her +reproofs in relation to Hickman. Observations on smooth love. Lord +M.'s family greatly admire her. Approves of her spirited treatment of +Lovelace, and of her going to London. Hints at the narrowness of her own +mother. Advises her to keep fair with Lovelace. + +LETTER XXXVII. XXXVIII. Clarissa to Miss Howe.--Wonders not that her +brother has weight to make her father irreconcilable.--Copy of Mr. +Doleman's answer about London lodgings. Her caution in her choice of +them. Lovelace has given her five guineas for Hannah. Other instances of +his considerateness. Not displeased with her present prospects. + +LETTER XXXIX. Lovelace to Belford.--Explains what is meant by Doleman's +answer about the lodgings. Makes Belford object to his scheme, that +he may answer the objections. Exults. Swells. Despises every body. +Importance of the minutiae. More of his arts, views, and contrivances. + +LETTER XL. Miss Howe to Clarissa.--Acquaints her with a scheme formed +by her brother and captain Singleton, to carry her off. Hickman's silent +charities. She despises all his sex, as well as him. Ill terms on which +her own father and mother lived. Extols Clarissa for her domestic good +qualities. Particulars of a great contest with her mother, on their +correspondence. Has been slapt by her. Observations on managing wives. + +LETTER XLI. XLII. XLIII. Clarissa to Miss Howe.--A strong remonstrance +on her behaviour to her mother; in which she lays down the duty of +children. Accuses her of want of generosity to Hickman. Farther excuses +herself on declining to accept of her money offers. Proposes a condition +on which Mrs. Howe may see all they write. + +LETTER XLIV. Miss Howe to Clarissa.--Her mother rejects the proposed +condition. Miss Howe takes thankfully her reprehensions: but will +continue the correspondence. Some excuses for herself. Humourous story +of game-chickens. + +LETTER XLV. Clarissa to Miss Howe.--Lovelace communicates her brother's +and Singleton's project; but treats it with seeming contempt. She asks +his advice what to do upon it. This brings on an offer of marriage from +him. How it went off. + +LETTER XLVI. Lovelace to Belford.--He confesses his artful intentions in +the offer of marriage: yet had like, he says, to have been caught in his +own snares. + +LETTER XLVII. Joseph Leman to Mr. Lovelace.--With intelligence of a +design formed against him by the Harlowes. Joseph's vile hypocrisy and +selfishness. + +LETTER XLVIII. Lovelace. In answer.--Story of Miss Betterton. Boast of +his treatment of his mistresses. The artful use he makes of Joseph's +intelligence. + +LETTER XLIX. Clarissa to her aunt Hervey.--Complains of her silence. +Hints at her not having designed to go away with Lovelace. She will open +her whole heart to her, if she encourage her to do so, by the hopes of a +reconciliation. + +LETTER L. Miss Howe to Clarissa.--Observations on Lovelace's meanness, +pride, and revenge. Politeness not to be expected from him. She raves +at him for the artful manner in which he urges Clarissa to marry him. +Advises her how to act in her present situation. + +LETTER LI. Belford to Lovelace.--Becomes a warm advocate for the lady. +Gives many instructive reasons to enforce his arguments in her favour. + +LETTER LII. Mrs. Hervey to Clarissa.--A severe and cruel letter in +answer to her's, Letter XLIX. It was not designed, she says, absolutely +to force her to marry to her dislike. + +LETTER LIII. Clarissa to Miss Howe.--Her deep regret on this +intelligence, for having met Lovelace. The finer sensibilities make +not happy. Her fate too visibly in her power. He is unpolite, cruel, +insolent, unwise, a trifler in his own happiness. Her reasons why she +less likes him than ever. Her soul his soul's superior. Her fortitude. +Her prayer. + +LETTER LIV. LV. From the same.--Now indeed is her heart broken, she +says. A solemn curse laid upon her by her father. Her sister's barbarous +letters on the occasion. + +LETTER LVI. Miss Howe to Clarissa.--A letter full of generous +consolation and advice. Her friendly vow. Sends her fifty guineas in the +leaves of a Norris's miscellanies. + +LETTER LVII. Clarissa to Miss Howe.--A faithful friend the medicine of +life. She is just setting out for London. Lovelace has offered marriage +to her in so unreserved a manner, that she wishes she had never written +with diffidence of him. Is sorry it was not in her power to comply with +his earnest solicitations. Returns her Norris: and why. + +LETTER LVIII. LIX. Miss Howe to Clarissa.--Sorry she has returned +her Norris. Wishes she had accepted of Lovelace's unreserved offer of +marriage. Believes herself to have a sneaking kindness for Hickman: and +why. She blames Mrs. Harlowe: and why. + +In answer to Letter VIII. Clarissa states the difference in the +characters of Mr. Lovelace and Mr. Hickman; and tells her, that her +motives for suspending marriage were not merely ceremonious ones. +Regrets Mrs. Howe's forbidding the correspondence between them. Her +dutiful apology for her own mother. Lesson to children. + +LETTER LX. Lovelace to Belford.--Thinks he shall be inevitably manacled +at last. The lady's extreme illness. Her filial piety gives her dreadful +faith in a father's curses. She lets not Miss Howe know how very ill she +was. His vows of marriage bring her back to life. Absolutely in earnest +in those vows. [The only time he was so.] He can now talk of love and +marriage without check. Descants upon Belford's letter, No. LI. + +LETTER LXI. From the same.--Is setting out for London. A struggle with +his heart. Owns it to be a villain of a heart. A fit of strong, but +transitory remorse. If he do marry, he doubts he shall have a vapourish +wife. Thinks it would be better for both not to marry. His libertine +reasons. Lessons to the sex. + +LETTER LXII. From the same.--They arrive at Mrs. Sinclair's. Sally +Martin and Polly Horton set upon him. He wavers in his good purposes. +Dorcas Wykes proposed, and reluctantly accepted for a servant, till +Hannah can come. Dorcas's character. He has two great points to carry. +What they are. + + + + + +THE HISTORY OF CLARISSA HARLOWE + + + + +LETTER I + +MISS HOWE, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE TUESDAY, NINE O'CLOCK. + + +I write, because you enjoin me to do so. Love you still!--How can I +help it, if I would? You may believe how I stand aghast, your letter +communicating the first news--Good God of Heaven and Earth!--But what +shall I say?--I am all impatient for particulars. + +Lord have mercy upon me!--But can it be? + +My mother will indeed be astonished!--How can I tell it her!--It was +but last night (upon some jealousies put into her head by your foolish +uncle) that I assured her, and this upon the strength of your own +assurances, that neither man nor devil would be able to induce you to +take a step that was in the least derogatory to the most punctilious +honour. + +But, once more, can it be? What woman at this rate!--But, God preserve +you! + +Let nothing escape you in your letters. Direct them for me, however, to +Mrs. Knolly's, till further notice. + + +***** + + +Observe, my dear, that I don't blame you by all this--Your relations +only are in fault!--Yet how you came to change your mind is the +surprising thing. + +How to break it to my mother, I know not. Yet if she hear it first +from any other, and find I knew it before, she will believe it to be my +connivance!--Yet, as I hope to live, I know not how to break it to her. + +But this is teasing you.--I am sure, without intention. + +Let me now repeat my former advice--If you are not married by this time, +be sure delay not the ceremony. Since things are as they are, I wish it +were thought that you were privately married before you went away. If +these men plead AUTHORITY to our pain, when we are theirs--Why should we +not, in such a case as this, make some good out of the hated word, for +our reputation, when we are induced to violate a more natural one? + +Your brother and sister [that vexes me almost as much as any thing!] +have now their ends. Now, I suppose, will go forward alterations of +wills, and such-like spiteful doings. + + +***** + + +Miss Lloyd and Miss Biddulph this moment send up their names. They +are out of breath, Kitty says, to speak to me--easy to guess their +errand;--I must see my mother, before I see them. I have no way but to +shew her your letter to clear myself. I shall not be able to say a +word, till she has run herself out of her first breath.--Forgive me, my +dear--surprise makes me write thus. If your messenger did not wait, and +were not those young ladies below, I could write it over again, for fear +of afflicting you. + +I send what you write for. If there be any thing else you want that is +in my power, command without reserve + +Your ever affectionate ANNA HOWE. + + + + +LETTER II. + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE. TUESDAY NIGHT. + + +I think myself obliged to thank you, my dear Miss Howe, for your +condescension, in taking notice of a creature who has occasioned you so +much scandal. + +I am grieved on this account, as much, I verily think, as for the evil +itself. + +Tell me--but yet I am afraid to know--what your mother said. + +I long, and yet I dread, to be told, what the young ladies my +companions, now never more perhaps to be so, say of me. + +They cannot, however, say worse of me than I will of myself. Self +accusation shall flow in every line of my narrative where I think I am +justly censurable. If any thing can arise from the account I am going to +give you, for extenuation of my fault (for that is all a person can +hope for, who cannot excuse herself) I know I may expect it from your +friendship, though not from the charity of any other: since by this time +I doubt not every mouth is opened against me; and all that know Clarissa +Harlowe condemn the fugitive daughter. + +After I had deposited my letter to you, written down to the last hour, +as I may say, I returned to the ivy summer-house; first taking back my +letter from the loose bricks: and there I endeavoured, as coolly as my +situation would permit, to recollect and lay together several incidents +that had passed between my aunt and me; and, comparing them with some of +the contents of my cousin Dolly's letter, I began to hope, that I needed +not to be so very apprehensive as I have been of next Wednesday. And +thus I argued with myself. + +'Wednesday cannot possibly be the day they intend, although to +intimidate me they may wish me to think it is: for the settlements are +unsigned: nor have they been offered me to sign. I can choose whether I +will or will not put my hand to them; hard as it will be to refuse if my +father and mother propose, if I made compulsion necessary, to go to my +uncle's themselves in order to be out of the way of my appeals? Whereas +they intend to be present on Wednesday. And, however affecting to me the +thought of meeting them and all my friends in full assembly is, perhaps +it is the very thing I ought to wish for: since my brother and sister +had such an opinion of my interest in them, that they got me excluded +from their presence, as a measure which they thought previously +necessary to carry on their designs. + +'Nor have I reason to doubt, but that (as I had before argued with +myself) I shall be able to bring over some of my relations to my party; +and, being brought face to face with my brother, that I shall expose his +malevolence, and of consequence weaken his power. + +'Then supposing the very worst, challenging the minister as I shall +challenge him, he will not presume to proceed: nor surely will Mr. +Solmes dare to accept my refusing and struggling hand. And finally, +if nothing else will do, nor procure me delay, I can plead scruples of +conscience, and even pretend prior obligation; for, my dear, I have give +Mr. Lovelace room to hope (as you will see in one of my letters in your +hands) that I will be no other man's while he is single, and gives me +not wilful and premeditated cause of offence against him; and this in +order to rein-in his resentment on the declared animosity of my brother +and uncles to him. And as I shall appeal, or refer my scruples on this +head, to the good Dr. Lewen, it is impossible but that my mother and +aunt (if nobody else) must be affected with this plea.' + +Revolving cursorily these things, I congratulated myself, that I had +resolved against going away with Mr. Lovelace. + +I told you, my dear, that I would not spare myself: and I enumerate +these particulars as so many arguments to condemn the actions I have +been so unhappily betrayed into. An argument that concludes against me +with the greater force, as I must acknowledge, that I was apprehensive, +that what my cousin Dolly mentions as from Betty, and from my sister who +told her, that she should tell me, in order to make me desperate, and +perhaps to push me upon some such step as I have been driven to take, as +the most effectual means to ruin me with my father and uncles. + +God forgive me, if I judge too harshly of their views!--But if I do not, +it follows, that they laid a wicked snare for me; and that I have been +caught in it.--And now they triumph, if they can triumph, in the ruin of +a sister, who never wished or intended to hurt them! + +As the above kind of reasoning had lessened my apprehensions as to the +Wednesday, it added to those I had of meeting Mr. Lovelace--now, as it +seemed, not only the nearest, but the heaviest evil; principally indeed +because nearest; for little did I dream (foolish creature that I +was, and every way beset!) of the event proving what it has proved. I +expected a contention with him, 'tis true, as he had not my letter: but +I thought it would be very strange, as I mentioned in one of my former,* +if I, who had so steadily held out against characters so venerable, +against authorities so sacred, as I may say, when I thought them +unreasonably exerted, should not find myself more equal to such a trial +as this; especially as I had so much reason to be displeased with him +for not having taken away my letter. + +On what a point of time may one's worldly happiness depend! Had I but +two hours more to consider of the matter, and to attend to and improve +upon these new lights, as I may call them--but even then, perhaps, I +might have given him a meeting.--Fool that I was! what had I to do to +give him hope that I would personally acquaint him with the reason for +my change of mind, if I did change it? + +O my dear! an obliging temper is a very dangerous temper!--By +endeavouring to gratify others, it is evermore disobliging itself! + +When the bell rang to call the servants to dinner, Betty came to me +and asked, if I had any commands before she went to hers; repeating +her hint, that she should be employed; adding, that she believed it was +expected that I should not come up till she came down, or till I saw my +aunt or Miss Hervey. + +I asked her some questions about the cascade, which had been out of +order, and lately mended; and expressed a curiosity to see how it +played, in order to induce her [how cunning to cheat myself, as it +proved!] to go thither, if she found me not where she left me; it being +a part of the garden most distant from the ivy summer-house. + +She could hardly have got into the house when I heard the first +signal--O how my heart fluttered!--but no time was to be lost. I +stept to the garden-door; and seeing a clear coast, unbolted the +already-unlocked door--and there was he, all impatience, waiting for me. + +A panic next to fainting seized me when I saw him. My heart seemed +convulsed; and I trembled so, that I should hardly have kept my feet, +had he not supported me. + +Fear nothing, dearest creature, said he--let us hasten away--the chariot +is at hand--and, by this sweet condescension, you have obliged me beyond +expression or return. + +Recovering my spirits a little, as he kept drawing me after him, O Mr. +Lovelace, said I, I cannot go with you--indeed I cannot--I wrote you +word so--let go my hand, and you shall see my letter. It is lain there +from yesterday morning, till within this half-hour. I bid you watch to +the last for a letter from me, lest I should be obliged to revoke the +appointment; and, had you followed the direction, you would have found +it. + +I have been watched, my dearest life, said he, half out of breath--I +have been watched in every step I took: and my trusty servant has been +watched too, ever since Saturday; and dared not to come near your +wall. And here we shall be discovered in a moment.--Speed away, my +charmer--this is the moment of your deliverance--if you neglect this +opportunity, you can never have such another. + +What is it you mean, Sir?--Let go my hand: for I tell you [struggling +vehemently] that I will sooner die than go with you. + +Good God! said he, with a look of wildness and surprise, what is it I +hear?--But [still drawing me after him, as he retreated farther from the +door] it is no time to argue--by all that's good you must go--surely you +cannot doubt my honour, nor give me cause to question your own. + +As you value me, Mr. Lovelace, urge me no farther. I come fixed and +resolved. Let me give you the letter I have written. My further reasons +shall follow; and they will convince you that I ought not to go. + +Nothing, Madam, can convince me--by all that's sacred, I will not leave +you. To leave you now, would be to lose you for ever-- + +Am I to be thus compelled? interrupted I, with equal indignation and +vehemence.--Let go my hands--I am resolved not to go with you--and I +will convince you that I ought not. + +All my friends expect you, Madam--all your own are determined against +you--Wednesday next is the day, the important, perhaps the fatal day! +Would you stay to be Solmes's wife?--Can this be your determination at +last? + +No, never, never will I be that man's--But I will not go with you! [draw +me not thus--How dare you, Sir? I would not have seen you, but to tell +you so]. I had not met you, but for fear you would have been guilty of +some rashness--and, once more, I will not go--What mean you?--striving +with all my force to get from him. + +What can have possessed my angel, said he [quitting my hands, and with a +gentler voice] that after so much ill-usage from your relations; vows so +solemn on my part; an affection so ardent; you stab me with a refusal to +stand by your own appointment? + +We have no time to talk, Mr. Lovelace. I will give you my reasons at a +better opportunity. I cannot go with you now--and once more urge me no +farther--surely, I am not to be compelled by every body! + +I see how it is, said he, with a dejected but passionate air--What a +severe fate is mine!--At length your spirit is subdued!--Your brother +and sister have prevailed; and I must give up all my hopes to a wretch +so truly despicable-- + +Once more I tell you, interrupted I, I never will be his--all may end on +Wednesday differently from what you expect-- + +And it may not!--And then, good heavens! + +It is to be their last effort, as I have reason to believe-- + +And I have reason to believe so too--since if you stay, you will +inevitably be Solmes's wife. + +Not so, interrupted I--I have obliged them in one point. They will be +in good-humour with me. I shall gain time at least. I am sure I shall. I +have several ways to gain time. + +And what, Madam, will gaining time do? It is plain you have not a +hope beyond that--it is plain you have not, by putting all upon that +precarious issue. O my dearest, dearest life, let me beseech you not +to run a risque of this consequence. I can convince you that it will be +more than a risque if you go back, that you will on Wednesday next be +Solmes's wife.--Prevent, therefore, now that it is in your power to +prevent, the fatal mischief that will follow such a dreadful certainty. + +While I have any room for hope, it concerns your honour, Mr. Lovelace, +as well as mine, (if you have the value for me you pretend, and wish me +to believe you,) that my conduct in this great point should justify my +prudence. + +Your prudence, Madam! When has that been questionable? Yet what stead +has either your prudence or your duty stood you in, with people so +strangely determined? + +And then he pathetically enumerated the different instances of the harsh +treatment I had met with; imputing all to the malice and caprice of a +brother, who set every body against him: and insisting, that I had no +other way to bring about a reconciliation with my father and uncles, +than by putting myself out of the power of my brother's inveterate +malice. + +Your brother's whole reliance, proceeded he, has been upon your easiness +to bear his insults. Your whole family will seek to you, when you have +freed yourself from this disgraceful oppression. When they know you are +with those who can and will right you, they will give up to you your own +estate. Why then, putting his arms around me, and again drawing me +with a gentle force after him, do you hesitate a moment?--Now is the +time--Fly with me, then, I beseech you, my dearest creature! Trust +your persecuted adorer. Have we not suffered in the same cause? If any +imputations are cast upon you, give me the honour (as I shall be found +to deserve it) to call you mine; and, when you are so, shall I not be +able to protect both your person and character? + +Urge me no more, Mr. Lovelace, I conjure you. You yourself have given +me a hint, which I will speak plainer to, than prudence, perhaps, on any +other occasion, would allow. I am convinced, that Wednesday next (if I +had time I would give you my reasons) is not intended to be the day we +had both so much dreaded: and if after that day shall be over, I find my +friends determined in Mr. Solmes's favour, I will then contrive some +way to meet you with Miss Howe, who is not your enemy: and when the +solemnity has passed, I shall think that step a duty, which till then +will be criminal to take: since now my father's authority is unimpeached +by any greater. + +Dearest Madam-- + +Nay, Mr. Lovelace, if you now dispute--if, after this more favourable +declaration, than I had the thought of making, you are not satisfied, I +shall know what to think both of your gratitude and generosity. + +The case, Madam, admits not of this alternative. I am all gratitude upon +it. I cannot express how much I should be delighted with the charming +hope you have given me, were you not next Wednesday, if you stay, to +be another man's. Think, dearest creature! what an heightening of my +anguish the distant hope you bid me look up to is, taken in this light! + +Depend, depend upon it, I will die sooner than be Mr. Solmes's. If you +would have me rely upon your honour, why should you doubt of mine? + +I doubt not your honour, Madam; your power is all I doubt. You never, +never can have such another opportunity.--Dearest creature, permit +me--and he was again drawing me after him. + +Whither, Sir, do you draw me?--Leave me this moment--Do you seek to keep +me till my return shall grow dangerous or impracticable? This moment let +me go, if you would have me think tolerably of you. + +My happiness, Madam, both here and hereafter, and the safety of all your +implacable family, depend upon this moment. + +To Providence, Mr. Lovelace, and to the law, will I leave the safety +of my friends. You shall not threaten me into a rashness that my heart +condemns!--Shall I, to promote your happiness, as you call it, depend +upon future peace of mind? + +You trifle with me, my dear life, just as our better prospects begin to +open. The way is clear; just now it is clear; but you may be prevented +in a moment. What is it you doubt?--May I perish eternally, if your +will shall not be a law to me in every thing! All my relations expect +you.--Next Wednesday!--Dearest creature! think of next Wednesday!--And +to what is it I urge you, but to take a step that sooner than any other +will reconcile you to all whom you have most reason to value in your +family? + +Let my judge for myself, Sir. Do not you, who blame my friends for +endeavouring to compel me, yourself seek to compel. I won't bear it. +Your earnestness gives me greater apprehensions, and greater reluctance. +Let me go back, then--let me, before it is too late, go back, that it +may not be worse for both--What mean you by this forcible treatment? Is +it thus that I am to judge of the entire submission to my will which you +have so often vowed?--Unhand me this moment, or I will cry out for help. + +I will obey you, my dearest creature!--And quitted my hand with a look +full of tender despondency, that, knowing the violence of his temper, +half-concerned me for him. Yet I was hastening from him, when, with a +solemn air, looking upon his sword, but catching, as it were, his hand +from it, he folded both his arms, as if a sudden thought had recovered +him from an intended rashness. + +Stay, one moment--but one moment stay, O best beloved of my soul!--Your +retreat is secure, if you will go: the key lies at the door.--But, +O Madam, next Wednesday, and you are Mr. Solmes's!--Fly me not so +eagerly--hear me but a few words. + +When near the garden-door, I stopped; and was the more satisfied, as +I saw the key there, by which I could let myself in again at pleasure. +But, being uneasy lest I should be missed, I told him, I could stay +no longer. I had already staid too long. I would write to him all my +reasons. And depend upon it, Mr. Lovelace, said I [just upon the point +of stooping for the key, in order to return] I will die, rather than +have that man. You know what I have promised, if I find myself in +danger. + +One word, Madam, however; one word more [approaching me, his arms still +folded, as if, I thought, he would not be tempted to mischief]. Remember +only, that I come at your appointment, to redeem you, at the hazard of +my life, from your gaolers and persecutors, with a resolution, God is +my witness, or may he for ever blast me! [that was his shocking +imprecation] to be a father, uncle, brother, and, as I humbly hoped, in +your own good time, a husband to you, all in one. But since I find you +are so ready to cry out for help against me, which must bring down upon +me the vengeance of all your family, I am contented to run all risques. +I will not ask you to retreat with me; I will attend you into the +garden, and into the house, if I am not intercepted. + +Nay, be not surprised, Madam. The help you would have called for, I will +attend you to; for I will face them all: but not as a revenger, if they +provoke me not too much. You shall see what I can further bear for your +sake--and let us both see, if expostulation, and the behaviour of a +gentleman to them, will not procure me the treatment due to a gentleman +from them. + +Had he offered to draw his sword upon himself, I was prepared to have +despised him for supposing me such a poor novice, as to be intimidated +by an artifice so common. But this resolution, uttered with so serious +an air, of accompanying me in to my friends, made me gasp with terror. + +What mean you, Mr. Lovelace? said I: I beseech you leave me--leave me, +Sir, I beseech you. + +Excuse me, Madam! I beg you to excuse me. I have long enough skulked +like a thief about these lonely walls--long, too long, have I borne +the insults of your brother, and other of your relations. Absence but +heightens malice. I am desperate. I have but this one chance for it; for +is not the day after to-morrow Wednesday? I have encouraged virulence +by my tameness.--Yet tame I will still be. You shall see, Madam, what I +will bear for your sake. My sword shall be put sheathed into your hands +[and he offered it to me in the scabbard].--My heart, if you please, +clapping one hand upon his breast, shall afford a sheath for your +brother's sword. Life is nothing, if I lose you--be pleased, Madam, to +shew me the way into the garden [moving toward the door]. I will attend +you, though to my fate!--But too happy, be it what it will, if I receive +it in your presence. Lead on, dear creature! [putting his sword into his +belt]--You shall see what I can bear for you. And he stooped and took +up the key; and offered it to the lock; but dropped it again, without +opening the door, upon my earnest expostulations. + +What can you mean, Mr. Lovelace?--said I--Would you thus expose +yourself? Would you thus expose me?--Is this your generosity? Is every +body to take advantage thus of the weakness of my temper? + +And I wept. I could not help it. + +He threw himself upon his knees at my feet--Who can bear, said he, [with +an ardour that could not be feigned, his own eyes glistening,] who +can bear to behold such sweet emotion?--O charmer of my heart, [and, +respectfully still kneeling, he took my hand with both his, pressing it +to his lips,] command me with you, command me from you; in every way +I am implicit to obedience--but I appeal to all you know of your +relations' cruelty to you, their determined malice against me, and as +determined favour to the man you tell me you hate, (and, O Madam, if you +did not hate him, I should hardly think there would be a merit in your +approbation, place it where you would)--I appeal to every thing you +know, to all you have suffered, whether you have not reason to be +apprehensive of that Wednesday, which is my terror!--whether you can +possibly have another opportunity--the chariot ready: my friends with +impatience expecting the result of your own appointment: a man whose +will shall be entirely your will, imploring you, thus, on his knees, +imploring you--to be your own mistress; that is all: nor will I ask +for your favour, but as upon full proof I shall appear to deserve it. +Fortune, alliance, unobjectionable!--O my beloved creature! pressing my +hand once more to his lips, let not such an opportunity slip. You never, +never will have such another. + +I bid him rise. He arose; and I told him, that were I not thus +unaccountably hurried by his impatience, I doubted not to convince +him, that both he and I had looked upon next Wednesday with greater +apprehension than was necessary. I was proceeding to give him my +reasons; but he broke in upon me-- + +Had I, Madam, but the shadow of a probability to hope what you hope, I +would be all obedience and resignation. But the license is actually +got: the parson is provided: the pedant Brand is the man. O my dearest +creature, do these preparations mean only a trial? + +You know not, Sir, were the worst to be intended, and weak as you think +me, what a spirit I have: you know not what I can do, and how I can +resist when I think myself meanly or unreasonably dealt with: nor do you +know what I have already suffered, what I have already borne, knowing to +whose unbrotherly instigations all is to be ascribed-- + +I may expect all things, Madam, interrupted he, from the nobleness of +your mind. But your spirits may fail you. What may not be apprehended +from the invincible temper of a father so positive, to a daughter so +dutiful?--Fainting will not save you: they will not, perhaps, be sorry +for such an effect of their barbarity. What will signify expostulations +against a ceremony performed? Must not all, the dreadful all follow, +that is torture to my heart but to think of? Nobody to appeal to, of +what avail will your resistance be against the consequences of a rite +witnessed to by the imposers of it, and those your nearest relations? + +I was sure, I said, of procuring a delay at least. Many ways I had to +procure a delay. Nothing could be so fatal to us both, as for me now to +be found with him. My apprehensions on this score, I told him, grew too +strong for my heart. I should think very hardly of him, if he sought to +detain me longer. But his acquiescence should engage my gratitude. + +And then stooping to take up the key to let myself into the garden, he +started, and looked as if he had heard somebody near the door, on the +inside; clapping his hand on his sword. + +This frighted me so, that I thought I should have sunk down at his feet. +But he instantly re-assured me: He thought, he said, he had heard a +rustling against the door: but had it been so, the noise would have been +stronger. It was only the effect of his apprehension for me. + +And then taking up the key, he presented it to me.--If you will go, +Madam--Yet, I cannot, cannot leave you!--I must enter the garden with +you--forgive me, but I must enter the garden with you. + +And will you, will you thus ungenerously, Mr. Lovelace, take advantage +of my fears? of my wishes to prevent mischief? I, vain fool, to be +concerned for every one; nobody for me! + +Dearest creature! interrupted he, holding my hand, as I tremblingly +offered to put the key to the lock--let me, if you will go, open the +door. But once more, consider, could you possibly obtain that delay +which seems to be your only dependence, whether you may not be closer +confined? I know they have already had that in consideration. Will you +not, in this case, be prevented from corresponding either with Miss +Howe, or with me?--Who then shall assist you in your escape, if escape +you would?--From your chamber-window only permitted to view the garden +you must not enter into, how will you wish for the opportunity you +now have, if your hatred to Solmes continue!--But alas! that cannot +continue. If you go back, it must be from the impulses of a yielding +(which you'll call, a dutiful) heart, tired and teased out of your own +will. + +I have no patience, Sir, to be thus constrained. Must I never be at +liberty to follow my own judgment? Be the consequence what it may, I +will not be thus constrained. + +And then, freeing my hand, I again offered the key to the door. + +Down the ready kneeler dropt between me and that: And can you, can you, +Madam, once more on my knees let me ask you, look with an indifferent +eye upon the evils that may follow? Provoked as I have been, and +triumphed over as I shall be, if your brother succeeds, my own heart +shudders, at times, at the thoughts of what must happen: And can yours +be unconcerned? Let me beseech you, dearest creature, to consider all +these things; and lose not this only opportunity. My intelligence-- + +Never, Mr. Lovelace, interrupted I, give so much credit to the words of +a traitor. Your base intelligencer is but a servant. He may pretend +to know more than he has grounds for, in order to earn the wages of +corruption. You know not what contrivances I can find out. + +I was once more offering the key to the lock, when, starting from his +knees, with a voice of affrightment, loudly whispering, and as if out +of breath, they are at the door, my beloved creature! and taking the +key from me, he fluttered with it, as if he would double lock it. And +instantly a voice from within cried out, bursting against the door, as +if to break it open, the person repeating his violent pushes, Are you +there?--come up this moment!--this moment!--here they are--here they are +both together!--your pistol this moment!--your gun!--Then another push, +and another. He at the same moment drew his sword, and clapping it +naked under his arm, took both my trembling hands in his; and drawing me +swiftly after him, Fly, fly, my charmer; this moment is all you have for +it, said he.--Your brother!--your uncles!--or this Solmes!--they will +instantly burst the door--fly, my dearest life, if you would not be +more cruelly used than ever--if you would not see two or three murders +committed at your feet, fly, fly, I beseech you. + +O Lord:--help, help, cried the fool, all in amaze and confusion, +frighted beyond the power of controuling. + +Now behind me, now before me, now on this side, now on that, turned I my +affrighted face, in the same moment; expecting a furious brother here, +armed servants there, an enraged sister screaming, and a father armed +with terror in his countenance more dreadful than even the drawn sword +which I saw, or those I apprehended. I ran as fast as he; yet knew not +that I ran; my fears adding wings to my feet, at the same time that they +took all power of thinking from me--my fears, which probably would not +have suffered me to know what course to take, had I not had him to urge +and draw me after him: especially as I beheld a man, who must have come +out of the door, keeping us in his eye, running now towards us; then +back to the garden; beckoning and calling to others, whom I supposed he +saw, although the turning of the wall hindered me from seeing them; and +whom I imagined to be my brother, my father, and their servants. + +Thus terrified, I was got out of sight of the door in a very few +minutes: and then, although quite breathless between running and +apprehension, he put my arm under his, his drawn sword in the other +hand, and hurried me on still faster: my voice, however, contradicting +my action; crying, no, no, no, all the while; straining my neck to look +back, as long as the walls of the garden and park were within sight, +and till he brought me to the chariot: where, attending, were two armed +servants of his own, and two of Lord M.'s on horseback. + +Here I must suspend my relation for a while: for now I am come to this +sad period of it, my indiscretion stares me in the face; and my shame +and my grief give me a compunction that is more poignant methinks than +if I had a dagger in my heart. To have it to reflect, that I should +so inconsiderately give in to an interview, which, had I known either +myself or him, or in the least considered the circumstances of the case, +I might have supposed would put me into the power of his resolution, and +out of that of my own reason. + +For, might I not have believed, that he, who thought he had cause to +apprehend that he was on the point of losing a person who had cost +him so much pains and trouble, would not hinder her, if possible, from +returning? That he, who knew I had promised to give him up for ever, if +insisted as a condition of reconciliation, would not endeavour to put it +out of my power to do so? In short, that he, who had artfully forborne +to send for my letter, (for he could not be watched, my dear,) lest he +should find in it a countermand to my appointment, (as I myself could +apprehend, although I profited by the apprehension,) would want a device +to keep me with him till the danger of having our meeting discovered +might throw me absolutely into his power, to avoid my own worse usage, +and the mischiefs which might have ensued (perhaps in my very sight) had +my friends and he met? + +But if it shall come out, that the person within the garden was his +corrupted implement, employed to frighten me away with him, do you +think, my dear, that I shall not have reason to hate him and myself +still more? I hope his heart cannot be so deep and so vile a one: I hope +it cannot! But how came it to pass, that one man could get out at the +garden-door, and no more? how, that that man kept aloof, as it were, +and pursued us not; nor ran back to alarm the house? my fright, and my +distance, would not let me be certain; but really this man, as I now +recollect, had the air of that vile Joseph Leman. + +O why, why, my dear friends!--But wherefore blame I them, when I had +argued myself into a hope, not improbable, that even the dreadful +trial I was to undergo so soon might turn out better than if I had been +directly carried away from the presence of my once indulgent parents, +who might possibly intend that trial to be the last I should have had? + +Would to Heaven, that I had stood it, however! then if I had afterwards +done, what now I have been prevailed upon, or perhaps foolishly +frightened to do, I should not have been stung so much by inward +reproach as now I am: and this would have been a great evil avoided. + +You know, my dear, that your Clarissa's mind was ever above justifying +her own failings by those of others. God forgive those of my friends +who have acted cruelly by me! But their faults are their own, and +not excuses for mine. And mine began early: for I ought not to have +corresponded with him. + +O the vile encroacher! how my indignation, at times, rises at him! thus +to lead a young creature (too much indeed relying upon her own strength) +from evil to evil!--This last evil, although the remote, yet sure +consequence of my first--my prohibited correspondence! by a father early +prohibited. + +How much more properly had I acted, with regard to that correspondence, +had I, once for all, when he was forbidden to visit me, and I to receive +his visits, pleaded the authority by which I ought to have been bound, +and denied to write to him!--But I thought I could proceed, or stop, as +I pleased. I supposed it concerned me, more than any other, to be +the arbitress of the quarrels of unruly spirits.--And now I find my +presumption punished--punished, as other sins frequently are, by itself! + +As to this last rashness; now, that it is too late, I plainly see how +I ought to have conducted myself. As he knew I had but one way of +transmitting to him the knowledge of what befel me; as he knew that my +fate was upon a crisis with my friends; and that I had in my letter +to him reserved the liberty of revocation; I should not have been +solicitous whether he had got my letter or not: when he had come, and +found I did not answer to his signal, he would presently have resorted +to the loose bricks, and there been satisfied, by the date of my letter, +that it was his own fault that he had it not before. But, governed by +the same pragmatical motives which induced me to correspond with him at +first, I was again afraid, truly, with my foolish and busy prescience; +and the disappointment would have thrown him into the way of receiving +fresh insults from the same persons; which might have made him guilty +of some violence to them. And so to save him an apprehended rashness, +I rushed into a real one myself. And what vexes me more is, that it is +plain to me now, by all his behaviour, that he had as great a confidence +in my weakness, as I had in my own strength. And so, in a point entirely +relative to my honour, he has triumphed; for he has not been mistaken in +me, while I have in myself! + +Tell me, my dear Miss Howe, tell me truly, if your unbiassed heart does +not despise me?--It must! for your mind and mine were ever one; and +I despise myself!--And well I may: For could the giddiest and most +inconsiderate girl in England have done worse than I shall appear to +have done in the eye of the world? Since my crime will be known without +the provocations, and without the artifices of the betrayer too; while +it will be a high aggravation, that better things were expected from me +than from many others. + +You charge me to marry the first opportunity--Ah! my dear! another of +the blessed effects of my folly--That's as much in my power now as--as +I am myself!--And can I besides give a sanction immediately to his +deluding arts?--Can I avoid being angry with him for tricking me thus, +as I may say, (and as I have called it to him,) out of myself?--For +compelling me to take a step so contrary to all my resolutions and +assurances given to you; a step so dreadfully inconvenient to myself; so +disgraceful and so grievous (as it must be) to my dear mother, were I to +be less regardful of any other of my family or friends?--You don't know, +nor can you imagine, my dear, how I am mortified!--How much I am sunk +in my own opinion! I, that was proposed for an example, truly, to +others!--O that I were again in my father's house, stealing down with +a letter to you; my heart beating with expectation of finding one from +you! + + +***** + + +This is the Wednesday morning I dreaded so much, that I once thought +of it as the day of my doom: but of the Monday, it is plain, I ought to +have been most apprehensive. Had I staid, and had the worst I +dreaded happened, my friends would then have been answerable for the +consequences, if any bad ones had followed:--but now, I have only this +consolation left me (a very poor one, you'll say!) that I have cleared +them of blame, and taken it all upon myself! + +You will not wonder to see this narrative so dismally scrawled. It is +owing to different pens and ink, all bad, and written in snatches of +time; my hand trembling too with fatigue and grief. + +I will not add to the length of it, by the particulars of his behaviour +to me, and of our conversation at St. Alban's, and since; because those +will come in course in the continuation of my story; which, no doubt, +you will expect from me. + +Only thus much will I say, that he is extremely respectful (even +obsequiously so) at present, though I am so much dissatisfied with +him and myself that he has hitherto had no great cause to praise my +complaisance to him. Indeed, I can hardly, at times, bear the seducer in +my sight. + +The lodgings I am in are inconvenient. I shall not stay in them: so it +signifies nothing to tell you how to direct to me hither. And where my +next may be, as yet I know not. + +He knows that I am writing to you; and has offered to send my letter, +when finished, by a servant of his. But I thought I could not be too +cautious, as I am now situated, in having a letter of this importance +conveyed to you. Who knows what such a man may do? So very wicked +a contriver! The contrivance, if a contrivance, to get me away, so +insolently mean!--But I hope it is not a contrivance neither!--Yet, be +that as it will, I must say, that the best of him, and of my prospects +with him, are bad; and yet, having enrolled myself among the too-late +repenters, who shall pity me? + +Nevertheless, I will dare to hope for a continued interest in your +affections [I shall be miserable indeed if I may not!] and to be +remembered in your daily prayers. For neither time nor accident shall +ever make me cease to be + +Your faithful and affectionate CLARISSA HARLOWE. + + + + +LETTER III + +MR. LOVELACE, TO JOSEPH LEMAN SAT. APRIL 8. + + +HONEST JOSEPH, + +At length your beloved young lady has consented to free herself from +the cruel treatment she has so long borne. She is to meet me without the +garden-door at about four o'clock on Monday afternoon. I told you she +had promised to do so. She has confirmed her promise. Thank Heaven she +has confirmed her promise! + +I shall have a chariot-and-six ready in the by-road fronting the private +path to Harlowe-paddock; and several of my friends and servants not far +off, armed to protect her, if there be occasion: but every one charged +to avoid mischief. That, you know, has always been my principal care. + +All my fear is, that, when she comes to the point, the over-niceness of +her principles will make her waver, and want to go back: although her +honour is my honour, you know, and mine is her's. If she should, and +should I be unable to prevail upon her, all your past services will +avail nothing, and she will be lost to me for ever: the prey then of +that cursed Solmes, whose vile stinginess will never permit him to do +good to any of the servants of the family. + +I have no doubt of your fidelity, honest Joseph; nor of your zeal to +serve an injured gentleman, and an oppressed young lady. You see by the +confidence I repose in you, that I have not; more particularly, on this +very important occasion, in which your assistance may crown the work: +for, if she waver, a little innocent contrivance will be necessary. + +Be very mindful, therefore, of the following directions; take them into +your heart. This will probably be your last trouble, until my beloved +and I are joined in holy wedlock: and then we will be sure to take care +of you. You know what I have promised. No man ever reproached me for +breach of word. + +These, then, honest Joseph, are they: + +Contrive to be in the garden, in disguise, if possible, and unseen by +your young lady. If you find the garden-door unbolted, you will know +that she and I are together, although you should not see her go out at +it. It will be locked, but my key shall be on the ground just without +the door, that you may open it with your's, as it may be needful. + +If you hear our voices parleying, keep at the door till I cry Hem, hem, +twice: but be watchful for this signal; for I must not hem very loud, +lest she should take it for a signal. Perhaps, in struggling to prevail +upon the dear creature, I may have an opportunity to strike the door +hard with my elbow, or heel, to confirm you--then you are to make a +violent burst against the door, as if you would break it open, drawing +backward and forward the bolt in a hurry: then, with another push, but +with more noise than strength, lest the lock give way, cry out (as if +you saw some of the family) Come up, come up, instantly!--Here they +are! Here they are!--Hasten!--This instant! hasten! And mention swords, +pistols, guns, with as terrible a voice as you can cry out with. Then +shall I prevail upon her, no doubt, if loth before, to fly. If I cannot, +I will enter the garden with her, and the house too, be the consequence +what it will. But, so affrighted, these is no question but she will fly. + +When you think us at a sufficient distance [and I shall raise my voice +urging her swifter flight, that you may guess at that] then open the +door with your key: but you must be sure to open it very cautiously, +lest we should not be far enough off. I would not have her know you have +a hand in this matter, out of my great regard to you. + +When you have opened the door, take your key out of the lock, and put +it in your pocket: then, stooping for mine, put it in the lock on the +inside, that it may appear as if the door was opened by herself, with +a key, which they will suppose to be of my procuring (it being new) and +left open by us. + +They should conclude she is gone off by her own consent, that they may +not pursue us: that they may see no hopes of tempting her back again. In +either case, mischief might happen, you know. + +But you must take notice, that you are only to open the door with your +key, in case none of the family come up to interrupt us, and before we +are quite gone: for, if they do, you'll find by what follows, that you +must not open the door at all. Let them, on breaking it open, or by +getting over the wall, find my key on the ground, if they will. + +If they do not come to interrupt us, and if you, by help of your key, +come out, follow us at a distance; and, with uplifted hands, and wild +impatient gestures, (running backward and forward, for fear you +should come up too near us, and as if you saw somebody coming to your +assistance,) cry out for help, help, and to hasten. Then shall we be +soon at the chariot. + +Tell the family that you saw me enter a chariot with her: a dozen, +or more, men on horseback, attending us; all armed; some with +blunderbusses, as you believe; and that we took quite the contrary way +to that we should take. + +You see, honest Joseph, how careful I am, as well as you, to avoid +mischief. + +Observe to keep at such a distance that she may not discover who you +are. Take long strides, to alter your gait; and hold up your head, +honest Joseph; and she'll not know it to be you. Men's airs and gaits +are as various and peculiar as their faces. Pluck a stake out of one of +the hedges: and tug at it, though it may come easy: this, if she turn +back, will look terrible, and account for your not following us faster. +Then, returning with it, shouldered, to brag to the family what you +would have done, could you have overtaken us, rather than your young +lady should be carried off by such a ------ And you may call me names, +and curse me. And these airs will make you look valiant, and in earnest. +You see, honest Joseph, I am always contriving to give you reputation. +No man suffers by serving me. + +But, if our parley should last longer than I wish; and if any of her +friends miss her before I cry, Hem, hem, twice; then, in order to save +yourself, (which is a very great point with me, I assure you,) make the +same noise as above: but as I directed before, open not the door with +your key. On the contrary, wish for a key with all your heart; but +for fear any of them should by accident have a key about them, keep in +readiness half a dozen little gravel-stones, no bigger than peas, and +thrust two or three slily into the key-hole; which will hinder their +key from turning round. It is good, you know, Joseph, to provide against +every accident in such an important case, as this. And let this be your +cry, instead of the other, if any of my enemies come in your sight, as +you seem to be trying to burst the door open, Sir! Sir! or Madam! Madam! +O Lord, hasten! O Lord, hasten! Mr. Lovelace! Mr. Lovelace!--And very +loud--and that shall quicken me more than it shall those you call +to.--If it be Betty, and only Betty, I shall think worse of your art +of making love* than of your fidelity, if you can't find a way to amuse +her, and put her upon a false scent. + + + * See Vol.II. Letter XXIX. + + +You must tell them that your young lady seemed to run as fast off with +me as I with her. This will also confirm to them that all pursuit is +in vain. An end will hereby be put to Solmes's hopes: and her friends, +after a while, will be more studious to be reconciled to her than to get +her back. So you will be a happy instrument of great good to all round. +And this will one day be acknowledged by both families. You will then be +every one's favourite; and every good servant, for the future, will be +proud to be likened to honest Joseph Leman. + +If she should guess at you, or find you out, I have it already in my +head to write a letter for you to copy,* which, occasionally produced, +will set you right with her. + + + * See Vol.III. Letter XXI. + + +This one time be diligent, be careful: this will be the crown of all: +and once more, depend, for a recompense, upon the honour of + +Your assured friend, R. LOVELACE. + +You need not be so much afraid of going too far with Betty. If you +should make a match with her, she is a very likely creature, though +a vixen, as you say. I have an admirable receipt to cure a termagant +wife.--Never fear, Joseph, but thou shalt be master of thine house. If +she be very troublesome, I can teach thee how to break her heart in a +twelvemonth; and honestly too;--or the precept would not be mine. + +I enclose a new earnest of my future favour. + + + + +LETTER IV + +TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQUIER, HIS HONNER SUNDAY MORNING, APRIL 9. + + +HONNERED SIR, + +I must confesse I am infinitely obliged to your Honner's bounty. But +this last command!--It seems so intricket! Lord be merciful to me, how +have I been led from littel stepps to grate stepps!--And if I should +be found out!--But your Honner says you will take me into your Honner's +sarvise, and protect me, if as I should at any time be found out; +and raise my wages besides; or set me upp in a good inne; which is my +ambishion. And you will be honnerable and kind to my dearest young lady, +God love her.--But who can be unkind to she? + +I wil do my best I am able, since your Honner will be apt to lose her, +as your Honner says, if I do not; and a man so stingie will be apt +to gain her. But mayhap my deareste young lady will not make all this +trubble needful. If she has promissed, she will stand to it, I dare to +say. + +I love your Honner for contriveing to save mischiff so well. I thought +till I know'd your Honner, that you was verry mischevous, and plese +your Honner: but find it to be clene contrary. Your Honner, it is plane, +means mighty well by every body, as far as I see. As I am sure I do +myself; for I am, althoff a very plane man, and all that, a very honnest +one, I thank my God. And have good principels, and have kept my young +lady's pressepts always in mind: for she goes no where, but saves a soul +or two, more or less. + +So, commending myself to your Honner's further favour, not forgetting +the inne, when your Honner shall so please, and good one offers; for +plases are no inherritanses now-a-days. And, I hope, your Honner will +not think me a dishonest man for sarving your Honner agenst my duty, as +it may look; but only as my conshence clears me. + +Be pleased, howsomever, if it like your Honner, not to call me honest +Joseph, so often. For, althoff I think myself verry honnest, and all +that, yet I am touched a littel, for fear I should not do the quite +right thing: and too besides, your Honner has such a fesseshious way +with you, as that I hardly know whether you are in jest or earnest, when +your Honner calls me honnest so often. + +I am a very plane man, and seldom have writ to such honourable +gentlemen; so you will be good enuff to pass by every thing, as I have +often said, and need not now say over again. + +As to Mrs. Betty; I tho'te, indeed, she looked above me. But she comes +on vere well, natheless. I could like her better, iff she was better to +my young lady. But she has too much wit for so plane a man. Natheless, +if she was to angre me, althoff it is a shame to bete a woman, yet I +colde make shift to throe my hat at her, or so, your Honner. + +But that same reseit, iff your Honner so please, to cure a shrewish +wife. It would more encurrege to wed, iff so be one know'd it +before-hand, as one may say. So likewise, if one knoed one could +honnestly, as your Honner says, and as of the handy-work of God, in one +twelvemonth-- + +But, I shall grow impertinent to such a grate man.--And hereafter may +do for that, as she turnes out: for one mought be loth to part with her, +mayhap, so verry soon too; espessially if she was to make the notable +landlady your Honner put into my head. + +Butt wonce moer, begging your Honner's parden, and promissing all +dilligence and exsackness, I reste, + +Your Honner's dewtiful sarvant to command, JOSEPH LEMAN. + + + + +LETTER V + +MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. ST. ALBAN'S, MONDAY NIGHT. + + +I snatch a few moments while my beloved is retired, [as I hope, to +rest,] to perform my promise. No pursuit--nor have I apprehensions of +any; though I must make my charmer dread that there will be one. + +And now, let me tell thee, that never was joy so complete as mine!--But +let me inquire, is not the angel flown away? + + +***** + + +O no! She is in the next apartment!--Securely mine!--Mine for ever! + + O ecstasy!--My heart will burst my breast, + To leap into her bosom! + +I knew that the whole stupid family were in a combination to do my +business for me. I told thee that they were all working for me, like so +many ground moles; and still more blind than the moles are said to be, +unknowing that they did so. I myself, the director of their principal +motions; which falling in with the malice of their little hearts, they +took to be all their own. + +But did I say my joy was perfect?--O no!--It receives some abatement +from my disgusted bride. For how can I endure to think that I owe more +to her relations' precautions than to her favour for me?--Or even, as +far as I know, to her preference of me to another man? + +But let me not indulge this thought. Were I to do so, it might cost my +charmer dear. Let me rejoice, that she has passed the rubicon: that she +cannot return: that, as I have ordered it, the flight will appear to the +implacables to be altogether with her own consent: and that if I doubt +her love, I can put her to trials as mortifying to her niceness, as +glorious to my pride.--For, let me tell thee, dearly as I love her, if +I thought there was but the shadow of a doubt in her mind whether she +preferred me to any man living, I would shew her no mercy. + + +TUESDAY, DAY-DAWN. + +But, on the wings of love, I fly to my charmer, who perhaps by this time +is rising to encourage the tardy dawn. I have not slept a wink of the +hour and half I lay down to invite sleep. It seems to me, that I am not +so much body, as to require such a vulgar renovation. + +But why, as in the chariot, as in the inn, at alighting, all +heart-bursting grief, my dearest creature? SO persecuted as thou wert +persecuted!--So much in danger of the most abhorred compulsion!--Yet +grief so unsuspectedly sincere for an escape so critical!--Take care, +take care, O beloved of my soul! for jealous is the heart in which love +has erected a temple to thee. + +Yet, it must be allowed, that such a sudden transition must affect her; +must ice her over. When a little more used to her new situation; when +her hurries are at an end; when she sees how religiously I shall +observe all her INJUNCTIONS; she will undoubtedly have the gratitude +to distinguish between the confinement she has escaped from, and the +liberty she has reason to rejoice in. + +She comes! She comes! And the sun is just rising to attend her! Adieu! +Be half as happy as I am (for all diffidencies, like night-fogs before +the sun, disperse at her approach) and, next myself, thou wilt be the +happiest man in the world. + + + + +LETTER VI + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE WEDNESDAY, APRIL 12. + + +I will pursue my melancholy story. + +Being thus hurried to the chariot, it would have been to no purpose to +have refused entering into it, had he not in my fright lifted me in, as +he did: and it instantly drove away a full gallop, and stopped not till +it brought us to St. Alban's; which was just as the day shut in. + +I thought I should have fainted several times by the way. With uplifted +hands and eyes, God protect me! said I often to myself: Can it be I, +that am here! My eyes running over, and my heart ready to burst with +sighs as involuntarily as my flight. + +How different, how inexpressibly different, the gay wretch; visibly +triumphing (as I could not but construe his almost rapturous joy) in the +success of his arts! But overflowing with complimental flourishes, yet +respectfully distant his address, all the way we flew; for that, rather +than galloping, was the motion of the horses; which took, as I believe, +a round-about way, to prevent being traced. + +I have reason to think, there were other horsemen at his devotion; three +or four different persons, above the rank of the servants, galloping by +us now-and-then, on each side of the chariot: but he took no notice +of them; and I had too much grief, mingled with indignation, +notwithstanding all his blandishments, to ask any questions about them, +or any thing else. + +Think, my dear, what were my thoughts on alighting from the chariot; +having no attendant of my own sex; no clothes but what I had on, and +those little suited to such a journey as I had already taken, and was +still to take: neither hood nor hat, nor any thing but a handkerchief +round my head and shoulders: fatigued to death: my mind still more +fatigued than my body: and in such a foam the horses, that every one in +the inn we put up at guessed [they could not do otherwise] that I was +a young giddy creature, who had run away from her friends. This it was +easy to see, by their whispering and gaping: more of the people of the +house also coming in by turns, than were necessary for the attendance. + +The mistress of the house, whom he sent in to me, showed me another +apartment; and, seeing me ready to faint, brought me hartshorn and water; +and then, upon my desiring to be left alone for half an hour, retired: +for I found my heart ready to burst, on revolving every thing in my +thoughts: and the moment she was gone, fastening the door, I threw +myself into an old great chair, and gave way to a violent flood of +tears, which a little relieved me. + +Mr. Lovelace, sooner than I wished, sent up the gentlewoman, who pressed +me, in his name, to admit my brother, or to come down to him: for he had +told her I was his sister; and that he had brought me, against my will, +and without warning, from a friend's house, where I had been all the +winter, in order to prevent my marrying against the consent of my +friends; to whom he was now conducting me; and that, having given me no +time for a travelling-dress, I was greatly offended at him. + +So, my dear, your frank, your open-hearted friend, was forced to +countenance this tale; which indeed suited me the better, because I was +unable for some time to talk, speak, or look up; and so my dejection, +and grief, and silence, might very well pass before the gentlewoman and +her niece who attended me, as a fit of sullenness. + +The room I was in being a bed-chamber, I chose to go down, at his +repeated message, attended by the mistress of the house, to that in +which he was. He approached me with great respect, yet not exceeding +a brotherly politeness, where a brother is polite; and, calling me his +dearest sister, asked after the state of my mind; and hoped I would +forgive him; for never brother half so well loved a sister, as he me. + +A wretch! how naturally did he fall into the character, although I was +so much out of mine! + +Unthinking creatures have some comfort in the shortness of their views; +in their unapprehensiveness; and that they penetrate not beyond the +present moment: in short that they are unthinking!--But, for a person of +my thoughtful disposition, who has been accustomed to look forward, as +well to the possible, as to the probable, what comfort can I have in my +reflections? + +But let me give you the particulars of our conversation a little before +and after our supper-time, joining both in one. + +When we were alone, he besought me (I cannot say but with all the tokens +of a passionate and respectful tenderness) to be better reconciled to +myself and to him: he repeated all the vows of honour and inviolable +affection that he ever made me: he promised to be wholly governed by me +in every future step. He asked me to give him leave to propose, whether +I chose to set out next day to either of his aunts? + +I was silent. I knew not what to say, nor what to do. + +Whether I chose to have private lodgings procured for me in either of +those ladies' neighbourhood, as were once my thoughts? + +I was still silent. + +Whether I chose to go to either of Lord M.'s seats; that of Berks, or +that in the county we were in? + +In lodgings, I said, any where, where he was not to be. + +He had promised this, he owned; and he would religiously keep to his +word, as soon as he found all danger of pursuit over; and that I was +settled to my mind. But, if the place were indifferent to me, London was +the safest, and the most private: and his relations should all visit +me there, the moment I thought fit to admit them. His cousin Charlotte, +particularly, should attend me, as my companion, if I would accept of +her, as soon as she was able to go abroad. Mean time, would I go to Lady +Betty Lawrance's (Lady Sarah was a melancholy woman)? I should be the +most welcome guest she ever received. + +I told him, I wished not to go (immediately, however, and in the frame +I was in, and not likely to be out of) to any of his relations: that my +reputation was concerned, to have him absent from me: that, if I were in +some private lodging, the meaner the less to be suspected, (as it would +be known, that I went away by his means; and he would be supposed to +have provided me handsome accommodations,) it would be most suitable +both to my mind and to my situation: that this might be best, I should +think, in the country for me; in town for him. And no matter how soon he +was known to be there. + +If he might deliver his opinion, he said, it was, that since I declined +going to any of his relations, London was the only place in the world +to be private in. Every new comer in a country town or village excited a +curiosity: A person of my figure [and many compliments he made me] would +excite more. Even messages and letters, where none used to be brought, +would occasion inquiry. He had not provided a lodging any where, +supposing I would choose to go either to London, where accommodations of +that sort might be fixed upon in an hour's time, or to Lady Betty's; or +to Lord M.'s Herfordshire seat, where was the housekeeper, an excellent +woman, Mrs. Greme, such another as my Norton. + +To be sure, I said, if I were pursued, it would be in their first +passion; and some one of his relations' houses would be the place they +would expect to find me at--I knew not what to do. + +My pleasure should determine him, he said, be it what it would. Only +that I were safe, was all he was solicitous about. He had lodgings in +town; but he did not offer to propose them. He knew, I would have more +objections to go to them, than I could to go to Lord M.'s, or to Lady +Betty's. + +No doubt of it, I replied, with such an indignation in my manner, as +made him run over with professions, that he was far from proposing them, +or wishing for my acceptance of them. And again he repeated, that my +honour and safety were all he was solicitous about; assuring me, that my +will should be a law to him in every particular. + +I was too peevish, and too much afflicted, and indeed too much incensed +against him, to take well any thing he said. + +I thought myself, I said, extremely unhappy. I knew not what to +determine upon: my reputation now, no doubt, utterly ruined: destitute +of clothes: unfit to be seen by any body: my very indigence, as I might +call it, proclaiming my folly to every one who saw me; who would suppose +that I had been taken at advantage, or had given an undue one; and had +no power over either my will or my actions: that I could not but think I +had been dealt artfully with: that he had seemed to have taken, what he +might suppose, the just measure of my weakness, founded on my youth and +inexperience: that I could not forgive myself for meeting him: that my +heart bled for the distresses of my father and mother, on this occasion: +that I would give the world, and all my hopes in it, to have been still +in my father's house, whatever had been my usage: that, let him protest +and vow what he would, I saw something low and selfish in his love, that +he could study to put a young creature upon making such a sacrifice of +her duty and conscience: when a person, actuated by a generous love, +must seek to oblige the object of it, in every thing essential to her +honour, and to her peace of mind. + +He was very attentive to all I said, never offering to interrupt me +once. His answer to every article, almost methodically, shewed his +memory. + +'What I had said, he told me, made him very grave; and he would answer +accordingly. + +'He was grieved at his heart, to find that he had so little share in my +favour or confidence. + +'As to my reputation, (he must be very sincere with me,) that could not +suffer half so much by the step I so regretted to have taken, as by the +confinement, and equally foolish and unjust treatment, I had met with +from my relations: that every mouth was full of blame of them, of my +brother and sister particularly; and of wonder at my patience: that he +must repeat what he had written to me he believed more than once, That +my friends themselves expected that I should take a proper opportunity +to free myself from their persecutions; why else did they confine me? +That my exalted character, as he called it, would still bear me out, +with those who knew me; who knew my brother's and sister's motives; and +who knew the wretch they were for compelling me to have. + +'With regard to clothes; who, as matters were circumstanced, could +expect that I should be able to bring away any others than those I had +on at the time? For present use or wear, all the ladies of his family +would take a pride to supply me: for future, the product of the best +looms, not only in England, but throughout the world, were at my +command. + +'If I wanted money, as no doubt I must, he should be proud to supply me: +Would to heaven, he might presume to hope, there were but one interest +between us!' + +And then he would fain have had me to accept of a bank note of a hundred +pounds; which, unawares to me, he put into my hand: but which, you may +be sure, I refused with warmth. + +'He was inexpressibly grieved and surprised, he said, to hear me say +he had acted artfully by me. He came provided, according to my confirmed +appointment,' [a wretch to upbraid me thus!] 'to redeem me from my +persecutors; and little expected a change of sentiment, and that he +should have so much difficulty to prevail upon me, as he had met with: +that perhaps I might think his offer to go into the garden with me, and +to face my assembled relations, was a piece of art only: but that if I +did, I wronged him: since to this hour, seeing my excessive uneasiness, +he wished, with all his soul he had been permitted to accompany me in. +It was always his maxim to brave a threatened danger. Threateners, where +they have an opportunity to put in force their threats, were seldom +to be feared. But had he been assured of a private stab, or of as many +death's wounds as there were persons in my family, (made desperate as +he should have been by my return,) he would have attended me into the +house.' + +So, my dear, what I have to do, is to hold myself inexcusable for +meeting such a determined and audacious spirit; that's all! I have +hardly any question now, but that he would have contrived some wicked +stratagem or other to have got me away, had I met him at a midnight +hour, as once or twice I had thoughts to do; and that would have been +more terrible still. + +He concluded this part of his talk, with saying, 'That he doubted not +but that, had he attended me in, he should have come off in every +one's opinion well, that he should have had general leave to renew his +visits.' + +He went on--'He must be so bold as to tell me, that he should have paid +a visit of this kind, (but indeed accompanied by several of his trusty +friends,) had I not met him; and that very afternoon too; for he could +not tamely let the dreadful Wednesday come, without making some effort +to change their determinations.' + +What, my dear, was to be done with such a man! + +'That therefore for my sake, as well as for his own, he had reason to +wish that a disease so desperate had been attempted to be overcome by as +desperate a remedy. We all know, said he, that great ends are sometimes +brought about by the very means by which they are endeavoured to be +frustrated.' + +My present situation, I am sure, thought I, affords a sad evidence of +this truth! + +I was silent all this time. My blame was indeed turned inward. +Sometimes, too, I was half-frighted at his audaciousness: at others, had +the less inclination to interrupt him, being excessively fatigued, and +my spirits sunk to nothing, with a view even of the best prospects with +such a man. + +This gave his opportunity to proceed: and that he did; assuming a still +more serious air. + +'As to what further remained for him to say, in answer to what I had +said, he hoped I would pardon him; but, upon his soul, he was concerned, +infinitely concerned, he repeated, (his colour and his voice rising,) +that it was necessary for him to observe, how much I chose rather to +have run the risque of being Solmes's wife, than to have it in my power +to reward a man who, I must forgive him, had been as much insulted on my +account, as I had been on his--who had watched my commands, and (pardon +me, Madam) ever changeable motion of your pen, all hours, in all +weathers, and with a cheerfulness and ardour, that nothing but the most +faithful and obsequious passion could inspire.' + +I now, my dear, began to revive into a little more warmth of +attention.-- + +'And all, Madam, for what?'--How I stared! for he stopt then a moment +or two--'Only,' went he on, 'to prevail upon you to free yourself from +ungenerous and base oppressions'-- + +Sir, Sir, indignantly said I-- + +'Hear me but out, dearest Madam!--My heart is full--I must speak what +I have to say--To be told (for your words are yet in my ears, and at my +heart!) that you would give the world, and all your hopes in it, to have +been still in your cruel and gloomy father's house'-- + +Not a word, Sir, against my father!--I will not bear that-- + +'Whatever had been your usage:--and you have a credulity, Madam, against +all probability, if you believe you should have avoided being +Solmes's wife: That I have put you upon sacrificing your duty and +conscience--yet, dearest creature! see you not the contradiction that +your warmth of temper has surprised you into, when the reluctance +you shewed to the last to leave your persecutors, has cleared your +conscience from the least reproach of this sort?'-- + +O Sir! Sir! are you so critical then? Are you so light in your anger as +to dwell upon words?-- + +Indeed, my dear, I have since thought that his anger was not owing to +that sudden impetus, which cannot be easily bridled; but rather was a +sort of manageable anger let loose to intimidate me. + +'Forgive me, Madam--I have just done--Have I not, in your opinion, +hazarded my life to redeem you from oppression? Yet is not my reward, +after all, precarious?--For, Madam, have you not conditioned with me +(and, hard as the condition is, most sacredly will I observe it) that +all my hope must be remote? That you are determined to have it in your +power to favour or reject me totally, as you please?' + +See, my dear! in every respect my condition changed for the worse! Is it +in my power to take your advice, if I should think it ever so right to +take it?* + + + * Clarissa had been censured as behaving to Mr. Lovelace, in their first +conversation at St. Alban's, and afterwards, with too much reserve, and +even with haughtiness. Surely those, who have thought her to blame on +this account, have not paid a due attention to the story. How early, as +above, and in what immediately follows, does he remind her of the terms +of distance which she had prescribed to him, before she was in his +power, in hopes to leave the door open for a reconciliation with +her friends, which her heart was set upon? And how artfully does he +(unrequired) promise to observe the conditions in which she in her +present circumstances and situation (in pursuance of Miss Howe's advice) +would gladly have dispensed with?--To say nothing of the resentment she +was under a necessity to shew, at the manner of his getting her away, in +order to justify to him the sincerity of her refusal to go off with him. +See, in her subsequent Letter to Miss Howe, No. IX., her own sense upon +the subject. + + +'And have you not furthermore declared,' proceeded he 'that you will +engage to renounce me for ever, if your friends insist upon that cruel +renunciation, as the terms of being reconciled to you? + +'But nevertheless, Madam, all the merit of having saved you from an +odious compulsion, shall be mine. I glory in it, though I were to lose +you for ever. As I see I am but too likely to do, from your present +displeasure; and especially, if your friends insist upon the terms you +are ready to comply with. + +'That you are your own mistress, through my means, is, I repeat, my +boast. As such, I humbly implore your favour, and that only upon the +conditions I have yielded to hope for it. As I do now, thus humbly, +[the proud wretch falling on one knee,] your forgiveness, for so long +detaining your ear, and for all the plain dealing that my undesigning +heart would not be denied to utter by my lips.' + +O Sir, pray rise! Let the obliged kneel, if one of us must kneel! But, +nevertheless, proceed not in this strain, I beseech you. You have had +a great deal of trouble about me: but had you let me know in time, that +you expected to be rewarded for it at the price of my duty, I should +have spared you much of it. + +Far be it from me, Sir, to depreciate merit so extraordinary. But let me +say, that had it not been for the forbidden correspondence I was teased +by you into; and which I had not continued (every letter, for many +letters, intended to be the last) but because I thought you a sufferer +from my friends; I had not been either confined or ill treated: nor +would my brother's low-meant violence have had a foundation to work +upon. + +I am far from thinking my case would have been so very desperate as you +imagine had I staid. My father loved me in his heart: he would not see +me before; and I wanted only to see him, and to be heard; and a delay +of his sentence was the least thing I expected from the trial I was to +stand. + +You are boasting of your merits, Sir: let merit be your boast; nothing +else can attract me. If personal considerations had principal weight +with me, either in Solmes's disfavour, or in your favour, I shall +despise myself: if you value yourself upon them, in preference to the +person of the poor Solmes, I shall despise you! + +You may glory in your fancied merits in getting me away: but the cause +of your glory, I tell you plainly, is my shame. + +Make to yourself a title to my regard, which I can better approve of; or +else you will not have so much merit with me, as you have with yourself. + +But here, Sir, like the first pair, (I, at least, driven out of my +paradise,) are we recriminating. No more shall you need to tell me of +your sufferings, and your merits! your all hours, and all weathers! For +I will bear them in memory as long as I live; and if it be impossible +for me to reward them, be ever ready to own the obligation. All that +I desire of you now is, to leave it to myself to seek for some private +abode: to take the chariot with you to London, or elsewhere: and, if +I have any further occasion for your assistance and protection, I will +signify it to you, and be still further obliged to you. + +You are warm, my dearest life!--But indeed there is no occasion for it. +Had I any views unworthy of my faithful love for you, I should not have +been so honest in my declarations. + +Then he began again to vow the sincerity of his intentions-- + +But I took him up short: I am willing to believe you, Sir. It would +be insupportable but to suppose there were a necessity for such solemn +declarations. [At this he seemed to collect himself, as I may say, into +a little more circumspection.] If I thought there were, I would not sit +with you here, in a public inn, I assure you, although cheated hither, +as far as I know, by methods (you must excuse me, Sir) which, but +to suspect, will hardly let me have patience either with you or with +myself--but no more of this, just now: Let me, I beseech you, good Sir, +bowing [I was very angry!] let me only know whether you intend to leave +me; or whether I have only escaped from one confinement to another? + +Cheated hither, as far as I know, Madam! Let you know (and with that +air, too, charming, though grievous to my heart!) if you have only +escaped from one confinement to another--amazing! perfectly amazing! And +can there be a necessity for me to answer this? You are absolutely your +own mistress--it was very strange, if you were not. The moment you are +in a place of safety, I will leave you. To one condition only, give me +leave to beg your consent: it is this, that you will be pleased, now you +are so entirely in your own power, to renew a promise voluntarily made +before; voluntarily, or I would not now presume to request it; for +although I would not be thought capable of growing upon concession, yet +I cannot bear to think of losing the ground your goodness had given +me room to hope I had gained; 'That, make up how you please with your +relations, you will never marry any other man, while I am living and +single, unless I should be so wicked as to give new cause for high +displeasure.' + +I hesitate not to confirm this promise, Sir, upon your own condition. In +what manner do you expect to confirm it? + +Only, Madam, by your word. + +Then I never will. + +He had the assurance (I was now in his power) to salute me as a sealing +of my promise, as he called it. His motion was so sudden, that I was not +aware of it. It would have looked affected to be very angry; yet I could +not be pleased, considering this as a leading freedom, from a spirit so +audacious and encroaching: and he might see, that I was not. + +He passed all that by with an air peculiar to himself--Enough, enough, +dearest Madam! And now let me beg of you but to conquer this dreadful +uneasiness, which gives me to apprehend too much for my jealous love to +bear; and it shall be my whole endeavour to deserve your favour, and to +make you the happiest woman in the world; as I shall be the happiest of +men. + +I broke from him to write to you my preceding letter; but refused to +send it by his servant, as I told you. The mistress of the house helped +me to a messenger, who was to carry what you should give him to Lord +M.'s seat in Hertfordshire, directed for Mrs. Greme, the housekeeper +there. And early in the morning, for fear of pursuit, we were to set +out that way: and there he proposed to change the chariot and six for a +chaise and pair of his own, which he had at that seat, as it would be a +less-noticed conveyance. + +I looked over my little stock of money; and found it to be no more +than seven guineas and some silver: the rest of my stock was but fifty +guineas, and that five more than I thought it was, when my sister +challenged me as to the sum I had by me:* and those I left in my +escritoire, little intending to go away with him. + + + * See Vol. I. Letter XLIII. + + +Indeed my case abounds with a shocking number of indelicate +circumstances. Among the rest, I was forced to account to him, who knew +I could have no clothes but what I had on, how I came to have linen with +me (for he could not but know I sent for it); lest he should imagine +I had an early design to go away with him, and made that part of the +preparation. + +He most heartily wished, he said, for my mind's sake, that your mother +would have afforded me her protection; and delivered himself upon this +subject with equal freedom and concern. + +There are, my dear Miss Howe, a multitude of punctilios and decorums, +which a young creature must dispense with, who, in a situation like +mine, makes a man the intimate attendant of her person. I could now, +I think, give twenty reasons stronger than any I have heretofore +mentioned, why women of the least delicacy should never think of +incurring the danger and the disgrace of taking the step I have been +drawn in to take, but with horror and aversion; and why they should look +upon the man who should tempt them to it, as the vilest and most selfish +of seducers. + + +***** + + +Before five o'clock (Tuesday morning) the maidservant came up to tell me +that my brother was ready, and that breakfast also waited for me in +the parlour. I went down with a heart as heavy as my eyes, and received +great acknowledgements and compliments from him on being so soon +dressed, and ready (as he interpreted it) to continue on our journey. + +He had the thought which I had not (for what had I to do with thinking, who +had it not when I stood most in need of it?) to purchase for me a velvet +hood, and a short cloke, trimmed with silver, without saying any thing +to me. He must reward himself, the artful encroacher said, before the +landlady and her maids and niece, for his forethought; and would salute +his pretty sullen sister!--He took his reward; and, as he said before, +a tear with it. While he assured me, still before them [a vile wretch!] +that I had nothing to fear from meeting with parents who so dearly loved +me.-- + +How could I be complaisant, my dear, to such a man as this? + +When we had got in the chariot, and it began to move, he asked me, +whether I had any objection to go to Lord M.'s Hertfordshire seat? His +Lordship, he said, was at his Berkshire one. + +I told him, I chose not to go, as yet, to any of his relations; for that +would indicate a plain defiance to my own. My choice was, to go to a +private lodging, and for him to be at a distance from me: at least, till +I heard how things were taken by my friends: for that, although I had +but little hopes of a reconciliation as it was; yet if they knew I was +in his protection, or in that of any of his friends, (which would be +looked upon as the same thing,) there would not be room for any hopes at +all. + +I should govern him as I pleased, he solemnly assured me, in every +thing. But he still thought London was the best place for me; and if I +were once safe there, and in a lodging to my liking, he would go to M. +Hall. But, as I approved not of London, he would urge it no further. + +He proposed, and I consented, to put up at an inn in the neighbourhood +of The Lawn (as he called Lord M.'s seat in this county) since I chose +not to go thither. And here I got two hours to myself; which I told him +I should pass in writing another letter to you, (meaning my narrative, +which, though greatly fatigued, I had begun at St. Alban's,) and in one +to my sister, to apprise the family (whether they were solicitous about +it or not) that I was well; and to beg that my clothes, some particular +books, and the fifty guineas I had left in my escritoire, might be sent +me. + +He asked, if I had considered whither to have them directed? + +Indeed, not I, I told him: I was a stranger to-- + +So was he, he interrupted me; but it struck him by chance-- + +Wicked story-teller! + +But, added he, I will tell you, Madam, how it shall be managed--If +you don't choose to go to London, it is, nevertheless, best that your +relations should think you there; for then they will absolutely despair +of finding you. If you write, be pleased to direct, to be left for you, +at Mr. Osgood's, near Soho-square. Mr. Osgood is a man of reputation: +and this will effectually amuse them. + +Amuse them, my dear!--Amuse whom?--My father!--my uncles!--But it must +be so!----All his expedients ready, you see! + +I had no objection to this: and I have written accordingly. But what +answer I shall have, or whether any, that is what gives me no small +anxiety. + +This, however, is one consolation, that if I have an answer, and +although my brother should be the writer, it cannot be more severe than +the treatment I have of late received from him and my sister. + +Mr. Lovelace staid out about an hour and half; and then came in; +impatiently sending up to me no less than four times, to desire +admittance. But I sent him word as often, that I was busy; and at last, +that I should be so, till dinner was ready. He then hastened that, as I +heard him now-and-then, with a hearty curse upon the cook and waiters. + +This is another of his perfections. I ventured afterwards to check him +for his free words, as we sat at dinner. + +Having heard him swear at his servant, when below, whom, nevertheless, +he owns to be a good one; it is a sad life, said I, these innkeepers +live, Mr. Lovelace. + +No; pretty well, I believe--but why, Madam, think you, that fellows, who +eat and drink at other men's cost, or they are sorry innkeepers, should +be entitled to pity? + +Because of the soldiers they are obliged to quarter; who are generally, +I believe, wretched profligates. Bless me! said I, how I heard one of +them swear and curse, just now, at a modest, meek man, as I judge by his +low voice, and gentle answers!--Well do they make it a proverb--Like a +trooper! + +He bit his lip; arose; turned upon his heel; stept to the glass; and +looking confidently abashed, if I may say so, Ay, Madam, said he, +these troopers are sad swearing fellows. I think their officers should +chastise them for it. + +I am sure they deserve chastisement, replied I: for swearing is a most +unmanly vice, and cursing as poor and low a one; since they proclaim the +profligate's want of power, and his wickedness at the same time; for, +could such a one punish as he speaks, he would be a fiend! + +Charmingly observed, by my soul, Madam!--The next trooper I hear swear +and curse, I'll tell him what an unmanly, and what a poor wretch he is. + +Mrs. Greme came to pay her duty to me, as Mr. Lovelace called it; and +was very urgent with me to go to her lord's house; letting me know what +handsome things she had heard of her lord, and his two nieces, and all +the family, say of me; and what wishes for several months past they had +put up for the honour she now hoped would soon be done them all. + +This gave me some satisfaction, as it confirmed from the mouth of a very +good sort of woman all that Mr. Lovelace had told me. + +Upon inquiry about a private lodging, she recommended me to a +sister-in-law of hers, eight miles from thence--where I now am. And what +pleased me the better, was, that Mr. Lovelace (of whom I could see she +was infinitely observant) obliged her, of his own motion, to accompany +me in the chaise; himself riding on horseback, with his two servants, +and one of Lord M.'s. And here we arrived about four o'clock. + +But, as I told you in my former, the lodgings are inconvenient. Mr. +Lovelace indeed found great fault with them: and told Mrs. Greme (who +had said, that they were not worthy of us) that they came not up even to +her own account of them. As the house was a mile from a town, it was not +proper for him, he said, to be so far distant from me, lest any thing +should happen: and yet the apartments were not separate and distinct +enough for me to like them, he was sure. + +This must be agreeable enough for him, you will believe. + +Mrs. Greme and I had a good deal of talk in the chaise about him: she +was very easy and free in her answers to all I asked; and has, I find, a +very serious turn. + +I led her on to say to the following effect; some part of it not unlike +what Lord M.'s dismissed bailiff had said before; by which I find that +all the servants have a like opinion of him. + +'That Mr. Lovelace was a generous man: that it was hard to say, whether +the servants of her lord's family loved or feared him most: that her +lord had a very great affection for him: that his two noble aunts were +not less fond of him: that his cousins Montague were as good natured +young ladies as ever lived: that Lord M. and Lady Sarah, and Lady Betty +had proposed several ladies to him, before he made his addresses to me: +and even since; despairing to move me and my friends in his favour.--But +that he had no thoughts of marrying at all, she had heard him say, if it +were not to me: that as well her lord as the two ladies his sisters were +a good deal concerned at the ill-usage he received from my family: but +admired my character, and wished to have him married to me (although I +were not to have a shilling) in preference to any other person, from the +opinion they had of the influence I should have over him. That, to be +sure, Mr. Lovelace was a wild gentleman: but wildness was a distemper +which would cure itself. That her lord delighted in his company, +whenever he could get it: but that they often fell out; and his lordship +was always forced to submit--indeed, was half afraid of him, she +believed; for Mr. Lovelace would do as he pleased. She mingled a +thousand pities often, that he acted not up to the talents lent him--yet +would have it, that he had fine qualities to found a reformation upon: +and, when the happy day came, would make amends for all: and of this all +his friends were so assured, that they wished for nothing so earnestly, +as for his marriage.' + +This, indifferent as it is, is better than my brother says of him. + +The people of the house here are very honest-looking industrious folks: +Mrs. Sorlings is the gentlewoman's name. The farm seems well stocked, +and thriving. She is a widow; has two sons, men grown, who vie with each +other which shall take most pains in promoting the common good; and they +are both of them, I already see, more respectful to two modest young +women their sisters, than my brother was to his sister. + +I believe I must stay here longer than at first I thought I should. + +I ought to have mentioned, that, before I set out for this place, I +received your kind letter.* Every thing is kind from so dear a friend. + + + * See Vol. II. Letter XLVII. + + +I own, that after I had told you of my absolute determination not to go +away with him, you might well be surprised, at your first hearing that +I was actually gone. The Lord bless me, my dear, I myself, at times, can +hardly believe it is I, that have been led to take so strange a step. + +I have not the better opinion of Mr. Lovelace for his extravagant +volubility. He is too full of professions. He says too many fine things +of me, and to me. True respect, true value, I think, lies not in words: +words cannot express it: the silent awe, the humble, the doubting eye, +and even the hesitating voice, better shew it by much, than, as our +beloved Shakespeare says, + + ----The rattling tongue + Of saucy and audacious eloquence. + +The man indeed at times is all upon the ecstatic; one of his phrases. +But, to my shame and confusion, I must say, that I know too well to what +to attribute his transports. In one word, it is to his triumph, my +dear. And, to impute it to that perhaps equally exposes my vanity, and +condemns my folly. + +We have been alarmed with notions of a pursuit, founded upon a letter +from his intelligencer. + +How do different circumstances either sanctify or condemn the same +action!--What care ought we to take not to confound the distinctions of +right and wrong, when self comes in the question!--I condemned in Mr. +Lovelace the corrupting of a servant of my father's; and now I am glad +to give a kind of indirect approbation of that fault, by inquiring of +him what he hears, by that or any other way, of the manner in which my +relations took my flight. A preconcerted, forward, and artful flight, it +must undoubtedly appear to them. How grievous is that to think of! yet +how, as long as I am situated, can I put them right? + +Most heavily, he says, they take it; but shew not so much grief as rage. +And he can hardly have patience to hear of the virulence and menaces +of my brother against himself. Then a merit is made to me of his +forbearance. + +What a satisfaction am I robbed of, my dearest friend, when I reflect +upon my inconsiderateness! O that I had it still in my power to say I +suffered wrong, rather than did wrong! That others were more wanting in +their kindness to me than I duty (where duty is owing) to them. + +Fie upon me! for meeting the seducer!--Let all end as happily as it now +may, I have laid up for myself remorse for my whole life. + +What still more concerns me is, that every time I see this man, I am +still at a greater loss than before what to make of him. I watch every +turn of his countenance: and I think I see very deep lines in it. He +looks with more meaning, I verily think, than he used to look; yet not +more serious; not less gay--I don't know how he looks--but with more +confidence a great deal than formerly; and yet he never wanted that. + +But here is the thing; I behold him with fear now, as conscious of the +power my indiscretion has given him over me. And well may he look more +elate, when he sees me deprived of all the self-supposed significance, +which adorns and exalts a person who has been accustomed to respect; and +who now, by a conscious inferiority, allows herself to be overcome, +and in a state of obligation, as I may say, to a man who from a humble +suitor to her for her favour, assumes the consequence and airs of a +protector. + +I shall send this, as my former, by a poor man, who travels every day +with pedlary matters. He will leave it at Mrs. Knolly's, as you direct. + +If you hear any thing of my father and mother, and of their health, and +how my friends were affected by my unhappy step, pray be so good as to +write me a few lines by the messenger, if his waiting for them can be +known to you. + +I am afraid to ask you, Whether, upon reading that part of my narrative +already in your hands, you think any sort of extenuation lies for + +Your unhappy CLARISSA HARLOWE? + + + + +LETTER VII + +MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. TUESDAY, WEDN. APRIL 11, 12. + + +You claim my promise, that I will be as particular as possible, in +all that passes between me and my goddess. Indeed, I never had a more +illustrious subject to exercise my pen. And, moreover, I have leisure; +for by her good will, my access would be as difficult to her, as that of +the humblest slave to an Eastern monarch. Nothing, then, but inclination +to write can be wanting; and since our friendship, and your obliging +attendance upon me at the White Hart, will not excuse that, I will +endeavour to keep my word. + +I parted with thee and thy brethren, with a full resolution, thou +knowest, to rejoin ye, if she once again disappointed me, in order to go +together (attended by our servants, for shew sake) to the gloomy father; +and demand audience of the tyrant upon the freedoms taken with my +character. In short, to have tried by fair resolutions, and treat his +charming daughter with less inhumanity, and me with more civility. + +I told thee my reasons for not going in search of a letter of +countermand. I was right; for if I had, I should have found such a one; +and had I received it, she would not have met me. Did she think, that +after I had been more than once disappointed, I would not keep her to +her promise; that I would not hold her to it, when I had got her in so +deeply? + +The moment I heard the door unbolt, I was sure of her. That motion +made my heart bound to my throat. But when that was followed with the +presence of my charmer, flashing upon me all at once in a flood of +brightness, sweetly dressed, though all unprepared for a journey, I trod +air, and hardly thought myself a mortal. + +Thou shalt judge of her dress, as at the moment I first beheld her she +appeared to me, and as, upon a nearer observation, she really was. I am +a critic, thou knowest, in women's dresses. Many a one have I taught +to dress, and helped to undress. But there is such a native elegance in +this lady, that she surpasses all that I could imagine surpassing. But +then her person adorns what she wears, more than dress can adorn her; +and that's her excellence. + +Expect therefore a faint sketch of her admirable person with her dress. + +Her wax-like flesh (for after all, flesh and blood I think she is) by +its delicacy and firmness, answers for the soundness of her health. Thou +hast often heard me launch out in praise of her complexion. I never in +my life beheld a skins so illustriously fair. The lily and the driven +snow it is nonsense to talk of: her lawn and her laces one might indeed +compare to those; but what a whited wall would a woman appear to be, +who had a complexion which would justify such unnatural comparisons? But +this lady is all glowing, all charming flesh and blood; yet so clear, +that every meandring vein is to be seen in all the lovely parts of her +which custom permits to be visible. + +Thou has heard me also describe the wavy ringlets of her shining hair, +needing neither art nor powder; of itself an ornament, defying all +other ornaments; wantoning in and about a neck that is beautiful beyond +description. + +Her head-dress was a Brussels-lace mob, peculiarly adapted to the +charming air and turn of her features. A sky-blue ribband illustrated +that. But although the weather was somewhat sharp, she had not on either +hat or hood; for, besides that she loves to use herself hardily (by +which means and by a temperance truly exemplary, she is allowed to have +given high health and vigour to an originally tender constitution) she +seems to have intended to shew me, that she was determined not to stand +to her appointment. O Jack! that such a sweet girl should be a rogue! + +Her morning gown was a pale primrose-coloured paduasoy: the cuffs +and robins curiously embroidered by the fingers of this ever-charming +Arachne, in a running pattern of violets and their leaves, the light in +the flowers silver, gold in the leaves. A pair of diamond snaps in +her ears. A white handkerchief wrought by the same inimitable fingers +concealed--O Belford! what still more inimitable beauties did it not +conceal!--And I saw, all the way we rode, the bounding heart (by its +throbbing motions I saw it!) dancing beneath her charming umbrage. + +Her ruffles were the same as her mob. Her apron a flowered lawn. Her +coat white sattin, quilted: blue sattin her shoes, braided with the same +colour, without lace; for what need has the prettiest foot in the world +of ornament? neat buckles in them: and on her charming arms a pair of +black velvet glove-like muffs of her own invention; for she makes and +gives fashions as she pleases.--Her hands velvet of themselves, thus +uncovered the freer to be grasped by those of her adorer. + +I have told thee what were my transports, when the undrawn bolt +presented to me my long-expected goddess. Her emotions were more sweetly +feminine, after the first moments; for then the fire of her starry eyes +began to sink into a less dazzling languor. She trembled: nor knew +she how to support the agitations of a heart she had never found so +ungovernable. She was even fainting, when I clasped her in my supporting +arms. What a precious moment that! How near, how sweetly near, the +throbbing partners! + +By her dress, I saw, as I observed before, how unprepared she was for +a journey; and not doubting her intention once more to disappoint me, I +would have drawn her after me. Then began a contention the most vehement +that ever I had with woman. It would pain thy friendly heart to be told +the infinite trouble I had with her. I begged, I prayed; on my knees, +yet in vain, I begged and prayed her to answer her own appointment: and +had I not happily provided for such a struggle, knowing whom I had to +deal with, I had certainly failed in my design; and as certainly would +have accompanied her in, without thee and thy brethren: and who knows +what might have been the consequence? + +But my honest agent answering my signal, though not quite so soon as I +expected, in the manner thou knowest I had prescribed, They are coming! +They are coming!--Fly, fly, my beloved creature, cried I, drawing my +sword with a flourish, as if I would have slain half an hundred of the +supposed intruders; and, seizing her trembling hands, I drew her after +me so swiftly, that my feet, winged by love, could hardly keep pace with +her feet, agitated by fear.--And so I became her emperor. + +I'll tell thee all, when I see thee: and thou shalt then judge of my +difficulties, and of her perverseness. And thou wilt rejoice with me at +my conquest over such a watchful and open-eyed charmer. + +But seest thou not now (as I think I do) the wind outstripping fair one +flying from her love to her love? Is there not such a game?--Nay, flying +from her friends she was resolved not to abandon, to the man she was +determined not to go off with?--The sex! the sex, all over!--Charming +contradiction!--Hah, hah, hah, hah!--I must here--I must here, lay down +my pen, to hold my sides; for I must have my laugh out now the fit is +upon me. + + +***** + + +I believe--I believe--Hah, hah, hah! I believe, Jack, my dogs conclude +me mad: for here has one of them popt in, as if to see what ailed me, or +whom I had with me. Hah, hah, hah! An impudent dog! O Jack, knewest thou +my conceit, and were but thy laugh joined to mine, I believe it would +hold me for an hour longer. + +But, O my best beloved fair one, repine not thou at the arts by which +thou suspectest thy fruitless vigilence has been over watched. Take +care, that thou provokest not new ones, that may be still more worthy +of thee. If once thy emperor decrees thy fall, thou shalt greatly fall. +Thou shalt have cause, if that come to pass, which may come to pass (for +why wouldst thou put off marriage to so long a day, as till thou hadst +reason to be convinced of my reformation, dearest?) thou shalt have +cause, never fear, to sit down more dissatisfied with the stars, than +with thyself. And come the worst to the worst, glorious terms will I +give thee. Thy garrison, with general Prudence at the head, and governor +Watchfulness bringing up the rear, shall be allowed to march out with +all the honours due to so brave a resistance. And all thy sex, and all +mine, that hear of my stratagems, and of thy conduct, shall acknowledge +the fortress as nobly won as defended. + +'Thou wilt not dare, methinks I hear thee say, to attempt to reduce such +a goddess as this, to a standard unworthy of her excellencies. It is +impossible, Lovelace, that thou shouldst intent to break through oaths +and protestations so solemn.' + +That I did not intend it, is certain. That I do intend it, I cannot (my +heart, my reverence for her, will not let me) say. But knowest thou not +my aversion to the state of shackles?--And is she not IN MY POWER? + +'And wilt thou, Lovelace, abuse that power which--' + +Which what, Belford? Which I obtained not by her own consent, but +against it. + +'But which thou never hadst obtained, had she not esteemed thee above +all men.' + +And which I had never taken so much pains to obtain, had I not loved her +above all women. So far upon a par, Jack! and if thou pleadest honour, +ought not honour to be mutual? If mutual, does it not imply mutual +trust, mutual confidence? And what have I had of that from her to boast +of?--Thou knowest the whole progress of our warfare: for a warfare it +has truly been; and far, very far, from an amorous warfare too. Doubts, +mistrusts, upbraidings, on her part; humiliations the most abject, on +mine. Obliged to assume such airs of reformation, that every varlet of +ye has been afraid I should reclaim in good earnest. And hast thou not +thyself frequently observed to me, how awkwardly I returned to my usual +gayety, after I had been within a mile of her father's garden-wall, +although I had not seen her? + +Does she not deserve to pay for all this?--To make an honest fellow look +like an hypocrite, what a vile thing is that! + +Then thou knowest what a false little rogue she has been. How little +conscience she has made of disappointing me. Hast thou not been a +witness of my ravings on this score? Have I not, in the height of them, +vowed revenge upon the faithless charmer? And if I must be forsworn, +whether I answer her expectations, or follow my own inclinations; and if +the option be in my own power, can I hesitate a moment which to choose? + +Then, I fancy by her circumspection, and her continual grief, that she +expects some mischief from me. I don't care to disappoint any body I +have a value for. + +But O the noble, the exalted creature! Who can avoid hesitating when he +thinks of an offence against her? Who can but pity-- + +Yet, on the other hand, so loth at last to venture, though threatened +to be forced into the nuptial fetters with a man, whom to look upon as +a rival, is to disgrace myself!--So sullen, now she has ventured!--What +title has she to pity; and to a pity which her pride would make her +disclaim? + +But I resolve not any way. I will see how her will works; and how my +will leads me on. I will give the combatants fair play, and yet, every +time I attend her, I find that she is less in my power; I more in hers. + +Yet, a foolish little rogue! to forbid me to think of marriage till I am +a reformed man! Till the implacables of her family change their natures, +and become placable! + +It is true, when she was for making those conditions, she did not think, +that without any, she should be cheated out of herself; for so the dear +soul, as I may tell thee in its place, phrases it. + +How it swells my pride, to have been able to outwit such a vigilant +charmer! I am taller by half a yard in my imagination than I was. I look +down upon every body now. Last night I was still more extravagant. I +took off my hat, as I walked, to see if the lace were not scorched, +supposing it had brushed down a star; and, before I put it on again, in +mere wantonness and heart's ease, I was for buffeting the moon. + +In short, my whole soul is joy. When I go to bed I laugh myself asleep; +and I awake either laughing or singing--yet nothing nearly in view, +neither--For why?--I am not yet reformed enough! + +I told thee at the time, if thou rememberest, how capable this +restriction was of being turned upon the over-scrupulous dear creature, +could I once get her out of her father's house; and were I disposed to +punish her for her family's faults, and for the infinite trouble she +herself had given me. Little thinks she, that I have kept an account of +both: and that, when my heart is soft, and all her own, I can but turn +to my memoranda, and harden myself at once. + +O my charmer, look to it! Abate of thy haughty airs! Value not thyself +upon thy sincerity, if thou art indifferent to me! I will not bear it +now. Art thou not in my POWER!--Nor, if thou lovest me, think, that +the female affectation of denying thy love, will avail thee now, with a +heart so proud and so jealous as mine?--Remember, moreover, that all thy +family sins are upon thy head--! + +But ah! Jack, when I see my angel, when I am admitted to the presence of +this radiant beauty, what will become of all this vapouring? + +But, be my end what it may, I am obliged, by thy penetration, fair one, +to proceed by the sap. Fair and softly. A wife at any time! Marriage +will be always in my power. + +When put to the university, the same course of initial studies will +qualify the yonker for the one line or the other. The genius ought to +point out the future lawyer, divine, or physician!--So the same cautious +conduct, with such a vigilance, will do either for the wife, or for the +no-wife. When I reform, I'll marry. 'Tis time enough for the one, the +lady must say--for the other, say I! + +But how I ramble!--This is to be in such a situation, that I know not +what to resolve upon. + +I'll tell thee my inclinings, as I proceed. The pro's and the con's I'll +tell thee: but being got too far from the track I set out in, I will +close here. I may, however, write every day something, and send it as +opportunity offers. + +Regardless, nevertheless, I shall be in all I write, of connection, +accuracy, or of any thing but of my own imperial will and pleasure. + + + + +LETTER VIII + +MISS HOWE, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE WEDNESDAY NIGHT, APRIL 12. + + +I have your narrative, my dear. You are the same noble creature you +ever were. Above disguise, above art, above attempting to extenuate a +failing. + +The only family in the world, yours, surely, that could have driven such +a daughter upon such extremities. + +But you must not be so very much too good for them, and for the case. + +You lay the blame so properly and so unsparingly upon your meeting him, +that nothing can be added to that subject by your worst enemies, were +they to see what you have written. + +I am not surprised, now I have read your narrative, that so bold and so +contriving a man--I am forced to break off---- + + +***** + + +You stood it out much better and longer--Here again comes my bustling, +jealous mother! + + +***** + + +Don't be angry at yourself. Did you not do for the best at the time? As +to your first fault, the answering his letters; it was always incumbent +upon you to assume the guardianship of such a family, when the bravo of +it had run riot, as he did, and brought himself into danger. + +Except your mother, who has no will of her own, have any of them common +sense? + +Forgive me, my dear--Here is that stupid uncle Antony of yours. A +pragmatical, conceited positive.--He came yesterday, in a fearful +pucker, and puffed, and blowed, and stumped about our hall and parlour, +while his message was carried up. + +My mother was dressing. These widows are as starched as the old +bachelors. She would not see him in a dishabille for the world--What can +she mean by it? + +His errand was to set her against you, and to shew her their determined +rage on your going away. The issue proved too evidently that this was +the principal end of his visit. + +The odd creature desired to speak with her alone. I am not used to such +exceptions whenever any visits are made to my mother. + +When she was primed out, down she came to him. They locked themselves +in. The two positive heads were put together--close together I suppose; +for I listened, but could hear nothing distinctly, though they both +seemed full of their subject. + +I had a good mind, once or twice, to have made them open the door. +Could I have been sure of keeping but tolerably my temper, I would have +demanded admittance. But I was afraid, if I had obtained it, that I +should have forgot it was my mother's house, and been for turning +him out of it. To come to rave against and abuse my dearest, dearest, +faultless friend! and the ravings to be encouraged, and perhaps joined +in, in order to justify themselves; the one for contributing to drive +that dear friend out of her father's house; the other for refusing her +a temporary asylum, till the reconciliation could have been effected, +which her dutiful heart was set upon; and which it would have become +the love which my mother had ever pretended for you, to have mediated +for--Could I have had patience! + +The issue, as I said, shewed what the errand was--Its fusty appearance, +after the old fusty fellow was marched off, [you must excuse me, my +dear,] was in a kind of gloomy, Harlowe-like reservedness in my mother; +which upon a few resenting flirts of mine, was followed by a rigorous +prohibition of correspondence. + +This put us, you may suppose, upon terms not the most agreeable, I +desired to know, if I were prohibited dreaming of you?--For, my dear, +you have all my sleeping as well as waking hours. + +I can easily allow for your correspondence with your wretch at first +(and yet your notions were excellent) by the effect this prohibition has +upon me; since, if possible, it has made me love you better than before; +and I am more desirous than ever of corresponding with you. + +But I have nevertheless a much more laudable motive--I should think +myself the unworthiest of creatures, could I be brought to slight a +dear friend, and such a meritorious one, in her distress. I would die +first--And so I told my mother. And I have desired her not to watch me +in my retired hours; nor to insist upon my lying with her constantly, +which she now does more earnestly than ever. 'Twere better, I told her, +that the Harlowe-Betty were borrowed to be set over me. + +Mr. Hickman, who so greatly honours you, has, unknown to me, interposed +so warmly in your favour with my mother, that it makes for him no small +merit with me. + +I cannot, at present, write to every particular, unless I would be in +set defiance. Tease, tease, tease, for ever! The same thing, though +answered fifty times over, in every hour to be repeated--Lord bless +me! what a life must my poor father--But let me remember to whom I am +writing. + +If this ever-active, ever-mischievous monkey of a man, this Lovelace, +contrived as you suspect--But here comes my mother again--Ay, stay a +little longer, my Mamma, if you please--I can but be suspected! I can +but be chidden for making you wait; and chidden I am sure to be, whether +I do or not, in the way you, my good Mamma, are Antony'd into. + +Bless me! how impatient she is! How she thunders at the door! This +moment, Madam! How came I to double-lock myself if! What have I done +with the key! Duce take the key! Dear Madam! You flutter one so! + + +***** + + +You may believe, my dear, that I took care of my papers before I opened +the door. We have had a charming dialogue--She flung from me in a +passion-- + +So--What's now to be done? Sent for down in a very peremptory manner, +I assure you. What an incoherent letter will you have, when I get it +to you! But now I know where to send it, Mr. Hickman shall find me a +messenger. Yet, if he be detected, poor soul, he will be Harlowed-off, +as well as his meek mistress. + + +THURSDAY, APRIL 13. + +I have this moment your continuation-letter. And am favoured, at +present, with the absence of my Argus-eyes mother.-- + +Dear creature! I can account for all your difficulties. A young lady of +your delicacy!--And with such a man!--I must be brief---- + +The man's a fool, my dear, with all his pride, and with all his +complaisance, and affected regards to your injunctions. Yet his ready +inventions---- + +Sometimes I think you should go to Lady Betty's. I know not what to +advise you to do.--I should, if you were not so intent upon reconciling +yourself to your relations. Yet they are implacable. You can have no +hopes of them. Your uncle's errand to my mother may convince you of +that; and if you have an answer to your letter to your sister, that will +confirm you, I dare say. + +You need not to have been afraid of asking me, Whether upon reading your +narrative, I thought any extenuation could lie for what you have done! I +have, as above, before I had your question, told you my mind as to that. +And I repeat, I think, your provocations and inducements considered, +that ever young creature was who took such a step. + +But you took it not--You were driven on one side, and, possibly, tricked +on the other.--If any woman on earth shall be circumstanced as you were, +and shall hold out so long as you did, against her persecutors on one +hand, and her seducer on the other, I will forgive her for all the rest +of her conduct, be it what it will. + +All your acquaintance, you may suppose, talk of nobody but you. Some +indeed bring your admirable character for a plea against you: but nobody +does, or can, acquit your father and uncles. + +Every body seems apprized of your brother's and sister's motives. Your +flight is, no doubt, the very thing they aimed to drive you to, by the +various attacks they made upon you; unhoping (as they must do all the +time) the success of their schemes in Solmes's behalf. They knew, that +if once you were restored to favour, the suspended love of your father +and uncles, like a river breaking down a temporary obstruction, would +return with double force; and that then you would expose, and triumph +over all their arts.--And now, I hear they enjoy their successful +malice. + +Your father is all rage and violence. He ought, I am sure, to turn his +rage inward. All your family accuse you of acting with deep art; and are +put upon supposing that you are actually every hour exulting over them, +with your man, in the success of it. + +They all pretend now, that your trial of Wednesday was to be the last. + +Advantage would indeed, my mother owns, have been taken of your +yielding, if you had yielded. But had you not been prevailed upon, they +would have given up their scheme, and taken your promise for renouncing +Lovelace--Believe them who will! + +They own, however, that a minister was to be present--Mr. Solmes was +to be at hand--And your father was previously to try his authority over +you, in order to make you sign the settlements--All of it a romantic +contrivance of your wild-headed foolish brother, I make no doubt. Is +it likely that he and Bell would have given way to your restoration to +favour, supposing it in their power to hinder it, on any other terms +than those their hearts had been so long set upon? + +How they took your flight, when they found it out, may be better +supposed than described. + +Your aunt Hervey, it seems, was the first that went down to the ivy +summer-house, in order to acquaint you that their search was over. +Betty followed her; and they not finding you there, went on towards the +cascade, according to a hint of yours. + +Returning by the garden-door, they met a servant [they don't say, it was +Joseph Leman; but it is very likely that it was he] running, as he said, +from pursuing Mr. Lovelace (a great hedge-stake in his hand, and out of +breath) to alarm the family. + +If it were this fellow, and if he were employed in the double agency of +cheating them, and cheating you, what shall we think of the wretch you +are with? Run away from him, my dear, if so--no matter to whom--or marry +him, if you cannot. + +Your aunt and all your family were accordingly alarmed by this +fellow--evidently when too late for pursuit. They got together, and when +a posse, ran to the place of interview; and some of them as far as to +the tracks of the chariot wheels, without stopping. And having heard the +man's tale upon the spot, a general lamentation, a mutual upbraiding, +and rage, and grief, were echoed from the different persons, according +to their different tempers and conceptions. And they returned like fools +as they went. + +Your brother, at first, ordered horses and armed men to be got ready for +a pursuit. Solmes and your uncle Tony were to be of the party. But your +mother and your aunt Hervey dissuaded them from it, for fear of adding +evil to evil; not doubting but Lovelace had taken measures to support +himself in what he had done; and especially when the servant declared, +that he saw you run with him as fast as you could set foot to the +ground; and that there were several armed men on horseback at a small +distance off. + + +***** + + +My mother's absence was owing to her suspicion, that the Knolly's were +to assist in our correspondence. She made them a visit upon it. She does +every thing at once. And they have promised, that no more letters shall +be left there, without her knowledge. + +But Mr. Hickman has engaged one Filmer, a husbandman in the lane we call +Finch-lane, near us, to receive them. Thither you will be pleased to +direct yours, under cover, to Mr. John Soberton; and Mr. Hickman himself +will call for them there; and there shall leave mine. It goes against me +too, to make him so useful to me. He looks already so proud upon it! +I shall have him [Who knows?] give himself airs--He had best consider, +that the favour he has been long aiming at, may put him into a +very dangerous, a very ticklish situation. He that can oblige, may +disoblige--Happy for some people not to have it in their power to +offend! + +I will have patience, if I can, for a while, to see if these bustlings +in my mother will subside--but upon my word, I will not long bear this +usage. + +Sometimes I am ready to think, that my mother carries it thus on purpose +to tire me out, and to make me the sooner marry. If I find it to be so, +and that Hickman, in order to make a merit with me, is in the low plot, +I will never bear him in my sight. + +Plotting wretch, as I doubt your man is, I wish to heaven that you +were married, that you might brave them all, and not be forced to hide +yourself, and be hurried from one inconvenient place to another. I +charge you, omit not to lay hold on any handsome opportunity that may +offer for that purpose. + +Here again comes my mother-- + + +***** + + +We look mighty glum upon each other, I can tell you. She had not best +Harlowe me at this rate--I won't bear it. + +I have a vast deal to write. I know not what to write first. Yet my mind +is full, and ready to run over. + +I am got into a private corner of the garden, to be out of her +way.--Lord help these mothers!--Do they think they can prevent a +daughter's writing, or doing any thing she has a mind to do, by +suspicion, watchfulness, and scolding?--They had better place a +confidence in one by half--A generous mind scorns to abuse a generous +confidence. + +You have a nice, a very nice part to act with this wretch--who yet has, +I think, but one plain path before him. I pity you--but you must +make the best of the lot you have been forced to draw. Yet I see your +difficulties.--But, if he do not offer to abuse your confidence, I would +have you seem at least to place some in him. + +If you think not of marrying soon, I approve of your resolution to fix +somewhere out of his reach. And if he know not where to find you, so +much the better. Yet I verily believe, they would force you back, could +they but come at you, if they were not afraid of him. + +I think, by all means, you should demand of both your trustees to be put +in possession of your own estate. Mean time I have sixty guineas at your +service. I beg you will command them. Before they are gone, I'll take +care you shall be further supplied. I don't think you'll have a shilling +or a shilling's worth of your own from your relations, unless you extort +it from them. + +As they believe you went away by your own consent, they are, it seems, +equally surprised and glad that you have left your jewels and money +behind you, and have contrived for clothes so ill. Very little +likelihood this shews of their answering your requests. + +Indeed every one who knows not what I now know, must be at a loss to +account for your flight, as they will call it. And how, my dear, can +one report it with any tolerable advantage to you?--To say, you did not +intend it when you met him, who will believe it?--To say, that a person +of your known steadiness and punctilio was over-persuaded when you gave +him the meeting, how will that sound?--To say, you were tricked out of +yourself, and people were given credit to it, how disreputable!--And +while unmarried, and yet with him, the man a man of such a character, +what would it not lead a censuring world to think? + +I want to see how you put it in your letter for your clothes. + +As you may depend upon all the little spiteful things they can offer, +instead of sending what you write for, pray accept the sum that I +tender. What will seven guineas do?--And I will find a way to send you +also any of my clothes and linen for present supply. I beg, my dear +Clarissa, that you will not put your Anna Howe upon a footing with +Lovelace, in refusing to accept of my offer. If you do not oblige me, I +shall be apt to think you rather incline to be obliged to him, than to +favour me. And if I find this, I shall not know how to reconcile it with +your delicacy in other respects. + +Pray inform me of every thing that passes between you and him. My cares +for you (however needless, from your own prudence) make me wish you to +continue to be every minute. If any thing occur that you would tell me +of if I were present, fail not to put it down in writing, although +from your natural diffidence, it should not appear to you altogether so +worthy of your pen, or my knowing. A stander-by may see more of the game +than one that plays. Great consequences, like great folks, generally owe +their greatness to small causes, and little incidents. + +Upon the whole, I do not now think it is in your power to dismiss him +when you please. I apprized you beforehand, that it would not. I +repeat, therefore, that were I you, I would at least seem to place +some confidence in him. So long as he is decent, you may. Very visibly +observable, to such delicacy as yours, must be that behaviour in him, +which will make him unworthy of some confidence. + +Your relations, according to what old Antony says to my mother, and she +to me, (by way of threatening, that you will not gain your supposed ends +upon them by your flight,) seem to expect that you will throw yourself +into Lady Betty's protection; and that she will offer to mediate +for you. And they vow, that they will never hearken to any terms of +accommodation that shall come from that quarter; for I dare aver, that +your brother and sister will not let them cool--at least, till their +uncles have made such dispositions, and perhaps your father too, as they +would have them make. + +As this letter will apprize you of an alteration in the place to which +you must direct your next, I send it by a friend of Mr. Hickman, who may +be depended upon. He has business in the neighbourhood of Mrs. Sorlings; +and he knows her. He will return to Mr. Hickman this night; and bring +back any letter you shall have ready to send, or can get ready. It is +moon-light. He'll not mind waiting for you. I choose not to send by any +of Mr. Hickman's servants--at present, however. Every hour is now, +or may be, important; and may make an alteration in your resolutions +necessary. + +I hear at this instant, my mother calling about her, and putting every +body into motion. She will soon, I suppose, make me and my employment +the subjects of her inquiry. + +Adieu, my dear. May heaven preserve you, and restore you with honour as +unsullied as your mind to + +Your ever affectionate ANNA HOWE. + + + + +LETTER IX + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE THURSDAY AFTERNOON, APRIL 13. + + +I am infinitely concerned, my ever dear and ever kind friend, that I am +the sad occasion of the displeasure between your mother and you.--How +many persons have I made unhappy. + +Had I not to console myself, that my error is not owing to wicked +precipitation, I should be the most miserable of all creatures. As it +is, I am enough punished in the loss of my character, more valuable +to me than my life; and in the cruel doubts and perplexities which, +conflicting with my hopes, and each getting the victory by turns, harrow +up my soul between them. + +I think, however, that you should obey your mother, and decline a +correspondence with me; at least for the present. Take care how you +fall into my error; for that begun with carrying on a prohibited +correspondence; a correspondence which I thought it in my power to +discontinue at pleasure. My talent is scribbling; and I the readier fell +into this freedom, as I found delight in writing; having motives too, +which I thought laudable; and, at one time, the permission of all my +friends; to write to him.* + + + * See Vol. I. Letter III. + + +Yet, as to this correspondence, What hurt could arise from it, if your +mother could be prevailed upon to permit it to be continued?--So much +prudence and discretion as you have; and you, in writing to me, lying +under no temptation of following so bad an example as I have set--my +letters too occasionally filled with self-accusation. + +I thank you, my dear, most cordially I thank you, for your kind offers. +You may be assured, that I will sooner be beholden to you, than to any +body living. To Mr. Lovelace the last. Do not therefore think, that +by declining your favours, I have an intention to lay myself under +obligations to him. + +I am willing to hope (notwithstanding what you write) that my friends +will send me my little money, together with my clothes. They are too +considerate, some of them at least, to permit that I should be put to +such low difficulties. Perhaps, they will not be in haste to oblige me. +But, if not, I cannot yet want. I believe you think, I must not dispute +with Mr. Lovelace the expenses of the road and lodgings, till I can get +a fixed abode. But I hope soon to put an end even to those small sort of +obligations. + +Small hopes indeed of a reconciliation from your account of my uncle's +visit to your mother, in order to set her against an almost friendless +creature whom once he loved! But is it not my duty to try for it? +Ought I to widen my error by obstinacy and resentment, because of their +resentment; which must appear reasonable to them, as they suppose my +flight premeditated; and as they are made to believe, that I am capable +of triumphing in it, and over them, with the man they hate? When I have +done all in my power to restore myself to their favour, I shall have the +less to reproach myself with. + +These considerations make me waver about following your advice, in +relation to marriage; and the rather, as he is so full of complaisance +with regard to my former conditions, which he calls my injunctions. +Nor can I now, that my friends, as you inform me, have so strenuously +declared against accepting of the mediation of the ladies of Mr. +Lovelace's family, put myself into their protection, unless I am +resolved to give up all hopes of a reconciliation with my own. + +Yet if any happy introduction could be thought of to effect this +desirable purpose, how shall terms be proposed to my father, while +this man is with me, or near me? On the other hand, should they in his +absence get me back by force, (and this, you are of opinion, they would +attempt to do, but in fear of him,) how will their severest acts of +compulsion be justified by my flight from them!--Mean while, to what +censures, as you remind me, do I expose myself, while he and I are +together and unmarried!--Yet [can I with patience ask the question?] Is +it in my power?--O my dear Miss Howe! And am I so reduced, as that, to +save the poor remains of my reputation in the world's eye, I must watch +the gracious motion from this man's lips? + +Were my cousin Morden in England, all might still perhaps be determined +happily. + +If no other mediation than this can be procured to set on foot the +wished-for reconciliation, and if my situation with Mr. Lovelace alter +not in the interim, I must endeavour to keep myself in a state of +independence till he arrive, that I may be at liberty to govern myself +by his advice and direction. + +I will acquaint you, as you desire, with all that passes between +Mr. Lovelace and me. Hitherto I have not discovered any thing in his +behaviour that is very exceptionable. Yet I cannot say, that I think +the respect he shews me, an easy, unrestrained, and natural respect, +although I can hardly tell where the fault is. + +But he has doubtless an arrogant and encroaching spirit. Nor is he +so polite as his education, and other advantages, might have made one +expect him to be. He seems, in short, to be one, who has always had too +much of his own will to study to accommodate himself to that of others. + +As to the placing of some confidence in him, I shall be as ready to take +your advice in this particular, as in all others, and as he will be +to deserve it. But tricked away as I was by him, not only against my +judgment, but my inclination, can he, or any body, expect, that I should +immediately treat him with complaisance, as if I acknowledged obligation +to him for carrying me away?--If I did, must he not either think me a +vile dissembler before he gained that point, or afterwards? + +Indeed, indeed, my dear, I could tear my hair, on reconsidering what you +write (as to the probability that the dreaded Wednesday was more dreaded +than it needed to be) to think, that I should be thus tricked by this +man; and that, in all likelihood, through his vile agent Joseph Leman. +So premeditated and elaborate a wickedness as it must be!--Must I +not, with such a man, be wanting to myself, if I were not jealous and +vigilant?--Yet what a life to live for a spirit so open, and naturally +so unsuspicious, as mine? + +I am obliged to Mr. Hickman for the assistance he is so kindly ready to +give to our correspondence. He is so little likely to make to himself an +additional merit with the daughter upon it, that I shall be very sorry, +if he risk any thing with the mother by it. + +I am now in a state of obligation: so must rest satisfied with whatever +I cannot help. Whom have I the power, once so precious to me, of +obliging?--What I mean, my dear, is, that I ought, perhaps, to +expect, that my influences over you are weakened by my indiscretion. +Nevertheless, I will not, if I can help it, desert myself, nor give up +the privilege you used to allow me, of telling you what I think of such +parts of your conduct as I may not approve. + +You must permit me therefore, severe as your mother is against an +undesigning offender, to say that I think your liveliness to her +inexcusable--to pass over, for this time, what nevertheless concerns me +not a little, the free treatment you almost indiscriminately give to my +relations. + +If you will not, for your duty's sake, forbear your tauntings and +impatience, let me beseech you, that you will for mine.--Since +otherwise, your mother may apprehend that my example, like a leaven, is +working itself into the mind of her beloved daughter. And may not such +an apprehension give her an irreconcilable displeasure against me? + +I enclose the copy of my letter to my sister, which you are desirous to +see. You will observe, that although I have not demanded my estate in +form, and of my trustees, yet that I have hinted at leave to retire to +it. How joyfully would I keep my word, if they would accept of the offer +I renew!--It was not proper, I believe you will think, on many accounts, +to own that I was carried off against my inclination. I am, my dearest +friend, + +Your ever obliged and affectionate, CL. HARLOWE. + + + + +LETTER X + +TO MISS ARABELLA HARLOWE [ENCLOSED TO MISS HOWE IN THE PRECEDING.] ST. +ALBAN'S, APR. 11. + + +MY DEAR SISTER, + +I have, I confess, been guilty of an action which carries with it a rash +and undutiful appearance. And I should have thought it an inexcusable +one, had I been used with less severity than I have been of late; and +had I not had too great reason to apprehend, that I was to be made a +sacrifice to a man I could not bear to think of. But what is done, is +done--perhaps I could wish it had not; and that I had trusted to the +relenting of my dear and honourable parents.--Yet this from no other +motives but those of duty to them.--To whom I am ready to return (if +I may not be permitted to retire to The Grove) on conditions which I +before offered to comply with. + +Nor shall I be in any sort of dependence upon the person by whose means +I have taken this truly-reluctant step, inconsistent with any reasonable +engagement I shall enter into, if I am not further precipitated. Let me +not have it to say, now at this important crisis! that I have a sister, +but not a friend in that sister. My reputation, dearer to me than life, +(whatever you may imagine from the step I have taken,) is suffering. A +little lenity will, even yet, in a great measure, restore it, and make +that pass for a temporary misunderstanding only, which otherwise will be +a stain as durable as life, upon a creature who has already been treated +with great unkindness, to use no harsher a word. + +For your own sake therefore, for my brother's sake, by whom (I must say) +I have been thus precipitated, and for all the family's sake, aggravate +not my fault, if, on recollecting every thing, you think it one; nor by +widening the unhappy difference, expose a sister for ever--prays + +Your affectionate CL. HARLOWE. + +I shall take it for a very great favour to have my clothes directly sent +me, together with fifty guineas, which you will find in my escritoire +(of which I enclose the key); as also of the divinity and miscellany +classes of my little library; and, if it be thought fit, my +jewels--directed for me, to be left till called for, at Mr. Osgood's, +near Soho-square. + + + + +LETTER XI + +MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. + + + Mr. Lovelace, in continuation of his last letter, (No. VII.) + gives an account to his friend (pretty much to the same + effect with the lady's) of all that passed between them at + the inns, in the journey, and till their fixing at Mrs. + Sorling's; to avoid repetition, those passages in his + narrative are extracted, which will serve to embellish + her's; to open his views; or to display the humourous talent + he was noted for. + + At their alighting at the inn at St. Alban's on Monday + night, thus he writes: + + +The people who came about us, as we alighted, seemed by their jaw-fallen +faces, and goggling eyes, to wonder at beholding a charming young lady, +majesty in her air and aspect, so composedly dressed, yet with features +so discomposed, come off a journey which made the cattle smoke, and the +servants sweat. I read their curiosity in their faces, and my beloved's +uneasiness in her's. She cast a conscious glance, as she alighted, upon +her habit, which was no habit; and repulsively, as I may say, quitting +my assisting hand, hurried into the house.***** + +Ovid was not a greater master of metamorphoses than thy friend. To the +mistress of the house I instantly changed her into a sister, brought off +by surprise from a near relation's, (where she had wintered,) to prevent +her marrying a confounded rake, [I love always to go as near the truth +as I can,] whom her father and mother, her elder sister, and all her +loving uncles, aunts, and cousins abhorred. This accounted for my +charmer's expected sullens; for her displeasure when she was to join me +again, were it to hold; for her unsuitable dress upon the road; and, +at the same time, gave her a proper and seasonable assurance of my +honourable views. + + +Upon the debate between the lady and him, and particularly upon that +part where she upbraids him with putting a young creature upon making a + sacrifice of her duty and conscience, he write: + + +All these, and still more mortifying things, she said. + +I heard her in silence. But when it came to my turn, I pleaded, I +argued, I answered her, as well as I could.--And when humility would +not do, I raised my voice, and suffered my eyes to sparkle with anger; +hoping to take advantage of that sweet cowardice which is so amiable in +the sex, and to which my victory over this proud beauty is principally +owing. + +She was not intimidated, however, and was going to rise upon me in her +temper; and would have broken in upon my defence. But when a man talks +to a woman upon such subjects, let her be ever so much in alt, 'tis +strange, if he cannot throw out a tub to the whale;--that is to say, if +he cannot divert her from resenting one bold thing, by uttering two or +three full as bold; but for which more favourable interpretations will +lie. + + + To that part, where she tells him of the difficulty she made + to correspond with him at first, thus he writes: + + +Very true, my precious!--And innumerable have been the difficulties +thou hast made me struggle with. But one day thou mayest wish, that thou +hadst spared this boast; as well as those other pretty haughtinesses, +'That thou didst not reject Solmes for my sake: that my glory, if I +valued myself upon carrying thee off, was thy shame: that I have more +merit with myself than with thee, or any body else: [what a coxcomb she +makes me, Jack!] that thou wishest thyself in thy father's house again, +whatever were to be the consequence.'--If I forgive thee, charmer, +for these hints, for these reflections, for these wishes, for these +contempts, I am not the Lovelace I have been reputed to be; and that thy +treatment of me shews that thou thinkest I am. + +In short, her whole air throughout this debate expressed a majestic kind +of indignation, which implied a believed superiority of talents over the +person to whom she spoke. + +Thou hast heard me often expatiate upon the pitiful figure a man must +make, whose wife has, or believes she has, more sense than himself. A +thousand reasons could I give why I ought not to think of marrying Miss +Clarissa Harlowe; at least till I can be sure, that she loves me with +the preference I must expect from a wife. + +I begin to stagger in my resolutions. Ever averse as I was to the +hymeneal shackles, how easily will prejudices recur! Heaven give me the +heart to be honest to my Clarissa!--There's a prayer, Jack! If I should +not be heard, what a sad thing would that be, for the most admirable of +women!--Yet, as I do no often trouble Heaven with my prayers, who knows +but this may be granted? + +But there lie before me such charming difficulties, such scenery for +intrigue, for stratagem, for enterprize. What a horrible thing, that my +talents point all that way!--When I know what is honourable and just; +and would almost wish to be honest?--Almost, I say; for such a varlet am +I, that I cannot altogether wish it, for the soul of me!--Such a triumph +over the whole sex, if I can subdue this lady! My maiden vow, as I may +call it!--For did not the sex begin with me? And does this lady spare +me? Thinkest thou, Jack, that I should have spared my Rosebud, had I +been set at defiance thus?--Her grandmother besought me, at first, to +spare her Rosebud: and when a girl is put, or puts herself into a +man's power, what can he wish for further? while I always considered +opposition and resistance as a challenge to do my worst.* + + + * See Vol. I. Letter XXXIV. + + +Why, why, will the dear creature take such pains to appear all ice to +me?--Why will she, by her pride, awaken mine?--Hast thou not seen, in +the above, how contemptibly she treats me?--What have I not suffered +for her, and even from her!--Ought I to bear being told, that she will +despise me, if I value myself above that odious Solmes? + +Then she cuts me short in all my ardours. To vow fidelity, is by a +cursed turn upon me, to shew, that there is reason, in my own opinion, +for doubt of it. The very same reflection upon me once before.* + + + * See Vol. II. Letter XIII. + + +In my power, or out of my power, all one to this lady.--So, Belford, my +poor vows are crammed down my throat, before they can well rise to my +lips. And what can a lover say to his mistress, if she will neither let +him lie nor swear? + +One little piece of artifice I had recourse to: When she pushed so hard +for me to leave her, I made a request to her, upon a condition she could +not refuse; and pretended as much gratitude upon her granting it, as if +it were a favour of the last consequence. + +And what was this? but to promise what she had before promised, 'Never +to marry any other man, while I am living, and single, unless I should +give her cause for high disgust against me.' This, you know, was +promising nothing, because she could be offended at any time, and was to +be the sole judge of the offence. But it shewed her how reasonable and +just my expectations were; and that I was no encroacher. + +She consented; and asked what security I expected? Her word only. + +She gave me her word: but I besought her excuse for sealing it: and in +the same moment (since to have waited for consent would have been asking +for a denial) saluted her. And, believe me, or not, but, as I hope to +live, it was the first time I had the courage to touch her charming lips +with mine. And this I tell thee, Belford, that that single pressure (as +modestly put too, as if I were as much a virgin as herself, that she +might not be afraid of me another time) delighted me more than ever I +was delighted by the ultimatum with any other woman.--So precious do +awe, reverence, and apprehended prohibition, make a favour! + +And now, Belford, I am only afraid that I shall be too cunning; for she +does not at present talk enough for me. I hardly know what to make of +the dear creature yet. + +I topt the brother's part on Monday night before the landlady at St. +Alban's; asking my sister's pardon for carrying her off so unprepared +for a journey; prated of the joy my father and mother, and all +our friends, would have in receiving her; and this with so many +circumstances, that I perceived, by a look she gave me, that went +through my very veins, that I had gone too far. I apologized for it +indeed when alone; but could not penetrate for the soul of me, whether I +made the matter better or worse by it. + +But I am of too frank a nature: my success, and the joy I have because +of the jewel I am half in possession of, has not only unlocked my bosom, +but left the door quite open. + +This is a confounded sly sex. Would she but speak out, as I do--but I +must learn reserves of her. + +She must needs be unprovided of money: but has too much pride to accept +of any from me. I would have had her go to town [to town, if possible, +must I get her to consent to go] in order to provide herself with +the richest of silks which that can afford. But neither is this to be +assented to. And yet, as my intelligencer acquaints me, her implacable +relations are resolved to distress her all they can. + +These wretches have been most gloriously raving, ever since her flight; +and still, thank Heaven, continue to rave; and will, I hope, for a +twelvemonth to come. Now, at last, it is my day! + +Bitterly do they regret, that they permitted her poultry-visits, and +garden-walks, which gave her the opportunity to effect an escape which +they suppose preconcerted. For, as to her dining in the ivy-bower, they +had a cunning design to answer upon her in that permission, as Betty +told Joseph her lover.* + + + * Vol. II. Letter XLVII. paragr. 37, 38. + + +They lost, they say, and excellent pretence for confining her more +closely on my threatening to rescue her, if they offered to carry her +against her will to old Antony's moated house.* For this, as I told thee +at the Hart, and as I once hinted to the dear creature herself,** they +had it in deliberation to do; apprehending, that I might attempt to +carry her off, either with or without her consent, on some one of those +connived-at excursions. + + + * Ibid. Let. XXXVI. and Let. XXXIX. par. I. + ** Ibid. Let. XXXVI. par. 4. See also Let. XV. par. 3. + + +But here my honest Joseph, who gave me the information, was of admirable +service to me. I had taught him to make the Harlowes believe, that I was +as communicative to my servants, as their stupid James was to Joseph:* +Joseph, as they supposed, by tampering with Will,** got all my secrets, +and was acquainted with all my motions: and having also undertaken to +watch all those of his young lady,***** the wise family were secure; and +so was my beloved; and so was I. + + + * Ibid. Letter XLVII. par. 6, and 39. +** This will be farther explained in Letter XXI. of this volume. ***** +See Vol. I. Letters XXXI. and XXXIV. + + +I once had it in my head (and I hinted it to thee* in a former) in case +such a step should be necessary, to attempt to carry her off by surprise +from the wood-house; as it is remote from the dwelling-house. This, +had I attempted, I should have certainly effected, by the help of the +confraternity: and it would have been an action worthy of us all.--But +Joseph's conscience, as he called it, stood in my way; for he thought it +must have been known to be done by his connivance. I could, I dare say, +have overcome this scruple, as easily as I did many of the others, had +I not depended at one time upon her meeting me at midnight or late hour +[and, if she had, she never would have gone back]; at other times, +upon the cunning family's doing my work for me, equally against their +knowledge or their wills. + + + * See Vol. I. Letter XXXV. + + +For well I knew, that James and Arabella were determined never to leave +off their foolish trials and provocations, till, by tiring her out, they +had either made her Solmes's wife, or guilty of some such rashness as +should throw her for ever out of the favour of both her uncles; though +they had too much malice in their heads to intend service to me by their +persecutions of her. + + + + +LETTER XII + +MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. [IN CONTINUATION.] + + +I obliged the dear creature highly, I could perceive, by bringing Mrs. +Greme to attend her, and to suffer that good woman's recommendation of +lodgings to take place, on her refusal to go to The Lawn. + +She must believe all my views to be honourable, when I had provided for +her no particular lodgings, leaving it to her choice, whether she would +go to M. Hall, to The Lawn, to London, or to either of the dowagers of +my family. + +She was visibly pleased with my motion of putting Mrs. Greme into the +chaise with her, and riding on horseback myself. + +Some people would have been apprehensive of what might pass between +her and Mrs. Greme. But as all my relations either know or believe the +justice of my intentions by her, I was in no pain on that account; +and the less, as I have always been above hypocrisy, or wishing to be +thought better than I am. And indeed, what occasion has a man to be an +hypocrite, who has hitherto found his views upon the sex better answered +for his being known to be a rake? Why, even my beloved here denied not +to correspond with me, though her friends had taught her to think me a +libertine--Who then would be trying a new and worse character? + +And then Mrs. Greme is a pious matron, and would not have been biased +against truth on any consideration. She used formerly, while there were +any hopes of my reformation, to pray for me. She hardly continues the +good custom, I doubt; for her worthy lord makes no scruple occasionally +to rave against me to man, woman, and child, as they come in his way. +He is very undutiful, as thou knowest. Surely, I may say so; since all +duties are reciprocal. But for Mrs. Greme, poor woman! when my lord +has the gout, and is at The Lawn, and the chaplain not to be found, she +prays by him, or reads a chapter to him in the Bible, or some other good +book. + +Was it not therefore right to introduce such a good sort of woman to +the dear creature; and to leave them, without reserve, to their own +talk!--And very busy in talk I saw they were, as they rode; and felt it +too; for most charmingly glowed my cheeks. + +I hope I shall be honest, I once more say: but as we frail mortals are +not our own masters at all times, I must endeavour to keep the dear +creature unapprehensive, until I can get her to our acquaintance's in +London, or to some other safe place there. Should I, in the interim, +give her the least room for suspicion; or offer to restrain her; she +can make her appeals to strangers, and call the country in upon me; and, +perhaps, throw herself upon her relations on their own terms. And were I +now to lose her, how unworthy should I be to be the prince and leader +of such a confraternity as ours!--How unable to look up among men! or to +shew my face among women! + +As things at present stand, she dare not own that she went off against +her own consent; and I have taken care to make all the implacables +believe, that she escaped with it. + +She has received an answer from Miss Howe, to the letter written to her +from St. Alban's.* + + + * See Vol. II. Letter XLVIII. + + +Whatever are the contents, I know not; but she was drowned in tears on +the perusal of it. And I am the sufferer. + +Miss Howe is a charming creature too; but confoundedly smart and +spiritful. I am a good deal afraid of her. Her mother can hardly keep +her in. I must continue to play off old Antony, by my honest Joseph, +upon that mother, in order to manage that daughter, and oblige my +beloved to an absolute dependence upon myself.* + + + * See Vol. I. Letter XXXI. + + +Mrs. Howe is impatient of contradiction. So is Miss. A young lady who is +sensible that she has all the materials requisites herself, to be under +maternal controul;--fine ground for a man of intrigue to build upon!--A +mother over-notable; a daughter over-sensible; and their Hickman, who +is--over-neither: but merely a passive-- + +Only that I have an object still more desirable--! + +Yet how unhappy, that these two young ladies lived so near each other, +and are so well acquainted! Else how charmingly might I have managed +them both! + +But one man cannot have every woman worth having--Pity though--when the +man is such a VERY clever fellow! + + + + +LETTER XIII + +MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. [IN CONTINUATION.] + + +Never was there such a pair of scribbling lovers as we;--yet perhaps +whom it so much concerns to keep from each other what each writes. She +won't have any thing else to do. I would, if she'd let me. I am not +reformed enough for a husband.--Patience is a virtue, Lord M. says. Slow +and sure, is another of his sentences. If I had not a great deal of that +virtue, I should not have waited the Harlowes own time of ripening into +execution my plots upon themselves and upon their goddess daughter. + +My beloved has been writing to her saucy friend, I believe, all that has +befallen her, and what has passed between us hitherto. She will possibly +have fine subjects for her pen, if she be as minute as I am. + +I would not be so barbarous as to permit old Antony to set Mrs. Howe +against her, did I not dread the consequences of the correspondence +between the two young ladies. So lively the one, so vigilant, so prudent +both, who would not wish to outwit such girls, and to be able to twirl +them round his finger? + +My charmer has written to her sister for her clothes, for some gold, and +for some of her books. What books can tell her more than she knows? But +I can. So she had better study me. + +She may write. She must be obliged to me at last, with all her pride. +Miss Howe indeed will be ready enough to supply her; but I question, +whether she can do it without her mother, who is as covetous as the +grave. And my agent's agent, old Antony, has already given the mother a +hint which will make her jealous of pecuniaries. + +Besides, if Miss Howe has money by her, I can put her mother upon +borrowing it of her: nor blame me, Jack, for contrivances that have +their foundation in generosity. Thou knowest my spirit; and that I +should be proud to lay an obligation upon my charmer to the amount of +half, nay, to the whole of my estate. Lord M. has more for me than I +can ever wish for. My predominant passion is girl, not gold; nor value I +this, but as it helps me to that, and gives me independence. + +I was forced to put it into the sweet novice's head, as well for my sake +as for hers (lest we should be traceable by her direction) whither to +direct the sending of her clothes, if they incline to do her that small +piece of justice. + +If they do I shall begin to dread a reconciliation; and must be forced +to muse for a contrivance or two to prevent it, and to avoid mischief. +For that (as I have told honest Joseph Leman) is a great point with me. + +Thou wilt think me a sad fellow, I doubt. But are not all rakes sad +fellows?--And art not thou, to thy little power, as bad as any? If thou +dost all that's in thy head and in thy heart to do, thou art worse than +I; for I do not, I assure you. + +I proposed, and she consented, that her clothes, or whatever else her +relations should think fit to send her, should be directed to thy cousin +Osgood's. Let a special messenger, at my charge, bring me any letter, or +portable parcel, that shall come. If not portable, give me notice of it. +But thou'lt have no trouble of this sort from her relations, I dare be +sworn. And in this assurance, I will leave them, I think, to act upon +their own heads. A man would have no more to answer for than needs must. + +But one thing, while I think of it; which is of great importance to be +attended to--You must hereafter write to me in character, as I shall do +to you. It would be a confounded thing to be blown up by a train of +my own laying. And who knows what opportunities a man in love may have +against himself? In changing a coat or waistcoat, something might be +forgotten. I once suffered that way. Then for the sex's curiosity, it +is but remembering, in order to guard against it, that the name of their +common mother was Eve. + +Another thing remember; I have changed my name: changed it without an +act of parliament. 'Robert Huntingford' it is now. Continue Esquire. +It is a respectable addition, although every sorry fellow assumes it, +almost to the banishment of the usual traveling one of Captain. 'To be +left till called for, at the post-house at Hertford.' + +Upon naming thee, she asked thy character. I gave thee a better than +thou deservest, in order to do credit to myself. Yet I told her, that +thou wert an awkward fellow; and this to do credit to thee, that she may +not, if ever she be to see thee, expect a cleverer man than she'll find. +Yet thy apparent awkwardness befriends thee not a little: for wert thou +a sightly mortal, people would discover nothing extraordinary in +thee, when they conversed with thee: whereas, seeing a bear, they are +surprised to find in thee any thing that is like a man. Felicitate +thyself then upon thy defects; which are evidently thy principal +perfections; and which occasion thee a distinction which otherwise thou +wouldst never have. + +The lodgings we are in at present are not convenient. I was so delicate +as to find fault with them, as communicating with each other, because +I knew she would; and told her, that were I sure she was safe from +pursuit, I would leave her in them, (since such was her earnest desire +and expectation,) and go to London. + +She must be an infidel against all reason and appearances, if I do not +banish even the shadow of mistrust from her heart. + +Here are two young likely girls, daughters of the widow Sorlings; that's +the name of our landlady. + +I have only, at present, admired them in their dairy-works. How greedily +do the sex swallow praise!--Did I not once, in the streets of London, +see a well-dressed, handsome girl laugh, bridle, and visibly enjoy the +praises of a sooty dog, a chimney-sweeper; who, with his empty sack +across his shoulder, after giving her the way, stopt, and held up his +brush and shovel in admiration of her?--Egad, girl, thought I, I +despise thee as Lovelace: but were I the chimney-sweeper, and could only +contrive to get into thy presence, my life to thy virtue, I would have +thee. + +So pleased was I with the young Sorlings, for the elegance of her works, +that I kissed her, and she made me a courtesy for my condescension; and +blushed, and seemed sensible all over: encouraging, yet innocently, she +adjusted her handkerchief, and looked towards the door, as much as to +say, she would not tell, were I to kiss her again. + +Her eldest sister popt upon her. The conscious girl blushed again, and +looked so confounded, that I made an excuse for her, which gratified +both. Mrs. Betty, said I, I have been so much pleased with the neatness +of your dairy-works, that I could not help saluting your sister: you +have your share of merit in them, I am sure--Give me leave---- + +Good souls!--I like them both--she courtesied too!--How I love a +grateful temper! O that my Clarissa were but half so acknowledging! + +I think I must get one of them to attend my charmer when she +removes--the mother seems to be a notable woman. She had not best, +however, be too notable: since, were she by suspicion to give me a face +of difficulty to the matter, it would prepare me for a trial with one or +both the daughters. + +Allow me a little rhodamantade, Jack--but really and truly my heart is +fixed. I can think of no creature breathing of the sex, but my Gloriana. + + + + +LETTER XIV + +MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. [IN CONTINUATION.] + + +This is Wednesday; the day that I was to have lost my charmer for ever +to the hideous Solmes! With what high satisfaction and heart's-ease can +I now sit down, and triumph over my men in straw at Harlowe-place! Yet +'tis perhaps best for them, that she got off as she did. Who knows what +consequences might have followed upon my attending her in; or (if she +had not met me) upon my projected visit, followed by my myrmidons? + +But had I even gone in with her unaccompanied, I think I had but little +reason for apprehension: for well thou knowest, that the tame spirits +which value themselves upon reputation, and are held within the skirts +of the law by political considerations only, may be compared to an +infectious spider; which will run into his hole the moment one of his +threads is touched by a finger that can crush him, leaving all his toils +defenceless, and to be brushed down at the will of the potent invader. +While a silly fly, that has neither courage nor strength to resist, +no sooner gives notice, by its buz and its struggles, of its being +entangled, but out steps the self-circumscribed tyrant, winds round and +round the poor insect, till he covers it with his bowel-spun toils; and +when so fully secured, that it can neither move leg nor wing, suspends +it, as if for a spectacle to be exulted over: then stalking to the door +of his cell, turns about, glotes over it at a distance; and, sometimes +advancing, sometimes retiring, preys at leisure upon its vitals. + +But now I think of it, will not this comparison do as well for +the entangled girls, as for the tame spirits?--Better o' my +conscience!--'Tis but comparing the spider to us brave fellows, and it +quadrates. + +Whatever our hearts are in, our heads will follow. Begin with spiders, +with flies, with what we will, girl is the centre of gravity, and we all +naturally tend to it. + +Nevertheless, to recur; I cannot but observe, that these tame spirits +stand a poor chance in a fairly offensive war with such of us mad +fellows as are above all law, and scorn to sculk behind the hypocritical +screen of reputation. + +Thou knowest that I never scruple to throw myself amongst numbers of +adversaries; the more the safer: one or two, no fear, will take the part +of a single adventurer, if not intentionally, in fact; holding him in, +while others hold in the principal antagonist, to the augmentation of +their mutual prowess, till both are prevailed upon to compromise, or +one to be absent: so that, upon the whole, the law-breakers have the +advantage of the law-keepers, all the world over; at least for a time, +and till they have run to the end of their race. Add to this, in the +question between me and the Harlowes, that the whole family of them must +know that they have injured me--must therefore be afraid of me. Did they +not, at their own church, cluster together like bees, when they saw me +enter it? Nor knew they which should venture out first, when the service +was over. + +James, indeed, was not there. If he had, he would perhaps have +endeavoured to look valiant. But there is a sort of valour in the face, +which shews fear in the heart: just such a face would James Harlowe's +have been, had I made them a visit. + +When I have had such a face and such a heart as I have described to deal +with, I have been all calm and serene, and left it to the friends of the +blusterer (as I have done to the Harlowes) to do my work for me. + +I am about mustering up in my memory, all that I have ever done, that +has been thought praise-worthy, or but barely tolerable. I am afraid +thou canst not help me to many remembrances of this sort; because I +never was so bad as since I have known thee. + +Have I not had it in my heart to do some good that thou canst not remind +me of? Study for me, Jack. I have recollected some instances which I +think will tell in--but see if thou canst not help me to some which I +may have forgot. + +This I may venture to say, that the principal blot in my escutcheon is +owing to these girls, these confounded girls. But for them, I could go +to church with a good conscience: but when I do, there they are. Every +where does Satan spread his snares for me! But, how I think of it, what +if our governor should appoint churches for the women only, and others +for the men?--Full as proper, I think, for the promoting of true +piety in both, [much better than the synagogue-lattices,] as separate +boarding-schools for their education. + +There are already male and female dedications of churches. + +St. Swithin's, St. Stephen's, St. Thomas's, St. George's, and so forth, +might be appropriated to the men; and Santa Catharina's, Santa Anna's, +Santa Maria's, Santa Margaretta's, for the women. + +Yet were it so, and life to be the forfeiture of being found at the +female churches, I believe that I, like a second Clodius, should change +my dress, to come at my Portia or Pompeia, though one the daughter of a +Cato, the other the wife of a Caesar. + +But how I excurse!--Yet thou usedst to say, thou likedst my excursions. +If thou dost, thou'lt have enow of them: for I never had a subject I +so much adored; and with which I shall probably be compelled to have so +much patience before I strike the blow; if the blow I do strike. + +But let me call myself back to my recordation-subject--Thou needest +not remind me of my Rosebud. I have her in my head; and moreover have +contrived to give my fair-one an hint of that affair, by the agency of +honest Joseph Leman;* although I have not reaped the hoped-for credit of +her acknowledgement. + + + * See Vol. II. Letter XXVII. + + +That's the devil; and it was always my hard fate--every thing I do that +is good, is but as I ought!--Every thing of a contrary nature is brought +into the most glaring light against me--Is this fair? Ought not a +balance to be struck; and the credit carried to my account?--Yet I must +own too, that I half grudge Johnny this blooming maiden? for, in truth, +I think a fine woman too rich a jewel to hang about a poor man's neck. + +Surely, Jack, if I am guilty of a fault in my universal adorations of +the sex, the women in general ought to love me the better for it. + +And so they do; I thank them heartily; except here and there a covetous +little rogue comes cross me, who, under the pretence of loving virtue +for its own sake, wants to have me all to herself. + +I have rambled enough. + +Adieu, for the present. + + + + +LETTER XV + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE THURSDAY NIGHT, APRIL 13. + + +I always loved writing, and my unhappy situation gives me now enough of +it; and you, I fear, too much. I have had another very warm debate with +Mr. Lovelace. It brought on the subject which you advised me not to +decline, when it was handsomely offered. And I want to have either your +acquittal or blame for having suffered it to go off without effect. + +The impatient wretch sent up to me several times, while I was writing my +last to you, to desire my company: yet his business nothing particular; +only to hear him talk. The man seems pleased with his own volubility; +and, whenever he has collected together abundance of smooth things, he +wants me to find an ear for them! Yet he need not; for I don't often +gratify him either with giving him the praise for his verboseness, or +shewing the pleasure in it that he would be fond of. + +When I had finished the letter, and given it to Mr. Hickman's friend, I +was going up again, and had got up half a dozen stairs; when he besought +be to stop, and hear what he had to say. + +Nothing, as I said, to any new purpose had he to offer; but +complainings; and those in a manner, and with an air, as I thought, that +bordered upon insolence. He could not live, he told me, unless he had +more of my company, and of my indulgence too, that I had yet given him. + +Hereupon I stept down, and into the parlour, not a little out of humour +with him; and the more, as he has very quietly taken up his quarters +here, without talking of removing, as he had promised. + +We began instantly our angry conference. He provoked me; and I repeated +several of the plainest things I had said in our former conversations; +and particularly told him, that I was every hour more and more +dissatisfied with myself, and with him: that he was not a man, who, in +my opinion, improved upon acquaintance: and that I should not be easy +till he had left me to myself. + +He might be surprised at my warmth, perhaps: but really the man looked +so like a simpleton, hesitating, and having nothing to say for himself, +or that should excuse the peremptoriness of his demand upon me, (when he +knew I had been writing a letter which a gentleman waited for,) that I +flung from him, declaring, that I would be mistress of my own time, and +of my own actions, and not to be called to account for either. + +He was very uneasy till he could again be admitted into my company, and +when I was obliged to see him, which was sooner than I liked, never did +the man put on a more humble and respectful demeanor. + +He told me, that he had, upon this occasion, been entering into +himself, and had found a great deal of reason to blame himself for an +impertinency and inconsideration which, although he meant nothing by +it, must be very disagreeable to one of my delicacy. That having always +aimed at a manly sincerity and openness of heart, he had not till now +discovered, that both were very consistent with that true politeness, +which he feared he had too much disregarded, while he sought to avoid +the contrary extreme; knowing, that in me he had to deal with a lady, +who despised an hypocrite, and who was above all flattery. But from this +time forth, I should find such an alteration in his whole behaviour, as +might be expected from a man who knew himself to be honoured with the +presence and conversation of a person, who had the most delicate mind in +the world--that was his flourish. + +I said, that he might perhaps expect congratulation upon the discovery +he had just now made, to wit, that true politeness and sincerity were +reconcilable: but that I, who had, by a perverse fate, been thrown into +his company, had abundant reason to regret that he had not sooner found +this out.--Since, I believed, very few men of birth and education were +strangers to it. + +He knew not, neither, he said, that he had so badly behaved himself, as +to deserve so very severe a rebuke. + +Perhaps not, I replied: but he might, if so, make another discovery from +what I had said; which might be to my own disadvantage: since, if he +had so much reason to be satisfied with himself, he would see what an +ungenerous person he spoke to, who, when he seemed to give himself airs +of humility, which, perhaps he thought beneath him to assume, had not +the civility to make him a compliment upon them; but was ready to take +him at his word. + +He had long, with infinite pleasure, the pretended flattery-hater said, +admired my superior talents, and a wisdom in so young a lady, perfectly +suprising. + +Let me, Madam, said he, stand ever so low in your opinion, I shall +believe all you say to be just; and that I have nothing to do but to +govern myself for the future by your example, and by the standard you +shall be pleased to give me. + +I know better, Sir, replied I, than to value myself upon your volubility +of speech. As you pretend to pay so preferable a regard to sincerity, +you shall confine yourself to the strict rules of truth, when you speak +of me, to myself: and then, although you shall be so kind as to imagine +that you have reason to make me a compliment, you will have much more +to pride yourself in those arts which have made so extraordinary a young +creature so great a fool. + +Really, my dear, the man deserves not politer treatment.--And then has +he not made a fool, an egregious fool of me?--I am afraid he himself +thinks he has. + +I am surprised! I am amazed, Madam, returned he, at so strange a turn +upon me!--I am very unhappy, that nothing I can do or say will give +you a good opinion of me!--Would to heaven that I knew what I can do to +obtain the honour of your confidence! + +I told him, that I desired his absence, of all things. I saw not, +I said, that my friends thought it worth their while to give me +disturbance: therefore, if he would set out for London, or Berkshire, or +whither he pleased, it would be most agreeable to me, and most reputable +too. + +He would do so, he said, he intended to do so, the moment I was in a +place to my liking--in a place convenient for me. + +This, Sir, will be so, said I, when you are not here to break in upon +me, and make the apartments inconvenient. + +He did not think this place safe, he replied; and as I intended not to +stay here, he had not been so solicitous, as otherwise he should have +been, to enjoin privacy to his servants, nor to Mrs. Greme at her +leaving me; that there were two or three gentlemen at the neighbourhood, +he said, with whose servants his gossiping fellows had scraped +acquaintance: so that he could not think of leaving me here unguarded +and unattended.--But fix upon any place in England where I could be +out of danger, and he would go to the furthermost part of the king's +dominions, if by doing so he could make me easy. + +I told him plainly that I should never be in humour with myself for +meeting him; nor with him, for seducing me away: that my regrets +increased, instead of diminished: that my reputation was wounded: that +nothing I could do would now retrieve it: and that he must not wonder, +if I every hour grew more and more uneasy both with myself and him: that +upon the whole, I was willing to take care of myself; and when he had +left me, I should best know what to resolve upon, and whither to go. + +He wished, he said, he were at liberty, without giving me offence, or +being thought to intend to infringe the articles I had stipulated and +insisted upon, to make one humble proposal to me. But the sacred regard +he was determined to pay to all my injunctions (reluctantly as I had on +Monday last put it into his power to serve me) would not permit him to +make it, unless I would promise to excuse him, if I did not approve of +it. + +I asked, in some confusion, what he would say? + +He prefaced and paraded on; and then out came, with great diffidence, +and many apologies, and a bashfulness which sat very awkwardly upon him, +a proposal of speedy solemnization: which, he said, would put all right; +and make my first three or four months (which otherwise must be passed +in obscurity and apprehension) a round of visits and visitings to and +from all his relations; to Miss Howe; to whom I pleased: and would pave +the way to the reconciliation I had so much at heart. + +Your advice had great weight with me just then, as well as his reasons, +and the consideration of my unhappy situation: But what could I say? I +wanted somebody to speak for me. + +The man saw I was not angry at his motion. I only blushed; and that I am +sure I did up to the ears; and looked silly, and like a fool. + +He wants not courage. Would he have had me catch at his first, at his +very first word?--I was silent too--and do not the bold sex take silence +for a mark of a favour!--Then, so lately in my father's house! Having +also declared to him in my letters, before I had your advice, that +I would not think of marriage till he had passed through a state of +probation, as I may call it--How was it possible I could encourage, with +very ready signs of approbation, such an early proposal? especially so +soon after the free treatment he had provoked from me. If I were to die, +I could not. + +He looked at me with great confidence; as if (notwithstanding his +contradictory bashfulness) he would look me through; while my eye +but now-and-then could glance at him.--He begged my pardon with great +humility: he was afraid I would think he deserved no other answer, but +that of a contemptuous silence. True love was fearful of offending. +[Take care, Mr. Lovelace, thought I, how your's is tried by that +rule]. Indeed so sacred a regard [foolish man!] would he have to all my +declarations made before I honoured him-- + +I would hear him no further; but withdrew in a confusion too visible, +and left him to make his nonsensical flourishes to himself. + +I will only add, that, if he really wishes for a speedy solemnization, +he never could have had a luckier time to press for my consent to it. +But he let it go off; and indignation has taken place of it. And now it +shall be a point with me, to get him at a distance from me. + +I am, my dearest friend, Your ever faithful and obliged CL. H. + + + + +LETTER XVI + +MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. TUESDAY, APR. 13. + + +Why, Jack, thou needest not make such a wonderment, as the girls say, if +I should have taken large strides already towards reformation: for dost +thou not see, that while I have been so assiduously, night and day, +pursuing this single charmer, I have infinitely less to answer for, +than otherwise I should have had? Let me see, how many days and +nights?--Forty, I believe, after open trenches, spent in the sap only, +and never a mine sprung yet! + +By a moderate computation, a dozen kites might have fallen, while I have +been only trying to ensnare this single lark. Nor yet do I see when +I shall be able to bring her to my lure: more innocent days yet, +therefore!--But reformation for my stalking-horse, I hope, will be a +sure, though a slow method to effect all my purposes. + +Then, Jack, thou wilt have a merit too in engaging my pen, since thy +time would be otherwise worse employed: and, after all, who knows but by +creating new habits, at the expense of the old, a real reformation may +be brought about? I have promised it; and I believe there is a pleasure +to be found in being good, reversing that of Nat. Lee's madman, + + --Which none but good men know. + +By all this, seest thou not how greatly preferable it is, on twenty +accounts, to pursue a difficult rather than an easy chace? I have a +desire to inculcate this pleasure upon thee, and to teach thee to fly at +nobler game than daws, crows, and widgeons: I have a mind to shew thee +from time to time, in the course of the correspondence thou hast so +earnestly wished me to begin on this illustrious occasion, that these +exalted ladies may be abased, and to obviate one of the objections that +thou madest to me, when we were last together, that the pleasure which +attends these nobler aims, remunerates not the pains they bring with +them; since, like a paltry fellow as thou wert, thou assertedst that all +women are alike. + +Thou knowest nothing, Jack, of the delicacies of intrigue: nothing of +the glory of outwitting the witty and the watchful: of the joys that +fill the mind of the inventive or contriving genius, ruminating which +to use of the different webs that offer to him for the entanglement of a +haughty charmer, who in her day has given him unnumbered torments. Thou, +Jack, who, like a dog at his ease, contentest thyself to growl over +a bone thrown out to thee, dost not know the joys of a chace, and in +pursuing a winding game: these I will endeavour to rouse thee to, +and then thou wilt have reason doubly and trebly to thank me, as well +because of thy present delight, as with regard to thy prospect beyond +the moon. + +To this place I had written, purely to amuse myself, before I was +admitted to my charmer. But now I have to tell thee, that I was quite +right in my conjecture, that she would set up for herself, and dismiss +me: for she has declared in so many words that such was her resolution: +And why? Because, to be plain with me, the more she saw of me, and of my +ways, the less she liked of either. + +This cut me to the heart! I did not cry, indeed! Had I been a woman, +I should though, and that most plentifully: but I pulled out a white +cambrick handkerchief: that I could command, but not my tears. + +She finds fault with my protestations, with my professions, with my +vows: I cannot curse a servant, the only privilege a master is known by, +but I am supposed to be a trooper*--I must not say, By my soul! nor, +As I hope to be saved! Why, Jack, how particular this is! Would she not +have me think I have a precious soul, as well as she? If she thinks my +salvation hopeless, what a devil [another exceptionable word!] does she +propose to reform me for? So I have not an ardent expression left me. + + + * See Letter VI. of this volume. + + +***** + + + +What can be done with a woman who is above flattery, and despises all +praise but that which flows from the approbation of her own heart? + +Well, Jack, thou seest it is high time to change my measures. I must run +into the pious a little faster than I had designed. + +What a sad thing it would be, were I, after all, to lose her person, +as well as her opinion! the only time that further acquaintance, and no +blow struck, nor suspicion given, ever lessened me in a lady's favour! +A cursed mortification!--'Tis certain I can have no pretence for holding +her, if she will go. No such thing as force to be used, or so much as +hinted at: Lord send us safe at London!--That's all I have for it now: +and yet it must be the least part of my speech. + +But why will this admirable creature urge her destiny? Why will she defy +the power she is absolutely dependent upon? Why will she still wish to +my face that she had never left her father's house? Why will she deny me +her company, till she makes me lose my patience, and lay myself open +to her resentment? And why, when she is offended, does she carry her +indignation to the utmost length that a scornful beauty, in the very +height of her power and pride, can go? + +Is it prudent, thinkest thou, in her circumstances, to tell me, +repeatedly to tell me, 'That she is every hour more and more +dissatisfied with herself and me? That I am not one who improve upon her +in my conversation and address?' [Couldst thou, Jack, bear this from +a captive!] 'That she shall not be easy while she is with me? That she +knows better than to value herself upon my volubility? That if I think +she deserves the compliments I make her, I may pride myself in those +arts, by which I have made a fool of so extraordinary a person? That +she shall never forgive herself for meeting me, nor me for seducing her +away?' [Her very words.] 'That her regrets increase instead of diminish? +That she will take care of herself; and, since her friends thing it +not worth while to pursue her, she will be left to her own care? That I +shall make Mrs. Sorlings's house more agreeable by my absence?--And go +to Berks, to town, or wherever I will,' [to the devil, I suppose,] 'with +all her heart?' + +The impolitic charmer!--To a temper so vindictive as she thins mine! To +a free-liver, as she believes me to be, who has her in his power! I +was before, as thou knowest, balancing; now this scale, now that, the +heaviest. I only waited to see how her will would work, how mine would +lead me on. Thou seest what bias here takes--And wilt thou doubt +that mine will be determined by it? Were not her faults, before this, +numerous enough? Why will she put me upon looking back? + +I will sit down to argue with myself by-and-by, and thou shalt be +acquainted with the result. + +If thou didst but know, if thou hadst but beheld, what an abject slave +she made me look like!--I had given myself high airs, as she called +them: but they were airs that shewed my love for her: that shewed +I could not live out of her company. But she took me down with a +vengeance! She made me look about me. So much advantage had she over me; +such severe turns upon me; by my soul, Jack, I had hardly a word to say +for myself. I am ashamed to tell thee what a poor creature she made me +look like! But I could have told her something that would have humbled +her pretty pride at the instant, had she been in a proper place, and +proper company about her. + +To such a place then--and where she cannot fly me--And then to see +how my will works, and what can be done with the amorous see-saw; now +humble, now proud; now expecting, or demanding; now submitting, or +acquiescing--till I have tried resistance. + +But these hints are at present enough. I may further explain myself as +I go along; and as I confirm or recede in my future motions. If she +will revive past disobligations! If she will--But no more, no more, as I +said, at present, of threatenings. + + + + +LETTER XVII + +MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. [IN CONTINUATION.] + + +And do I not see that I shall need nothing but patience, in order to +have all power with me? For what shall we say, if all these complaints +of a character wounded; these declarations of increasing regrets for +meeting me; of resentments never to be got over for my seducing her +away; these angry commands to leaver her:--What shall we say, if all +were to mean nothing but MATRIMONY? And what if my forbearing to enter +upon that subject come out to be the true cause of their petulance and +uneasiness! + +I had once before played about the skirts of the irrevocable obligation; +but thought myself obliged to speak in clouds, and to run away from the +subject, as soon as she took my meaning, lest she should imagine it to +be ungenerously urged, now she was in some sort in my power, as she +had forbid me beforehand, to touch upon it, till I were in a state of +visible reformation, and till a reconciliation with her friends were +probable. But now, out-argued, out-talented, and pushed so vehemently to +leave one of whom I had no good pretence to hold, if she would go; and +who could so easily, if I had given her cause to doubt, have thrown +herself into other protection, or have returned to Harlowe-place and +Solmes; I spoke out upon the subject, and offered reasons, although +with infinite doubt and hesitation, [lest she should be offended at +me, Belford!] why she should assent to the legal tie, and make me the +happiest of men. And O how the mantle cheek, the downcast eye, the +silent yet trembling lip, and the heaving bosom, a sweet collection +of heightened beauties, gave evidence that the tender was not mortally +offensive! + +Charming creature! thought I, [but I charge thee, that thou let not +any of the sex know my exultation,*] Is it so soon come to this? Am +I already lord of the destiny of a Clarissa Harlowe? Am I already +the reformed man thou resolvest I should be, before I had the least +encouragement given me? Is it thus, that the more thou knowest me, the +less thou seest reason to approve of me?--And can art and design +enter into a breast so celestial? To banish me from thee, to insist so +rigorously upon my absence, in order to bring me closer to thee, and +make the blessing dear? Well do thy arts justify mine; and encourage me +to let loose my plotting genius upon thee. + + + * Mr. Lovelace might have spared this caution on this occasion, since +many of the sex [we mention it with regret] who on the first publication +had read thus far, and even to the lady's first escape, have been +readier to censure her for over-niceness, as we have observed in a +former note, page 42, than him for artifices and exultations not less +cruel and ungrateful, than ungenerous and unmanly. + + +But let me tell thee, charming maid, if thy wishes are at all to be +answered, that thou hast yet to account to me for thy reluctance to go +off with me, at a crisis when thy going off was necessary to avoid being +forced into the nuptial fetters with a wretch, that, were he not thy +aversion, thou wert no more honest to thy own merit than to me. + +I am accustomed to be preferred, let me tell thee, by thy equals in rank +too, though thy inferiors in merit: But who is not so? And shall I marry +a woman, who has given me reason to doubt the preference she has for me? + +No, my dearest love, I have too sacred a regard for thy injunctions, to +let them be broken through, even by thyself. Nor will I take in thy full +meaning by blushing silence only. Nor shalt thou give me room to doubt, +whether it be necessity or love, that inspires this condescending +impulse. + +Upon these principles, what had I to do but to construe her silence into +contemptuous displeasure? And I begged her pardon for making a motion +which I had so much reason to fear would offend her: for the future I +would pay a sacred regard to her previous injunctions, and prove to +her by all my conduct the truth of that observation, That true love is +always fearful of offending. + +And what could the lady say to this? methinks thou askest. + +Say!--Why she looked vexed, disconcerted, teased; was at a loss, as I +thought, whether to be more angry with herself, or with me. She turned +about, however, as if to hide a starting tear; and drew a sigh into +two or three but just audible quavers, trying to suppress it, and +withdrew--leaving me master of the field. + +Tell me not of politeness; tell me not of generosity; tell me not of +compassion--Is she not a match for me? More than a match? Does she not +outdo me at every fair weapon? Has she not made me doubt her love? Has +she not taken officious pains to declare that she was not averse to +Solmes for any respect she had to me? and her sorrow for putting herself +out of his reach, that is to say, for meeting me? + +Then, what a triumph would it be to the Harlowe pride, were I now to +marry this lady? A family beneath my own! No one in it worthy of an +alliance with but her! My own estate not contemptible! Living within the +bounds of it, to avoid dependence upon their betters, and obliged to no +man living! My expectations still so much more considerable! My person, +my talents--not to be despised, surely--yet rejected by them with scorn. +Obliged to carry on an underhand address to their daughter, when two of +the most considerable families in the kingdom have made overtures, which +I have declined, partly for her sake, and partly because I never will +marry; if she be not the person. To be forced to steal her away, not +only from them, but from herself! And must I be brought to implore +forgiveness and reconciliation from the Harlowes?--Beg to be +acknowledged as the son of a gloomy tyrant, whose only boast is his +riches? As a brother to a wretch, who has conceived immortal hatred to +me; and to a sister who was beneath my attempts, or I would have had her +in my own way, and that with a tenth part of the trouble and pains that +her sister has cost me; and, finally, as a nephew to uncles, who value +themselves upon their acquired fortunes, would insult me as creeping +to them on that account?--Forbid it in the blood of the Lovelaces, that +your last, and, let me say, not the meanest of your stock, should thus +creep, thus fawn, thus lick the dust, for a WIFE--! + +Proceed anon. + + + + +LETTER XVIII + +MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. [IN CONTINUATION.] + + +But is it not the divine CLARISSA [Harlowe let me not say; my soul +spurns them all but her] whom I am thus by application threatening?--If +virtue be the true nobility, how is she ennobled, and how shall an +alliance with her ennoble, were not contempt due to the family from whom +she sprang and prefers to me! + +But again, let me stop.--Is there not something wrong, has there +not been something wrong, in this divine creature? And will not the +reflections upon that wrong (what though it may be construed in my +favour?*) make me unhappy, when novelty has lost its charms, and when, +mind and person, she is all my own? Libertines are nicer, if at all +nice, than other men. They seldom meet with the stand of virtue in +the women whom they attempt. And, by the frailty of those they have +triumphed over, they judge of all the rest. 'Importunity and opportunity +no woman is proof against, especially from the persevering lover, who +knows how to suit temptations to inclinations:' This, thou knowest, is a +prime article of the rake's creed. + + + * The particular attention of such of the fair sex, as are more apt to +read for the same of amusement than instruction, is requested to this +letter of Mr. Lovelace. + + +And what! (methinks thou askest with surprise) Dost thou question this +most admirable of women?--The virtue of a CLARISSA dost thou question? + +I do not, I dare not question it. My reverence for her will not let me +directly question it. But let me, in my turn, ask thee--Is not, may not +her virtue be founded rather in pride than in principle? Whose daughter +is she?--And is she not a daughter? If impeccable, how came she by her +impeccability? The pride of setting an example to her sex has run away +with her hitherto, and may have made her till now invincible. But is not +that pride abated? What may not both men and women be brought to do in a +mortified state? What mind is superior to calamity? Pride is perhaps the +principal bulwark of female virtue. Humble a woman, and may she not be +effectually humbled? + +Then who says Miss Clarissa Harlowe is the paragon of virtue?--Is virtue +itself? + +All who know her, and have heard of her, it will be answered. + +Common bruit!--Is virtue to be established by common bruit only?--Has +her virtue ever been proved?--Who has dared to try her virtue? + +I told thee, I would sit down to argue with myself; and I have drawn +myself into argumentation before I was aware. + +Let me enter into a strict discussion of this subject. + +I know how ungenerous an appearance what I have said, and what I have +further to say, on this topic, will have from me: But am I not bringing +virtue to the touchstone, with a view to exalt it, if it come out to be +proof?--'Avaunt then, for one moment, all consideration that may arise +from a weakness which some would miscall gratitude; and is oftentimes +the corrupter of a heart most ignoble!' + +To the test then--and I will bring this charming creature to the +strictest test, 'that all the sex, who may be shewn any passages in my +letters,' [and I know thou cheerest the hearts of all thy acquaintance +with such detached parts of mine as tend not to dishonour characters +or reveal names: and this gives me an appetite to oblige thee by +interlardment,] 'that all the sex, I say, may see what they ought to be; +what is expected from them; and if they have to deal with a person of +reflection and punctilio, [of pride, if thou wilt,] how careful they +ought to be, by a regular and uniform conduct, not to give him cause to +think lightly of them for favours granted, which may be interpreted into +natural weakness. For is not a wife the keeper of a man's honour? And +do not her faults bring more disgrace upon a husband than even upon +herself?' + +It is not for nothing, Jack, that I have disliked the life of shackles. + +To the test then, as I said, since now I have the question brought home +to me, Whether I am to have a wife? And whether she be to be a wife at +the first or at the second hand? + +I will proceed fairly. I do the dear creature not only strict but +generous justice; for I will try her by her own judgment, as well as by +our principles. + +She blames herself for having corresponded with me, a man of free +character; and one indeed whose first view it was to draw her into this +correspondence; and who succeeded in it by means unknown to herself. + +'Now, what were her inducements to this correspondence?' If not what her +niceness makes her think blameworthy, why does she blame herself? + +Has she been capable of error? Of persisting in that error? + +Whoever was the tempter, that is not the thing; nor what the temptation. +The fact, the error, is now before us. + +Did she persist in it against parental prohibition? + +She owns she did. + +Was a daughter ever known who had higher notions of the filial duty, of +the parental authority? + +Never. + +'What must be the inducements, how strong, that were too strong for +duty, in a daughter so dutiful?--What must my thoughts have been of +these inducements, what my hopes built upon them at the time, taken in +this light?' + +Well, but it will be said, That her principal view was to prevent +mischief between her brother and her other friends, and the man vilely +insulted by them all. + +But why should she be more concerned for the safety of others than they +were for their own? And had not the rencounter then happened? 'Was a +person of virtue to be prevailed upon to break through her apparent, her +acknowledged duty, upon any consideration?' And, if not, was she to be +so prevailed upon to prevent an apprehended evil only? + +Thou, Lovelace, the tempter (thou wilt again break out and say) to be +the accuser! + +But I am not the accuser. I am the arguer only, and, in my heart, +all the time acquit and worship the divine creature. 'But let me, +nevertheless, examine, whether the acquital be owing to her merit, or to +my weakness--Weakness the true name of love!' + +But shall we suppose another motive?--And that is LOVE; a motive which +all the world will excuse her for. 'But let me tell all the world that +do, not because they ought, but because all the world is apt to be +misled by it.' + +Let LOVE then be the motive:--Love of whom? + +A Lovelace, is the answer. + +'Is there but one Lovelace in the world? May not more Lovelaces be +attracted by so fine a figure? By such exalted qualities? It was her +character that drew me to her: and it was her beauty and good sense that +rivetted my chains: and now all together make me think her a subject +worthy of my attempts, worthy of my ambition.' + +But has she had the candour, the openness, to acknowledge that love? + +She has not. + +'Well then, if love be at the bottom, is there not another fault lurking +beneath the shadow of that love?--Has she not affectation?--Or is it +pride of heart?' + +And what results?--'Is then the divine Clarissa capable of loving a man +whom she ought not to love? And is she capable of affectation? And is +her virtue founded in pride?--And, if the answer to these questions be +affirmative, must she not then be a woman?' + +And can she keep this love at bay? Can she make him, who has been +accustomed to triumph over other women, tremble? Can she conduct +herself, as to make him, at times, question whether she loves him or +any man; 'yet not have the requisite command over the passion itself in +steps of the highest consequence to her honour, as she thinks,' [I +am trying her, Jack, by her own thoughts,] 'but suffer herself to be +provoked to promise to abandon her father's house, and go off with +him, knowing his character; and even conditioning not to marry till +improbably and remote contingencies were to come to pass? What though +the provocations were such as would justify any other woman; yet was +a CLARISSA to be susceptible to provocations which she thinks herself +highly censurable for being so much moved by?' + +But let us see the dear creature resolved to revoke her promise, yet +meeting her lover; a bold and intrepid man, who was more than once +before disappointed by her; and who comes, as she knows, prepared to +expect the fruits of her appointment, and resolved to carry her off. +And let us see him actually carrying her off, and having her at +his mercy--'May there not be, I repeat, other Lovelaces; other like +intrepid, persevering enterprizers; although they may not go to work in +the same way? + +'And has then a CLARISSA (herself her judge) failed?--In such great +points failed?--And may she not further fail?--Fail in the greatest +point, to which all the other points, in which she has failed, have but +a natural tendency?' + +Nor say thou, that virtue, in the eye of Heaven, is as much a manly as +a womanly grace. By virtue in this place I mean chastity, and to be +superior to temptation; my Clarissa out of the question. Nor ask thou, +shall the man be guilty, yet expect the woman to be guiltless, and even +unsuspectible? Urge thou not these arguments, I say, since the wife, by +a failure, may do much more injury to the husband, than the husband can +do to the wife, and not only to her husband, but to all his family, by +obtruding another man's children into his possessions, perhaps to the +exclusion of (at least to a participation with) his own; he believing +them all the time to be his. In the eye of Heaven, therefore, the sin +cannot be equal. Besides I have read in some places that the woman was +made for the man, not the man for the woman. Virtue then is less to be +dispensed with in the woman than in the man. + +Thou, Lovelace, (methinks some better man than thyself will say,) to +expect such perfection in a woman! + +Yes, I, may I answer. Was not the great Caesar a great rake as to +women? Was he not called, by his very soldiers, on one of his triumphant +entries into Rome, the bald-pated lecher? and warning given of him to +the wives, as well as to the daughter of his fellow-citizens? Yet did +not Caesar repudiate his wife for being only in company with Clodius, or +rather because Clodius, though by surprise upon her, was found in hers? +And what was the reason he gave for it?--It was this, (though a rake +himself, as I have said,) and only this--The wife of Caesar must not be +suspected!-- + +Caesar was not a prouder man than Lovelace. + +Go to then, Jack; nor say, nor let any body say, in thy hearing, that +Lovelace, a man valuing himself upon his ancestry, is singular in his +expectations of a wife's purity, though not pure himself. + +As to my CLARISSA, I own that I hardly think there ever was such an +angel of a woman. But has she not, as above, already taken steps, which +she herself condemns? Steps, which the world and her own family did +not think her capable of taking? And for which her own family will not +forgive her? + +Nor think it strange, that I refuse to hear any thing pleaded in behalf +of a standard virtue from high provocations. 'Are not provocations and +temptations the tests of virtue? A standard virtue must not be allowed +to be provoked to destroy or annihilate itself. + +'May not then the success of him, who could carry her thus far, be +allowed to be an encouragement for him to try to carry her farther?' +'Tis but to try. Who will be afraid of a trail for this divine creature? +'Thou knowest, that I have more than once, twice, or thrice, put to the +fiery trial young women of name and character; and never yet met +with one who held out a month; nor indeed so long as could puzzle my +invention. I have concluded against the whole sex upon it.' And now, if +I have not found a virtue that cannot be corrupted, I will swear that +there is not one such in the whole sex. Is not then the whole sex +concerned that this trial should be made? And who is it that knows this +lady, that would not stake upon her head the honour of the whole?--Let +her who would refuse it come forth, and desire to stand in her place. + +I must assure thee, that I have a prodigious high opinion of virtue; as +I have of all those graces and excellencies which I have not been +able to attain myself. Every free-liver would not say this, nor think +thus--every argument he uses, condemnatory of his own actions, as some +would think. But ingenuousness was ever a signal part of my character. + +Satan, whom thou mayest, if thou wilt, in this case, call my instigator, +put the good man of old upon the severest trial. 'To his behaviour under +these trials that good man owed his honour and his future rewards.' +An innocent person, if doubted, must wish to be brought to a fair and +candid trial. + +Rinaldo, indeed, in Ariosto, put the Mantua Knight's cup of trial from +him, which was to be the proof of his wife's chastity*--This was his +argument for forbearing the experiment: 'Why should I seek a think I +should be loth to find? My wife is a woman. The sex is frail. I cannot +believe better of her than I do. It will be to my own loss, if I find +reason to think worse.' But Rinaldo would not have refused the trial of +the lady, before she became his wife, and when he might have found his +account in detecting her. + + + * The story tells us, that whoever drank of this cup, if his wife were +chaste, could drink without spilling; if otherwise, the contrary. + + +For my part, I would not have put the cup from me, though married, had +it been but in hope of finding reason to confirm my good opinion of my +wife's honour; and that I might know whether I had a snake or a dove in +my bosom. + +To my point--'What must that virtue be which will not stand a +trial?--What that woman who would wish to shun it?' + +Well, then, a trial seems necessary for the furthest establishment of +the honour of so excellent a creature. + +And who shall put her to this trial? Who, but the man who has, as she +thinks, already induced her in lesser points to swerve?--And this for +her own sake in a double sense--not only, as he has been able to make +some impression, but as she regrets the impression made; and so may be +presumed to be guarded against his further attempts. + +The situation she is at present in, it must be confessed is a +disadvantageous one to her: but, if she overcome, that will redound to +her honour. + +Shun not, therefore, my dear soul, further trials, nor hate me for +making them.--'For what woman can be said to be virtuous till she has +been tried? + +'Nor is one effort, one trial, to be sufficient. Why? Because a woman's +heart may at one time be adamant, at another wax'--as I have often +experienced. And so, no doubt, hast thou. + +A fine time of it, methinks, thou sayest, would the woman have, if they +were all to be tried--! + +But, Jack, I am not for that neither. Though I am a rake, I am not a +rake's friend; except thine and company's. + +And be this one of the morals of my tedious discussion--'Let the little +rogues who would not be put to the question, as I may call it, choose +accordingly. Let them prefer to their favour good honest sober fellows, +who have not been used to play dog's tricks: who will be willing to +take them as they offer; and, who being tolerable themselves, are not +suspicious of others.' + +But what, methinks thou askest, is to become of the lady if she fail? + +What?--Why will she not, 'if once subdued, be always subdued?' +Another of our libertine maxims. And what an immense pleasure to a +marriage-hater, what rapture to thought, to be able to prevail upon such +a woman as Miss Clarissa Harlowe to live with him, without real change +of name! + +But if she resist--if nobly she stand her trial?-- + +Why then I will marry her; and bless my starts for such an angel of a +wife. + +But will she not hate thee?--will she not refuse-- + +No, no, Jack!--Circumstanced and situated as we are, I am not afraid of +that. And hate me! Why should she hate the man who loves her upon proof? + +And then for a little hint at reprisal--am I not justified in my +resolutions of trying her virtue, who is resolved, as I may say, to try +mine? Who has declared that she will not marry me, till she has hopes of +my reformation? + +And now, to put an end to this sober argumentation, Wilt thou not +thyself (whom I have supposed an advocate for the lady, because I know +that Lord M. has put thee upon using the interest he thinks thou hast in +me, to persuade me to enter the pale; wilt thou not thyself) allow me to +try if I cannot awaken the woman in her?--To try if she, with all that +glowing symmetry of parts, and that full bloom of vernal graces, by +which she attracts every eye, be really inflexible as to the grand +article? + +Let me begin then, as opportunity presents--I will; and watch her +every step to find one sliding one; her every moment to find the +moment critical. And the rather, as she spares me not, but takes every +advantage that offers to puzzle and plague me; nor expect nor thinks me +to be a good man. + +If she be a woman, and love me, I shall surely catch her once tripping: +for love was ever a traitor to its harbourer: and love within, and I +without, she will be more than woman, as the poet says, or I less than +man, if I succeed not. + +Now, Belford, all is out. The lady is mine; shall be more mine. +Marriage, I see, is in my power, now she is so. Else perhaps it had not. +If I can have her without marriage, who can blame me for trying? If not, +great will be her glory, and my future confidence. And well will she +merit the sacrifice I shall make her of my liberty; and from all her sex +honours next to divine, for giving a proof, 'that there was once a woman +whose virtue no trials, no stratagems, no temptations, even from the man +she hated not, could overpower.' + +Now wilt thou see all my circulation: as in a glass wilt thou see +it.--CABALA, however, is the word;* nor let the secret escape thee even +in thy dreams. + + + * This word, whenever used by any of these gentlemen, was agreed to imply +an inviolable secret. + + +Nobody doubts that she is to be my wife. Let her pass for such when I +give the word. 'Mean time reformation shall be my stalking-horse; some +one of the women in London, if I can get her hither, my bird.' And so +much for this time. + + + + +LETTER XIX + +MISS HOWE, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE [IN ANSWER TO LETTERS IX. XV.] + + +Do not be so much concerned, my dearest friend, at the bickerings +between my mother and me. We love one another dearly notwithstanding. +If my mother had not me to find fault with, she must find fault with +somebody else. And as to me, I am a very saucy girl; and were not this +occasion, there would be some other, to shew it. + +You have heard me say, that this was always the case between us. +You could not otherwise have known it. For when you was with us, you +harmonized us both; and, indeed, I was always more afraid of you than of +my mother. But then that awe is accompanied with love. Your reproofs, +as I have always found, are so charmingly mild and instructive; so +evidently calculated to improve, and not to provoke; that a generous +temper must be amended by them. But hear now, mind my good mamma, when +you are not with us--You shall, I tell you, Nancy. I will have it so. +Don't I know best, I won't be disobeyed. How can a daughter of spirits +bear such language; such looks too with the language; and not have a +longing mind to disobey? + +Don't advise me, my dear, to subscribe to my mother's prohibition of +correspondence with you. She has no reason for it. Nor would she of her +own judgment have prohibited it. That odd old ambling soul your uncle, +(whose visits are frequenter than ever,) instigated by your malicious +and selfish brother and sister in the occasion. And they have only +borrowed my mother's lips, at the distance they are from you, for a sort +of speaking trumpet for them. The prohibition, once more I say, cannot +come from her heart: But if it did, is so much danger to be apprehended +from my continuing to write to one of my own sex, as if I wrote to one +of the other? Don't let dejection and disappointment, and the course +of oppression which you have run through, weaken your mind, my dearest +creature, and make you see inconveniencies where there possibly cannot +be any. If your talent is scribbling, as you call it; so is mine--and +I will scribble on, at all opportunities; and to you; let them say what +they will. Nor let your letters be filled with the self-accusations you +mention: there is no cause for them. I wish that your Anna Howe, who +continues in her mother's house, were but half so good as Miss Clarissa +Harlowe, who has been driven out of her father's. + +I will say nothing upon your letter to your sister till I see the effect +it will have. You hope, you tell me, that you shall have your money and +clothes sent you, notwithstanding my opinion to the contrary--I am sorry +to have it to acquaint you, that I have just now heard, that they have +sat in council upon your letter; and that your mother was the only +person who was for sending you your things, and was overruled. I +charge you therefore to accept of my offer, as by my last: and give +me particular directions for what you want, that I can supply you with +besides. + +Don't set your thought so much upon a reconciliation as to prevent your +laying hold of any handsome opportunity to give yourself a protector; +such a one as the man will be, who, I imagine, husband-like, will let +nobody insult you but himself. + +What could he mean by letting slip such a one as that you mention? I +don't know how to blame you; for how you go beyond silence and blushes, +when the foolish fellow came with his observances of the restrictions +which you laid him under when in another situation? But, as I told you +above, you really strike people into awe. And, upon my word, you did not +spare him. + +I repeat what I said in my last, that you have a very nice part to act: +and I will add, that you have a mind that is much too delicate for your +part. But when the lover is exalted, the lady must be humbled. He is +naturally proud and saucy. I doubt you must engage his pride, which he +calls his honour: and that you must throw off a little more of the veil. +And I would have you restrain your wishes before him, that you had not +met him, and the like. What signifies wishing, my dear? He will not bear +it. You can hardly expect that he will. + +Nevertheless, it vexed me to the very bottom of my pride, that any +wretch of that sex should be able to triumph over Clarissa. + +I cannot, however, but say, that I am charmed with your spirit. So much +sweetness, where sweetness is requisite; so much spirit, where spirit is +called for--what a true magnanimity! + +But I doubt, in your present circumstances, you must endeavour after a +little more of the reserve, in cases where you are displeased with him, +and palliate a little. That humility which he puts on when you rise upon +him, is not natural to him. + +Methinks I see the man hesitating, and looking like the fool you paint +him, under your corrective superiority!--But he is not a fool. Don't put +him upon mingling resentment with his love. + +You are very serious, my dear, in the first of the two letters before +me, in relation to Mr. Hickman and me; and in relation to my mother and +me. But as to the latter, you must not be too grave. If we are not well +together at one time, we are not ill together at another. And while I am +able to make her smile in the midst of the most angry fit she ever fell +into on the present occasion, (though sometimes she would not if she +could help it,) it is a very good sign; a sign that displeasure can +never go deep, or be lasting. And then a kind word, or kind look, to +her favourite Hickman, sets the one into raptures, and the other in +tolerable humour, at any time. + +But your case pains me at heart; and with all my levity, both the good +folks most sometimes partake of that pain; nor will it be over, as long +as you are in a state of uncertainty; and especially as I was not able +to prevail for that protection for you which would have prevented the +unhappy step, the necessity for which we both, with so much reason, +deplore. + +I have only to add (and yet it is needless to tell you) that I am, and +will ever be, + +Your affectionate friend and servant, ANNA HOWE. + + + + +LETTER XX + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE + + +You tell me, my dear, that my clothes and the little sum of money I left +behind me, will not be sent me.--But I will still hope. It is yet early +days. When their passions subside, they will better consider of the +matter; and especially as I have my ever dear and excellent mother for +my friend in this request! O the sweet indulgence! How has my heart +bled, and how does it still bleed for her! + +You advise me not to depend upon a reconciliation. I do not, I cannot +depend upon it. But nevertheless, it is the wish next my heart. And as +to this man, what can I do? You see, that marriage is not absolutely in +my own power, if I were inclined to prefer it to the trial which I think +I ought to have principally in view to make for a reconciliation. + +You say, he is proud and insolent--indeed he is. But can it be your +opinion, that he intends to humble me down to the level of his mean +pride? + +And what mean you, my dear friend, when you say, that I must throw off +a little more of the veil?--Indeed I never knew that I wore one. Let +me assure you, that if I never see any thing in Mr. Lovelace that looks +like a design to humble me, his insolence shall never make me discover a +weakness unworthy of a person distinguished by your friendship; that is +to say, unworthy either of my sex, or of my former self. + +But I hope, as I am out of all other protection, that he is not capable +of mean or low resentments. If he has had any extraordinary trouble on +my account, may he not thank himself for it? He may; and lay it, if he +pleases, to his character; which, as I have told him, gave at least a +pretence to my brother against him. And then, did I ever make him any +promises? Did I ever profess a love for him? Did I ever wish for the +continuance of his address? Had not my brother's violence precipitated +matters, would not my indifference to him in all likelihood (as I +designed it should) have tired out his proud spirit,* and make him set +out for London, where he used chiefly to reside? And if he had, would +not there have been an end of all his pretensions and hopes? For no +encouragement had I given him; nor did I then correspond with him. +Nor, believe me, should I have begun to do so--the fatal rencounter +not having then happened; which drew me in afterwards for others' sakes +(fool that I was!) and not for my own. And can you think, or can he, +that even this but temporarily-intended correspondence (which, by the +way, my mother* connived at) would have ended thus, had I not been +driven on one hand, and teased on the other, to continue it, the +occasion which had at first induced it continuing? What pretence then +has he, were I to be absolutely in his power, to avenge himself on me +for the faults of others, and through which I have suffered more than +he? It cannot, cannot be, that I should have cause to apprehend him to +be so ungenerous, so bad a man. + + + * See Vol.I. Letter IV. + + +You bid me not to be concerned at the bickerings between your mother and +you. Can I avoid concern, when those bickerings are on my account? That +they are raised (instigated shall I say?) by my uncle, and my other +relations, surely must add to my concern. + +But I must observe, perhaps too critically for the state my mind is in +at present, that the very sentences you give from your mother, as in so +many imperatives, which you take amiss, are very severe reflections upon +yourself. For instance--You shall, I tell you, Nancy, implies that you +had disputed her will--and so of the rest. + +And further let me observe, with respect to what you say, that there +cannot be the same reason for a prohibition of correspondence with me, +as there was of mine with Mr. Lovelace; that I thought as little of bad +consequences from my correspondence with him at the time, as you can do +from yours with me now. But, if obedience be a duty, the breach of it is +a fault, however circumstances may differ. Surely there is no merit in +setting up our own judgment against the judgments of our parents. And +if it is punishable so to do, I have been severely punished; and that is +what I warned you of from my own dear experience. + +Yet, God forgive me! I advise thus against myself with very great +reluctance: and, to say truth, have not strength of mind, at present, to +decline it myself. But, if my occasion go not off, I will take it into +further consideration. + +You give me very good advice in relation to this man; and I thank you +for it. When you bid me be more upon the reserve with him in expressing +my displeasure, perhaps I may try for it: but to palliate, as you call +it, that, my dearest Miss Howe, cannot be done, by + +Your own, CLARISSA HARLOWE. + + + + +LETTER XXI + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE + + +You may believe, my dear Miss Howe, that the circumstances of the noise +and outcry within the garden-door, on Monday last, gave me no small +uneasiness, to think that I was in the hands of a man, who could, by +such vile premeditation, lay a snare to trick me out of myself, as I +have so frequently called it. + +Whenever he came in my sight, the thought of this gave me an indignation +that made his presence disgustful to me; and the more, as I fancied +I beheld in his face a triumph which reproached my weakness on that +account; although perhaps it was only the same vivacity and placidness +that generally sit upon his features. + +I was resolved to task him upon this subject, the first time I could +have patience to enter upon it with him. For, besides that it piqued me +excessively from the nature of the artifice, I expected shuffling and +evasion, if he were guilty, that would have incensed me: and, if not +confessedly guilty, such unsatisfactory declarations as still would have +kept my mind doubtful and uneasy; and would, upon every new offence that +he might give me, sharpen my disgust to me. + +I have had the opportunity I waited for; and will lay before you the +result. + +He was making his court to my good opinion in very polite terms, and +with great seriousness lamenting that he had lost it; declaring, that he +knew not how he had deserved to do so; attributing to me an indifference +to him, that seemed, to his infinite concern, hourly to increase, And +he besought me to let him know my whole mind, that he might have an +opportunity either to confess his faults and amend them, or clear his +conduct to my satisfaction, and thereby entitle himself to a greater +share of my confidence. + +I answered him with quickness--Then, Mr. Lovelace, I will tell you one +thing with a frankness, that is, perhaps, more suitable to my character +than to yours, [He hoped not, he said,] which gives me a very bad +opinion of you, as a designing, artful man. + +I am all attention, Madam. + +I never can think tolerably of you, while the noise and voice I heard at +the garden-door, which put me into the terror you took so much advantage +of, remains unaccounted for. Tell me fairly, tell me candidly, the +whole of that circumstance; and of your dealings with that wicked Joseph +Leman; and, according to your explicitness in this particular, I shall +form a judgment of your future professions. + +I will, without reserve, my dearest life, said he, tell you the whole; +and hope that my sincerity in the relation will atone for any thing you +may think wrong in the fact. + +'I knew nothing, said he, of this man, this Leman, and should have +scorned a resort to so low a method as bribing the servant of any family +to let me into the secrets of that family, if I had not detected him +in attempting to corrupt a servant of mine, to inform him of all my +motions, of all my supposed intrigues, and, in short, of every action +of my private life, as well as of my circumstances and engagements; and +this for motives too obvious to be dwelt upon. + +'My servant told me of his offers, and I ordered him, unknown to the +fellow, to let me hear a conversation that was to pass between them. + +'In the midst of it, and just as he had made an offer of money for a +particular piece of intelligence, promising more when procured, I broke +in upon them, and by bluster, calling for a knife to cut off his ears +(one of which I took hold of) in order to make a present of it, as I +said, to his employers, I obliged him to tell me who they were. + +'Your brother, Madam, and your uncle Antony, he named. + +'It was not difficult, when I had given him my pardon on naming them, +(after I had set before him the enormity of the task he had undertaken, +and the honourableness of my intentions to your dear self,) to prevail +upon him, by a larger reward, to serve me; since, at the same time, he +might preserve the favour of your uncle and brother, as I desired to +know nothing but what related to myself and to you, in order to guard us +both against the effects of an ill-will, which all his fellow-servants, +as well as himself, as he acknowledged, thought undeserved. + +'By this means, I own to you, Madam, I frequently turned his principals +about upon a pivot of my own, unknown to themselves: and the fellow, who +is always calling himself a plain man, and boasting of his conscience, +was the easier, as I condescended frequently to assure him of +my honourable views; and as he knew that the use I made of his +intelligence, in all likelihood, prevented fatal mischiefs. + +'I was the more pleased with his services, as (let me acknowledge +to you, Madam) they procured to you, unknown to yourself, a safe and +uninterrupted egress (which perhaps would not otherwise have been +continued to you so long as it was) to the garden and wood-house: for he +undertook, to them, to watch all your motions: and the more cheerfully, +(for the fellow loves you,) as it kept off the curiosity of others.'* + + + * See Vol.II. Letter XXXVI. + + +So, my dear, it comes out, that I myself was obliged to this deep +contriver. + +I sat in silent astonishment; and thus he went on. + +'As to the circumstance, for which you think so hardly of me, I do +freely confess, that having a suspicion that you would revoke your +intention of getting away, and in that case apprehending that we should +not have the time together that was necessary for that purpose; I had +ordered him to keep off every body he could keep off, and to be himself +within a view of the garden-door; for I was determined, if possible, to +induce you to adhere to your resolution.'-- + +But pray, Sir, interrupting him, how came you to apprehend that I should +revoke my intention? I had indeed deposited a letter to that purpose; +but you had it not: and how, as I had reserved to myself the privilege +of a revocation, did you know, but I might have prevailed upon my +friends, and so have revoked upon good grounds? + +'I will be very ingenuous, Madam--You had made me hope that if you +changed your mind, you would give me a meeting to apprize me of the +reasons for it. I went to the loose bricks, and I saw the letter there: +and as I knew your friends were immovably fixed in their schemes, I +doubted not but the letter was to revoke or suspend your resolution; and +probably to serve instead of a meeting too. I therefore let it lie, that +if you did revoke, you might be under the necessity of meeting me for +the sake of the expectation you had given me: and as I came prepared, I +was resolved, pardon me, Madam, whatever were your intentions, that you +should not go back. Had I taken your letter I must have been determined +by the contents of it, for the present at least: but not having +received it, and you having reason to think I wanted not resolution in +a situation so desperate, to make your friends a personal visit, I +depended upon the interview you had bid me hope for.' + +Wicked wretch, said I; it is my grief, that I gave you opportunity to +take so exact a measure of my weakness!--But would you have presumed to +visit the family, had I not met you? + +Indeed I would. I had some friends in readiness, who were to have +accompanied me to them. And had your father refused to give me audience, +I would have taken my friends with me to Solmes. + +And what did you intend to do to Mr. Solmes? + +Not the least hurt, had the man been passive. + +But had he not been passive, as you call it, what would you have done to +Mr. Solmes? + +He was loth, he said to tell me--yet not the least hurt to his person. + +I repeated my question. + +If he must tell me, he only proposed to carry off the poor fellow, and +to hide him for a month or two. And this he would have done, let what +would have been the consequence. + +Was ever such a wretch heard of!--I sighed from the bottom of my heart; +but bid him proceed from the part I had interrupted him at. + +'I ordered the fellow, as I told you, Madam, said he, to keep within +view of the garden-door: and if he found any parley between us, and any +body coming (before you could retreat undiscovered) whose coming might +be attended with violent effects, he should cry out; and this not only +in order to save himself from their suspicions of him, but to give me +warning to make off, and, if possible, to induce you (I own it, Madam) +to go off with me, according to your own appointment. And I hope all +circumstances considered, and the danger I was in of losing you for +ever, that the acknowledgement of that contrivance, or if you had not +met me, that upon Solmes, will not procure me your hatred: for, had they +come as I expected as well as you, what a despicable wretch had I been, +could I have left you to the insults of a brother and other of your +family, whose mercy was cruelty when they had not the pretence with +which this detected interview would have furnished them!' + +What a wretch! said I.--But if, Sir, taking your own account of this +strange matter to be fact, any body were coming, how happened it, that I +saw only that man Leman (I thought it was he) out at the door, and at a +distance, look after us? + +Very lucky! said he, putting his hand first in one pocket, then in +another--I hope I have not thrown it away--it is, perhaps, in the coat +I had on yesterday--little did I think it would be necessary to be +produced--but I love to come to a demonstration whenever I can--I may +be giddy--I may be heedless. I am indeed--but no man, as to you, Madam, +ever had a sincerer heart. + +He then stepping to the parlour-door, called his servant to bring him +the coat he had on yesterday. + +The servant did. And in the pocket, rumpled up as a paper he regarded +not, he pulled out a letter, written by that Joseph, dated Monday night; +in which 'he begs pardon for crying out so soon--says, That his fears of +being discovered to act on both sides, had made him take the rushing of +a little dog (that always follows him) through the phyllirea-hedge, for +Betty's being at hand, or some of his masters: and that when he found +his mistake, he opened the door by his own key (which the contriving +wretch confessed he had furnished him with) and inconsiderately ran out +in a hurry, to have apprized him that his crying out was owing to his +fright only:' and he added, 'that they were upon the hunt for me, by the +time he returned.* + + + * See his Letter to Joseph Leman, Vol.III. No.III. towards the end, where +he tells him, he would contrive for him a letter of this nature to copy. + + +I shook my head--Deep! deep! deep! said I, at the best!--O Mr. Lovelace! +God forgive and reform you!--But you are, I see plainly, (upon the whole +of your own account,) a very artful, a very designing man. + +Love, my dearest life, is ingenious. Night and day have I racked my +stupid brain [O Sir, thought I, not stupid! 'Twere well perhaps if it +were] to contrive methods to prevent the sacrifice designed to be made +of you, and the mischief that must have ensued upon it: so little hold +in your affections: such undeserved antipathy from your friends: so much +danger of losing you for ever from both causes. I have not had for the +whole fortnight before last Monday, half an hour's rest at a time. And +I own to you, Madam, that I should never have forgiven myself, had I +omitted any contrivance or forethought that would have prevented your +return without me. + +Again I blamed myself for meeting him: and justly; for there were +many chances to one, that I had not met him. And if I had not, all his +fortnight's contrivances, as to me, would have come to nothing; and, +perhaps, I might nevertheless have escaped Solmes. + +Yet, had he resolved to come to Harlowe-place with his friends, and been +insulted, as he certainly would have been, what mischiefs might have +followed! + +But his resolutions to run away with and to hide the poor Solmes for +a month or so, O my dear! what a wretch have I let run away with me, +instead of Solmes! + +I asked him, if he thought such enormities as these, such defiances of +the laws of society, would have passed unpunished? + +He had the assurance to say, with one of his usual gay airs, That he +should by this means have disappointed his enemies, and saved me from a +forced marriage. He had no pleasure in such desperate pushes. Solmes +he would not have personally hurt. He must have fled his country, for a +time at least: and, truly, if he had been obliged to do so, (as all +his hopes of my favour must have been at an end,) he would have had a +fellow-traveller of his own sex out of our family, whom I little thought +of. + +Was ever such a wretch!--To be sure he meant my brother! + +And such, Sir, said I, in high resentment, are the uses you make of your +corrupt intelligencer-- + +My corrupt intelligencer, Madam! interrupted he, He is to this hour your +brother's as well as mine. By what I have ingenuously told you, you may +see who began this corruption. Let me assure you, Madam, that there are +many free things which I have been guilty of as reprisals, in which I +would not have been the aggressor. + +All that I shall further say on this head, Mr. Lovelace, is this: that +as this vile double-faced wretch has probably been the cause of great +mischief on both sides, and still continues, as you own, his wicked +practices, I think it would be but just, to have my friends apprized +what a creature he is whom some of them encourage. + +What you please, Madam, as to that--my service, as well as your +brother's is now almost over for him. The fellow has made a good hand of +it. He does not intend to stay long in his place. He is now actually in +treaty for an inn, which will do his business for life. I can tell +you further, that he makes love to your sister's Betty: and that by my +advice. They will be married when he is established. An innkeeper's +wife is every man's mistress; and I have a scheme in my head to set some +engines at work to make her repent her saucy behaviour to you to the +last day of her life. + +What a wicked schemer you are, Sir!--Who shall avenge upon you the still +greater evils which you have been guilty of? I forgive Betty with all +my heart. She was not my servant; and but too probably, in what she did, +obeyed the commands of her to whom she owed duty, better than I obeyed +those to whom I owed more. + +No matter for that, the wretch said [To be sure, my dear, he must +design to make me afraid of him]: The decree was gone out--Betty must +smart--smart too by an act of her own choice. He loved, he said, to +make bad people their own punishers.--Nay, Madam, excuse me; but if the +fellow, if this Joseph, in your opinion, deserves punishment, mine is +a complicated scheme; a man and his wife cannot well suffer separately, +and it may come home to him too. + +I had no patience with him. I told him so. I see, Sir, said I, I see, +what a man I am with. Your rattle warns me of the snake.--And away I +flung: leaving him seemingly vexed, and in confusion. + + + + +LETTER XXII + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE + + +My plain-dealing with Mr. Lovelace, on seeing him again, and the free +dislike I expressed to his ways, his manners, and his contrivances, as +well as to his speeches, have obliged him to recollect himself a little. +He will have it, that the menaces which he threw out just now against my +brother and Mr. Solmes, are only the effect of an unmeaning pleasantry. +He has too great a stake in his country, he says, to be guilty of such +enterprises as should lay him under a necessity of quitting it for ever. +Twenty things, particularly, he says, he has suffered Joseph Leman to +tell him of, that were not, and could not be true, in order to make +himself formidable in some people's eyes, and this purely with a view +to prevent mischief. He is unhappy, as far as he knows, in a quick +invention; in hitting readily upon expedients; and many things are +reported of him which he never said, and many which he never did, and +others which he has only talked of, (as just now,) and which he has +forgot as soon as the words have passed his lips. + +This may be so, in part, my dear. No one man so young could be so +wicked as he has been reported to be. But such a man at the head of +such wretches as he is said to have at his beck, all men of fortune and +fearlessness, and capable of such enterprises as I have unhappily found +him capable of, what is not to be apprehended from him! + +His carelessness about his character is one of his excuses: a very +bad one. What hope can a woman have of a man who values not his own +reputation?--These gay wretches may, in mixed conversation, divert for +an hour, or so: but the man of probity, the man of virtue, is the man +that is to be the partner for life. What woman, who could help it, would +submit it to the courtesy of a wretch, who avows a disregard to all +moral sanctions, whether he will perform his part of the matrimonial +obligation, and treat her with tolerable politeness? + +With these notions, and with these reflections, to be thrown upon such a +man myself!--Would to Heaven--But what avail wishes now?--To whom can I +fly, if I would fly from him? + + + + +LETTER XXIII + +MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. FRIDAY, APRIL 14. + + +Never did I hear of such a parcel of foolish toads as these +Harlowes!--Why, Belford, the lady must fall, if every hair of her head +were a guardian angel, unless they were to make a visible appearance for +her, or, snatching her from me at unawares, would draw her after them +into the starry regions. + +All I had to apprehend, was, that a daughter, so reluctantly carried +off, would offer terms to her father, and would be accepted upon a +mutual concedence; they to give up Solmes; she to give up me. And so I +was contriving to do all I could to guard against the latter. But they +seem resolved to perfect the work they have begun. + +What stupid creatures are there in the world! This foolish brother not +to know, that he who would be bribed to undertake a base thing by one, +would be over-bribed to retort the baseness; especially when he could be +put into the way to serve himself by both!--Thou, Jack, wilt never know +one half of my contrivances. + + + He here relates the conversation between him and the Lady (upon the + subject of the noise and exclamations his agent made at the garden- + door) to the same effect as in the Lady's Letter, No. XXI. and + proceeds exulting: + +What a capacity for glorious mischief has thy friend!--Yet how near the +truth all of it! The only derivation, my asserting that the fellow +made the noises by mistake, and through fright, and not by previous +direction: had she known the precise truth, her anger, to be so taken +in, would never have let her forgive me. + +Had I been a military hero, I should have made gunpowder useless; for +I should have blown up all my adversaries by dint of stratagem, turning +their own devices upon them. + +But these fathers and mothers--Lord help 'em!--Were not the powers of +nature stronger than those of discretion, and were not that busy dea +bona to afford her genial aids, till tardy prudence qualified parents to +manage their future offspring, how few people would have children! + +James and Arabella may have their motives; but what can be said for a +father acting as this father has acted? What for a mother? What for +an aunt? What for uncles?--Who can have patience with such fellows and +fellowesses? + +Soon will the fair one hear how high their foolish resentments run +against her: and then will she, it is to be hoped, have a little more +confidence in me. Then will I be jealous that she loves me not with the +preference my heart builds upon: then will I bring her to confessions +of grateful love: and then will I kiss her when I please; and not stand +trembling, as now, like a hungry hound, who sees a delicious morsel +within his reach, (the froth hanging upon his vermilion jaws,) yet dares +not leap at it for his life. + +But I was originally a bashful mortal. Indeed I am bashful still with +regard to this lady--Bashful, yet know the sex so well!--But that indeed +is the reason that I know it so well:--For, Jack, I have had abundant +cause, when I have looked into myself, by way of comparison with the +other sex, to conclude that a bashful man has a good deal of the soul of +a woman; and so, like Tiresias, can tell what they think, and what they +drive at, as well as themselves. + +The modest ones and I, particularly, are pretty much upon a par. The +difference between us is only, what they think, I act. But the immodest +ones out-do the worst of us by a bar's length, both in thinking and +acting. + +One argument let me plead in proof of my assertion; That even we rakes +love modesty in a woman; while the modest woman, as they are accounted, +(that is to say, the slyest,) love, and generally prefer, an impudent +man. Whence can this be, but from a likeness in nature? And this made +the poet say, That ever woman is a rake in her heart. It concerns them, +by their actions, to prove the contrary, if they can. + +Thus have I read in some of the philosophers, That no wickedness is +comparable to the wickedness of a woman.* Canst thou tell me, Jack, who +says this? Was it Socrates? for he had the devil of a wife--Or who? Or +is it Solomon?--King Solomon--Thou remembrest to have read of such a +king, dost thou not? SOL-O-MON, I learned, in my infant state [my mother +was a good woman] to answer, when asked, Who was the wisest man?--But my +indulgent questioner never asked me how he came by the uninspired part +of his wisdom. + + + * Mr. Lovelace is as much out in his conjecture of Solomon, as of +Socrates. The passage is in Ecclesiasticus, chap. xxv. + + +Come, come, Jack, you and I are not so very bad, could we but stop where +we are. + + + He then gives the particulars of what passed between him and the Lady on + his menaces relating to her brother and Mr. Solmes, and of his design + to punish Betty Barnes and Joseph Leman. + + + + +LETTER XXIV + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE FRIDAY, APR. 14. + + +I will now give you the particulars of a conversation that has just +passed between Mr. Lovelace and me, which I must call agreeable. + +It began with his telling me, that he had just received intelligence +that my friends were on a sudden come to a resolution to lay aside all +thoughts of pursuing me, or of getting me back: and that therefore he +attended me to know of my pleasure; and what I would do, or have him do? + +I told him, that I would have him leave me directly; and that, when it +was known to every body that I was absolutely independent of him, it +would pass, that I had left my father's house because of my brother's +ill usage of me: which was a plea that I might make with justice, and to +the excuse of my father, as well as of myself. + +He mildly replied, that if we could be certain that my relations would +adhere to this their new resolution, he could have no objection, since +such was my pleasure; but, as he was well assured that they had taken it +only from apprehensions, that a more active one might involve my brother +(who had breathed nothing but revenge) in some fatal misfortune, there +was too much reason to believe that they would resume their former +purpose the moment they should think they safely might. + +This, Madam, said he, is a risque I cannot run. You would think it +strange if I could. And yet, as soon as I knew they had so given out, I +thought it proper to apprize you of it, and take your commands upon it. + +Let me hear, said I, (willing to try if he had any particular view,) +what you think most advisable? + +'Tis very easy to say that, if I durst--if I might not offend you--if it +were not to break conditions that shall be inviolable with me. + +Say then, Sir, what you would say. I can approve or disapprove, as I +think fit. + +Had not the man a fine opportunity here to speak out?--He had. And thus +he used it. + +To wave, Madam, what I would say till I have more courage to speak +out [More courage,--Mr. Lovelace more courage, my dear!]--I will only +propose what I think will be most agreeable to you--suppose, if you +choose not to go to Lady Betty's, that you take a turn cross the country +to Windsor? + +Why to Windsor? + +Because it is a pleasant place: because it lies in the way either to +Berkshire, to Oxford, or to London: Berkshire, where Lord M. is at +present: Oxford, in the neighbourhood of which lives Lady Betty: London, +whither you may retire at your pleasure: or, if you will have it so, +whither I may go, you staying at Windsor; and yet be within an easy +distance of you, if any thing should happen, or if your friends should +change their new-taken resolution. + +This proposal, however, displeased me not. But I said, my only objection +was, the distance of Windsor from Miss Howe, of whom I should be glad to +be always within two or three hours reach of by messenger, if possible. + +If I had thoughts of any other place than Windsor, or nearer to +Miss Howe, he wanted but my commands, and would seek for proper +accommodations: but, fix as I pleased, farther or nearer, he had +servants, and they had nothing else to do but to obey me. + +A grateful thing then he named to me--To send for my Hannah, as soon as +I shall be fixed;* unless I would choose one of the young gentlewomen +here to attend me; both of whom, as I had acknowledged, were very +obliging; and he knew I had generosity enough to make it worth their +while. + + + * See his reasons for proposing Windsor, Letter XXV.--and her Hannah, +Letter XXVI. + + +This of Hannah, he might see, I took very well. I said I had thoughts +of sending for her, as soon as I got to more convenient lodgings. As to +these young gentlewomen, it were pity to break in upon that usefulness +which the whole family were of to each other; each having her proper +part, and performing it with an agreeable alacrity: insomuch, that I +liked them all so well, that I could even pass my days among them, were +he to leave me; by which means the lodgings would be more convenient to +me than now they were. + +He need not repeat his objections to this place, he said: but as to +going to Windsor, or wherever else I thought fit, or as to his personal +attendance, or leaving me, he would assure me (he very agreeably said) +that I could propose nothing in which I thought my reputation, and even +my punctilio, concerned, that he would not cheerfully come into. And +since I was so much taken up with my pen, he would instantly order his +horse to be got ready, and would set out. + +Not to be off my caution. Have you any acquaintance at Windsor? said +I.--Know you of any convenient lodgings there? + +Except the forest, replied he, where I have often hunted, I know the +least of Windsor of any place so noted and so pleasant. Indeed I have +not a single acquaintance there. + +Upon the whole, I told him, that I thought his proposal of Windsor, not +amiss; and that I would remove thither, if I could get a lodging only +for myself, and an upper chamber for Hannah; for that my stock of money +was but small, as was easy to be conceived and I should be very loth to +be obliged to any body. I added, that the sooner I removed the better; +for that then he could have no objection to go to London, or Berkshire, +as he pleased: and I should let every body know my independence. + +He again proposed himself, in very polite terms, for my banker. But I, +as civilly, declined his offer. + +This conversation was to be, all of it, in the main, agreeable. He asked +whether I would choose to lodge in the town of Windsor, or out of it? + +As near the castle, I said, as possible, for the convenience of going +constantly to the public worship; an opportunity I had been very long +deprived of. + +He should be very glad, he told me, if he could procure me +accommodations in any one of the canon's houses; which he imagined would +be more agreeable to me than any other, on many accounts. And as he +could depend upon my promise, Never to have any other man but himself, +on the condition to which he had so cheerfully subscribed, he should be +easy; since it was now his part, in earnest, to set about recommending +himself to my favour, by the only way he knew it would be done. Adding, +with a very serious air--I am but a young man, Madam; but I have run a +long course: let not your purity of mind incline you to despise me for +the acknowledgement. It is high time to be weary of it, and to reform; +since, like Solomon, I can say, There is nothing new under the sun: but +that it is my belief, that a life of virtue can afford such pleasures, +on reflection, as will be for ever blooming, for ever new! + +I was agreeably surprised. I looked at him, I believe, as if I doubted +my ears and my eyes. His aspect however became his words. + +I expressed my satisfaction in terms so agreeable to him, that he said, +he found a delight in this early dawning of a better day to him, and in +my approbation, which he had never received from the success of the most +favoured of his pursuits. + +Surely, my dear, the man must be in earnest. He could not have said +this; he could not have thought it, had he not. What followed made me +still readier to believe him. + +In the midst of my wild vagaries, said he, I have ever preserved a +reverence for religion, and for religious men. I always called another +cause, when any of my libertine companions, in pursuance of Lord +Shaftesbury's test (which is a part of the rake's creed, and what I +may call the whetstone of infidelity,) endeavoured to turn the sacred +subject into ridicule. On this very account I have been called by good +men of the clergy, who nevertheless would have it that I was a practical +rake, the decent rake: and indeed I had too much pride in my shame, to +disown the name of rake. + +This, Madam, I am the readier to confess, as it may give you hope, that +the generous task of my reformation, which I flatter myself you will +have the goodness to undertake, will not be so difficult a one as you +may have imagined; for it has afforded me some pleasure in my retired +hours, when a temporary remorse has struck me for any thing I have done +amiss, that I should one day delight in another course of life: for, +unless we can, I dare say, no durable good is to be expected from the +endeavour. Your example, Madam, must do all, must confirm all.* + + + * That he proposes one day to reform, and that he has sometimes good +motions, see Vol.I. Letter XXXIV. + + +The divine grace, or favour, Mr. Lovelace, must do all, and confirm +all. You know not how much you please me, that I can talk to you in this +dialect. + +And I then thought of his generosity to his pretty rustic; and of his +kindness to his tenants. + +Yet, Madam, be pleased to remember one thing; reformation cannot be a +sudden work. I have infinite vivacity: it is that which runs away with +me. Judge, dearest Madam, by what I am going to confess, that I have +a prodigious way to journey on, before a good person will think me +tolerable; since though I have read in some of our perfectionists enough +to make a better man than myself either run into madness or despair +about the grace you mention, yet I cannot enter into the meaning of the +word, nor into the modus of its operation. Let me not then be checked, +when I mention your example for my visible reliance; and instead of +using such words, till I can better understand them, suppose all the +rest included in the profession of that reliance. + +I told him, that, although I was somewhat concerned at his expression, +and surprised at so much darkness, as (for want of another word) I would +call it, in a man of his talents and learning, yet I was pleased with +his ingenuousness. I wished him to encourage this way of thinking. I +told him, that his observation, that no durable good was to be expected +from any new course, where there was not a delight taken in it, was just; +but that the delight would follow by use. + +And twenty things of this sort I even preached to him; taking care, +however, not to be tedious, nor to let my expanded heart give him a +contracted or impatient blow. And, indeed, he took visible pleasure in +what I said, and even hung upon the subject, when I, to try him, once +or twice, seemed ready to drop it: and proceeded to give me a most +agreeable instance, that he could at times think both deeply and +seriously.--Thus it was. + +He was once, he said, dangerously wounded in a duel, in the left arm, +baring it, to shew me the scar: that this (notwithstanding a great +effusion of blood, it being upon an artery) was followed by a violent +fever, which at last fixed upon his spirits; and that so obstinately, +that neither did he desire life, nor his friends expect it: that, for a +month together, his heart, as he thought, was so totally changed, that +he despised his former courses, and particularly that rashness which had +brought him to the state he was in, and his antagonist (who, however, +was the aggressor) into a much worse: that in this space he had thought +which at times still gave him pleasure to reflect upon: and although +these promising prospects changed, as he recovered health and spirits, +yet he parted with them with so much reluctance, that he could not help +shewing it in a copy of verses, truly blank ones, he said; some of which +he repeated, and (advantaged by the grace which he gives to every thing +he repeats) I thought them very tolerable ones; the sentiments, however, +much graver than I expected from him. + +He has promised me a copy of the lines; and then I shall judge better +of their merit; and so shall you. The tendency of them was, 'That, since +sickness only gave him a proper train of thinking, and that his restored +health brought with it a return to his evil habits, he was ready to +renounce those gifts of nature for those of contemplation.' + +He farther declared, that although these good motions went off (as +he had owned) on his recovery, yet he had better hopes now, from +the influence of my example, and from the reward before him, if he +persevered: and that he was the more hopeful that he should, as his +present resolution was made in a full tide of health and spirits; and +when he had nothing to wish for but perseverance, to entitle himself to +my favour. + +I will not throw cold water, Mr. Lovelace, said I, on a rising flame: +but look to it! for I shall endeavour to keep you up to this spirit. I +shall measure your value of me by this test: and I would have you bear +those charming lines of Mr. Rowe for ever in your mind; you, who have, +by your own confession, so much to repent of; and as the scar, indeed, +you shewed me, will, in one instance, remind you to your dying day. + +The lines, my dear, are from the poet's Ulysses; you have heard me often +admire them; and I repeated them to him: + + Habitual evils change not on a sudden: + But many days must pass, and many sorrows; + Conscious remorse and anguish must be felt, + To curb desire, to break the stubborn will, + And work a second nature in the soul, + Ere Virtue can resume the place she lost: + 'Tis else dissimulation-- + +He had often read these lines, he said; but never tasted them +before.--By his soul, (the unmortified creature swore,) and as he hoped +to be saved, he was now in earnest in his good resolutions. He had said, +before I repeated those lines from Rowe, that habitual evils could +not be changed on a sudden: but he hoped he should not be thought a +dissembler, if he were not enabled to hold his good purposes; since +ingratitude and dissimulation were vices that of all others he abhorred. + +May you ever abhor them, said I. They are the most odious of all vices. + +I hope, my dear Miss Howe, I shall not have occasion, in my future +letters, to contradict these promising appearances. Should I have +nothing on his side to combat with, I shall be very far from being +happy, from the sense of my fault, and the indignation of all my +relations. So shall not fail of condign punishment for it, from my +inward remorse on account of my forfeited character. But the least ray +of hope could not dart in upon me, without my being willing to lay hold +of the very first opportunity to communicate it to you, who take so +generous a share in all my concerns. + +Nevertheless, you may depend upon it, my dear, that these agreeable +assurances, and hopes of his begun reformation, shall not make me forget +my caution. Not that I think, at worst, any more than you, that he dare +to harbour a thought injurious to my honour: but he is very various, +and there is an apparent, and even an acknowledged unfixedness in his +temper, which at times gives me uneasiness. I am resolved therefore to +keep him at a distance from my person and my thoughts, as much as I can: +for whether all men are or are not encroachers, I am sure Mr. Lovelace +is one. + +Hence it is that I have always cast about, and will continue to cast +about, what ends he may have in view from this proposal, or from that +report. In a word, though hopeful of the best, I will always be fearful +of the worst, in every thing that admits of doubt. For it is better, in +such a situation as mine, to apprehend without cause, than to subject +myself to surprise for want of forethought. + +Mr. Lovelace is gone to Windsor, having left two servants to attend me. +He purposes to be back to-morrow. + +I have written to my aunt Hervey, to supplicate her interest in my +behalf, for my clothes, books, and money; signifying to her, 'That, if I +may be restored to the favour of my family, and allowed a negative only, +as to any man who may be proposed to me, and be used like a daughter, +a niece, and a sister, I will stand by my offer to live single, +and submit, as I ought, to a negative from my father.' Intimating, +nevertheless, 'That it were perhaps better, after the usage I have +received from my brother and sister, that I may be allowed to be distant +from them, as well for their sakes as for my own,' (meaning, as I +suppose it will be taken, at my Dairy-house)--offering, 'to take my +father's directions as to the manner I shall live in, the servants I +shall have, and in every thing that shall shew the dutiful subordination +to which I am willing to conform.' + +My aunt will know by my letter to my sister how to direct to me, if she +be permitted to favour me with a line. + +I am equally earnest with her in this letter, as I was with my sister +in that I wrote to her, to obtain for me a speedy reconciliation, that I +not be further precipitated; intimating, 'That, by a timely lenity, all +may pass for a misunderstanding only, which, otherwise, will be thought +equally disgraceful to them, and to me; appealing to her for the +necessity I was under to do what I did.'-- + +Had I owned that I was overreached, and forced away against my +intention, might they not, as a proof of the truth of my assertion, have +insisted upon my immediate return to them? And, if I did not return, +would they not have reason to suppose, that I had now altered my mind +(if such were my mind) or had not the power to return?--Then were I +to have gone back, must it not have been upon their own terms? No +conditioning with a father! is a maxim with my father, and with my +uncles. If I would have gone, Mr. Lovelace would have opposed it. So I +must have been under his controul, or have run away from him, as it is +supposed I did to him, from Harlowe-place. In what a giddy light would +this have made me appear!--Had he constrained me, could I have +appealed to my friends for their protection, without risking the very +consequences, to prevent which (setting up myself presumptuously, as a +middle person between flaming spirits,) I have run into such terrible +inconveniencies. + +But, after all, must it not give me great anguish of mind, to be forced +to sanctify, as I may say, by my seeming after-approbation, a measure +I was so artfully tricked into, and which I was so much resolved not to +take? + +How one evil brings on another, is sorrowfully witnessed to by + +Your ever-obliged and affectionate, CL. HARLOWE. + + + + +LETTER XXV + +MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. FRIDAY, APR. 14. + + +Thou hast often reproached me, Jack, with my vanity, without +distinguishing the humourous turn that accompanies it; and for which, at +the same time that thou robbest me of the merit of it thou admirest +me highly. Envy gives thee the indistinction: Nature inspires the +admiration: unknown to thyself it inspires it. But thou art too clumsy +and too short-sighted a mortal, to know how to account even for the +impulses by which thou thyself art moved. + +Well, but this acquits thee not of my charge of vanity, Lovelace, +methinks thou sayest. + +And true thou sayest: for I have indeed a confounded parcel of it. But, +if men of parts may not be allowed to be in vain, who should! and yet, +upon second thoughts, men of parts have the least occasion of any to be +vain; since the world (so few of them are there in it) are ready to find +them out, and extol them. If a fool can be made sensible that there is +a man who has more understanding than himself, he is ready enough to +conclude, that such a man must be a very extraordinary creature. + +And what, at this rate, is the general conclusion to be drawn from the +premises?--Is it not, That no man ought to be vain? But what if a man +can't help it!--This, perhaps, may be my case. But there is nothing upon +which I value myself so much as upon my inventions. And for the soul of +me, I cannot help letting it be seen, that I do. Yet this vanity may be +a mean, perhaps, to overthrow me with this sagacious lady. + +She is very apprehensive of me I see. I have studied before her and Miss +Howe, as often as I have been with them, to pass for a giddy thoughtless +creature. What a folly then to be so expatiatingly sincere, in my answer +to her home put, upon the noises within the garden?--But such success +having attended that contrivance [success, Jack, has blown many a man +up!] my cursed vanity got uppermost, and kept down my caution. The +menace to have secreted Solmes, and that other, that I had thoughts to +run away with her foolish brother, and of my project to revenge her upon +the two servants, so much terrified the dear creature, that I was forced +to sit down to muse after means to put myself right in her opinion. + +Some favourable incidents, at the time, tumbled in from my agent in +her family; at least such as I was determined to make favourable: and +therefore I desired admittance; and this before she could resolve any +thing against me; that is to say, while her admiration of my intrepidity +kept resolution in suspense. + +Accordingly, I prepared myself to be all gentleness, all obligingness, +all serenity; and as I have now and then, and always had, more or less, +good motions pop up in my mind, I encouraged and collected every thing +of this sort that I had ever had from novicehood to maturity, [not long +in recollecting, Jack,] in order to bring the dear creature into +good humour with me:* And who knows, thought I, if I can hold it, and +proceed, but I may be able to lay a foundation fit to build my grand +scheme upon!--LOVE, thought I, is not naturally a doubter: FEAR is, +I will try to banish the latter: nothing then but love will remain. +CREDULITY is the God of Love's prime minister, and they never are +asunder. + + + * He had said, Letter XVIII. that he would make reformation + his stalking-horse, &c. + + + He then acquaints his friend with what passed between him + and the Lady, in relation to his advices from Harlowe- + place, and to his proposal about lodgings, pretty much to + the same purpose as in her preceding Letter. + + When he cones to mention his proposal of the Windsor + lodgings, thus heexpresses himself: + +Now, Belford, can it enter into thy leaden head, what I meant by this +proposal!--I know it cannot. And so I'll tell thee. + +To leave her for a day or two, with a view to serve her by my absence, +would, as I thought, look like a confiding in her favour. I could not +think of leaving her, thou knowest, while I had reason to believe her +friends would pursue us; and I began to apprehend that she would suspect +that I made a pretence of that intentional pursuit to keep about her and +with her. But now that they had declared against it, and that they would +not receive her if she went back, (a declaration she had better hear +first from me, than from Miss Howe, or any other,) what should hinder me +from giving her this mark of my obedience; especially as I could leave +Will, who is a clever fellow, and can do any thing but write and spell, +and Lord M.'s Jonas (not as guards, to be sure, but as attendants only); +the latter to be dispatched to me occasionally by the former, whom I +could acquaint with my motions? + +Then I wanted to inform myself, why I had not congratulatory letters +from Lady Sarah and Lady Betty, and from my cousins Montague, to whom I +had written, glorying in my beloved's escape; which letters, if properly +worded, might be made necessary to shew her as matters proceed. + +As to Windsor, I had no design to carry her particularly thither: but +somewhere it was proper to name, as she condescended to ask my advice +about it. London, I durst not; but very cautiously; and so as to make it +her own option: for I must tell thee, that there is such a perverseness +in the sex, that when they ask your advice, they do it only to know your +opinion, that they may oppose it; though, had not the thing in question +been your choice, perhaps it had been theirs. + +I could easily give reasons against Windsor, after I had pretended to +be there; and this would have looked the better, as it was a place of +my own nomination; and shewn her that I had no fixed scheme. Never was +there in woman such a sagacious, such an all-alive apprehension, as in +this. Yet it is a grievous thing to an honest man to be suspected. + +Then, in my going or return, I can call upon Mrs. Greme. She and my +beloved had a great deal of talk together. If I knew what it was about; +and that either, upon their first acquaintance, was for benefiting +herself by the other; I might contrive to serve them both, without +hurting myself: for these are the most prudent ways of doing +friendships, and what are not followed by regrets, though the served +should prove ingrateful. Then Mrs. Greme corresponds by pen-and-ink with +her farmer-sister where we are: something may possibly arise that way, +either of a convenient nature, which I may pursue; or of an inconvenient +nature, which I may avoid. + +Always be careful of back doors, is a maxim with me in all my exploits. +Whoever knows me, knows that I am no proud man. I can talk as familiarly +to servants as to principals, when I have a mind to make it worth their +while to oblige me in any thing. Then servants are but as the common +soldiers in an army, they do all the mischief frequently without malice, +and merely, good souls! for mischief-sake. + +I am most apprehensive about Miss Howe. She has a confounded deal of +wit, and wants only a subject, to shew as much roguery: and should I +be outwitted with all my sententious boasting of conceit of my own +nostrum-mongership--[I love to plague thee, who art a pretender to +accuracy, and a surface-skimmer in learning, with out-of-the-way words +and phrases] I should certainly hang, drown, or shoot myself. + +Poor Hickman! I pity him for the prospect he has with such a virago! But +the fellow's a fool, God wot! And now I think of it, it is absolutely +necessary for complete happiness in the married state, that one should +be a fool [an argument I once held with this very Miss Howe.] But then +the fool should know the other's superiority; otherwise the obstinate +one will disappoint the wise one. + +But my agent Joseph has helped me to secure this quarter, as I have +hinted to thee more than once. + + + + +LETTER XXVI + +MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. [IN CONTINUATION.] + + +But is it not a confounded thing that I cannot fasten an obligation upon +this proud beauty? I have two motives in endeavouring to prevail upon +her to accept of money and raiment from me: one; the real pleasure I +should have in the accommodating of the haughty maid; and to think there +was something near her, and upon her, that I could call mine: the other, +in order to abate her severity and humble her a little. + +Nothing more effectually brings down a proud spirit, than a sense of +lying under pecuniary obligations. This has always made me solicitous +to avoid laying myself under any such: yet, sometimes, formerly, have +I been put to it, and cursed the tardy resolution of the quarterly +periods. And yet I ever made shift to avoid anticipation: I never would +eat the calf in the cow's belly, as Lord M.'s phrase is: for what is +that, but to hold our lands upon tenant-courtesy, the vilest of all +tenures? To be denied a fox-chace, for breaking down a fence upon my own +grounds? To be clamoured at for repairs studied for, rather than really +wanted? To be prated to by a bumpkin with his hat on, and his arms +folded, as if he defied your expectations of that sort; his foot firmly +fixed, as if upon his own ground, and you forced to take his arch leers, +and stupid gybes; he intimating, by the whole of his conduct, that he +had had it in his power to oblige you, and, if you behave civilly, may +oblige you again? I, who think I have a right to break every man's head +I pass by, if I like not his looks, to bear this!--No more could I do +it, then I could borrow of an insolent uncle, or inquisitive aunt, who +would thence think themselves entitled to have an account of all my life +and actions laid before them for their review and censure. + +My charmer, I see, has a pride like my own: but she has no distinction +in her pride: nor knows the pretty fool that there is nothing nobler, +nothing more delightful, than for loves to be conferring and receiving +obligations from each other. In this very farm-yard, to give thee a +familiar instance, I have more than once seen this remark illustrated. A +strutting rascal of a cock have I beheld chuck, chuck, chuck, chuck-ing +his mistress to him, when he has found a single barley-corn, taking it +up with his bill, and letting it drop five or six times, still repeating +his chucking invitation: and when two or three of his feathered ladies +strive who shall be the first for it [O Jack! a cock is a grand signor +of a bird!] he directs the bill of the foremost to it; and when she has +got the dirty pearl, he struts over her with an erected crest, cling +round her with dropt wings, sweeping the dust in humble courtship: while +the obliged she, half-shy, half-willing, by her cowering tail, prepared +wings, yet seemingly affrighted eyes, and contracted neck, lets one see +that she knows the barley-corn was not all he called her for. + + + When he comes to that part of his narrative, where he + mentions of the proposing of the Lady's maid Hannah, or one + of the young Sorlings, to attend her, thus he writes: + +Now, Belford, canst thou imagine what I meant by proposing Hannah, or +one of the girls here, for her attendant? I'll give thee a month to +guess. + +Thou wilt not pretend to guess, thou say'st. + +Well, then I'll tell thee. + +Believing she would certainly propose to have that favourite wench about +her, as soon as she was a little settled, I had caused the girl to be +inquired after, with an intent to make interest, some how or other, that +a month's warning should be insisted on by her master or mistress, or by +some other means, which I had not determined upon, to prevent her coming +to her. But fortune fights for me. The wench is luckily ill; a violent +rheumatic disorder, which has obliged her to leave her place, confines +her to her chamber. Poor Hannah! How I pity the girl! These things are +very hard upon industrious servants!--I intend to make the poor wench a +small present on the occasion--I know it will oblige my charmer. + +And so, Jack, pretending not to know any thing of the matter, I pressed +her to send for Hannah. She knew I had always a regard for this servant, +because of her honest love to her lady: but now I have greater regard +for her than ever. Calamity, though a poor servant's calamity, will +rather increase than diminish good will, with a truly generous master or +mistress. + +As to one of the young Sorling's attendance, there was nothing at all +in proposing that; for if either of them had been chosen by her, and +permitted by the mother [two chances in that!] it would have been only +till I had fixed upon another. And, if afterwards they had been loth to +part, I could easily have given my beloved to a jealousy, which would +have done the business; or to the girl, who would have quitted her +country dairy, such a relish for a London one, and as would have made +it very convenient for her to fall in love with Will; or perhaps I could +have done still better for her with Lord M.'s chaplain, who is very +desirous of standing well with his lord's presumptive heir. + +A blessing on thy honest heart, Lovelace! thou'lt say; for thou art for +providing for every body! + + + He gives an account of the serious part of their + conversation, with no great variation from the Lady's + account of it: and when he comes to that part of it, where + he bids her remember, that reformation cannot be a sudden + thing, he asks his friend: + +Is not this fair play? Is it not dealing ingenuously? Then the +observation, I will be bold to say, is founded in truth and nature. But +there was a little touch of policy in it besides; that the lady, if I +should fly out again, should not think me too gross an hypocrite: for, +as I plainly told her, I was afraid, that my fits of reformation were +but fits and sallies; but I hoped her example would fix them into +habits. But it is so discouraging a thing to have my monitress so +very good!--I protest I know not how to look up at her! Now, as I am +thinking, if I could pull her down a little nearer to my own level; +that is to say, could prevail upon her to do something that would +argue imperfection, something to repent of; we should jog on much +more equally, and be better able to comprehend one another: and so the +comfort would be mutual, and the remorse not all on one side. + + + He acknowledges that he was greatly affected and pleased + with the Lady's serious arguments at the time: but even then + was apprehensive that his temper would not hold. Thus he + writes: + +This lady says serious things in so agreeable a manner (and then her +voice is all harmony when she touches a subject she is pleased with) +that I could have listened to her for half a day together. But yet I am +afraid, if she falls, as they call it, she will lose a good deal of that +pathos, of that noble self-confidence, which gives a good person, as I +now see, a visible superiority over one not so good. + +But, after all, Belford, I would fain know why people call such +free-livers as you and me hypocrites.--That's a word I hate; and should +take it very ill to be called by it. For myself, I have as good motions, +and, perhaps, have them as frequently as any body: all the business is, +they don't hold; or, to speak more in character, I don't take the care +some do to conceal my lapses. + + + + +LETTER XXVII + +MISS HOWE, TO MIS CLARISSA HARLOWE SATURDAY, APRIL 15. + + +Though pretty much pressed in time, and oppressed by my mother's +watchfulness, I will write a few lines upon the new light that has +broken in upon your gentleman; and send it by a particular hand. + +I know not what to think of him upon it. He talks well; but judge him +by Rowe's lines, he is certainly a dissembler, odious as the sin of +hypocrisy, and, as he says, that other of ingratitude, are to him. + +And, pray, my dear, let me ask, could he have triumphed, as it is said +he has done, over so many of our sex, had he not been egregiously guilty +of both sins? + +His ingenuousness is the thing that staggers me: yet is he cunning +enough to know, that whoever accuses him first, blunts the edge of an +adversary's accusation. + +He is certainly a man of sense: there is more hope of such a one than a +fool: and there must be a beginning to a reformation. These I will allow +in his favour. + +But this, that follows, I think, is the only way to judge of his +specious confessions and self-accusations--Does he confess any thing +that you knew not before, or that you are not likely to find out from +others?--If nothing else, what does he confess to his own disadvantage? +You have heard of his duels: you have heard of his seductions.--All +the world has. He owns, therefore, what it would be to no purpose to +conceal; and his ingenuousness is a salvo--'Why, this, Madam, is no more +than Mr. Lovelace himself acknowledges.' + +Well, but what is now to be done?--You must make the best of your +situation: and as you say, so he has proposed to you of Windsor, and his +canon's house. His readiness to leave you, and go himself in quest of +a lodging, likewise looks well. And I think there is nothing can be so +properly done, as (whether you get to a canon's house or not) that the +canon should join you together in wedlock as soon as possible. + +I much approve, however, of all your cautions, of all your vigilance, +and of every thing you have done, but of your meeting him. Yet, in my +disapprobation of that, I judge by that event only: for who would have +divined it would have been concluded as it did? But he is the devil by +his own account: and had he run away with the wretched Solmes, and your +more wretched brother, and himself been transported for life, he should +have had my free consent for all three. + +What use does he make of that Joseph Leman!--His ingenuousness, I must +more than once say, confounds me; but if, my dear, you can forgive +your brother for the part he put that fellow upon acting, I don't know +whether you ought to be angry at Lovelace. Yet I have wished fifty +times, since Lovelace got you away, that you were rid of him, whether it +were by a burning fever, by hanging, by drowning, or by a broken +neck; provided it were before he laid you under a necessity to go into +mourning for him. + +I repeat my hitherto rejected offer. May I send it safely by your old +man? I have reasons for not sending it by Hickman's servant; unless I +had a bank note. Inquiring for such may cause distrust. My mother is so +busy, so inquisitive--I don't love suspicious tempers. + +And here she is continually in and out--I must break off. + + +***** + + +Mr. Hickman begs his most respectful compliments to you, with offer of +his services. I told him I would oblige him, because minds in trouble +take kindly any body's civilities: but that he was not to imagine that +he particularly obliged me by this; since I should think the man or +woman either blind or stupid who admired not a person of your exalted +merit for your own sake, and wished not to serve you without view to +other reward than the honour of serving you. + +To be sure, that was his principal motive, with great daintiness he said +it: but with a kiss of his hand, and a bow to my feet, he hoped, that a +fine lady's being my friend did not lessen the merit of the reverence he +really had for her. + +Believe me ever, what you, my dear, shall ever find me, + +Your faithful and affectionate, ANNA HOWE. + + + + +LETTER XXVIII + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE SAT. AFTERNOON. + + +I detain your messenger while I write an answer to yours; the poor old +man not being very well. + +You dishearten me a good deal about Mr. Lovelace. I may be too willing +from my sad circumstances to think the best of him. If his pretences +to reformation are but pretences, what must be his intent? But can the +heart of man be so very vile? Can he, dare he, mock the Almighty? But +I may not, from one very sad reflection, think better of him; that I am +thrown too much into his power, to make it necessary for him (except +he were to intend the very utmost villany by me) to be such a shocking +hypocrite? He must, at least be in earnest at the time he gives the +better hopes. Surely he must. You yourself must join with me in this +hope, or you could not wish me to be so dreadfully yoked. + +But after all, I had rather, much rather, be independent of him, and of +his family, although I have an high opinion of them; at least till I see +what my own may be brought to.--Otherwise, I think, it were best for me, +at once, to cast myself into Lady Betty's protection. All would then be +conducted with decency, and perhaps many mortifications would be spared +me. But then I must be his, at all adventures, and be thought to defy my +own family. And shall I not first see the issue of one application? And +yet I cannot make this, till I am settled somewhere, and at a distance +from him. + +Mrs. Sorlings shewed me a letter this morning, which she had received +from her sister Greme last night; in which Mrs. Greme (hoping I would +forgive her forward zeal if her sister thinks fit to shew her letter to +me) 'wishes (and that for all the noble family's sake, and she hopes she +may say for my own) that I will be pleased to yield to make his honour, +as she calls him, happy.' She grounds her officiousness, as she calls +it, upon what he was so condescending [her word also] to say to her +yesterday, in his way to Windsor, on her presuming to ask, if she might +soon give him joy? 'That no man ever loved a woman as he loves me: that +no woman ever so well deserved to be beloved: that he loves me with such +a purity as he had never believed himself capable of, or that a mortal +creature could have inspired him with; looking upon me as all soul; as +an angel sent down to save his;' and a great deal more of this sort: +'but that he apprehends my consent to make him happy is at a greater +distance than he wishes; and complained of too severe restrictions I +had laid upon him before I honoured him with my confidence: which +restrictions must be as sacred to him, as if they were parts of the +marriage contract,' &c. + +What, my dear, shall I say to this? How shall I take it? Mrs. Greme is +a good woman. Mrs. Sorlings is a good woman. And this letter agrees with +the conversation between Mr. Lovelace and me, which I thought, and +still think, so agreeable.* Yet what means the man by foregoing the +opportunities he has had to declare himself?--What mean his complaints +of my restrictions to Mrs. Greme? He is not a bashful man.--But you say, +I inspire people with an awe of me.--An awe, my dear!--As how? + + + * This letter Mrs. Greme (with no bad design on her part) was put upon +writing by Mr. Lovelace himself, as will be seen in Letter XXXV. + + +I am quite petulant, fretful, and peevish, with myself, at times, to +find that I am bound to see the workings of the subtle, or this giddy +spirit, which shall I call it? + +How am I punished, as I frequently think, for my vanity, in hoping to +be an example to young persons of my sex! Let me be but a warning, and I +will now be contented. For, be my destiny what it may, I shall never +be able to hold up my head again among my best friends and worthiest +companions. + +It is one of the cruelest circumstances that attends the faults of the +inconsiderate, that she makes all who love her unhappy, and gives joy +only to her own enemies, and to the enemies of her family. + +What an useful lesson would this afford, were it properly inculcated at +the time that the tempted mind was balancing upon a doubtful adventure? + +You know not, my dear, the worth of a virtuous man; and, noble-minded as +you are in most particulars, you partake of the common weakness of human +nature, in being apt to slight what is in your own power. + +You would not think of using Mr. Lovelace, were he your suitor, as you +do the much worthier Mr. Hickman--would you?--You know who says in +my mother's case, 'Much will bear, much shall bear, all the world +through.'* Mr. Hickman, I fancy, would be glad to know the lady's name, +who made such an observation. He would think it hardly possible, but +such a one should benefit by her own remark; and would be apt to wish +his Miss Howe acquainted with her. + + + * See Vol.I. Letter X. + + +Gentleness of heart, surely, is not despicable in a man. Why, if it be, +is the highest distinction a man can arrive at, that of a gentleman?--A +distinction which a prince may not deserve. For manners, more than +birth, fortune, or title, are requisite in this character. Manners are +indeed the essence of it. And shall it be generally said, and Miss Howe +not be an exception to it (as you once wrote), that our sex are best +dealt with by boisterous and unruly spirits?* + + + * See Vol.II. Letter III. + + +Forgive me, my dear, and love me as you used to do. For although my +fortunes are changed, my heart is not: Nor ever will, while it bids my +pen tell you, that it must cease to bear, when it is not as much yours +as + +Your CL. HARLOWE. + + + + +LETTER XXIX + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE. SATURDAY EVENING. + +Mr. Lovelace has seen divers apartments at Windsor; but not one, he +says, that he thought fit for me, and which, at the same time, answered +my description. + +He has been very solicitous to keep to the letter of my instructions: +which looked well: and the better I like him, as, although he proposed +that town, he came back, dissuading me from it: for he said, that, in +his journey from thence, he had thought Windsor, although of his own +proposal, a wrong choice; because I coveted privacy, and that was a +place generally visited and admired.* + + + * This inference of the Lady in his favour is exactly what he had hoped +for. See Letter XXV. of this volume. + + +I told him, that if Mrs. Sorlings thought me not an incumbrance, I would +be willing to stay here a little longer; provided he would leave me, and +go to Lord M.'s, or to London, which ever he thought best. + +He hoped, he said, that he might suppose me absolutely safe from the +insults or attempts of my brother; and, therefore, if it should make me +easier, he would obey, for a few days at least. + +He again proposed to send for Hannah. I told him I designed to do +so, through you--And shall I beg of you, my dear, to cause the honest +creature to be sent to? Your faithful Robert, I think, knows where +she is. Perhaps she will be permitted to quit her place directly, by +allowing a month's wages, which I will repay her. He took notice of the +serious humour he found me in, and of the redness of my eyes. I had just +been answering your letter; and had he not approached me, on his +coming off his journey, in a very respectful manner; had he not made an +unexceptionable report of his inquiries, and been so ready to go from +me, at the very first word; I was prepared (notwithstanding the good +terms we parted upon when he set out for Windsor) to have given him a +very unwelcome reception: for the contents of your last letter had so +affected me, that the moment I saw him, I beheld with indignation the +seducer, who had been the cause of all the evils I suffer, and have +suffered. + +He hinted to me, that he had received a letter from Lady Betty, and +another (as I understood him) from one of the Miss Montagues. If they +take notice of me in them, I wonder that he did not acquaint me with the +contents. I am afraid, my dear, that his relations are among those who +think I have taken a rash and inexcusable step. It is not to my credit +to let even them know how I have been frighted out of myself: and yet +perhaps they would hold me unworthy of their alliance, if they were to +think my flight a voluntary one. O my dear, how uneasy to us are our +reflections upon every doubtful occurrence, when we know we have been +prevailed upon to do a wrong thing! + + +SUNDAY MORNING. + +Ah! this man, my dear! We have had warmer dialogues than ever yet we +have had. At fair argument, I find I need not fear him;* but he is such +a wild, such an ungovernable creature [he reformed!] that I am half +afraid of him. + + + * See this confirmed by Mr. Lovelace, Letter XI. of this volume. + + +He again, on my declaring myself uneasy at his stay with me here, +proposed that I would put myself into Lady Betty's protection; assuring +me that he thought he could not leave me at Mrs. Sorlings's with safety +to myself. And upon my declining to do that, for the reasons I gave you +in my last,* he urged me to make a demand of my estate. + + + * See Letter XXVIII. of this volume. + + +He knew it, I told him, to be my resolution not to litigate with my +father. + +Nor would he put me upon it, he replied, but as the last thing. But +if my spirit would not permit me to be obliged, as I called it, to any +body, and yet if my relations would refuse me my own, he knew not how +I could keep up that spirit, without being put to inconveniences, +which would give him infinite concern--Unless--unless--unless, he said, +hesitating, as if afraid to speak out--unless I would take the only +method I could take, to obtain the possession of my own. + +What is that, Sir? + +Sure the man saw by my looks, when he came with his creeping unless's, +that I guessed what he meant. + +Ah! Madam, can you be at a loss to know what that method is?--They will +not dispute with a man that right which they contest with you. + +Why said he with a man, instead of with him? Yet he looked as if he +wanted to be encouraged to say more. + +So, Sir, you would have me employ a lawyer, would you, notwithstanding +what I have ever declared as to litigating with my father? + +No, I would not, my dearest creature, snatching my hand, and pressing it +with his lips--except you would make me the lawyer. + +Had he said me at first, I should have been above the affectation of +mentioning a lawyer. + +I blushed. The man pursued not the subject so ardently, but that it was +more easy as well as more natural to avoid it than to fall into it. + +Would to Heaven he might, without offending!--But I so over-awed +him!--[over-awed him!--Your* notion, my dear!]--And so the over-awed, +bashful man went off from the subject, repeating his proposal, that I +would demand my own estate, or empower some man of the law to demand it, +if I would not [he put in] empower a happier man to demand it. But it +could not be amiss, he thought, to acquaint my two trustees, that I +intended to assume it. + + + * See Letter XIX. of this volume. + +I should know better what to do, I told him, when he was at a distance +from me, and known to be so. I suppose, Sir, that if my father propose +my return, and engage never to mention Solmes to me, nor any other man, +but by my consent, and I agree, upon that condition, to think no more of +you, you will acquiesce. + +I was willing to try whether he had the regard to all of my previous +declarations, which he pretended to have to some of them. + +He was struck all of a heap. + +What say you, Mr. Lovelace? You know, all you mean is for my good. +Surely I am my own mistress: surely I need not ask your leave to make +what terms I please for myself, so long as I break none with you? + +He hemm'd twice or thrice--Why, Madam--why, Madam, I cannot say--then +pausing--and rising from his seat with petulance; I see plainly enough, +said he, the reason why none of my proposals can be accepted: at last I +am to be a sacrifice to your reconciliation with your implacable family. + +It has always been your respectful way, Mr. Lovelace, to treat my family +in this free manner. But pray, Sir, when you call others implacable, see +that you deserve not the same censure yourself. + +He must needs say, there was no love lost between some of my family and +him; but he had not deserved of them what they had of him. + +Yourself being judge, I suppose, Sir? + +All the world, you yourself, Madam, being judge. + +Then, Sir, let me tell you, had you been less upon your defiances, +they would not have been irritated so much against you. But nobody ever +heard, that avowed despite to the relations of a person was a proper +courtship, either to that person, or to her friends. + +Well, Madam, all that I know is, that their malice against me is such, +that, if you determine to sacrifice me, you may be reconciled when you +please. + +And all I know, Sir, is, that if I do give my father the power of a +negative, and he will be contented with that, it will be but my duty to +give it him; and if I preserve one to myself, I shall break through no +obligation to you. + +Your duty to your capricious brother, not to your father, you mean, +Madam. + +If the dispute lay between my brother and me at first, surely, Sir, a +father may choose which party he will take. + +He may, Madam--but that exempts him not from blame for all that, if he +take the wrong-- + +Different people will judge differently, Mr. Lovelace, of the right and +the wrong. You judge as you please. Shall not others as they please? And +who has a right to controul a father's judgment in his own family, and +in relation to his own child? + +I know, Madam, there is no arguing with you. But, nevertheless, I had +hoped to have made myself some little merit with you, so as that I might +not have been the preliminary sacrifice to a reconciliation. + +Your hope, Sir, had been better grounded if you had had my consent to my +abandoning of my father's house-- + +Always, Madam, and for ever, to be reminded of the choice you would have +made of that damn'd Solmes--rather than-- + +Not so hasty! not so rash, Mr. Lovelace! I am convinced that there was +no intention to marry me to that Solmes on Wednesday. + +So I am told they now give out, in order to justify themselves at your +expense. Every body living, Madam, is obliged to you for your kind +thoughts but I. + +Excuse me, good Mr. Lovelace [waving my hand, and bowing], that I am +willing to think the best of my father. + +Charming creature! said he, with what a bewitching air is that +said!--And with a vehemence in his manner would have snatched my hand. +But I withdrew it, being much offended with him. + +I think, Madam, my sufferings for your sake might have entitled me to +some favour. + +My sufferings, Sir, for your impetuous temper, set against your +sufferings for my sake, I humbly conceive, leave me very little your +debtor. + +Lord! Madam, [assuming a drawling air] What have you suffered?--Nothing +but what you can easily forgive. You have been only made a prisoner in +your father's house, by way of doing credit to your judgment!--You have +only had an innocent and faithful servant turned out of your service, +because you loved her!--You have only had your sister's confident +servant set over you, with leave to tease and affront you--! + +Very well, Sir! + +You have only had an insolent brother take upon him to treat you like a +slave, and as insolent a sister to undermine you in every body's favour, +on pretence to keep you out of hands, which, if as vile as they vilely +report, are not, however, half so vile and cruel as their own. + +Go on, Sir, if you please! + +You have only been persecuted, in order to oblige you to have a sordid +fellow, whom you have professed to hate, and whom every body despises! +The license has been only got! The parson has only been had in +readiness! The day, a near, a very near day, had been only fixed! And +you were only to be searched for your correspondencies, and still closer +confined till the day came, in order to deprive you of all means of +escaping the snare laid for you!--But all this you can forgive! You +can wish you had stood all this; inevitable as the compulsion must have +been!--And the man who, at the hazard of his life, had delivered you +from all these mortifications, is the only person you cannot forgive! + +Can't you go on, Sir? You see I have patience to hear you. Can't you go +on, Sir? + +I can, Madam, with my sufferings: which I confess ought not to be +mentioned, were I at last to be rewarded in the manner I hoped. + +Your sufferings then, if you please, Sir? + +Affrontingly forbidden your father's house, after encouragement given, +without any reasons they knew not before to justify the prohibition: +forced upon a rencounter I wished to avoid: the first I ever, so +provoked, wished to avoid. And that, because the wretch was your +brother! + +Wretch, Sir!--And my brother!--This could be from no man breathing, but +from him before me! + +Pardon me, Madam!--But oh! how unworthy to be your brother!--The quarrel +grafted upon an old one, when at college; he universally known to be the +aggressor; and revived for views equally sordid and injurious both to +yourself and me--giving life to him, who would have taken away mine! + +Your generosity THIS, Sir; not your sufferings: a little more of your +sufferings, if you please!--I hope you do not repent, that you did not +murder my brother! + +My private life hunted into! My morals decried! Some of the accusers not +unfaulty! + +That's an aspersion, Sir! + +Spies set upon my conduct! One hired to bribe my own servant's fidelity; +perhaps to have poisoned me at last, if the honest fellow had not-- + +Facts, Mr. Lovelace!--Do you want facts in the display of your +sufferings?--None of your perhaps's, I beseech you! + +Menaces every day, and defiances, put into every one's mouth against me! +Forced to creep about in disguises--and to watch all hours-- + +And in all weathers, I suppose, Sir--That, I remember, was once your +grievance! In all weathers, Sir!* and all these hardships arising from +yourself, not imposed by me. + + + * See Letter VI. of this volume. + + +Like a thief, or an eaves-dropper, proceeded he: and yet neither by +birth nor alliances unworthy of their relation, whatever I may be and +am of their admirable daughter: of whom they, every one of them, are at +least as unworthy!--These, Madam, I call sufferings: justly call so; if +at last I am to be sacrificed to an imperfect reconciliation--imperfect, +I say: for, can you expect to live so much as tolerably under the same +roof, after all that has passed, with that brother and sister? + +O Sir, Sir! What sufferings have yours been! And all for my sake, I +warrant!--I can never reward you for them!--Never think of me more I +beseech you--How can you have patience with me?--Nothing has been +owing to your own behaviour, I presume: nothing to your defiances for +defiances: nothing to your resolution declared more than once, that you +would be related to a family, which, nevertheless, you would not stoop +to ask a relation of: nothing, in short to courses which every body +blamed you for, you not thinking it worth your while to justify +yourself. Had I not thought you used in an ungentlemanly manner, as I +have heretofore told you, you had not had my notice by pen and ink.* +That notice gave you a supposed security, and you generously defied +my friends the more for it: and this brought upon me (perhaps not +undeservedly) my father's displeasure; without which, my brother's +private pique, and selfish views, would have wanted a foundation to +build upon: so that for all that followed of my treatment, and your +redundant only's, I might thank you principally, as you may yourself for +all your sufferings, your mighty sufferings!--And if, voluble Sir, you +have founded any merit upon them, be so good as to revoke it: and +look upon me, with my forfeited reputation, as the only sufferer--For +what--pray hear me out, Sir [for he was going to speak] have you +suffered in but your pride? Your reputation could not suffer: that +it was beneath you to be solicitous about. And had you not been an +unmanageable man, I should not have been driven to the extremity I now +every hour, as the hour passes, deplore--with this additional reflection +upon myself, that I ought not to have begun, or, having begun, not +continued a correspondence with one who thought it not worth his while +to clear his own character for my sake, or to submit to my father for +his own, in a point wherein every father ought to have an option-- + + + * See Letter VI. of this volume. + + +Darkness, light; light, darkness; by my soul;--just as you please to +have it. O charmer of my heart! snatching my hand, and pressing it +between both of his, to his lips, in a strange wild way, take me, take +me to yourself: mould me as you please: I am wax in your hands; give me +your own impression; and seal me for ever yours--we were born for each +other!--You to make me happy, and save a soul--I am all error, all +crime. I see what I ought to have done. But do you think, Madam, I can +willingly consent to be sacrificed to a partial reconciliation, in +which I shall be so great, so irreparable a sufferer!--Any thing but +that--include me in your terms: prescribe to me: promise for me as you +please--put a halter about my neck, and lead me by it, upon condition +of forgiveness on that disgraceful penance, and of a prostration as +servile, to your father's presence (your brother absent), and I will +beg his consent at his feet, and bear any thing but spurning from him, +because he is your father. But to give you up upon cold conditions, +d----n me [said the shocking wretch] if I either will, or can! + +These were his words, as near as I can remember them; for his behaviour +was so strangely wild and fervent, that I was perfectly frighted. I +thought he would have devoured my hand. I wished myself a thousand miles +distant from him. + +I told him, I by no means approved of his violent temper: he was too +boisterous a man for my liking. I saw now, by the conversation that had +passed, what was his boasted regard to my injunctions; and should +take my measures accordingly, as he should soon find. And, with a half +frighted earnestness, I desired him to withdraw, and leave me to myself. + +He obeyed; and that with extreme complaisance in his manner, but +with his complexion greatly heightened, and a countenance as greatly +dissatisfied. + +But, on recollecting all that passed, I plainly see that he means not, +if he can help it, to leave me to the liberty of refusing him; which I +had nevertheless preserved a right to do; but looks upon me as his, by a +strange sort of obligation, for having run away with me against my will. + +Yet you see he but touches upon the edges of matrimony neither. And +that at a time, generally, when he has either excited one's passions +or apprehensions; so that one cannot at once descend. But surely this +cannot be his design.--And yet such seemed to be his behaviour to my +sister,* when he provoked her to refuse him, and so tamely submitted, as +he did, to her refusal. But he dare not--What can one say of so various +a man?--I am now again out of conceit with him. I wish I were fairly out +of his power. + + + * See Vol.I. Letters II. and III. + + +He has sent up three times to beg admittance; in the two last with +unusual earnestness. But I have sent him word, I will finish what I am +about. + +What to do about going from this place, I cannot tell. I could stay +here with all my heart, as I have said to him: the gentlewoman and her +daughters are desirous that I will: although not very convenient for +them, I believe, neither: but I see he will not leave me, while I do--so +I must remove somewhere. + +I have long been sick of myself: and now I am more and more so. But +let me not lose your good opinion. If I do, that loss will complete the +misfortunes of + +Your CL. HARLOWE. + + + + +LETTER XXX + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE SUNDAY NIGHT, APRIL 16. + + +I may send to you, although you are forbid to write to me; may I +not?--For that is not a correspondence (is it?) where letters are not +answered. + +I am strangely at a loss what to think of this man. He is a perfect +Proteus. I can but write according to the shape he assumes at the time. +Don't think me the changeable person, I beseech you, if in one letter I +contradict what I wrote in another; nay, if I seem to contradict what +I said in the same letter: for he is a perfect camelion; or rather more +variable than the camelion; for that, it is said, cannot assume the +red and the white; but this man can. And though black seems to be +his natural colour, yet has he taken great pains to make me think him +nothing but white. + +But you shall judge of him as I proceed. Only, if I any where appear +to you to be credulous, I beg you to set me right: for you are a +stander-by, as you say in a former*--Would to Heaven I were not to play! +for I think, after all, I am held to a desperate game. + + + * See Letter VIII. of this volume. + + +Before I could finish my last to you, he sent up twice more to beg +admittance. I returned for answer, that I would see him at my own time: +I would neither be invaded nor prescribed to. + +Considering how we parted, and my delaying his audience, as he sometimes +calls it, I expected him to be in no very good humour, when I admitted +of his visit; and by what I wrote, you will conclude that I was not. Yet +mine soon changed, when I saw his extreme humility at his entrance, and +heard what he had to say. + +I have a letter, Madam, said he, from Lady Betty Lawrance, and another +from my cousin Charlotte. But of these more by-and-by. I came now to +make my humble acknowledgement to you upon the arguments that passed +between us so lately. + +I was silent, wondering what he was driving at. + +I am a most unhappy creature, proceeded he: unhappy from a strange +impatiency of spirit, which I cannot conquer. It always brings upon me +deserved humiliation. But it is more laudable to acknowledge, than to +persevere when under the power of conviction. + +I was still silent. + +I have been considering what you proposed to me, Madam, that I should +acquiesce with such terms as you should think proper to comply with, in +order to a reconciliation with your friends. + +Well, Sir. + +And I find all just, all right, on your side; and all impatience, all +inconsideration on mine. + +I stared, you may suppose. Whence this change, Sir? and so soon? + +I am so much convinced that you must be in the right in all you think +fit to insist upon, that I shall for the future mistrust myself; and, +if it be possible, whenever I differ with you, take an hour's time for +recollection, before I give way to that vehemence, which an opposition, +to which I have not been accustomed, too often gives me. + +All this is mighty good, Sir: But to what does it tend? + +Why, Madam, when I came to consider what you had proposed, as to the +terms of reconciliation with your friends; and when I recollected that +you had always referred to yourself to approve or reject me, according +to my merits or demerits; I plainly saw, that it was rather a +condescension in you, that you were pleased to ask my consent to those +terms,than that you were imposing a new law: and I now, Madam, beg your +pardon for my impatience: whatever terms you think proper to come into +with your relations, which will enable you to honour me with the +conditional effect of your promise to me, to these be pleased to +consent: and if I lose you, insupportable as that thought is to me; yet, +as it must be by my own fault, I ought to thank myself for +it. + +What think you, Miss Howe?--Do you believe he can have any view in +this?--I cannot see any he could have; and I thought it best, as he put +it in so right a manner, to appear not to doubt the sincerity of his +confession, and to accept of it as sincere. + +He then read to me part of Lady Betty's letter; turning down the +beginning, which was a little too severe upon him, he said, for my eye: +and I believe, by the style, the remainder of it was in a corrective +strain. + +It was too plain, I told him, that he must have great faults, that none +of his relations could write to him, but with a mingled censure for some +bad action. + +And it is as plain, my dearest creature, said he, that you, who know +not of any such faults, but by surmise, are equally ready to condemn +me.--Will not charity allow you to infer, that their charges are no +better grounded?--And that my principal fault has been carelessness of +my character, and too little solicitude to clear myself, when aspersed? +Which, I do assure you, is the case. + +Lady Betty, in her letter, expresses herself in the most obliging manner +in relation to me. 'She wishes him so to behave, as to encourage me to +make him soon happy. She desires her compliments to me; and expresses +her impatience to see, as her niece, so celebrated a lady [those are her +high words]. She shall take it for an honour, she says, to be put into +a way to oblige me. She hopes I will not too long delay the ceremony; +because that performed, will be to her, and to Lord M. and Lady Sarah, a +sure pledge of her nephew's merits and good behaviour.' + +She says, 'she was always sorry to hear of the hardships I had met with +on his account: that he will be the most ungrateful of men, if he make it +not all up to me: and that she thinks it incumbent upon all their family +to supply to me the lost favour of my own: and, for her part, nothing of +that kind, she bids him assure me, shall be wanting.' + +Her ladyship observes, 'That the treatment he had received from my +family would have been much more unaccountable than it was, with such +natural and accidental advantages as he had, had it not been owing +to his own careless manners. But she hopes that he will convince the +Harlowe family that they had thought worse of him than he had deserved; +since now it was in his power to establish his character for ever. This +she prays to God to enable him to do, as well for his own honour, as for +the honour of their house,' was the magnificent word. + +She concludes, with 'desiring to be informed of our nuptials the moment +they are celebrated, that she may be with the earliest in felicitating +me on the happy occasion.' + +But her Ladyship gives me no direct invitation to attend her before the +marriage: which I might have expected from what he had told me. + +He then shewed me part of Miss Montague's more sprightly letter, +'congratulating him upon the honour he had obtained, of the confidence +of so admirable a lady.' These are her words. Confidence, my dear! +Nobody, indeed, as you say, will believe otherwise, were they to be +told the truth: and you see that Miss Montague (and all his family, I +suppose) think that the step I have taken an extraordinary one. 'She +also wishes for his speedy nuptials; and to see her new cousin at M. +Hall: as do Lord M. she tells him, and her sister; and in general all +the well-wishers of their family. + +'Whenever this happy day shall be passed, she proposes, she says, to +attend me, and to make one in my train to M. Hall, if his Lordship shall +continue as ill of the gout as he is at present. But that, should he get +better, he will himself attend me, she is sure, and conduct me thither; +and afterwards quit either of his three seats to us, till we shall be +settled to our mind.' + +This young lady says nothing in excuse for not meeting me on the road, +or St. Alban's, as he had made me expect she would: yet mentions her +having been indisposed. Mr. Lovelace had also told me, that Lord M. was +ill of the gout; which Miss Montague's letter confirms. + +But why did not the man show me these letters last night? Was he afraid +of giving me too much pleasure? + + + + +LETTER XXXI + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE + + +You may believe, my dear, that these letters put me in good humour with +him. He saw it in my countenance, and congratulated himself upon it. +Yet I cannot but repeat my wonder, that I could not have the contents of +them communicated to me last night.* + + + * The reader will see how Miss Howe accounts for this, in Letter XXXV. + + +He then urged me to go directly to Lady Betty's, on the strength of her +letter. + +But how, said I, can I do that, were I even out of all hope of a +reconciliation with my friends, (which yet, however unlikely to be +effected, is my duty to attempt,) as her Ladyship has given me no +particular invitation? + +That, he was sure, was owing to her doubt that it would be +accepted--Else she had done it with the greatest pleasure in the world. + +That doubt itself, I said, was enough to deter me: since her Ladyship, +who knew so well the boundaries to the fit and the unfit, by her not +expecting I would accept of the invitation, had she given it, would have +reason to think me very forward, if I had accepted it; and much more +forward to go without it. Then, said I, I thank you, Sir, I have no +clothes fit to go any where, or to be seen by any body. + +O, I was fit to appear in the drawing-room, were full dress and +jewels to be excused; and should make the most amiable [he must mean +extraordinary] figure there. He was astonished at the elegance of my +dress. By what art he knew not, but I appeared to such advantage, as if +I had a different suit every day. + +Besides, his cousins Montague would supply me with all I wanted for the +present; and he would write to Miss Charlotte accordingly, if I would +give him leave. + +Do you think me the jay in the fable? said I. Would you have me visit +the owners of the borrowed dresses in their own clothes? Surely, Mr. +Lovelace, you think I have either a very low, or a very confident mind. + +Would I choose to go to London (for a very few days only) in order to +furnish myself with clothes? + +Not at your expense, Sir, said I, in an angry tone. + +I could not have appeared in earnest to him, in my displeasure at his +artful contrivances to get me away, if I were not occasionally to shew +my real fretfulness upon the destitute condition to which he has reduced +me. When people set out wrong together, it is very difficult to avoid +recriminations. + +He wished he knew but my mind--That should direct him in his proposals, +and it would be his delight to observe it, whatever it were. + +My mind is, that you, Sir, should leave me out of hand--How often must I +tell you so? + +If I were any where but here, he would obey me, he said, if I insisted +upon it. But if I would assert my right, that would be infinitely +preferable, in his opinion, to any other measure but one (which he durst +only hint at:) for then admitting his visits, or refusing them, as I +pleased, (Granting a correspondence by letter only) it would appear +to all the world, that what I had done, was but in order to do myself +justice. + +How often, Mr. Lovelace, must I repeat, that I will not litigate with my +father? Do you think that my unhappy circumstances will alter my notions +of my own duty so far as I shall be enabled to perform it? How can I +obtain possession without litigation, and but by my trustees? One of +them will be against me; the other is abroad. Then the remedy proposed +by this measure, were I disposed to fall in with it, will require time +to bring it into effect; and what I want, is present independence, and +your immediate absence. + +Upon his soul, the wretch swore, he did not think it safe, for the +reasons he had before given, to leave me here. He wished I would think +of some place, to which I should like to go. But he must take +the liberty to say, that he hoped his behaviour had not been so +exceptionable, as to make me so very earnest for his absence in the +interim: and the less, surely, as I was almost eternally shutting up +myself from him; although he presumed to assure me, that he never went +from me, but with a corrected heart, and with strengthened resolutions +of improving by my example. + +?Externally shutting myself up from you! repeated I--I hope, Sir, that +you will not pretend to take it amiss, that I expect to be uninvaded in +my retirements. I hope you do not think me so weak a creature (novice as +you have found me in a very capital instance) as to be fond of occasions +to hear your fond speeches, especially as no differing circumstances +require your over-frequent visits; nor that I am to be addressed to, as +if I thought hourly professions needful to assure me of your honour. + +He seemed a little disconcerted. + +You know, Mr. Lovelace, proceeded I, why I am so earnest for your +absence. It is, that I may appear to the world independent of you; and +in hopes, by that means, to find it less difficult to set on foot a +reconciliation with my friends. And now let me add, (in order to make +you easier as to the terms of that hoped-for reconciliation,) that since +I find I have the good fortune to stand so well with your relations, I +will, from time to time, acquaint you, by letter, when you are absent, +with every step I shall take, and with every overture that shall be made +to me: but not with an intention to render myself accountable to you, +neither, as to my acceptance or non-acceptance of those overtures. They +know that I have a power given me by my grandfather's will, to bequeath +the estate he left me, with other of his bounties, in a way that may +affect them, though not absolutely from them. This consideration, I +hope, will procure me some from them, when their passion subsides, and +when they know I am independent of you. + +Charming reasoning!--And let him tell me, that the assurance I had +given him was all he wished for. It was more than he could ask. What a +happiness to have a woman of honour and generosity to depend upon! Had +he, on his first entrance into the world, met with such a one, he had +never been other than a man of strict virtue.--But all, he hoped, +was for the best; since, in that case, he had never perhaps had the +happiness he now had in view; because his relations had always been +urging him to marry; and that before he had the honour to know me. And +now, as he had not been so bad as some people's malice reported him to +be, he hoped he should have near as much merit in his repentance, as +if he had never erred.--A fine rakish notion and hope! And too much +encouraged, I doubt, my dear, by the generality of our sex! + +This brought on a more serious question or two. You'll see by it what a +creature an unmortified libertine is. + +I asked him, if he knew what he had said, alluded to a sentence in the +best of books, That there was more joy in heaven-- + +He took the words out of my mouth, + +Over one sinner that repenteth, than over ninety-and-nine just persons, +which need no repentance,* were his words. + + + * Luke xv. 7. The parable is concerning the Ninety-nine Sheep, not the +Prodigal Son, as Mr. Lovelace erroneously imagines. + + +Yes, Madam, I thought of it, as soon as I said it, but not before. I +have read the story of the Prodigal Son, I'll assure you; and one day, +when I am settled as I hope to be, will write a dramatic piece on the +subject. I have at times had it in my head; and you will be too ready, +perhaps, to allow me to be qualified fro it. + +You so lately, Sir, stumbled at a word, with which you must be better +acquainted, ere you can be thoroughly master of such a subject, that I +am amazed you should know any thing of the Scripture, and be so ignorant +of that.* + + + * See Letter XXIV. of this volume. + + +O Madam, I have read the Bible, as a fine piece of ancient history--But +as I hope to be saved, it has for some years past made me so uneasy, +when I have popped upon some passages in it, that I have been forced to +run to music or company to divert myself. + +Poor wretch! lifting up my hands and eyes. + +The denunciations come so slap-dash upon one, so unceremoniously, as I +may say, without even the By-your-leave of a rude London chairman, that +they overturn one, horse and man, as St. Paul was overturned. There's +another Scripture allusion, Madam! The light, in short, as his was, is +too glaring to be borne. + +O Sir, do you want to be complimented into repentance and salvation? +But pray, Mr. Lovelace, do you mean any thing at all, when you swear so +often as you do, By your soul, or bind an asseveration with the words, +As you hope to be saved? + +O my beloved creature, shifting his seat; let us call another cause. + +Why, Sir, don't I neither use ceremony enough with you? + +Dearest Madam, forbear for the present: I am but in my noviciate. Your +foundation must be laid brick by brick: you'll hinder the progress of +the good work you would promote, if you tumble in a whole wagon-load at +once upon me. + +Lord bless me, thought I, what a character is that of a libertine! +What a creature am I, who have risked what I have risked with such a +one!--What a task before me, if my hopes continue of reforming such a +wild Indian as this!--Nay, worse than a wild Indian; for a man who errs +with his eyes open, and against conviction, is a thousand times worse +for what he knows, and much harder to be reclaimed, than if he had never +known any thing at all. + +I was equally shocked at him, and concerned for him; and having laid so +few bricks (to speak to his allusion) and those so ill-cemented, I was +as willing as the gay and inconsiderate to call another cause, as he +termed it--another cause, too, more immediately pressing upon me, from +my uncertain situation. + +I said, I took it for granted that he assented to the reasoning he +seemed to approve, and would leave me. And then I asked him, what he +really, and in his most deliberate mind, would advise me to, in my +present situation? He must needs see, I said, that I was at a great loss +what to resolve upon; entirely a stranger to London, having no adviser, +no protector, at present: himself, he must give me leave to tell +him, greatly deficient in practice, if not in the knowledge, of those +decorums, which, I had supposed, were always to be found in a man of +birth, fortune, and education. + +He imagines himself, I find, to be a very polite man, and cannot bear to +be thought otherwise. He put up his lip--I am sorry for it, Madam--a man +of breeding, a man of politeness, give me leave to say, [colouring,] is +much more of a black swan with you, than with any lady I ever met with. + +Then that is your misfortune, Mr. Lovelace, as well as mine, at present. +Every woman of discernment, I am confident, knowing what I know of you +now, would as I, say, [I had a mind to mortify a pride, that I am sure +deserves to be mortified;] that your politeness is not regular, nor +constant. It is not habit. It is too much seen by fits and starts, and +sallies, and those not spontaneous. You must be reminded into them. + +O Lord! O Lord!--Poor I!--was the light, yet the half-angry wretch's +self-pitying expression! + +I proceeded.--Upon my word, Sir, you are not the accomplished man, which +your talents and opportunities would have led one to expect you to be. +You are indeed in your noviciate, as to every laudable attainment. + + + + +LETTER XXXII + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE [IN CONTINUATION.] + + +As this subject was introduced by himself, and treated so lightly by +him, I was going on to tell him more of my mind; but he interrupted +me--Dear, dear Madam, spare me. I am sorry that I have lived to this +hour for nothing at all. But surely you could not have quitted a subject +so much more agreeable, and so much more suitable, I will say, to your +present situation, if you had not too cruel a pleasure in mortifying a +man, who the less needed to be mortified, as he before looked up to you +with a diffidence in his own merits too great to permit him to speak +half of his mind to you. Be pleased but to return to the subject we were +upon; and at another time I will gladly embrace correction from the only +lips in the world so qualified to give it. + +You talk of reformation sometimes, Mr. Lovelace, and in so talking, +acknowledge errors. But I see you can very ill bear the reproof, for +which perhaps you are not solicitous to avoid giving occasion. Far be it +from me to take delight in finding fault; I should be glad for both our +sakes, since my situation is what it is, that I could do nothing but +praise you. But failures which affect a mind that need not be very +delicate to be affected by them, are too grating to be passed over in +silence by a person who wishes to be thought in earnest in her own duties. + +I admire your delicacy, Madam, again interrupted he. Although I suffer +by it, yet would I not have it otherwise: indeed I would not, when I +consider of it. It is an angelic delicacy, which sets you above all our +sex, and even above your own. It is natural to you, Madam; so you may +think it extraordinary: but there is nothing like it on earth, said the +flatterer--What company has he kept! + +But let us return to the former subject--You were so good as to ask me +what I would advise you to do: I want but to make you easy; I want but +to see you fixed to your liking: your faithful Hannah with you; your +reconciliation with those to whom you wish to be reconciled, set +on foot, and in a train. And now let me mention to you different +expedients; in hopes that some one of them may be acceptable to you. + +'I will go to Mrs. Howe, or to Miss Howe, or to whomsoever you would +have me to go, and endeavour to prevail upon them to receive you.* + + + * The reader, perhaps, need not be reminded that he had taken care from +the first (see Vol. I. Letter XXXI.) to deprive her of any protection +from Mrs. Howe. See in his next letter, a repeated account of the same +artifices, and his exultations upon his inventions to impose upon the +two such watchful ladies as Clarissa and Miss Howe. + + +'Do you incline to go to Florence to your cousin Morden? I will furnish +you with an opportunity of going thither, either by sea to Leghorn, +or by land through France. Perhaps I may be able to procure one of +the ladies of my family to attend you. Either Charlotte or Patty would +rejoice in such an opportunity of seeing France and Italy. As for +myself, I will only be your escort, in disguise, if you will have it so, +even in your livery, that your punctilio may not receive offence by my +attendance.' + +I told him, I would consider of all he had said: but that I hoped for a +line or two from my aunt Hervey, if not from my sister, to both of +whom I had written, which, if I were to be so favoured, might help to +determine me. Mean time, if he would withdraw, I would particularly +consider of this proposal of his, in relation to my cousin Morden. And +if it held its weight with me, so far as to write for your opinion upon +it, he should know my mind in an hour's time. + +He withdrew with great respect: and in an hour's time returned. And I +then told him it was unnecessary to trouble you for your opinion about +it. My cousin Morden was soon expected. If he were not, I could not +admit him to accompany me to him upon any condition. It was highly +improbable that I should obtain the favour of either of his cousins' +company: and if that could be brought about, it would be the same thing +in the world's eye as if he went himself. + +This led us into another conversation; which shall be the subject of my +next. + + + + +LETTER XXXIII + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE [IN CONTINUATION.] + + +Mr. Lovelace told me, that on the supposition that his proposal in +relation to my cousin Morden might not be accepted, he had been studying +to find out, if possible, some other expedient that might be agreeable, +in order to convince me, that he preferred my satisfaction to his own. + +He then offered to go himself, and procure my Hannah to come and +attend me. As I had declined the service of either of the young Misses +Sorlings, he was extremely solicitous, he said, that I should have a +servant in whose integrity I might confide. + +I told him, that you would be so kind as to send to engage Hannah, if +possible. + +If any thing, he said, should prevent Hannah from coming, suppose he +himself waited upon Miss Howe, to desire her to lend me her servant till +I was provided to my mind? + +I said, your mother's high displeasure at the step I had taken, (as she +supposed, voluntarily,) had deprived me of an open assistance of that +sort from you. + +He was amazed, so much as Mrs. Howe herself used to admire me, and so +great an influence as Miss Howe was supposed, and deserved to have +over her mother, that Mrs. Howe should take upon herself to be so much +offended with me. He wished that the man, who took such pains to keep up +and enflame the passions of my father and uncles, were not at the bottom +of this mischief too. + +I was afraid, I said, that my brother was: or else my uncle Antony, I +dared to say, would not have taken such pains to set Mrs. Howe against +me, as I understood he had done. + +Since I had declined visiting Lady Sarah, and Lady Betty, he asked me, +if I should admit of a visit from his cousin Montague, and accept of a +servant of hers for the present? + +That was not, I said, an acceptable proposal: but I would first see if +my friends would send me my clothes, that I might not make such a giddy +and runaway appearance to any of his relations. + +If I pleased, he would take another journey to Windsor, to make a more +particular inquiry amongst the canons, or in any worthy family. + +Were not his objections as to the publicness of the place, I asked him, +as strong now as before? + +I remember, my dear, in one of your former letters, you mentioned London +as the most private place to be in:* and I said, that since he made such +pretences against leaving me here, as shewed he had no intention to do +so; and since he engaged to go from me, and leave me to pursue my +own measures, if I were elsewhere; and since his presence made these +lodgings inconvenient to me; I should not be disinclined to go to +London, did I know any body there. + + + * See Vol. II. Letter XXXVII. + + +As he had several times proposed London to me, I expected that he would +eagerly have embraced that motion from me. But he took not ready hold of +it: yet I thought his eye approved of it. + +We are both great watchers of each other's eyes; and, indeed, seem to be +more than half afraid of each other. + +He then made a grateful proposal to me: 'that I would send for my Norton +to attend me.'* + + + * The reader is referred to Mr. Lovelace's next letter, for his motives +in making the several proposals of which the Lady is willing to think so +well. + + +He saw by my eyes, he said, that he had at last been happy in an +expedient, which would answer the wishes of us both. Why, says he, did +I not think of it before?--And snatching my hand, Shall I write, Madam? +Shall I send? Shall I go and fetch the worthy woman myself? + +After a little consideration, I told him that this was indeed a grateful +motion: but that I apprehended it would put her to a difficulty which +she would not be able to get over; as it would make a woman of her known +prudence appear to countenance a fugitive daughter in opposition to +her parents; and as her coming to me would deprive her of my mother's +favour, without its being in my power to make it up to her. + +O my beloved creature! said he, generously enough, let not this be +an obstacle. I will do every thing for Mrs. Norton you wish to have +done.--Let me go for her. + +More coolly than perhaps his generosity deserved, I told him it was +impossible but I must soon hear from my friends. I should not, mean +time, embroil any body with them. Not Mrs. Norton especially, from whose +interest in, and mediation with, my mother, I might expect some good, +were she to keep herself in a neutral state: that, besides, the good +woman had a mind above her fortune; and would sooner want than be +beholden to any body improperly. + +Improperly! said he.--Have not persons of merit a right to all the +benefits conferred upon them?--Mrs. Norton is so good a woman, that I +shall think she lays me under an obligation if she will put it in my +power to serve her; although she were not to augment it, by giving me +the opportunity, at the same time, of contributing to your pleasure and +satisfaction. + +How could this man, with such powers of right thinking, be so far +depraved by evil habits, as to disgrace his talents by wrong acting? + +Is there not room, after all, thought I, at the time, to hope (as he so +lately led me to hope) that the example it will behove me, for both +our sakes, to endeavour to set him, may influence him to a change of +manners, in which both may find our account? + +Give me leave, Sir, said I, to tell you, there is a strange mixture in +your mind. You must have taken pains to suppress many good motions +and reflections as they arose, or levity must have been surprisingly +predominant in it.--But as to the subject we were upon, there is no +taking any resolutions till I hear from my friends. + +Well, Madam, I can only say, I would find out some expedient, if I +could, that should be agreeable to you. But since I cannot, will you be +so good as to tell me what you would wish to have done? Nothing in the +world but I will comply with, excepting leaving you here, at such a +distance from the place I shall be in, if any thing should happen; and +in a place where my gossiping rascals have made me in a manner public, +for want of proper cautions at first. + +These vermin, added he, have a pride they can hardly rein-in, when +they serve a man of family. They boast of their master's pedigree and +descent, as if they were related to him. Nor is any thing they know of +him, or of his affairs, a secret to one another, were it a matter that +would hang him. + +If so, thought I, men of family should take care to give them subjects +worth boasting of. + +I am quite at a loss, said I, what to do or where to go. Would you, Mr. +Lovelace, in earnest, advise me to think of going to London? + +And I looked at him with stedfastness. But nothing could I gather from +his looks. + +At first, Madam, said he, I was for proposing London, as I was then more +apprehensive of pursuit. But as your relations seem cooler on that head, +I am the more indifferent about the place you go to.--So as you are +pleased, so as you are easy, I shall be happy. + +This indifference of his to London, I cannot but say, made me incline +the more to go thither. I asked him (to hear what he would say) if he +could recommend me to any particular place in London? + +No, he said: none that was fit for me, or that I should like. His friend +Belford, indeed, had very handsome lodgings near Soho-square, at a +relation's, whose wife was a woman of virtue and honour. These, as Mr. +Belford was generally in the country, he could borrow till I was better +accommodated. + +I was resolved to refuse these at the first mention, as I should any +other he had named. Nevertheless, I will see, thought I, if he has +really thought of these for me. If I break off the talk here, and he +resume this proposal with earnestness in the morning, I shall apprehend +that he is less indifferent than he seems to be about my going to +London, and that he has already a lodging in his eye for me. And then I +will not go at all. + +But after such generous motions from him, I really think it a little +barbarous to act and behave as if I thought him capable of the blackest +and most ungrateful baseness. But his character, his principles, are so +faulty! He is so light, so vain, so various, that there is no certainty +that he will be next hour what he is this. Then, my dear, I have no +guardian now; no father, no mother! only God and my vigilance to depend +upon. And I have no reason to expect a miracle in my favour. + +Well, Sir, said I, [rising to leave him,] something must be resolved +upon: but I will postpone this subject till to-morrow morning. + +He would fain have engaged me longer: but I said I would see him as +early as he pleased in the morning. He might think of any convenient +place in London, or near it, in mean time. + +And so I retired from him. As I do from my pen; hoping for better rest +for the few hours that remain of this night than I have had of a long +time. + +CLARISSA HARLOWE. + + + + +LETTER XXXIV + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE [IN CONTINUATION.] MONDAY MORNING, APRIL 17. + + +Late as I went to bed, I have had very little rest. Sleep and I have +quarreled; and although I court it, it will not be friends. I hope its +fellow-irreconcilables at Harlowe-place enjoy its balmy comforts. Else +that will be an aggravation of my fault. My brother and sister, I dare +say, want it not. + +Mr. Lovelace, who is an early riser, as well as I, joined me in the +garden about six; and after the usual salutations, asked me to resume +our last night's subject. It was upon lodgings at London, he said. + +I think you mentioned one to me, Sir--Did you not? + +Yes, Madam, [but, watching the turn of my countenance,] rather as what +you would be welcome to, than perhaps approve of. + +I believe so too. To go to town upon an uncertainty, I own, is not +agreeable: but to be obliged to any persons of your acquaintance, when +I want to be thought independent of you; and to a person, especially, to +whom my friends are to direct to me, if they vouchsafe to take notice of +me at all, is an absurd thing to mention. + +He did not mention it as what he imagined I would accept, but only to +confirm to me what he had said, that he himself knew of none fit for me. + +Has not your family, Madam, some one tradesman they deal with, who has +conveniences of this kind? I would make it worth such a person's while +to keep his secret of your being at his house. Traders are dealers in +pins, said he, and will be more obliged by a penny customer, than by a +pound present, because it is in their way: yet will refuse neither, any +more than a lawyer or a man of office his fee. + +My father's tradesmen, I said, would, no doubt, be the first employed to +find me out. So that that proposal was as wrong as the other. And who +is it that a creature so lately in favour with all her friends can apply +to, in such a situation as mine, but must be (at least) equally the +friends of her relations. + +We had a good deal of discourse upon the same topic. But, at last, the +result was this--He wrote a letter to one Mr. Doleman, a married man, +of fortune and character, (I excepting to Mr. Belford,) desiring him +to provide decent apartments ready furnished [I had told him what they +should be] for a single woman; consisting of a bed-chamber; another for +a maidservant; with the use of a dining-room or parlour. This letter he +gave me to peruse; and then sealed it up, and dispatched it away in my +presence, by one of his own servants, who, having business in town, is +to bring back an answer. + +I attend the issue of it; holding myself in readiness to set out for +London, unless you, my dear, advise the contrary. + + + + +LETTER XXXV + +MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. SAT., SUNDAY, MONDAY. + + + He gives, in several letters, the substance of what is + contained in the last seven of the Lady's. + + He tells his friend, that calling at The Lawn, in his way to + M. Hall, (for he owns that he went not to Windsor,) he + found the letters from Lady Betty Lawrance, and his cousin + Montague, which Mrs. Greme was about sending to him by a + special messenger. + + He gives the particulars, from Mrs. Greme's report, of what + passed between the Lady and her, as in Letter VI. and + makes such declarations to Mrs. Greme of his honour and + affection to the Lady, as put her upon writing the letter to + her sister Sorlings, the contents of which are in Letter + XXVIII. + + He then accounts, as follows, for the serious humour he + found her in on his return: + +Upon such good terms when we parted, I was surprised to find so solemn a +brow upon my return, and her charming eyes red with weeping. But when I +had understood she had received letters from Miss Howe, it was natural +to imagine that that little devil had put her out of humour with me. + +It is easy for me to perceive, that my charmer is more sullen when +she receives, and has perused, a letter from that vixen, than at other +times. But as the sweet maid shews, even then, more of passive grief, +than of active spirit, I hope she is rather lamenting than plotting. +And, indeed, for what now should she plot? when I am become a reformed +man, and am hourly improving in my morals?--Nevertheless, I must +contrive some way or other to get at their correspondence--only to see +the turn of it; that's all. + +But no attempt of this kind must be made yet. A detected invasion, in an +article so sacred, would ruin me beyond retrieve. Nevertheless, it vexes +me to the heart to think that she is hourly writing her whole mind on +all that passes between her and me, I under the same roof with her, +yet kept at such awful distance, that I dare not break into a +correspondence, that may perhaps be a mean to defeat all my devices. + +Would it be very wicked, Jack, to knock her messenger on the head, as +he is carrying my beloved's letters, or returning from Miss Howe's?--To +attempt to bribe him, and not succeed, would utterly ruin me. And the +man seems to be one used to poverty, one who can sit down satisfied with +it, and enjoy it; contented with hand-to-mouth conveniencies, and not +aiming to live better to-morrow, than he does to-day, and than he did +yesterday. Such a one is above temptation, unless it could come clothed +in the guise of truth and trust. What likelihood of corrupting a man who +has no hope, no ambition? + +Yet the rascal has but half life, and groans under that. Should I be +answerable in his case for a whole life?--But hang the fellow! Let him +live. Were I king, or a minister of state, an Antonio Perez,* it were +another thing. And yet, on second thoughts, am I not a rake, as it is +called? And who ever knew a rake stick at any thing? But thou knowest, +Jack, that the greatest half of my wickedness is vapour, to shew my +invention; and to prove that I could be mischievous if I would. + + + * Antonio Perez was first minister of Philip II. king of Spain, by whose +command he caused Don Juan de Escovedo to be assassinated: which brought +on his own ruin, through the perfidy of his viler master.--Gedde's +Tracts. + + + When he comes to that part where the Lady says (Letter + XXIX.) in a sarcastic way, waving her hand, and bowing, + 'Excuse me, good Mr. Lovelace, that I am willing to think + the best of my father,' he gives a description of her air + and manner, greatly to her advantage; and says, + +I could hardly forbear taking her into my arms upon it, in spite of an +expected tempest. So much wit, so much beauty, such a lively manner, +and such exceeding quickness and penetration! O Belford! she must be +nobody's but mine. I can now account for and justify Herod's command to +destroy his Mariamne, if he returned not alive from his interview with +Caesar: for were I to know that it were but probable that any other +man were to have this charming creature, even after my death, the very +thought would be enough to provoke me to cut that man's throat, were he +a prince. + +I may be deemed by this lady a rapid, a boisterous lover--and she may +like me the less for it: but all the ladies I have met with, till now, +loved to raise a tempest, and to enjoy it: nor did they ever raise it, +but I enjoyed it too!--Lord send us once happily to London! + + + Mr. Lovelace gives the following account of his rude + rapture, when he seized her hand, and put her, by his WILD + manner, as she expresses it, Letter XXXIX. into such terror. + +Darkness and light, I swore, were convertible at her pleasure: she could +make any subject plausible. I was all error: she all perfection. And I +snatched her hand; and, more than kissed it, I was ready to devour it. +There was, I believe, a kind of phrensy in my manner, which threw her +into a panic, like that of Semele perhaps, when the Thunderer, in all +his majesty, surrounded with ten thousand celestial burning-glasses, was +about to scorch her into a cinder. + + +***** + + +Had not my heart misgiven me, and had I not, just in time, recollected +that she was not so much in my power, but that she might abandon me at +her pleasure, having more friends in that house than I had, I should at +that moment have made offers, that would have decided all, one way +or other.--But, apprehending that I had shewn too much meaning in my +passion, I gave it another turn.--But little did the charmer think that +an escape either she or I had (as the event might have proved) from +that sudden gust of passion, which had like to have blown me into +her arms.--She was born, I told her, to make me happy and to save a +soul.---- + + + He gives the rest of his vehement speech pretty nearly in + the same words as the Lady gives them: and then proceeds: + +I saw she was frighted: and she would have had reason had the scene been +London, and that place in London, which I have in view to carry her to. +She confirmed me in my apprehension, that I had alarmed her too much: +she told me, that she saw what my boasted regard to her injunctions was; +and she would take proper measures upon it, as I should find: that she +was shocked at my violent airs; and if I hoped any favour from her, I +must that instant withdraw, and leave her to her recollection. + +She pronounced this in such a manner as shewed she was set upon it; and, +having stepped out of the gentle, and polite part I had so newly engaged +to act, I thought ready obedience was the best atonement. And indeed I +was sensible, from her anger and repulses, that I wanted time myself +for recollection. And so I withdrew, with the same veneration as a +petitioning subject would withdraw from the presence of his sovereign. +But, O Belford! had she had but the least patience with me--had she but +made me think she would forgive this initiatory ardour--surely she will +not be always thus guarded.-- + +I had not been a moment by myself, but I was sensible that I had half +forfeited my newly-assumed character. It is exceedingly difficult, thou +seest, for an honest man to act in disguises: as the poet says, Thrust +Nature back with a pitchfork, it will return. I recollected, that what +she had insisted upon was really a part of that declared will before she +left her father's house, to which in another case (to humble her) I had +pretended to have an inviolable regard. And when I had remembered her +words of taking her measures accordingly, I was resolved to sacrifice +a leg or an arm to make all up again, before she had time to determine +upon any new measures. + +How seasonably to this purpose have come in my aunt's and cousin's +letters! + + +***** + + +I have sent in again and again to implore her to admit me to her +presence. But she will conclude a letter she is writing to Miss Howe, +before she will see me.--I suppose to give her an account of what has +just passed. + + +***** + + +Curse upon her perverse tyranny! How she makes me wait for an humble +audience, though she has done writing for some time! A prince begging +for her upon his knees should not prevail upon me to spare her, if I can +but get her to London--Oons! Jack, I believe I have bit my lip through +for vexation!--But one day her's shall smart for it. + + + Mr. Lovelace, beginning a new date, gives an account of his + admittance, and of the conversation that followed: which + differing only in style from that of the Lady gives in the + next letter is omitted. + + He collects the lady's expressions, which his pride cannot + bear: such as, That he is a stranger to the decorums which + she thought inseparable from a man of birth and education; + and that he is not the accomplished man he imagines himself + to be; and threatens to remember them against her. + + He values himself upon his proposals and speeches, which he + gives to his friend pretty much to the same purpose that + the Lady does in her four last letters. + + After mentioning his proposal to her that she would borrow a + servant from Miss Howe, till Hannah could come, he writes + as follows: + +Thou seest, Belford, that my charmer has no notion that Miss Howe +herself is but a puppet danced upon my wires at second or third hand. To +outwit, and impel, as I please, two such girls as these, who think they +know every thing; and, by taking advantage of the pride and ill-nature +of the old ones of both families, to play them off likewise at the very +time they think they are doing me spiteful displeasure; what charming +revenge!--Then the sweet creature, when I wished that her brother was +not at the bottom of Mrs. Howe's resentment, to tell me, that she was +afraid he was, or her uncle would not have appeared against her to that +lady!--Pretty dear! how innocent! + +But don't think me the cause neither of her family's malice and +resentment. It is all in their hearts. I work but with their materials. +They, if left to their own wicked direction, would perhaps express their +revenge by fire and faggot; that is to say, by the private dagger, or +by Lord Chief Justices' warrants, by law, and so forth: I only point +the lightning, and teach it where to dart, without the thunder. In other +words, I only guide the effects: the cause is in their malignant hearts: +and while I am doing a little mischief, I prevent a great deal. + + +Thus he exalts on her mentioning London: + +I wanted her to propose London herself. This made me again mention +Windsor. If you would have a woman do one thing, you must always propose +another, and that the very contrary: the sex! the very sex! as I hope +to be saved!--Why, Jack, they lay a man under a necessity to deal doubly +with them! And, when they find themselves outwitted, they cry out upon +an honest fellow, who has been too hard for them at their own weapons. + +I could hardly contain myself. My heart was at my throat.--Down, down, +said I to myself, exuberant exultation! A sudden cough befriended me; +I again turned to her, all as indifferenced over as a girl at the first +long-expected question, who waits for two more. I heard out the rest of +her speech: and when she had done, instead of saying any thing to her +for London, I advised her to send for Mrs. Norton. + +As I knew she would be afraid of lying under obligation, I could have +proposed to do so much for the good woman and her son, as would have +made her resolve that I should do nothing: this, however, not merely to +avoid expense. But there was no such thing as allowing of the presence +of Mrs. Norton. I might as well have had her mother or her aunt Hervey +with her. Hannah, had she been able to come, and had she actually come, +I could have done well enough with. What do I keep fellows idling in the +country for, but to fall in love, and even to marry those whom I would +have them marry? Nor, upon second thoughts, would the presence of her +Norton, or of her aunt, or even of her mother, have saved the dear +creature, had I decreed her fall. + +How unequal is a modest woman to the adventure, when she throws herself +into the power of a rake! Punctilio will, at any time, stand for reason +with such an one. She cannot break through a well-tested modesty. None +but the impudent little rogues, who can name the parson and the church +before you think of either, and undress and go to bed before you the +next hour, should think of running away with a man. + + +***** + + +I am in the right train now. Every hour, I doubt not, will give me an +increasing interest in the affections of this proud beauty. I have just +carried unpoliteness far enough to make her afraid of me; and to shew +her, that I am no whiner. Every instance of politeness, now, will give +me double credit with her. My next point will be to make her acknowledge +a lambent flame, a preference of me to all other men, at least: and +then my happy hour is not far off. An acknowledged reciprocality in love +sanctifies every little freedom: and little freedoms beget greater. +And if she call me ungenerous, I can call her cruel. The sex love to be +called cruel. Many a time have I complained of cruelty, even in the act +of yielding, because I knew it gratified the fair one's pride. + + +Mentioning that he had only hinted at Mr. Belford's lodgings as an instance to confirm what he had told her, that he knew of none in + London fit for her, he says, + +I had a mind to alarm her with something furthest from my purpose; for +(as much as she disliked my motion) I intend nothing by it: Mrs. Osgood +is too pious a woman; and would have been more her friend than mine. + +I had a view, moreover, to give her an high opinion of her own sagacity. +I love, when I dig a put, to have my prey tumble in with secure feet, +and open eyes: then a man can look down upon her, with an O-ho, charmer, +how came you there? + + +MONDAY, APRIL 17. + +I have just now received a fresh piece of intelligence from my agent, +honest Joseph Leman. Thou knowest the history of poor Miss Betterton of +Nottingham. James Harlowe is plotting to revive the resentments of her +family against me. The Harlowes took great pains, some time ago, to +endeavour to get to the bottom of that story. But now the foolish devils +are resolved to do something in it, if they can. My head is working to +make this booby 'squire a plotter, and a clever fellow, in order to turn +his plots to my advantage, supposing his sister shall aim to keep me +at arm's length when in town, and to send me from her. But I will, in +proper time, let thee see Joseph's letter, and what I shall answer to +it.* To know in time a designed mischief, is, with me, to disappoint it, +and to turn it upon the contriver's head. + + + * See Letters XLVII., XLVIII. of this volume. + + +Joseph is plaguy squeamish again; but I know he only intends by his +qualms to swell his merits with me. O Belford! Belford! what a vile +corruptible rogue, whether in poor or rich, is human nature! + + + + +LETTER XXXVI + +MISS HOWE, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE [IN ANSWER TO LETTERS +XXVIII.--XXXIV. INCLUSIVE.] TUESDAY, APRIL 18. + + +You have a most implacable family. Another visit from your uncle Antony +has not only confirmed my mother an enemy to our correspondence, but has +almost put her upon treading in their steps.-- + +But to other subjects: + +You plead generously for Mr. Hickman. Perhaps, with regard to him, I +may have done, as I have often done in singing--begun a note or key +too high; and yet, rather than begin again, proceed, though I strain +my voice, or spoil my tune. But this is evident, the man is the more +observant for it; and you have taught me, that the spirit which is the +humbler for ill usage, will be insolent upon better. So, good and grave +Mr. Hickman, keep your distance a little longer, I beseech you. You have +erected an altar to me; and I hope you will not refuse to bow to it. + +But you ask me, if I would treat Mr. Lovelace, were he to be in Mr. +Hickman's place, as I do Mr. Hickman? Why really, my dear, I believe I +should not.--I have been very sagely considering this point of behaviour +(in general) on both sides in courtship; and I will very candidly tell +you the result. I have concluded, that politeness, even to excess, +is necessary on the men's part, to bring us to listen to their first +addresses, in order to induce us to bow our necks to a yoke so unequal. +But, upon my conscience, I very much doubt whether a little intermingled +insolence is not requisite from them, to keep up that interest, when +once it has got footing. Men must not let us see, that we can make +fools of them. And I think, that smooth love; that is to say, a passion +without rubs; in other words, a passion without passion; is like a +sleepy stream that is hardly seen to give motion to a straw. So that, +sometimes to make us fear, and even, for a short space, to hate the +wretch, is productive of the contrary extreme. + +If this be so, Lovelace, than whom no man was ever more polite and +obsequious at the beginning, has hit the very point. For his turbulence +since, his readiness to offend, and his equal readiness to humble +himself, (as must keep a woman's passion alive); and at last tire her +into a non-resistance that shall make her as passive as a tyrant-husband +would wish her to be. + +I verily think, that the different behaviour of our two heroes to +their heroines make out this doctrine to demonstration. I am so much +accustomed, for my own part, to Hickman's whining, creeping, submissive +courtship, that I now expect nothing but whine and cringe from him: and +am so little moved with his nonsense, that I am frequently forced to go +to my harpsichord, to keep me awake, and to silence his humdrum. Whereas +Lovelace keeps up the ball with a witness, and all his address and +conversation is one continual game at raquet. + +Your frequent quarrels and reconciliations verify this observation: and +I really believe, that, could Hickman have kept my attention alive after +the Lovelace manner, only that he had preserved his morals, I should +have married the man by this time. But then he must have set out +accordingly. For now he can never, never recover himself, that's +certain; but must be a dangler to the end of the courtship-chapter; and, +what is still worse for him, a passive to the end of his life. + +Poor Hickman! perhaps you'll say. + +I have been called your echo--Poor Hickman! say I. + +You wonder, my dear, that Mr. Lovelace took not notice to you over-night +of the letters of Lady Betty and his cousin. I don't like his keeping +such a material and relative circumstance, as I may call it, one moment +from you. By his communicating the contents of them to you next day, +when you was angry with him, it looks as if he withheld them for +occasional pacifiers; and if so, must he not have had a forethought that +he might give you cause for anger? Of all the circumstances that have +happened since you have been with him, I think I like this the least: +this alone, my dear, small as it might look to an indifferent eye, in +mine warrants all your caution. Yet I think that Mrs. Greme's letter to +her sister Sorlings: his repeated motions for Hannah's attendance; and +for that of one of the widow Sorlings's daughters; and, above all, for +that of Mrs. Norton; are agreeable counterbalances. Were it not for +these circumstances, I should have said a great deal more of the other. +Yet what a foolish fellow, to let you know over-night that he had such +letters!--I can't tell what to make of him. + +I am pleased with the contents of these ladies' letters. And the more, +as I have caused the family to be again sounded, and find that they are +all as desirous as ever of your alliance. + +They really are (every one of them) your very great admirers. And as for +Lord M., he is so much pleased with you, and with the confidence, as +he calls it, which you have reposed in his nephew, that he vows he will +disinherit him, if he reward it not as he ought. You must take care, +that you lose not both families. + +I hear Mrs. Norton is enjoined, as she values the favour of the +other family, not to correspond either with you or with me--Poor +creatures!--But they are your--yet they are not your relations, neither, +I believe. Had you had any other nurse, I should have concluded you had +been changed. I suffer by their low malice--excuse me, therefore. + +You really hold this man to his good behaviour with more spirit than +I thought you mistress of; especially when I judged of you by that +meekness which you always contended for, as the proper distinction of +the female character; and by the love, which (think as you please) you +certainly have for him. You may rather be proud of than angry at the +imputation; since you are the only woman I ever knew, read, or heard +of, whose love was so much governed by her prudence. But when once the +indifference of the husband takes place of the ardour of the lover, it +will be your turn: and, if I am not mistaken, this man, who is the only +self-admirer I ever knew who was not a coxcomb, will rather in his day +expect homage than pay it. + +Your handsome husbands, my dear, make a wife's heart ache very often: +and though you are as fine a person of a woman, at the least, as he is +of a man, he will take too much delight in himself to think himself more +indebted to your favour, than you are to his distinction and preference +of you. But no man, take your finer mind with your very fine person, can +deserve you. So you must be contented, should your merit be underrated; +since that must be so, marry whom you will. Perhaps you will think I +indulge these sort of reflections against your Narcissus's of men, to +keep my mother's choice for me of Hickman in countenance with myself--I +don't know but there is something in it; at least, enough to have given +birth to the reflection. + +I think there can be no objection to your going to London. There, as +in the centre, you will be in the way of hearing from every body, and +sending to any body. And then you will put all his sincerity to the +test, as to his promised absence, and such like. + +But indeed, my dear, I think you have nothing for it but marriage. You +may try (that you may say you have tried) what your relations can be +brought to: but the moment they refuse your proposals, submit to the +yoke, and make the best of it. He will be a savage, indeed, if he makes +you speak out. Yet, it is my opinion, that you must bend a little; for +he cannot bear to be thought slightly of. + +This was one of his speeches once; I believe designed for me--'A woman +who means one day to favour her lover with her hand, should show the +world, for her own sake, that she distinguishes him from the common +herd.' + +Shall I give you another very fine sentence of his, and in the +true libertine style, as he spoke it, throwing out his challenging +hand?--'D--n him, if he would marry the first princess on earth, if +he but thought she balanced a minute in her choice of him, or of an +emperor.' + +All the world, in short, expect you to have this man. They think, that +you left your father's house for this very purpose. The longer the +ceremony is delayed, the worse appearance it will have in the world's +eye. And it will not be the fault of some of your relations, if a slur +be not thrown upon your reputation, while you continue unmarried. Your +uncle Antony, in particular, speaks rough and vile things, grounded upon +the morals of his brother Orson. But hitherto your admirable character +has antidoted the poison; the detractor is despised, and every one's +indignation raised against him. + +I have written through many interruptions: and you will see the first +sheet creased and rumpled, occasioned by putting it into my bosom on my +mother's sudden coming upon me. We have had one very pretty debate, +I will assure you; but it is not worth while to trouble you with the +particulars.--But upon my world--no matter though-- + +Your Hannah cannot attend you. The poor girl left her place about a +fortnight ago, on account of the rheumatic disorder, which has confined +her to her room ever since. She burst into tears, when Kitty carried +to her your desire of having her with you; and called herself doubly +unhappy, that she could not wait upon a mistress whom she so dearly +loved. + +Had my mother answered my wishes, I should have been sorry Mr. Lovelace +had been the first proposer of my Kitty for your attendant, till Hannah +should come. To be altogether among strangers, and a stranger to attend +you every time you remove, is a very disagreeable thing. But your +considerateness and bounty will make you faithful ones wherever you go. + +You must take your own way: but, if you suffer any inconvenience, either +as to clothes or money, that it is in my power to remedy, I will never +forgive you. My mother, (if that is your objection) need not know any +thing of the matter. + +We have all our defects: we have often regretted the particular fault, +which, though in venerable characters, we must have been blind not to +see. + +I remember what you once said to me; and the caution was good: Let us, +my Nancy, were your words; let us, who have not the same failings +as those we censure, guard against other and greater in ourselves. +Nevertheless, I must needs tell you, that my mother has vexed me a +little very lately, by some instances of her jealous narrowness. I will +mention one of them, though I did not intend it. She wanted to borrow +thirty guineas of me: only while she got a note changed. I said I could +lend her but eight or ten. Eight or ten would not do: she thought I was +much richer. I could have told her, I was much cunninger than to let her +know my stock; which, on a review, I find ninety-five guineas; and all +of them most heartily at your service. + +I believe your uncle Tony put her upon this wise project; for she was +out of cash in an hour after he left her. + +If he did, you will judge that they intend to distress you. If it will +provoke you to demand your own in a legal way, I wish they would; since +their putting you upon that course will justify the necessity of your +leaving them. And as it is not for your credit to own that you were +tricked away contrary to your intention, this would afford a reason for +your going off, that I should make very good use of. You'll see, that +I approve of Lovelace's advice upon this subject. I am not willing to +allow the weight of your answer to him on that head, which perhaps ought +to be allowed it.* + + + * See Letter XXXI. of this volume. + + +You must be the less surprised at the inventions of this man, because of +his uncommon talents. Whatever he had turned his head to, he would have +excelled in; or been (or done things) extraordinary. He is said to be +revengeful: a very bad quality! I believe, indeed, he is a devil +in every thing but his foot--this, therefore, is my repeated +advice--provoke him not too much against yourself: but unchain him, and +let him loose upon your sister' Betty, and your brother's Joseph Leman. +This is resenting low: but I know to whom I write, or else I would go a +good deal higher, [I'll assure you.] + +Your next, I suppose, will be from London. Pray direct it, and your +future letters, till further notice, to Mr. Hickman, at his own house. +He is entirely devoted to you. Don't take so heavily my mother's +partiality and prejudices. I hope I am past a baby. + +Heaven preserve you, and make you as happy as I think you deserve to be, +prays + +Your ever affectionate ANNA HOWE. + + + + +LETTER XXXVII + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE WEDN. MORNING, APRIL 19. + + +I am glad, my dear friend, that you approve of my removal to London. + +The disagreement between your mother and you gives me inexpressible +affliction. I hope I think you both more unhappy than you are. But I +beseech you let me know the particulars of the debate you call a very +pretty one. I am well acquainted with your dialect. When I am informed +of the whole, let your mother have been ever so severe upon me, I +shall be easier a great deal.--Faulty people should rather deplore the +occasion they have given for anger than resent it. + +If I am to be obliged to any body in England for money, it shall be to +you. Your mother need not know of your kindness to me, you say--but she +must know it, if it be done, and if she challenge my beloved friend upon +it; for would you either falsify or prevaricate?--I wish your mother +could be made easy on this head--forgive me, my dear,--but I +know--Yet once she had a better opinion of me.--O my inconsiderate +rashness!--Excuse me once more, I pray you.--Pride, when it is native, +will shew itself sometimes in the midst of mortifications--but my +stomach is down already. + + +***** + + +I am unhappy that I cannot have my worthy Hannah. I am sorry for the +poor creature's illness as for my own disappointment by it. Come, my +dear Miss Howe, since you press me to be beholden to you: and would +think me proud if I absolutely refused your favour; pray be so good as +to send her two guineas in my name. + +If I have nothing for it, as you say, but matrimony, it yields little +comfort, that his relations do not despise the fugitive, as persons of +their rank and quality-pride might be supposed to do, for having been a +fugitive. + +But O my cruel, thrice cruel uncle! to suppose--but my heart checks my +pen, and will not let it proceed, on an intimation so extremely shocking +as that which he supposes!--Yet, if thus they have been persuaded, no +wonder if they are irreconcilable. + +This is all my hard-hearted brother's doings!--His surmisings:--God +forgive him--prays his injured sister! + + + + +LETTER XXXVIII + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE THURSDAY, APRIL 20. + + +Mr. Lovelace's servant is already returned with an answer from his +friend Mr. Doleman, who has taken pains in his inquiries, and is very +particular. Mr. Lovelace brought me the letter as soon as he had read +it: and as he now knows that I acquaint you with every thing that he +offers, I desired him to let me send it to you for your perusal. Be +pleased to return it by the first opportunity. You will see by it, that +his friends in town have a notion that we are actually married. + + +TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ. TUESDAY NIGHT, APRIL 18. + +DEAR SIR, + +I am extremely rejoiced to hear, that we shall so soon have you in town +after so long an absence. You will be the more welcome still, if what +report says, be true; which is, that you are actually married to the +fair lady upon whom we have heard you make such encomiums. Mrs. Doleman, +and my sister, both wish you joy if you are; and joy upon your near +prospect if you are not. + +I have been in town for this week past, to get help if I could, from my +paralytic complaints; and am in a course for them. Which, nevertheless, +did not prevent me from making the desired inquiries. This is the +result. + +You may have a first floor, well furnished, at a mercer's in +Belford-street, Covent-garden, with conveniencies for servants: and +these either by the quarter or month. The terms according to the +conveniences required. + +Mrs. Doleman has seen lodgings in Norfolk-street and others in +Cecil-street; but though the prospects to the Thames and Surrey-hills +look inviting from both these streets, yet I suppose they are too near +the city. + +The owner of those in Norfolk-street would have half the house go +together. It would be too much for your description therefore: and +I suppose, that when you think fit to declare your marriage, you will +hardly be in lodgings. + +Those in Cecil-street are neat and convenient. The owner is a widow of +a good character; and she insists, that you take them for a twelvemonth +certain. + +You may have good accommodations in Dover-street, at a widow's, +the relict of an officer in the guards, who dying soon after he had +purchased his commission (to which he had a good title by service, +and which cost him most part of what he had) she was obliged to let +lodgings. + +This may possibly be an objection. But she is very careful, she says, +that she takes no lodgers, but of figure and reputation. She rents two +good houses, distant from each other, only joined by a large handsome +passage. The inner-house is the genteelest, and very elegantly +furnished; but you may have the use of a very handsome parlour in the +outer-house, if you choose to look into the street. + +A little garden belongs to the inner-house, in which the old gentlewoman +has displayed a true female fancy; having crammed it with vases, +flower-pots, and figures, without number. + +As these lodgings seemed to me the most likely to please you, I was more +particular in my inquiries about them. The apartments she has to let +are in the inner-house: they are a dining-room, two neat parlours, a +withdrawing-room, two or three handsome bedchambers, one with a pretty +light closet in it, which looks into the little garden, all furnished in +taste. + +A dignified clergyman, his wife, and maiden daughter were the last who +lived in them. They have but lately quitted them, on his being presented +to a considerable church preferment in Ireland. The gentlewoman says +that he took the lodgings but for three months certain; but liked them +and her usage so well, that he continued in them two years; and left +them with regret, though on so good an account. She bragged, that this +was the way of all the lodgers she ever had, who staid with her four +times as long as they at first intended. + +I had some knowledge of the colonel, who was always looked upon as a man +of honour. His relict I never saw before. I think she has a masculine +air, and is a little forbidding at first: but when I saw her behaviour +to two agreeable gentlewomen, her husband's nieces, whom, for that +reason, she calls doubly hers, and heard their praises of her, I could +impute her very bulk to good humour; since we seldom see your sour +peevish people plump. She lives reputably, and is, as I find, aforehand +in the world. + +If these, or any other of the lodgings I have mentioned, be not +altogether to your lady's mind, she may continue in them the less while, +and choose others for herself. + +The widow consents that you shall take them for a month only, and what +of them you please. The terms, she says, she will not fall out upon, +when she knows what your lady expects, and what her servants are to do, +or yours will undertake; for she observed that servants are generally +worse to deal with than their masters or mistresses. + +The lady may board or not as she pleases. + +As we suppose you were married, but that you have reason, from +family-differences, to keep it private for the present, I thought it not +amiss to hint as much to the widow (but as uncertainty, however); +and asked her, if she could, in that case, accommodate you and your +servants, as well as the lady and hers? She said, she could; and wished, +by all means, it were to be so: since the circumstance of a person's +being single, it not as well recommended as this lady, was one of the +usual exceptions. + +If none of these lodgings please, you need not doubt very handsome ones +in or near Hanover-square, Soho-square, Golden-square, or in some of the +new streets about Grosvenor-square. And Mrs. Doleman, her sister, +and myself, most cordially join to offer to your good lady the best +accommodations we can make for her at Uxbridge (and also for you, if you +are the happy man we wish you to be), till she fits herself more to her +mind. + +Let me add, that the lodgings at the mercer's, those in Cecil-street, +those at the widow's in Dover-street, any of them, may be entered upon +at a day's warning. + +I am, my dear Sir, Your sincere and affectionate friend and servant, +THO. DOLEMAN. + + +You will easily guess, my dear, when you have read the letter, which +lodgings I made choice of. But first to try him, (as in so material +a point I thought I could not be too circumspect,) I seemed to prefer +those in Norfolk-street, for the very reason the writer gives why he +thought I would not; that is to say, for its neighbourhood to a city +so well governed as London is said to be. Nor should I have disliked a +lodging in the heart of it, having heard but indifferent accounts of the +liberties sometimes taken at the other end of the town.--Then seeming +to incline to the lodgings in Cecil-street--Then to the mercer's. But +he made no visible preference; and when I asked his opinion of the +widow gentlewoman's, he said he thought those the most to my taste and +convenience: but as he hoped that I would think lodgings necessary but +for a very little while, he knew not which to give his vote for. + +I then fixed upon the widow's; and he has written accordingly to Mr. +Doleman, making my compliments to his lady and sister, for their kind +offer. + +I am to have the dining-room, the bed-chamber with the light-closet, (of +which, if I stay any time at the widow's, I shall make great use,) and a +servant's room; and we propose to set out on Saturday morning. As for +a maid servant, poor Hannah's illness is a great disappointment to me: +but, as he observes, I can make the widow satisfaction for one of +hers, till I can get a servant to my mind. And you know I want not much +attendance. + + +***** + + +Mr. Lovelace has just now, of his own accord, given me five guineas for +poor Hannah. I send them inclosed. Be so good as to cause them to be +conveyed to her, and to let her know from whom they came. + +He has obliged me much by this little mark of his considerateness. +Indeed I have the better opinion of him ever since he proposed her +return to me. + + +***** + + +I have just now another instance of his considerateness. He came to me, +and said that, on second thoughts, he could not bear that I should go up +to town without some attendant, were it but for the look of the thing to +the London widow and her nieces, who, according to his friend's account, +lived so genteelly; and especially as I required him to leave me so soon +after I arrived there, and so would be left alone among strangers. He +therefore sought that I might engage Mrs. Sorlings to lend me one of her +two maids, or let one of her daughters go up with me, and stay till I +were provided. And if the latter, the young gentlewoman, no doubt, would +be glad of so good an opportunity to see the curiosities of the town, +and would be a proper attendant on the same occasions. + +I told him as I had done before, that the two young gentlewomen were so +equally useful in their way, and servants in a busy farm were so little +to be spared, that I should be loth to take them off their laudable +employments. Nor should I think much of diversions for one while; and so +the less want an attendant out of doors. + +And now, my dear, lest any thing should happen, in so variable a +situation as mine, (which at present are more promising than ever yet +they have been since I quitted Harlowe-place,) I will snatch the +opportunity to subscribe myself + +Your not unhoping and ever-obliged friend and servant, CL. HARLOWE. + + + + +LETTER XXXIX + +MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. THURSDAY, APRIL 20. + + + He begins with communicating to him the letter he wrote to + Mr. Doleman, to procure suitable lodgings in town, and which + he sent away by the Lady's approbation: and then gives him a + copy of the answer to it (see p. 218): upon which he thus + expresses himself: + +Thou knowest the widow; thou knowest her nieces; thou knowest the +lodgings: and didst thou ever read a letter more artfully couched +than this of Tom Doleman? Every possible objection anticipated! Every +accident provided against! Every tittle of it plot-proof! + +Who could forbear smiling, to see my charmer, like a farcical dean and +chapter, choose what was before chosen for her; and sagaciously (as they +go in form to prayers, that Heaven would direct their choice) pondering +upon the different proposals, as if she would make me believe she had +a mind for some other? The dear sly rogue looking upon me, too, with a +view to discover some emotion in me. Emotions I had; but I can tell +her that they lay deeper than her eye could reach, though it had been a +sun-beam. + +No confidence in me, fair one! None at all, 'tis plain. Thou wilt +not, if I were inclined to change my views, encourage me by a generous +reliance on my honour!--And shall it be said that I, a master of arts in +love, shall be overmatched by so unpractised a novice? + +But to see the charmer so far satisfied with my contrivance as to borrow +my friend's letter, in order to satisfy Miss Howe likewise--! + +Silly little rogues! to walk out into bye-paths on the strength of their +own judgment!--When nothing but experience can enable them to disappoint +us, and teach them grandmother-wisdom! When they have it indeed, then +may they sit down, like so many Cassandras, and preach caution to +others; who will as little mind them as they did their instructresses, +whenever a fine handsome confidant young fellow, such a one as thou +knowest who, comes across them. + +But, Belford, didst thou not mind that sly rogue Doleman's naming +Dover-street for the widow's place of abode?--What dost thou think +could be meant by that?--'Tis impossible thou shouldst guess, so, not +to puzzle thee about it, suppose the Widow Sinclair's in Dover-street +should be inquired after by some officious person, in order to come at +characters [Miss Howe is as sly as the devil, and as busy to the full,] +and neither such a name, nor such a house, can be found in that street, +nor a house to answer the description; then will not the keenest hunter +in England be at a fault? + +But how wilt thou do, methinks thou askest, to hinder the lady from +resenting the fallacy, and mistrusting thee the more on that account, +when she finds it out to be in another street? + +Pho! never mind that: either I shall have a way for it, or we shall +thoroughly understand one another by that time; or if we don't, she'll +know enough of me, not to wonder at such a peccadilla. + +But how wilt thou hinder the lady from apprizing her friend of the real +name? + +She must first know it herself, monkey, must she not? + +Well, but how wilt thou do to hinder her from knowing the street, and +her friend from directing letters thither, which will be the same thing +as if the name were known? + +Let me alone for that too. + +If thou further objectest, that Tom Doleman, is too great a dunce to +write such a letter in answer to mine:--Canst thou not imagine that, in +order to save honest Tom all this trouble, I who know the town so well, +could send him a copy of what he should write, and leave him nothing to +do but transcribe? + +What now sayest thou to me, Belford? + +And suppose I had designed this task of inquiry for thee; and suppose +the lady excepted against thee for no other reason in the world, but +because of my value for thee? What sayest thou to the lady, Jack? + +This it is to have leisure upon my hands!--What a matchless plotter +thy friend!--Stand by, and let me swell!--I am already as big as an +elephant, and ten times wiser!--Mightier too by far! Have I not reason +to snuff the moon with my proboscis?--Lord help thee for a poor, for a +very poor creature!--Wonder not that I despise thee heartily; since the +man who is disposed immoderately to exalt himself, cannot do it but by +despising every body else in proportion. + +I shall make good use of the Dolemanic hint of being married. But I will +not tell thee all at once. Nor, indeed, have I thoroughly digested that +part of my plot. When a general must regulate himself by the motions of +a watchful adversary, how can he say beforehand what he will, or what he +will not, do? + +Widow SINCLAIR, didst thou not say, Lovelace?-- + +Ay, SINCLAIR, Jack!--Remember the name! SINCLAIR, I repeat. She has no +other. And her features being broad and full-blown, I will suppose her +to be of Highland extraction; as her husband the colonel [mind that too] +was a Scot, as brave, as honest. + +I never forget the minutiae in my contrivances. In all matters that +admit of doubt, the minutiae, closely attended to and provided for, are +of more service than a thousand oaths, vows, and protestations made to +supply the neglect of them, especially when jealousy has made its way in +the working mind. + +Thou wouldst wonder if thou knewest one half of my providences. To give +thee but one--I have already been so good as to send up a list of books +to be procured for the lady's closet, mostly at second hand. And +thou knowest that the women there are all well read. But I will not +anticipate--Besides, it looks as if I were afraid of leaving any thing +to my old friend CHANCE; which has many a time been an excellent second +to me, and ought not be affronted or despised; especially by one who has +the art of making unpromising incidents turn out in his favour. + + + + +LETTER XL + +MISS HOWE, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE WEDNESDAY, APRIL 19. + + +I have a piece of intelligence to give you, which concerns you much to +know. + +Your brother having been assured that you are not married, has taken a +resolution to find you out, waylay you, and carry you off. A friend of +his, a captain of a ship, undertakes to get you on ship-board, and to +sail away with you, either to Hull or Leith, in the way to one of your +brother's houses. + +They are very wicked: for in spite of your virtue they conclude you to +be ruined. But if they can be assured when they have you that you are +not, they will secure you till they can bring you out Mrs. Solmes. Mean +time, in order to give Mr. Lovelace full employment, they talk of a +prosecution which will be set up against him, for some crime they have +got a notion of, which they think, if it do not cost him his life, will +make him fly his country. + +This is very early news. Miss Bell told it in confidence, and with +mighty triumph over Lovelace, to Miss Lloyd, who is at present her +favourite, though as much you admirer as ever. Miss Lloyd, being very +apprehensive of the mischief which might follow such an attempt, told +it to me, with leave to apprize you privately of it--and yet neither +she nor I would be sorry, perhaps, if Lovelace were to be fairly +hanged--that is to say, if you, my dear, had no objection to it. But +we cannot bear that such an admirable creature should be made the +tennis-ball of two violent spirits--much less that you should be seized, +and exposed to the brutal treatment of wretches who have no bowels. + +If you can engage Mr. Lovelace to keep his temper upon it, I think you +should acquaint him with it, but not to mention Miss Lloyd. Perhaps his +wicked agent may come at the intelligence, and reveal it to him. But +leave it to your own discretions to do as you think fit in it. All my +concern is, that this daring and foolish project, if carried on, will +be a mean of throwing you more into his power than ever. But as it will +convince you that there can be no hope of a reconciliation, I wish you +were actually married, let the cause for prosecution hinted at be what +it will, short of murder or a rape. + +Your Hannah was very thankful for your kind present. She heaped a +thousand blessings upon you for it. She has Mr. Lovelace's too by this +time. + +I am pleased with Mr. Hickman, I can tell you:--for he has sent her +two guineas by the person who carries Mr. Lovelace's five, as from an +unknown hand: nor am I, or you, to know it. But he does a great many +things of this sort, and is as silent as the night in his charities; for +nobody knows of them till the gratitude of the benefited will not let +them be concealed. He is now and then my almoner, and, I believe, always +adds to my little benefactions. + +But his time is not come to be praised to his face for these things; nor +does he seem to want that encouragement. + +The man certainly has a good mind. Nor can we expect in one man every +good quality. But he is really a silly fellow, my dear, to trouble his +head about me, when he sees how much I despise his whole sex; and +must of course make a common man look like a fool, were he not to +make himself look like one, by wishing to pitch his tent so oddly. Our +likings and dislikings, as I have often thought, are seldom governed by +prudence, or with a view to happiness. The eye, my dear, the wicked eye, +has such a strict alliance with the heart--and both have such enmity to +the judgment!--What an unequal union, the mind and body! All the senses, +like the family at Harlowe-place, in a confederacy against that which +would animate, and give honour to the whole, were it allowed its proper +precedence. + +Permit me, I beseech you, before you go to London to send you +forty-eight guineas. I mention that sum to oblige you, because, by +accepting back the two to Hannah, I will hold you indebted to me +fifty.--Surely this will induce you! You know that I cannot want the +money. I told you that I had near double that sum, and that the half of +it is more than my mother knows I am mistress of. You are afraid that my +mother will question me on this subject; and then you think I must own +the truth. But little as I love equivocation, and little as you would +allow of it in your Anna Howe, it is hard if I cannot (were I to be put +to it ever so closely) find something to say that would bring me off, +as you have, what can you do at such a place as London?--You don't know +what occasion you may have for messengers, intelligence, and suchlike. +If you don't oblige me, I shall not think your stomach so much down as +you say it is, and as, in this one particular, I think it ought to be. + +As to the state of things between my mother and me, you know enough of +her temper, not to need to be told that she never espouses or resents +with indifference. Yet will she not remember that I am her daughter. No, +truly, I am all my papa's girl. + +She was very sensible, surely, of the violence of my poor father's +temper, that she can so long remember that, when acts of tenderness and +affection seem quite forgotten. Some daughters would be tempted to think +that controul sat very heavy upon a mother, who can endeavour to exert +the power she has over a child, and regret, for years after death, that +she had not the same over a husband. + +If this manner of expression becomes not me of my mother, the fault will +be somewhat extenuated by the love I always bore to my father, and by +the reverence I shall ever pay to his memory: for he was a fond father, +and perhaps would have been as tender a husband, had not my mother and +he been too much of a temper to agree. + +The misfortune was, in short, that when one was out of humour, the +other would be so too: yet neither of their tempers comparatively +bad. Notwithstanding all which, I did not imagine, girl as I was in my +father's life-time, that my mother's part of the yoke sat so heavy upon +her neck as she gives me room to think it did, whenever she is pleased +to disclaim her part of me. + +Both parents, as I have often thought, should be very careful, if they +would secure to themselves the undivided love of their children, that, +of all things, they should avoid such durable contentions with each +other, as should distress their children in choosing their party, when +they would be glad to reverence both as they ought. + +But here is the thing: there is not a better manager of affairs in the +sex than my mother; and I believe a notable wife is more impatient of +controul than an indolent one. An indolent one, perhaps, thinks she +has some thing to compound for; while women of the other character, I +suppose, know too well their own significance to think highly of that of +any body else. All must be their own way. In one word, because they are +useful, they will be more than useful. + +I do assure you, my dear, were I man, and a man who loved my quiet, I +would not have one of these managing wives on any consideration. I would +make it a matter of serious inquiry beforehand, whether my mistress's +qualifications, if I heard she was notable, were masculine or feminine +ones. If indeed I were an indolent supine mortal, who might be in danger +of perhaps choosing to marry for the qualifications of a steward. + +But, setting my mother out of the question, because she is my mother, +have I not seen how Lady Hartley pranks up herself above all her sex, +because she knows how to manage affairs that do not belong to her sex +to manage?--Affairs that do no credit to her as a woman to understand; +practically, I mean; for the theory of them may not be amiss to be +known. + +Indeed, my dear, I do not think a man-woman a pretty character at all: +and, as I said, were I a man, I would sooner choose a dove, though it +were fit for nothing but, as the play says, to go tame about house, +and breed, than a wife that is setting at work (my insignificant self +present perhaps) every busy our my never-resting servants, those of +the stud not excepted; and who, with a besom in her hand, as I may say, +would be continually filling my with apprehensions that she wanted to +sweep me out of my own house as useless lumber. + +Were indeed the mistress of a family (like the wonderful young lady I so +much and so justly admire) to know how to confine herself within her own +respectable rounds of the needle, the pen, the housekeeper's bills, the +dairy for her amusement; to see the poor fed from superfluities that +would otherwise be wasted, and exert herself in all the really-useful +branches of domestic management; then would she move in her proper +sphere; then would she render herself amiably useful, and respectably +necessary; then would she become the mistress-wheel of the family, +[whatever you think of your Anna Howe, I would not have her be the +master-wheel,] and every body would love her; as every body did you, +before your insolent brother came back, flushed with his unmerited +acquirements, and turned all things topsy-turvy. + +If you will be informed of the particulars of our contention, after +you have known in general that your unhappy affair was the subject, why +then, I think I must tell you. + +Yet how shall I?==I feel my cheek glow with mingled shame and +indignation.--Know then, my dear,--that I have been--as I may say--that +I have been beaten--indeed 'tis true. My mother thought fit to slap my +hands to get from me a sheet of a letter she caught me writing to you; +which I tore, because she should not read it, and burnt it before her +face. + +I know this will trouble you: so spare yourself the pains to tell me it +does. + +Mr. Hickman came in presently after. I would not see him. I am either +too much a woman to be beat, or too much a child to have an humble +servant--so I told my mother. What can one oppose but sullens, when it +would be unpardonable so much as to think of lifting up a finger? + +In the Harlowe style, She will be obeyed, she says: and even Mr. Hickman +shall be forbid the house, if he contributes to the carrying on of a +correspondence which she will not suffer to be continued. + +Poor man! He stands a whimsical chance between us. But he knows he is +sure of my mother; but not of me. 'Tis easy then for him to choose his +party, were it not his inclination to serve you, as it surely is. And +this makes him a merit with me, which otherwise he would not have had; +notwithstanding the good qualities which I have just now acknowledged in +his favour. For, my dear, let my faults in other respects be what they +may, I will pretend to say, that I have in my own mind those qualities +which I praised him for. And if we are to come together, I could for +that reason better dispense with them in him.--So if a husband, who has +a bountiful-tempered wife, is not a niggard, nor seeks to restrain her, +but has an opinion of all she does, that is enough for him: as, on the +contrary, if a bountiful-tempered husband has a frugal wife, it is +best for both. For one to give, and the other to give, except they have +prudence, and are at so good an understanding with each other as to +compare notes, they may perhaps put it out of their power to be just. +Good frugal doctrine, my dear! But this way of putting it is middling +the matter between what I have learnt of my mother's over-prudent and +your enlarged notions.--But from doctrine to fact-- + +I shut myself up all that day; and what little I did eat, eat alone. But +at night she sent up Kitty with a command, upon my obedience, to attend +her at supper. + +I went down; but most gloriously in the sullens. YES, and NO, were great +words with me, to every thing she asked, for a good while. + +That behaviour, she told me, should not do for her. + +Beating should not do for me, I said. + +My bold resistance, she told me, had provoked her to slap my hand; and +she was sorry to have been so provoked. But again insisted that I would +either give up my correspondence absolutely, or let her see all that +passed in it. + +I must not do either, I told her. It was unsuitable both to my +inclination and to my honour, at the instigation of base minds to give +up a friend in distress. + +She rung all the maternal changes upon the words duty, obedience, filial +obligation, and so forth. + +I told her that a duty too rigorously and unreasonably exacted had been +your ruin, if you were ruined. + +If I were of age to be married, I hope she would think me capable +of making, or at least of keeping, my own friendships; such a one +especially as this, with a woman too, and one whose friendship she +herself, till this distressful point of time, had thought the most +useful and edifying that I had ever contracted. + +The greater the merit, the worse the action: the finer the talents, the +more dangerous the example. + +There were other duties, I said, besides the filial one; and I hoped I +need not give up a suffering friend, especially at the instigation of +those by whom she suffered. I told her, that it was very hard to annex +such a condition as that to my duty; when I was persuaded, that both +duties might be performed, without derogating from either: that an +unreasonable command (she must excuse me, I must say it, though I were +slapped again) was a degree of tyranny: and I could not have expected, +that at these years I should be allowed now will, no choice of my +own! where a woman only was concerned, and the devilish sex not in the +question. + +What turned most in favour of her argument was, that I desired to be +excused from letting her read all that passes between us. She insisted +much upon this: and since, she said, you were in the hands of the +most intriguing man in the world, and a man who had made a jest of +her favourite Hickman, as she had been told, she knows not what +consequences, unthought of by your or me, may flow from such a +correspondence. + +So you see, my dear, that I fare the worse on Mr. Hickman's account! +My mother might see all that passes between us, did I not know, that +it would cramp your spirit, and restrain the freedom of your pen, as +it would also the freedom of mine: and were she not moreover so firmly +attached to the contrary side, that inferences, consequences, strained +deductions, censures, and constructions the most partial, would for +ever to be haled in to tease me, and would perpetually subject us to the +necessity of debating and canvassing. + +Besides, I don't choose that she should know how much this artful wretch +has outwitted, as I may call it, a person so much his superior in all +the nobler qualities of the human mind. + +The generosity of your heart, and the greatness of your soul, full well +I know; but do offer to dissuade me from this correspondence. + +Mr. Hickman, immediately on the contention above, offered his service; +and I accepted of it, as you will see by my last. He thinks, though +he has all honour for my mother, that she is unkind to us both. He was +pleased to tell me (with an air, as I thought) that he not only approved +of our correspondence, but admired the steadiness of my friendship; and +having no opinion of your man, but a great one of me, thinks that my +advice or intelligence from time to time may be of use to you; and +on this presumption said, that it would be a thousand pities that you +should suffer for want of either. + +Mr. Hickman pleased me in the main of his speech; and it is well the +general tenor of it was agreeable; otherwise I can tell him, I should +have reckoned with him for his word approve; for it is a style I have +not yet permitted him to talk to me in. And you see, my dear, what these +men are--no sooner do they find that you have favoured them with the +power of doing you an agreeable service, but they take upon them to +approve, forsooth, of your actions! By which is implied a right to +disapprove, if they think fit. + +I have told my mother how much you wish to be reconciled to your +relations, and how independent you are upon Lovelace. + +Mark the end of the latter assertion, she says. And as to +reconciliation, she knows that nothing will do, (and will have it, that +nothing ought to do,) but your returning back, without presuming to +condition with them. And this if you do, she says, will best show your +independence on Lovelace. + +You see, my dear, what your duty is, in my mother's opinion. + +I suppose your next, directed to Mr. Hickman, at his own house, will be +from London. + +Heaven preserve you in honour and safety, is my prayer. + +What you do for change of clothes, I cannot imagine. + +It is amazing to me what your relations can mean by distressing you, +as they seem resolved to do. I see they will throw you into his arms, +whether you will or not. + +I send this by Robert, for dispatch-sake: and can only repeat the +hitherto-rejected offer of my best services. Adieu, my dearest friend. +Believe me ever + +Your affectionate and faithful ANNA HOWE. + + + + +LETTER XLI + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE TUESDAY, APRIL 20. + + +I should think myself utterly unworthy of your friendship did not my +own concerns, heavy as they are, so engross me, that I could not find +leisure for a few lines to declare to my beloved friend my sincere +disapprobation of her conduct, in an instance where she is so generously +faulty, that the consciousness of that very generosity may hide from +her the fault, which I, more than any other, have reason to deplore, as +being the unhappy occasion of it. + +You know, you say, that your account of the contentions between your +mother and you will trouble me; and so you bid me spare myself the pains +to tell you that they do. + +You did not use, my dear, to forbid me thus beforehand. You were wont +to say, you loved me the better for my expostulations with you on that +acknowledged warmth and quickness of your temper which your own good +sense taught you to be apprehensive of. What though I have so miserably +fallen, and am unhappy, if ever I had any judgment worth regarding, it +is now as much worth as ever, because I can give it as freely against +myself as against any body else. And shall I not, when there seems to be +an infection in my fault, and that it leads you likewise to resolve to +carry on a correspondence against prohibition, expostulate with you upon +it; when whatever consequences flow from your disobedience, they but +widen my error, which is as the evil root, from which such sad branches +spring? + +The mind that can glory in being capable of so noble, so firm, so +unshaken friendship, as that of my dear Miss Howe; a friendship which +no casualty or distress can lessen, but which increases with the +misfortunes of its friend--such a mind must be above taking amiss +the well-meant admonitions of that distinguished friend. I will not +therefore apologize for my freedom on this subject: and the less need I, +when that freedom is the result of an affection, in the very instance, +so absolutely disinterested, that it tends to deprive myself of the only +comfort left me. + +Your acknowledged sullens; your tearing from your mother's hands the +letter she thought she had a right to see, and burning it, as you own, +before her face; your refusal to see the man, who is so willing to obey +you for the sake of your unhappy friend, and this purely to vex your +mother; can you think, my dear, upon this brief recapitulation of hardly +one half of the faulty particulars you give, that these faults are +excusable in one who so well knows her duty? + +Your mother had a good opinion of me once: is not that a reason why she +should be more regarded now, when I have, as she believes, so deservedly +forfeited it? A prejudice in favour is as hard to be totally overcome as +a prejudice in disfavour. In what a strong light, then, must that error +appear to her, that should so totally turn her heart against me, herself +not a principal in the case? + +There are other duties, you say, besides the filial duty: but that, my +dear, must be a duty prior to all other duties; a duty anterior, as I +may say, to your very birth: and what duty ought not to give way to that, +when they come in competition? + +You are persuaded, that the duty to your friend, and the filial duty, +may be performed without derogating from either. Your mother thinks +otherwise. What is the conclusion to be drawn from these premises? + +When your mother sees, how much I suffer in my reputation from the step +I have taken, from whom she and all the world expected better things, +how much reason has she to be watchful over you! One evil draws on +another after it; and how knows she, or any body, where it may stop? + +Does not the person who will vindicate, or seek to extenuate, a faulty +step in another [in this light must your mother look upon the matter in +question between her and you] give an indication either of a culpable +will, or a weak judgment; and may not she apprehend, that the censorious +will think, that such a one might probably have equally failed under the +same inducements and provocations, to use your own words, as applied to +me in a former letter? + +Can there be a stronger instance in human lie than mine has so early +furnished, within a few months past, (not to mention the uncommon +provocations to it, which I have met with,) of the necessity of the +continuance of a watchful parent's care over a daughter: let that +daughter have obtained ever so great a reputation for her prudence? + +Is not the space from sixteen to twenty-one that which requires this +care, more than at any time of a young woman's life? For in that period +do we not generally attract the eyes of the other sex, and become the +subject of their addresses, and not seldom of their attempts? And is not +that the period in which our conduct or misconduct gives us a reputation +or disreputation, that almost inseparably accompanies us throughout our +whole future lives? + +Are we not likewise then most in danger from ourselves, because of the +distinction with which we are apt to behold particulars of that sex. + +And when our dangers multiply, both from within and without, do not our +parents know, that their vigilance ought to be doubled? And shall that +necessary increase of care sit uneasy upon us, because we are grown up +to stature and womanhood? + +Will you tell me, if so, what is the precise stature and age at which a +good child shall conclude herself absolved from the duty she owes to +a parent?--And at which a parent, after the example of the dams of +the brute creation, is to lay aside all care and tenderness for her +offspring? + +Is it so hard for you, my dear, to be treated like a child? And can +you not think it is hard for a good parent to imagine herself under the +unhappy necessity of so treating her woman-grown daughter? + +Do you think, if your mother had been you, and you your mother, and your +daughter had struggled with you, as you did with her, that you would +not have been as apt as your mother was to have slapped your daughter's +hands, to have made her quit her hold, and give up the prohibited +letter? + +Your mother told you, with great truth, that you provoked her to this +harshness; and it was a great condescension in her (and not taken notice +of by you as it deserved) to say that she was sorry for it. + +At every age on this side matrimony (for then we come under another sort +of protection, though that is far from abrogating the filial duty) it +will be found, that the wings of our parents are our most necessary and +most effectual safeguard from the vultures, the hawks, the kites, and +other villainous birds of prey, that hover over us with a view to seize +and destroy us the first time we are caught wandering out of the eye or +care of our watchful and natural guardians and protectors. + +Hard as you may suppose it, to be denied to continuance of a +correspondence once so much approved, even by the venerable denier; +yet, if your mother think my fault to be of such a nature, as that a +correspondence with me will cast a shade upon your reputation, all my +own friends having given me up--that hardship is to be submitted to. And +must it not make her the more strenuous to support her own opinion, when +she sees the first fruits of this tenaciousness on your side is to +be gloriously in the sullens, as you call it, and in a disobedient +opposition? + +I know that you have a humourous meaning in that expression, and that +this turn, in most cases, gives a delightful poignancy both to your +conversation and correspondence; but indeed, my dear, this case will not +bear humour. + +Will you give me leave to add to this tedious expostulation, that I by +no means approve of some of the things you write, in relation to the +manner in which your father and mother lived--at times lived--only at +times, I dare say, though perhaps too often. + +Your mother is answerable to any body, rather than to her child, for +whatever was wrong in her conduct, if any thing was wrong, towards Mr. +Howe: a gentleman, of whose memory I will only say, that it ought to be +revered by you--But yet, should you not examine yourself, whether your +displeasure at your mother had no part in your revived reverence for +your father at the time you wrote? + +No one is perfect: and although your mother may not be right to remember +disagreeableness against the departed, yet should you not want to be +reminded on whose account, and on what occasion, she remembered them. +You cannot judge, nor ought you to attempt to judge, of what might +have passed between both, to embitter and keep awake disagreeable +remembrances in the survivor. + + + + +LETTER XLII + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE [IN CONTINUATION.] + + +But this subject must not be pursued. Another might, with more pleasure, +(though not with more approbation,) upon one of your lively excursions. +It is upon the high airs you give yourself upon the word approve. + +How comes it about, I wonder, that a young lady so noted for +predominating generosity, should not be uniformly generous? That your +generosity should fail in an instance where policy, prudence, gratitude, +would not permit it to fail? Mr. Hickman (as you confess) had indeed a +worthy mind. If I had not long ago known that, he would never have found +an advocate in me for my Anna Howe's favour to him. Often and often +have I been concerned, when I was your happy guest, to see him, after a +conversation, in which he had well supported his part in your absence, +sink at once into silence the moment you came into company. + +I have told you of this before: and I believe I hinted to you once, +that the superciliousness you put on only to him, was capable of a +construction, which at the time would have very little gratified your +pride to have had made; since it would have been as much in his favour, +as in your disfavour. + +Mr. Hickman, my dear, is a modest man. I never see a modest man, but I +am sure (if he has not wanted opportunities) that he has a treasure in +his mind, which requires nothing but the key of encouragement to unlock +it, to make him shine--while a confident man, who, to be confident, +must think as meanly of his company as highly of himself, enters with +magisterial airs upon any subject; and, depending upon his assurance to +bring himself off when found out, talks of more than he is master of. + +But a modest man!--O my dear, shall not a modest woman distinguish and +wish to consort with a modest man?--A man, before whom, and to whom she +may open her lips secure of his good opinion of all she says, and of his +just and polite regard for her judgment? and who must therefore inspire +her with an agreeable self-confidence. + +What a lot have I drawn!--We are all indeed apt to turn teachers--but, +surely, I am better enabled to talk, to write, upon these subjects, +than ever I was. But I will banish myself, if possible, from an address +which, when I began to write, I was determined to confine wholly to your +own particular. + +My dearest, dearest friend, how ready are you to tell us what others +should do, and even what a mother should have done! But indeed you once, +I remember, advanced, that, as different attainments required different +talents to master them, so, in the writing way, a person might not be a +bad critic upon the works of others, although he might himself be unable +to write with excellence. But will you permit me to account for all this +readiness of finding fault, by placing it to human nature, which, being +sensible of the defects of human nature, (that is to say, of its own +defects,) loves to be correcting? But in exercising that talent, chooses +rather to turn its eye outward than inward? In other words, to employ +itself rather in the out-door search, than in the in-door examination. + +And here give me leave to add, (and yet it is with tender reluctance,) +that although you say very pretty things of notable wives; and +although I join with you in opinion, that husbands may have as many +inconveniencies to encounter with, as conveniencies to boast of, from +women, of that character; yet Lady Hartley perhaps would have had milder +treatment from your pen, had it not been dipped in gall with a mother in +your eye. + +As to the money, you so generously and repeatedly offer, don't be angry +with me, if I again say, that I am very desirous that you should be able +to aver, without the least qualifying or reserve, that nothing of that +sort has passed between us. I know your mother's strong way of putting +the question she is intent upon having answered. But yet I promise that +I will be obliged to nobody but you, when I have occasion. + + + + +LETTER XLIII + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE [IN CONTINUATION.] + + +And now, my dear, a few words, as to the prohibition laid upon you; a +subject that I have frequently touched upon, but cursorily, because I +was afraid to trust myself with it, knowing that my judgment, if I did, +would condemn my practice. + +You command me not to attempt to dissuade you from this correspondence; +and you tell me how kindly Mr. Hickman approves of it; and how obliging +he is to me, to permit it to be carried on under cover to him--but this +does not quite satisfy me. + +I am a very bad casuist; and the pleasure I take in writing to you, who +are the only one to whom I can disburden my mind, may make me, as I have +hinted, very partial to my own wishes: else, if it were not an artful +evasion beneath an open and frank heart to wish to be complied with, I +would be glad methinks to be permitted still to write to you; and only +to have such occasional returns by Mr. Hickman's pen, as well as cover, +as might set me right when I am wrong; confirm me, when right, and guide +me where I doubt. This would enable me to proceed in the difficult path +before me with more assuredness. For whatever I suffer from the +censure of others, if I can preserve your good opinion, I shall not be +altogether unhappy, let what will befall me. + +And indeed, my dear, I know not how to forbear writing. I have now no +other employment or diversion. And I must write on, although I were not +to send it to any body. You have often heard me own the advantages I +have found from writing down every thing of moment that befalls me; and +of all I think, and of all I do, that may be of future use to me; for, +besides that this helps to form one to a style, and opens and expands +the ductile mind, every one will find that many a good thought +evaporates in thinking; many a good resolution goes off, driven out of +memory perhaps by some other not so good. But when I set down what I +will do, or what I have done, on this or that occasion; the resolution +or action is before me either to be adhered to, withdrawn, or amended; +and I have entered into compact with myself, as I may say; having given +it under my own hand to improve, rather than to go backward, as I live +longer. + +I would willingly, therefore, write to you, if I might; the rather as it +would be the more inspiriting to have some end in view in what I write; +some friend to please; besides merely seeking to gratify my passion for +scribbling. + +But why, if your mother will permit our correspondence on communicating +to her all that passes in it, and if she would condescend to one only +condition, may it not be complied with? + +Would she not, do you think, my dear, be prevailed upon to have the +communication made to her, in confidence? + +If there were any prospect of a reconciliation with my friends, I should +not have so much regard for my pride, as to be afraid of any body's +knowing how much I have been outwitted as you call it. I would in that +case (when I had left Mr. Lovelace) acquaint your mother, and all my own +friends, with the whole of my story. It would behove me so to do, for my +own reputation, and for their satisfaction. + +But, if I have no such prospect, what will the communication of my +reluctance to go away with Mr. Lovelace, and of his arts to frighten +me away, avail me? Your mother has hinted, that my friends would insist +upon my returning home to them (as a proof of the truth of my plea) +to be disposed of, without condition, at their pleasure. If I scrupled +this, my brother would rather triumph over me, than keep my secret. Mr. +Lovelace, whose pride already so ill brooks my regrets for meeting him, +(when he thinks, if I had not, I must have been Mr. Solmes's wife,) +would perhaps treat me with indignity: and thus, deprived of all refuge +and protection, I should become the scoff of men of intrigue; a disgrace +to my sex--while that avowed love, however indiscreetly shown, which is +followed by marriage, will find more excuses made for it, than generally +it ought to find. + +But, if your mother will receive the communication in confidence, pray +shew her all that I have written, or shall write. If my past conduct +in that case shall not be found to deserve heavy blame, I shall then +perhaps have the benefit of her advice, as well as yours. And if, after +a re-establishment in her favour, I shall wilfully deserve blame for the +time to come, I will be content to be denied yours as well as hers for +ever. + +As to cramping my spirit, as you call it, (were I to sit down to write +what I know your mother must see,) that, my dear, is already cramped. +And do not think so unhandsomely of your mother, as to fear that she +would make partial constructions against me. Neither you nor I can +doubt, but that, had she been left unprepossessedly to herself, she +would have shown favour to me. And so, I dare say, would my uncle +Antony. Nay, my dear, I can extend my charity still farther: for I am +sometimes of opinion, that were my brother and sister absolutely certain +that they had so far ruined me in the opinion of both my uncles, as that +they need not be apprehensive of my clashing with their interests, +they would not oppose a pardon, although they might not wish a +reconciliation; especially if I would make a few sacrifices to them: +which, I assure you, I should be inclined to make were I wholly free, +and independent on this man. You know I never valued myself upon worldly +acquisitions, but as they enlarged my power to do things I loved to +do. And if I were denied the power, I must, as I now do, curb my +inclination. + +Do not however think me guilty of an affectation in what I have said +of my brother and sister. Severe enough I am sure it is, in the most +favourable sense. And an indifferent person will be of opinion, that +they are much better warranted than ever, for the sake of the family +honour, to seek to ruin me in the favour of all my friends. + +But to the former topic--try, my dear, if your mother will, upon the +condition above given, permit our correspondence, on seeing all we +write. But if she will not, what a selfishness would there be in my love +to you, were I to wish you to forego your duty for my sake? + +And now, one word, as to the freedom I have treated you with in this +tedious expostulatory address. I presume upon your forgiveness of it, +because few friendships are founded on such a basis as ours: which +is, 'freely to give reproof, and thankfully to receive it as occasions +arise; that so either may have opportunity to clear up mistakes, to +acknowledge and amend errors, as well in behaviour as in words and +deeds; and to rectify and confirm each other in the judgment each shall +form upon persons, things, and circumstances.' And all this upon the +following consideration; 'that it is much more eligible, as well as +honourable, to be corrected with the gentleness that may be expected +from an undoubted friend, than, by continuing either blind or wilful, +to expose ourselves to the censures of an envious and perhaps malignant +world.' + +But it is as needless, I dare say, to remind you of this, as it is to +repeat my request, so often repeated, that you will not, in your turn, +spare the follies and the faults of + +Your ever affectionate CL. HARLOWE. + + +SUBJOINED TO THE ABOVE. + +I said, that I would avoid writing any thing of my own particular +affairs in the above address, if I could. + +I will write one letter more, to inform you how I stand with this man. +But, my dear, you must permit that one, and your answer to it (for I +want your advice upon the contents of mine) and the copy of one I have +written to my aunt, to be the last that shall pass between us, while the +prohibition continues. + +I fear, I very much fear, that my unhappy situation will draw me in to +being guilty of evasion, of little affectations, and of curvings from +the plain simple truth which I was wont to delight in, and prefer to +every other consideration. But allow me to say, and this for your sake, +and in order to lessen your mother's fears of any ill consequences that +she might apprehend from our correspondence, that if I am at any time +guilty of a failure in these respects, I will not go on in it, but +endeavour to recover my lost ground, that I may not bring error into +habit. + +I have deferred going to town, at Mrs. Sorlings's earnest request. But +have fixed my removal to Monday, as I shall acquaint you in my next. + +I have already made a progress in that next; but, having an unexpected +opportunity, will send this by itself. + + + + +LETTER XLIV + +MISS HOWE, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE FRIDAY MORNING, APRIL 21. + + +My mother will not comply with your condition, my dear. I hinted it to +her, as from myself. But the Harlowes (excuse me) have got her entirely +in with them. It is a scheme of mine, she told me, formed to draw her +into your party against your parents. Which, for your own sake, she is +very careful about. + +Don't be so much concerned about my mother and me, once more, I beg of +you. We shall do well enough together--now a falling out, now a falling +in. + +It used to be so, when you were not in the question. + +Yet do I give you my sincere thanks for every line of your reprehensive +letters; which I intend to read as often as I find my temper rises. + +I will freely own, however, that I winced a little at first reading +them. But I see that, on every re-perusal, I shall love and honour you +still more, if possible, than before. + +Yet, I think I have one advantage over you; and which I will hold +through this letter, and through all my future letters; that is, that +I will treat you as freely as you treat me; and yet will never think an +apology necessary to you for my freedom. + +But that you so think with respect to me is the effect of your +gentleness of temper, with a little sketch of implied reflection on the +warmth of mine. Gentleness in a woman you hold to be no fault: nor do I +a little due or provoked warmth--But what is this, but praising on both +sides what what neither of us can help, nor perhaps wish to help? You +can no more go out of your road, than I can go out of mine. It would be +a pain to either to do so: What then is it in either's approving of her +own natural bias, but making a virtue of necessity? + +But one observation I will add, that were your character, and my +character, to be truly drawn, mine would be allowed to be the most +natural. Shades and lights are equally necessary in a fine picture. +Yours would be surrounded with such a flood of brightness, with such a +glory, that it would indeed dazzle; but leave one heartless to imitate +it. + +O may you not suffer from a base world for your gentleness; while my +temper, by its warmth, keeping all imposition at a distance, though +less amiable in general, affords me not reason, as I have mentioned +heretofore, to wish to make an exchange with you! + +I should indeed be inexcusable to open my lips by way of contradiction +to my mother, had I such a fine spirit as yours to deal with. Truth is +truth, my dear! Why should narrowness run away with the praises due to a +noble expansion of heart? If every body would speak out, as I do, (that +is to say, give praise where only praise is due; dispraise where due +likewise,) shame, if not principle, would mend the world--nay, shame +would introduce principle in a generation or two. Very true, my dear. Do +you apply. I dare not.--For I fear you, almost as much as I love you. + +I will give you an instance, nevertheless, which will a-new demonstrate, +that none but very generous and noble-minded people ought to be +implicitly obeyed. You know what I said above, that truth is truth. + +Inconveniencies will sometimes arise from having to do with persons of +modest and scrupulousness. Mr. Hickman, you say, is a modest man. He +put your corrective packet into my hand with a very fine bow, and a +self-satisfied air [we'll consider what you say of this honest man +by-and-by, my dear]: his strut was no gone off, when in came my mother, +as I was reading it. + +When some folks find their anger has made them considerable, they will +be always angry, or seeking occasions for anger. + +Why, now, Mr. Hickman--why, now, Nancy, [as I was huddling in the +packet between my gown and my stays, at her entrance.] You have a +letter brought you this instant.--While the modest man, with his pausing +brayings, Mad-da--Mad-dam, looked as if he knew not whether to fight it +out, or to stand his ground, and see fair play. + +It would have been poor to tell a lie for it. She flung away. I went +out at the opposite door, to read the contents; leaving Mr. Hickman to +exercise his white teeth upon his thumb-nails. + +When I had read your letters, I went to find out my mother. I told her +the generous contents, and that you desired that the prohibition +might be adhered to. I proposed your condition, as for myself; and was +rejected, as above. + +She supposed, she was finely painted between two 'young creatures, who +had more wit than prudence:' and instead of being prevailed upon by the +generosity of your sentiments, made use of your opinion only to confirm +her own, and renewed her prohibitions, charging me to return no other +answer, but that she did renew them: adding, that they should stand, +till your relations were reconciled to you; hinting as if she had +engaged for as much: and expected my compliance. + +I thought of your reprehensions, and was meek, though not pleased. And +let me tell you, my dear, that as long as I can satisfy my own mind, +that good is intended, and that it is hardly possible that evil should +ensue from our correspondence--as long as I know that this prohibition +proceeds originally from the same spiteful minds which have been the +occasion of all these mischiefs--as long as I know that it is not +your fault if your relations are not reconciled to you, and that upon +conditions which no reasonable people would refuse--you must give +me leave, with all deference to your judgment, and to your excellent +lessons, (which would reach almost every case of this kind but the +present,) to insist upon your writing to me, and that minutely, as if +this prohibition had not been laid. + +It is not from humour, from perverseness, that I insist upon this. I +cannot express how much my heart is in your concerns. And you must, in +short, allow me to think, that if I can do you service by writing, I +shall be better justified in continuing to write, than my mother is in +her prohibition. + +But yet, to satisfy you all I can, I will as seldom return answers, +while the interdict lasts, as may be consistent with my notions of +friendship, and with the service I owe you, and can do you. + +As to your expedient of writing by Hickman [and now, my dear, your +modest man comes in: and as you love modesty in that sex, I will do +my endeavour, by holding him at a proper distance, to keep him in your +favour] I know what you mean by it, my sweet friend. It is to make that +man significant with me. As to the correspondence, THAT shall go on, +I do assure you, be as scrupulous as you please--so that that will not +suffer if I do not close with your proposal as to him. + +I must tell you, that I think it will be honour enough for him to have +his name made use of so frequently betwixt us. This, of itself, is +placing a confidence in him, that will make him walk bolt upright, and +display his white hand, and his fine diamond ring; and most mightily lay +down his services, and his pride to oblige, and his diligence, and his +fidelity, and his contrivances to keep our secret, and his excuses, +and his evasions to my mother, when challenged by her; with fifty ana's +beside: and will it not moreover give him pretence and excuse oftener +than ever to pad-nag it hither to good Mrs. Howe's fair daughter? + +But to admit him into my company tete-a-tete, and into my closet, as +often as I would wish to write to you, I only dictate to his pen--my +mother all the time supposing that I was going to be heartily in love +with him--to make him master of my sentiments, and of my heart, as I may +say, when I write to you--indeed, my dear, I won't. Nor, were I married +to the best HE in England, would I honour him with the communication of +my correspondences. + +No, my dear, it is sufficient, surely, for him to parade in the +character of our letter-conveyor, and to be honoured in a cover, and +never fear but, modest as you think him, he will make enough of that. + +You are always blaming me for want of generosity to this man, and for +abuse of power. But I profess, my dear, I cannot tell how to help it. +Do, dear, now, let me spread my plumes a little, and now-and-then make +myself feared. This is my time, you know, since it would be no more to +my credit than to his, to give myself those airs when I am married. He +has a joy when I am pleased with him that he would not know, but for the +pain my displeasure gives him. + +Men, no more than women, know how to make a moderate use of power. Is +not that seen every day, from the prince to the peasant? If I do not +make Hickman quake now-and-then, he will endeavour to make me fear. All +the animals in the creation are more or less in a state of hostility +with each other. The wolf, that runs away from a lion, will devour a +lamb the next moment. I remember, that I was once so enraged at a game +chicken that was continually pecking at another (a poor humble one, as I +thought him) that I had the offender caught, and without more ado, in a +pet of humanity, wrung his neck off. What followed this execution? Why +that other grew insolent, as soon as his insulter was gone, and was +continually pecking at one or two under him. Peck and be hanged, said +I,--I might as well have preserved the first, for I see it is the nature +of the beast. + +Excuse my flippancies. I wish I were with you. I would make you smile in +the midst of your gravest airs, as I used to do. O that you had +accepted of my offer to attend you! but nothing that I offer will you +accept----Take care!--You will make me very angry with you: and when I +am, you know I value nobody: for, dearly as I love you, I must be, and +cannot always help it, + +Your saucy ANNA HOWE. + + + + +LETTER XLV + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE FRIDAY, APRIL 22. + + +Mr. Lovelace communicated to me this morning early, from his +intelligencer, the news of my brother's scheme. I like him the better +for making very light of it, and for his treating it with contempt. And +indeed, had I not had the hint of it from you, I should have suspected +it to be some contrivance of his, in order to hasten me to town, where +he has long wished to be himself. + +He read me the passage in that Leman's letter, which is pretty much to +the effect of what you wrote to me from Miss Lloyd; with this addition, +that one Singleton, a master of a Scots vessel, is the man who is to be +the principal in this act of violence. + +I have seen him. He had been twice entertained at Harlowe-place, as my +brother's friend. He has the air of a very bold and fearless man, and I +fancy it must be his project; as my brother, I suppose, talks to every +body of the rash step I have taken, for he did not spare me before he +had this seeming reason to censure me. + +This Singleton lives at Leith; so, perhaps, I am to be carried to my +brother's house not far from that port. + +Putting these passages together, I am not a little apprehensive that the +design, lightly as Mr. Lovelace, from his fearless temper, treats it, +may be attempted to be carried into execution; and of the consequences +that may attend it, if it be. + +I asked Mr. Lovelace, seeing him so frank and cool, what he would advise +me to do. + +Shall I ask you, Madam, what are your own thoughts?--Why I return the +question, said he, is, because you have been so very earnest that I +should leave you as soon as you are in London, that I know not what to +propose without offending you. + +My opinion is, said I, that I should studiously conceal myself from the +knowledge of every body but Miss Howe; and that you should leave me +out of hand; since they will certainly conclude, that where one is, the +other is not far off: and it is easier to trace you than me. + +You would not surely wish, said he, to fall into your brother's hands +by such a violent measure as this? I propose not to throw myself +officiously in their way; but should they have reason to think I avoided +them, would not that whet their diligence to find you, and their courage +to attempt to carry you off, and subject me to insults that no man of +spirit can bear? + +Lord bless me! said I, to what had this one fatal step that I have been +betrayed into---- + +Dearest Madam, let me beseech you to forbear this harsh language, when +you see, by this new scheme, how determined they were upon carrying +their old ones, had you not been betrayed, as you call it. Have I +offered to defy the laws of society, as this brother of yours must do, +if any thing be intended by this project? I hope you will be pleased to +observe that there are as violent and as wicked enterprisers as myself. +But this is so very wild a project, that I think there can be no room +for apprehensions from it. I know your brother well. When at college, +he had always a romantic turn: but never had a head for any thing but to +puzzle and confound himself. A half-invention, and a whole conceit; but +not master of talents to do himself good, or others harm, but as those +others gave him the power by their own folly. + +This is very volubly run off, Sir!--But violent spirits are but too much +alike; at least in their methods of resenting. You will not presume to +make yourself a less innocent man, surely, who had determined to brave +my whole family in person, if my folly had not saved you the rashness, +and them the insult-- + +Dear Madam!--Still must it be folly, rashness!--It is as impossible for +you to think tolerably of any body out of your own family, as it is +for any one in your family to deserve your love! Forgive me, dearest +creature! If I did not love you as never man loved a woman, I might +appear more indifferent to preferences so undeservedly made. But let me +ask you, Madam, What have you borne from me? What cause have I given +you to treat me with so much severity and so little confidence? And what +have you not borne from them? Malice and ill-will, sitting in judgment +upon my character, may not give sentence in my favour: But what of your +own knowledge have you against me? + +Spirited questions, were they not, my dear?--And they were asked with +as spirited an air. I was startled. But I was resolved not to desert +myself. + +Is this a time, Mr. Lovelace, is this a proper occasion taken, to +give yourself these high airs to me, a young creature destitute of +protection? It is a surprising question you ask me--Had I aught against +you of my own knowledge--I can tell you, Sir--And away I would have +flung. + +He snatched my hand, and besought me not to leave him in displeasure. He +pleaded his passion for me, and my severity to him, and partiality for +those from whom I had suffered so much; and whose intended violence, he +said, was now the subject of our deliberation. + +I was forced to hear him. + +You condescended, dearest creature, said he, to ask my advice. It was +very easy, give me leave to say, to advise you what to do. I hope I may, +on this new occasion, speak without offence, notwithstanding your former +injunctions--You see that there can be no hope of reconciliation with +your relations. Can you, Madam, consent to honour with your hand a +wretch whom you have never yet obliged with one voluntary favour! + +What a recriminating, what a reproachful way, my dear, was this, of +putting a question of this nature! + +I expected not from him, at the time, and just as I was very angry with +him, either the question or the manner. I am ashamed to recollect the +confusion I was thrown into; all your advice in my head at the moment: +yet his words so prohibitory. He confidently seemed to enjoy my +confusion [indeed, my dear, he knows not what respectful love is!] and +gazed upon me, as if he would have looked me through. + +He was still more declarative afterwards, as I shall mention by-and-by: +but it was half extorted from him. + +My heart struggled violently between resentment and shame, to be thus +teased by one who seemed to have all his passions at command, at a time +when I had very little over mine! till at last I burst into tears, and +was going from him in high disgust: when, throwing his arms about me, +with an air, however, the most tenderly respectful, he gave a stupid +turn to the subject. + +It was far from his heart, he said, to take so much advantage of the +streight, which the discovery of my brother's foolish project had +brought me into, as to renew, without my permission, a proposal which I +had hitherto discountenanced, and which for that reason-- + +And then he came with his half-sentences, apologizing for what he had +not so much as half-proposed. + +Surely he had not the insolence to intend to tease me, to see if I could +be brought to speak what became me not to speak. But whether he had or +not, it did tease me; insomuch that my very heart was fretted, and I +broke out, at last, into fresh tears, and a declaration that I was very +unhappy. And just then recollecting how like a tame fool I stood with +his arms about me, I flung from him with indignation. But he seized my +hand, as I was going out of the room, and upon his knees besought my +stay for one moment: and then, in words the most clear and explicit, +tendered himself to my acceptance, as the most effectual means to +disappoint my brother's scheme, and set all right. + +But what could I say to this?--Extorted from him, as it seemed to me, +rather as the effect of his compassion than his love? What could I say? +I paused, I looked silly--I am sure I looked very silly. He suffered me +to pause, and look silly; waiting for me to say something: and at last +(ashamed of my confusion, and aiming to make an excuse for it) I told +him that I desired he would avoid such measures as might add to the +uneasiness which it must be visible to him I had, when he reflected upon +the irreconcilableness of my friends, and upon what might follow from +this unaccountable project of my brother. + +He promised to be governed by me in every thing. And again the wretch, +instead of pressing his former question, asked me, If I forgave him for +the humble suit he had made to me? What had I to do but to try for a +palliation of my confusion, since it served me not? + +I told him I had hopes it would not be long before Mr. Morden arrived; +and doubted not that that gentleman would be the readier to engage in my +favour, when he found that I made no other use of his (Mr. Lovelace's) +assistance, than to free myself from the addresses of a man so +disagreeable to me as Mr. Solmes: I must therefore wish that every thing +might remain as it was till I could hear from my cousin. + +This, although teased by him as I was, was not, you see, my dear, +a denial. But he must throw himself into a heat, rather than try to +persuade; which any other man in his situation, I should think, would +have done; and this warmth obliged me to adhere to my seeming negative. + +This was what he said, with a vehemence that must harden any woman's +mind, who had a spirit above being frighted into passiveness-- + +Good God! and will you, Madam, still resolve to show me that I am +to hope for no share in your favour, while any the remotest prospect +remains that you will be received by my bitterest enemies, at the price +of my utter rejection? + +This was what I returned, with warmth, and with a salving art too--You +should have seen, Mr. Lovelace, how much my brother's violence can +affect me: but you will be mistaken if you let loose yours upon me, with +a thought of terrifying me into measures the contrary of which you have +acquiesced with. + +He only besought me to suffer his future actions to speak for him; and +if I saw him worthy of any favour, that I would not let him be the only +person within my knowledge who was not entitled to my consideration. + +You refer to a future time, Mr. Lovelace, so do I, for the future proof +of a merit you seem to think for the past time wanting: and justly you +think so. And I was again going from him. + +One word more he begged me to hear--He was determined studiously to +avoid all mischief, and every step that might lead to mischief, let my +brother's proceedings, short of a violence upon my person, be what they +would: but if any attempt that should extend to that were to be made, +would I have had him to be a quiet spectator of my being seized, or +carried back, or on board, by this Singleton; or, in case of extremity, +was he not permitted to stand up in my defence? + +Stand up in my defence, Mr. Lovelace!--I should be very miserable were +there to be a call for that. But do you think I might not be safe and +private in London? By your friend's description of the widow's house, I +should think I might be safe there. + +The widow's house, he replied, as described by his friend, being a back +house within a front one, and looking to a garden, rather than to a +street, had the appearance of privacy: but if, when there, it was not +approved, it would be easy to find another more to my liking--though, as +to his part, the method he would advise should be, to write to my uncle +Harlowe, as one of my trustees, and wait the issue of it here at Mrs. +Sorlings's, fearlessly directing it to be answered hither. To be afraid +of little spirits was but to encourage insults, he said. The substance +of the letter should be, 'To demand as a right, what they would refuse +if requested as a courtesy: to acknowledge that I had put myself [too +well, he said, did their treatment justify me] into the protection of +the ladies of his family [by whose orders, and Lord M.'s, he himself +would appear to act]: but that upon my own terms, which were such, that +I was under no obligation to those ladies for the favour; it being +no more than they would have granted to any one of my sex, equally +distressed.' If I approved not of his method, happy should he think +himself, he said, if I would honour him with the opportunity of making +such a claim in his own name--but this was a point [with his but's +again in the same breath!] that he durst but just touch upon. He hoped, +however, that I would think their violence a sufficient inducement for +me to take such a wished-for resolution. + +Inwardly vexed, I told him that he himself had proposed to leave me when +I was in town; that I expected he would: and that, when I was known to +be absolutely independent, I should consider what to write, and what to +do: but that while he was with me, I neither would nor could. + +He would be very sincere with me, he said: this project of my brother's +had changed the face of things. He must, before he left me, see whether +I should or should not approve of the London widow and her family, if I +chose to go thither. They might be people whom my brother might buy. But +if he saw they were persons of integrity, he then might go for a day +or two, or so. But he must needs say, he could not leave me longer at a +time. + +Do you propose, Sir, said I, to take up your lodgings in the house where +I shall lodge? + +He did not, he said, as he knew the use I intended to make of his +absence, and my punctilio--and yet the house where he had lodgings was +new-fronting, and not in condition to receive him: but he could go to +his friend Belford's, in Soho; or perhaps he might reach to the same +gentleman's house at Edgware, over night, and return on the mornings, +till he had reason to think this wild project of my brother's laid +aside. But to no greater distance till then should he care to venture. + +The result of all was, to set out on Monday next for town. I hope it +will be in a happy hour. + +CL. HARLOWE. + + + + +LETTER XLVI + +MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. FRIDAY, APRIL 21. + + +[As it was not probable that the Lady could give so particular an +account of her own confusion, in the affecting scene she mentions on Mr. +Lovelace's offering himself to her acceptance, the following extracts +are made from his letter of the above date.] + +And now, Belford, what wilt thou say, if, like the fly buzzing about the +bright taper, I had like to have singed the silken wings of my liberty? +Never was man in greater danger of being caught in his own snares: all +my views anticipated; all my schemes untried; the admirable creature no +brought to town; nor one effort made to know if she be really angel or +woman. + +I offered myself to her acceptance, with a suddenness, 'tis true, that +gave her no time to wrap herself in reserves; and in terms less tender +than fervent, tending to upbraid her for her past indifference, and to +remind her of her injunctions: for it was the fear of her brother, +not her love of me, that had inclined her to dispense with those +injunctions. + +I never beheld so sweet a confusion. What a glory to the pencil, +could it do justice to it, and to the mingled impatience which visibly +informed every feature of the most meaning and most beautiful face +in the world! She hemmed twice or thrice: her look, now so charmingly +silly, then so sweetly significant; till at last the lovely teaser, +teased by my hesitating expectation of her answer, out of all power +of articulate speech, burst into tears, and was turning from me with +precipitation, when, presuming to fold her in my happy arms--O think +not, best beloved of my heart, said I, think not, that this motion, +which you may believe to be so contrary to your former injunctions, +proceeds from a design to avail myself of the cruelty of your relations: +if I have disobliged you by it, (and you know with what respectful +tenderness I have presumed to hint it,) it shall be my utmost care for +the future--There I stopped---- + +Then she spoke, but with vexation--I am--I am--very unhappy--Tears +trickling down her crimson cheeks, and her sweet face, as my arms still +encircled the finest waist in the world, sinking upon my shoulder; the +dear creature so absent, that she knew not the honour she permitted me. + +But why, but why unhappy, my dearest life? said I:--all the gratitude +that ever overflowed the heart of the most obliged of men-- + +Justice to myself there stopped my mouth: for what gratitude did I owe +her for obligations so involuntary? + +Then recovering herself, and her usual reserves, and struggling to free +herself from my clasping arms, How now, Sir! said she, with a cheek more +indignantly glowing, and eyes of fiercer lustre. + +I gave way to her angry struggle; but, absolutely overcome by so +charming a display of innocent confusion, I caught hold of her hand as +she was flying from me, and kneeling at her fee, O my angel, said I, +(quite destitute of reserve, and hardly knowing the tenor of my own +speech; and had a parson been there, I had certainly been a gone man,) +receive the vows of your faithful Lovelace. Make him yours, and only +yours, for ever. This will answer every end. Who will dare to form plots +and stratagems against my wife? That you are not so is the ground of +all their foolish attempts, and of their insolent hopes in Solmes's +favour.--O be mine!--I beseech you (thus on my knee I beseech you) to +be mine. We shall then have all the world with us. And every body will +applaud an event that every body expects. + +Was the devil in me! I no more intended all this ecstatic nonsense, than +I thought the same moment of flying in the air! All power is with this +charming creature. It is I, not she, at this rate, that must fail in the +arduous trial. + +Didst thou ever before hear of a man uttering solemn things by an +involuntary impulse, in defiance of premeditation, and of all his proud +schemes? But this sweet creature is able to make a man forego every +purpose of his heart that is not favourable to her. And I verily think +I should be inclined to spare her all further trial (and yet what trial +has she had?) were it not for the contention that her vigilance has set +on foot, which shall overcome the other. Thou knowest my generosity +to my uncontending Rosebud--and sometimes do I qualify my +ardent aspirations after even this very fine creature, by this +reflection:--That the most charming woman on earth, were she an empress, +can excel the meanest in the customary visibles only. Such is the +equality of the dispensation, to the prince and the peasant, in this +prime gift WOMAN. + +Well, but what was the result of this involuntary impulse on my +part?--Wouldst thou not think; I was taken at my offer?--An offer so +solemnly made, and on one knee too? + +No such thing! The pretty trifler let me off as easily as I could have +wished. + +Her brother's project; and to find that there were no hopes of a +reconciliation for her; and the apprehension she had of the mischiefs +that might ensue; these, not my offer, nor love of me, were the causes +to which she ascribed all her sweet confusion--an ascription that is +high treason against my sovereign pride,--to make marriage with me but +a second-place refuge; and as good as to tell me that her confusion +was owing to her concern that there were no hopes that my enemies would +accept of her intended offer to renounce a man who had ventured his life +for her, and was still ready to run the same risque in her behalf! + +I re-urged her to make me happy, but I was to be postponed to her cousin +Morden's arrival. On him are now placed all her hopes. + +I raved; but to no purpose. + +Another letter was to be sent, or had been sent, to her aunt Hervey, to +which she hoped an answer. + +Yet sometimes I think that fainter and fainter would have been her +procrastinations, had I been a man of courage--but so fearful was I of +offending! + +A confounded thing! The man to be so bashful; the woman to want so much +courting!--How shall two such come together--no kind mediatress in the +way? + +But I must be contented. 'Tis seldom, however, that a love so ardent as +mine, meets with a spirit so resigned in the same person. But true love, +I am now convinced, only wishes: nor has it any active will but that of +the adored object. + +But, O the charming creature, again of herself to mention London! Had +Singleton's plot been of my own contriving, a more happy expedient could +not have been thought of to induce her to resume her purpose of going +thither; nor can I divine what could be her reason for postponing it. + +I enclose the letter from Joseph Leman, which I mentioned to thee in +mine of Monday last,* with my answer to it. I cannot resist the vanity +that urges me to the communication. Otherwise, it were better, perhaps, +that I suffer thee to imagine that this lady's stars fight against +her, and dispense the opportunities in my favour, which are only the +consequences of my own invention. + + + + +LETTER XLVII + +TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ. HIS HONNER SAT. APRIL 15. + + +MAY IT PLEASE YOUR HONNER, + +This is to let you Honner kno', as how I have been emploied in a bisness +I would have been excused from, if so be I could, for it is to gitt +evidense from a young man, who has of late com'd out to be my cuzzen +by my grandmother's side; and but lately come to live in these partes, +about a very vile thing, as younge master calls it, relating to your +Honner. God forbid I should call it so without your leafe. It is not for +so plane a man as I be, to tacks my betters. It is consarning one Miss +Batirton, of Notingam; a very pretty crature, belike. + +Your Honner got her away, it seems, by a false letter to her, macking +believe as how her she-cuzzen, that she derely loved, was coming to see +her; and was tacken ill upon the rode: and so Miss Batirton set out in +a shase, and one sarvant, to fet her cuzzen from the inne where she laid +sick, as she thote: and the sarvant was tricked, and braute back the +shase; but Miss Batirton was not harde of for a month, or so. And +when it came to passe, that her frends founde her out and would have +prossekutid your Honner, your Honner was gone abroad: and so she was +broute to bed, as one may say, before your Honner's return: and she got +colde in her lyin-inn, and lanquitched, and soon died: and the child is +living; but your Honner never troubles your Honner's hedd about it +in the least. And this, and some other matters, of verry bad reporte, +'Squier Solmes was to tell my young lady of, if so be she would have +harde him speke, before we lost her sweet company, as I may say, from +heere.* + + + * See Vol.II. Letters XV. and XVI. + + +Your Honner helped me to many ugly stories to tell against you Honner to +my younge master, and younge mistriss; but did not tell me about this. + +I most humbelly beseche your Honner to be good and kinde and fethful to +my deerest younge lady, now you have her; or I shall brake my harte for +having done some dedes that have helped to bringe things to this passe. +Pray youre dere, good Honner, be just! Prayey do!--As God shall love ye! +prayey do!--I cannot write no more for this pressent, for verry fear and +grief-- + +But now I am cumm'd to my writing agen, will your Honner be pleased to +tell me, if as how there be any danger to your Honner's life from this +bisness; for my cuzzen is actile hier'd to go down to Miss Batirton's +frendes to see if they will stir in it: for you must kno' your Honner, +as how he lived in the Batirton family at the time, and could be a good +evidense, and all that. + +I hope it was not so verry bad as Titus says it was; for he ses as +how there was a rape in the case betwixt you at furste, and plese your +Honner; and my cuzzen Titus is a very honist younge man as ever brocke +bred. This is his carackter; and this made me willinger to owne him for +my relation, when we came to talck. + +If there should be danger of your Honner's life, I hope your Honner will +not be hanged like as one of us common men; only have your hedd cut off, +or so: and yet it is pit such a hedd should be lossed: but if as how +it should be prossekutid to that furr, which God forbid, be plesed +natheless to thinck of youre fethful Joseph Leman, before your hedd be +condemned; for after condemnation, as I have been told, all will be the +king's or the shreeve's. + +I thote as how it was best to acquent you Honner of this; and for you +to let me kno' if I could do any think to sarve your Honner, and prevent +mischief with my cuzzen Titus, on his coming back from Nottingam, before +he mackes his reporte. + +I have gin him a hint already: for what, as I sed to him, cuzzen Titus, +signifies stirring up the coles and macking of strife, to make rich +gentilfolkes live at varience, and to be cutting of throtes, and +such-like? + +Very trewe, sed little Titus. And this, and plese your Honner, gis +me hopes of him, if so be your Honner gis me direction; sen', as God +kno'es, I have a poor, a verry poor invenshon; only a willing mind to +prevent mischief, that is the chief of my aim, and always was, I bless +my God!--Els I could have made much mischief in my time; as indeed +any sarvant may. Your Honner nathaless praises my invenshon every +now-and-then: Alas! and plese your Honner, what invenshon should such a +plane man as I have?--But when your Honner sets me agoing by your fine +invenshon, I can do well enuff. And I am sure I have a hearty good will +to deserve your Honner's faver, if I mought. + +Two days, as I may say, off and on, have I been writing this long +letter. And yet I have not sed all I would say. For, be it knone unto +your Honner, as how I do not like that Captain Singleton, which I told +you of in my last two letters. He is always laying his hedd and my young +master's hedd together; and I suspect much if so be some mischief is not +going on between them: and still the more, as because my eldest younge +lady seemes to be joined to them sometimes. + +Last week my younge master sed before my fase, My harte's blood boils +over, Capten Singleton, for revenge upon this--and he called your Honner +by a name it is not for such a won as me to say what.--Capten Singleton +whispred my younge master, being I was by. So young master sed, You may +say any thing before Joseph; for, althoff he looks so seelie, he has as +good a harte, and as good a hedd, as any sarvante in the world need to +have. My conscience touched me just then. But why shoulde it? when all I +do is to prevent mischeff; and seeing your Honner has so much patience, +which younge master has not; so am not affeard of telling your Honner +any thing whatsomever. + +And furthermore, I have such a desire to desarve your Honner's bounty +to me, as mackes me let nothing pass I can tell you of, to prevent harm: +and too, besides, your Honner's goodness about the Blew Bore; which I +have so good an accounte of!--I am sure I shall be bounden to bless your +Honner the longest day I have to live. + +And then the Blew Bore is not all neither: sen', and please your Honner, +the pretty Sowe (God forgive me for gesting in so serus a matter) runs +in my hedd likewise. I believe I shall love her mayhap more than your +Honner would have me; for she begins to be kind and good-humered, and +listens, and plese your Honour, licke as if she was among beans, when I +talke about the Blew Bore, and all that. + +Prayey, your Honner, forgive the gesting of a poor plane man. We common +fokes have our joys, and plese your Honner, lick as our betters have; +and if we be sometimes snubbed, we can find our underlings to snub them +agen; and if not, we can get a wife mayhap, and snub her: so are masters +some how or other oursells. + +But how I try your Honner's patience!--Sarvants will shew their joyful +hartes, tho' off but in partinens, when encourag'd. + +Be plesed from the prems's to let me kno' if as how I can be put upon +any sarvice to sarve your Honner, and to sarve my deerest younge lady; +which God grant! for I begin to be affearde for her, hearing what peple +talck--to be sure your Honner will not do her no harme, as a man may +say. But I kno' your Honner must be good to so wonderous a younge lady. +How can you help it?--But here my conscience smites me, that, but for +some of my stories, which your Honner taute me, my old master, and my +old lady, and the two old 'squires, would not have been able to be half +so hardhearted as they be, for all my younge master and younge mistress +sayes. + +And here is the sad thing; they cannot come to clere up matters with my +deerest young lady, because, as your Honner has ordered it, they have +these stories as if bribed by me out of your Honner's sarvant; which +must not be known for fere you should kill'n and me too, and blacken the +briber!--Ah! your Honner! I doubte as tha I am a very vild fellow, (Lord +bless my soil, I pray God!) and did not intend it. + +But if my deerest younge lady should come to harm, and plese your +Honner, the horsepond at the Blew Bore--but Lord preserve us all from +all bad mischeff, and all bad endes, I pray the Lord!--For tho'ff you +Honner is kinde to me in worldly pelf, yet what shall a man get to loos +his soul, as holy Skrittuer says, and plese your Honner? + +But natheless I am in hope of reppentence hereafter, being but a younge +man, if I do wrong thro' ignorens: your Honner being a grate man, and a +grave wit; and I a poor crature, not worthy notice; and your Honner able +to answer for all. But, howsomever, I am + +Your Honner's fetheful sarvant in all dewtie, JOSEPH LEMAN. + +APRIL 15 AND 16. + + + + +LETTER XLVIII + +MR. LOVELACE, TO JOSEPH LEMAN MONDAY, APRIL 17. + + +HONEST JOSEPH, + +You have a worse opinion of your invention than you ought to have. +I must praise it again. Of a plain man's head, I have not known many +better than yours. How often have your forecast and discretion answered +my wishes in cases which I could not foresee, not knowing how my general +directions would succeed, or what might happen in the execution of them! +You are too doubtful of your own abilities, honest Joseph; that's your +fault.--But it being a fault that is owing to natural modesty, you ought +rather to be pitied for it than blamed. + +The affair of Miss Betterton was a youthful frolic. I love dearly to +exercise my invention. I do assure you, Joseph, that I have ever had +more pleasure in my contrivances, than in the end of them. I am no +sensual man: but a man of spirit--one woman is like another--you +understand me, Joseph.--In coursing, all the sport is made by the +winding hare--a barn-door chick is better eating--now you take me, +Joseph. + +Miss Betterton was but a tradesman's daughter. The family, indeed, was +grown rich, and aimed at a new line of gentry; and were unreasonable +enough to expect a man of my family would marry her. I was honest. +I gave the young lady no hope of that; for she put it to me. She +resented--kept up, and was kept up. A little innocent contrivance was +necessary to get her out. But no rape in the case, I assure you, Joseph. +She loved me--I loved her. Indeed, when I got her to the inn, I asked +her no question. It is cruel to ask a modest woman for her consent. It +is creating difficulties to both. Had not her friends been officious, I +had been constant and faithful to her to this day, as far as I know--for +then I had not known my angel. + +I went not abroad upon her account. She loved me too well to have +appeared against me; she refused to sign a paper they had drawn up for +her, to found a prosecution upon; and the brutal creatures would not +permit the mid-wife's assistance, till her life was in danger; and, I +believe, to this her death was owing. + +I went into mourning for her, though abroad at the time. A distinction I +have ever paid to those worthy creatures who dies in childbed by me. + +I was ever nice in my loves.--These were the rules I laid down to myself +on my entrance into active life:--To set the mother above want, if her +friends were cruel, and if I could not get her a husband worthy of her: +to shun common women--a piece of justice I owed to innocent ladies, as +well as to myself: to marry off a former mistress, if possible, before +I took to a new one: to maintain a lady handsomely in her lying-in: to +provide for the little-one, if it lived, according to the degree of its +mother: to go into mourning for the mother, if she died. And the promise +of this was a great comfort to the pretty dears, as they grew near their +times. + +All my errors, all my expenses, have been with and upon women. So I +could acquit my conscience (acting thus honourably by them) as well as +my discretion as to point of fortune. + +All men love women--and find me a man of more honour, in these points, +if you can, Joseph. + +No wonder the sex love me as they do! + +But now I am strictly virtuous. I am reformed. So I have been for a +long time, resolving to marry as soon as I can prevail upon the most +admirable of women to have me. I think of nobody else--it is impossible +I should. I have spared very pretty girls for her sake. Very true, +Joseph! So set your honest heart at rest--You see the pains I take to +satisfy your qualms. + +But, as to Miss Betterton--no rape in the case, I repeat: rapes are +unnatural things, and more are than are imagined, Joseph. I should be +loth to be put to such a streight; I never was. Miss Betterton was taken +from me against her own will. In that case her friends, not I, committed +the rape. + +I have contrived to see the boy twice, unknown to the aunt who +takes care of him; loves him; and would not now part with him on any +consideration. The boy is a fine boy I thank God. No father need be +ashamed of him. He will be well provided for. If not, I would take +care of him. He will have his mother's fortune. They curse the father, +ungrateful wretches! but bless the boy--Upon the whole, there is nothing +vile in this matter on my side--a great deal on the Bettertons. + +Wherefore, Joseph, be not thou in pain, either for my head, or for thy +own neck; nor for the Blue Boar; nor for the pretty Sow. + +I love your jesting. Jesting better becomes a poor man than qualms. +I love to have you jest. All we say, all we do, all we wish for, is +a jest. He that makes life itself not so is a sad fellow, and has the +worst of it. + +I doubt not, Joseph, but you have had your joys, as you say, as well +as your betters. May you have more and more, honest Joseph!--He +that grudges a poor man joy, ought to have none himself. Jest on, +therefore.--Jesting, I repeat, better becomes thee than qualms. + +I had no need to tell you of Miss Betterton. Did I not furnish you with +stories enough, without hers, against myself, to augment your credit +with your cunning masters? Besides, I was loth to mention Miss +Betterton, her friends being all living, and in credit. I loved her +too--for she was taken from me by her cruel friends, while our joys were +young. + +But enough of dear Miss Betterton.--Dear, I say; for death +endears.--Rest to her worthy soul!--There, Joseph, off went a deep sigh +to the memory of Miss Betterton! + +As to the journey of little Titus, (I now recollect the fellow by his +name) let that take its course: a lady dying in childbed eighteen +months ago; no process begun in her life-time; refusing herself to give +evidence against me while she lived--pretty circumstances to found an +indictment for a rape upon! + +As to your young lady, the ever-admirable Miss Clarissa Harlowe, I +always courted her for a wife. Others rather expected marriage from +the vanity of their own hearts, than from my promises; for I was always +careful of what I promised. You know, Joseph, that I have gone beyond my +promises to you. I do to every body; and why? because it is the best +way of showing that I have no grudging or narrow spirit. A promise is +an obligation. A just man will keep his promise, a generous man will go +beyond it.--This is my rule. + +If you doubt my honour to your young lady, it is more than she does. She +would not stay with me an hour if she did. Mine is the steadiest +heart in the world. Hast thou not reason to think it so? Why this +squeamishness then, honest Joseph? + +But it is because thou art honest--so I forgive thee. Whoever loves my +divine Clarissa, loves me. + +Let James Harlowe call me what names he will, for his sister's sake I +will bear them. Do not be concerned for me; her favour will make me rich +amends; his own vilely malicious heart will make his blood boil over +at any time; and when it does, thinkest thou that I will let it touch +thine? Ah! Joseph, Joseph! what a foolish teaser is thy conscience! Such +a conscience as gives a plain man trouble, when he intends to do for the +best, is weakness, not conscience. + +But say what thou wilt, write all thou knowest or hearest of to me, I'll +have patience with every body. Why should I not, when it is as much the +desire of my heart, as it is of thine, to prevent mischief? + +So now, Joseph, having taken all this pains to satisfy thy conscience, +and answer all thy doubts, and to banish all thy fears, let me come to a +new point. + +Your endeavours and mine, which were designed, by round-about ways, to +reconcile all, even against the wills of the most obstinate, have +not, we see answered the end we hoped they would answer; but, on the +contrary, have widened the differences between our families. But this +has not been either your fault or mine: it is owing to the black, +pitch-like blood of your venomous-hearted young master, boiling over, as +he owns, that our honest wishes have hitherto been frustrated. + +Yet we must proceed in the same course. We shall tire them out in time, +and they will propose terms; and when they do, they shall find out how +reasonable mine shall be, little as they deserve from me. + +Persevere, therefore, Joseph, honest Joseph, persevere; and unlikely as +you may imagine the means, our desires will at last be obtained. + +We have nothing for it now, but to go through with our work in the way +we have begun. For since (as I told you in my last) my beloved mistrusts +you, she will blow you up, if she be not mine; if she be, I can, and +will, protect you; and as, if there will be any fault, in her opinion, +it will be rather mine than yours, she must forgive you, and keep her +husband's secrets, for the sake of his reputation; else she will be +guilty of a great failure in her duty. So now you have set your hand to +the plough, Joseph, there is no looking back. + +And what is the consequence of all this: one labour more, and that will +be all that will fall to your lot; at least, of consequence. + +My beloved is resolved not to think of marriage till she has tried +to move her friends to a reconciliation with her. You know they are +determined not to be reconciled. She has it in her head, I doubt not, +to make me submit to the people I hate; and if I did, they would rather +insult me, than receive my condescension as they ought. She even owns, +that she will renounce me, if they insist upon it, provided they will +give up Solmes: so, to all appearance, I am still as far as ever from +the happiness of calling her mine; Indeed I am more likely than ever to +lose her, (if I cannot contrive some way to avail myself of the present +critical situation;) and then, Joseph, all I have been studying, and all +you have been doing, will signify nothing. + +At the place where we are, we cannot long be private. The lodgings +are inconvenient for us, while both together, and while she refuses +to marry. She wants to get me at a distance from her; there are +extraordinary convenient lodgings, in my eye, in London, where we +could be private, and all mischief avoided. When there, (if I get +her thither,) she will insist that I leave her. Miss Howe is for ever +putting her upon contrivances. That, you know, is the reason I have been +obliged, by your means, to play the family off at Harlowe-place upon +Mrs. Howe, and Mrs. Howe upon her daughter--Ah, Joseph! Little need for +your fears for my angel! I only am in danger: but were I the free-liver +I am reported to be, all this could I get over with a wet finger, as the +saying is. + +But, by the help of one of your hints, I have thought of an expedient +which will do ever thing, and raise your reputation, though already +so high, higher still. This Singleton, I hear, is a fellow who loves +enterprising: the view he has to get James Harlowe to be his principal +owner in a large vessel which he wants to be put into the command of, +may be the subject of their present close conversation. But since he +is taught to have so good an opinion of you, Joseph, cannot you (still +pretending an abhorrence of me, and of my contrivances) propose to +Singleton to propose to James Harlowe (who so much thirsts for revenge +upon me) to assist him, with his whole ship's crew, upon occasion, to +carry off his sister to Leith, where both have houses, or elsewhere? + +You may tell them, that if this can be effected, it will make me raving +mad; and bring your young lady into all their measures. + +You can inform them, as from my servant, of the distance she keeps me +at, in hopes of procuring her father's forgiveness, by cruelly giving me +up, if insisted upon. + +You can tell them, that as the only secret my servant has kept from you +is the place we are in, you make no doubt, that a two-guinea bribe will +bring that out, and also an information when I shall be at a distance +from her, that the enterprise may be conducted with safety. + +You may tell them, (still as from my servant,) that we are about to +remove from inconvenient lodgings to others more convenient, (which is +true,) and that I must be often absent from her. + +If they listen to your proposal, you will promote your interest with +Betty, by telling it to her as a secret. Betty will tell Arabella of +it; Arabella will be overjoyed at any thing that will help forward her +revenge upon me; and will reveal it (if her brother do not) to her uncle +Antony; he probably will whisper it to Mrs. Howe; she can keep nothing +from her daughter, though they are always jangling. Her daughter will +acquaint my beloved with it. And if it will not, or if it will, come to +my ears from some of those, you can write it to me, as in confidence, by +way of preventing msicheif; which is the study of us both. + +I can then show it to my beloved; then will she be for placing a greater +confidence in me--that will convince me of her love, which I am now +sometimes ready to doubt. She will be for hastening to the safer +lodgings. I shall have a pretence to stay about her person, as a guard. +She will be convinced that there is no expectation to be had of a +reconciliation. You can give James Harlowe and Singleton continual false +scents, as I shall direct you; so that no mischief can possibly happen. + +And what will be the happy, happy, thrice happy consequence?--The lady +will be mine in an honourable way, we shall all be friends in good time. +The two guineas will be an agreeable addition to the many gratuities I +have helped you to, by the like contrivances, from this stingy family. +Your reputation, both for head and heart, as I hinted before, will be +heightened. The Blue Boar also will be yours; nor shall you have the +least difficulty about raising money to buy the stock, if it be worth +your while to have it. + +Betty will likewise then be yours. You have both saved money, it seems. +The whole Harlowe family, whom you have so faithfully served, ['tis +serving them, surely, to prevent the mischief which their violent +son would have brought upon them,] will throw you in somewhat towards +housekeeping. I will still add to your store--so nothing but happiness +before you! + +Crow, Joseph, crow!--a dunghill of thy own in view; servants to snub at +thy pleasure; a wife to quarrel with, or to love, as thy humour leads +thee; Landlord and Landlady at every word; to be paid, instead of +paying, for thy eating and drinking. But not thus happy only in thyself: +happy in promoting peace and reconciliation between two good families, +in the long run, without hurting any christian soul. O Joseph, honest +Joseph! what envy wilt thou raise, and who would be squeamish with such +prospects before him. + +This one labour, I repeat, crowns the work. If you can get but such a +design entertained by them, whether they prosecute it or not, it will be +equally to the purpose of + +Your loving friend, R. LOVELACE. + + + + +LETTER XLIX + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MRS. HERVEY [ENCLOSED IN HER LAST TO MISS +HOWE.] THURSDAY, APRIL 20. + + +HONOURED MADAM, + +Having not had the favour of an answer to a letter I took the liberty +to write to you on the 14th, I am in some hopes that it may have +miscarried: for I had much rather it should, than to have the +mortification to think that my aunt Hervey deemed me unworthy of the +honour of her notice. + +In this hope, having kept a copy of it, and not become able to express +myself in terms better suited to the unhappy circumstances of things, I +transcribe and enclose what I then wrote.* And I humbly beseech you to +favour the contents of it with your interest. + + + * The contents of the Letter referred to are given in Letter XXIV. of +this volume. + + +Hitherto it is in my power to perform what I undertake for in this +letter; and it would be very grievous to me to be precipitated upon +measures, which may render the desirable reconciliation more difficult. + +If, Madam, I were permitted to write to you with the hopes of being +answered, I could clear my intention with regard to the step I have +taken, although I could not perhaps acquit myself to some of my severest +judges, of an imprudence previous to it. You, I am sure, would pity me, +if you knew all I could say, and how miserable I am in the forfeiture of +the good opinion of all my friends. + +I flatter myself, that their favour is yet retrievable: but, whatever be +the determination at Harlowe-place, do not you, my dearest Aunt, deny +me the favour of a few lines to inform me if there can be any hope of +a reconciliation upon terms less shocking than those heretofore +endeavoured to be imposed upon me; or if (which God forbid!) I am to be +for ever reprobated. + +At least, my dear Aunt, procure for me the justice of my wearing +apparel, and the little money and other things which I wrote to my +sister for, and mention in the enclosed to you; that I may not be +destitute of common conveniencies, or be under a necessity to owe an +obligation for such, where, at present, however, I would least of all +owe it. + +Allow me to say, that had I designed what happened, I might (as to the +money and jewels at least) have saved myself some of the mortification +which I have suffered, and which I still further apprehend, if my +request be not complied with. + +If you are permitted to encourage an eclaircissment of what I hint, I +will open my whole heart to you, and inform you of every thing. + +If it be any pleasure to have me mortified, be pleased to let it be +known, that I am extremely mortified. And yet it is entirely from my +own reflections that I am so, having nothing to find fault with in the +behaviour of the person from whom every evil was to be apprehended. + +The bearer, having business your way, will bring me your answer on +Saturday morning, if you favour me according to my hopes. I knew not +that I should have this opportunity till I had written the above. + +I am, my dearest Aunt, Your ever dutiful, CL. HARLOWE. + +Be pleased to direct for me, if I am to be favoured with a few lines, to +be left at Mr. Osgood's, near Soho-square; and nobody shall ever know of +your goodness to me, if you desire it to be kept a secret. + + + + +LETTER L + +MISS HOWE, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE SATURDAY, APRIL 22. + + +I cannot for my life account for your wretch's teasing ways; but he +certainly doubts your love of him. In this he is a modest man, as well +as somebody else; and tacitly confesses that he does not deserve it. + +Your Israelitish hankerings after the Egyptian onion, (testified still +more in your letter to your aunt,) your often repeated regrets for +meeting him, for being betrayed by him--these he cannot bear. + +I have been looking back on the whole of his conduct, and comparing it +with his general character; and find that he is more consistently, more +uniformly, mean, revengeful, and proud, than either of us once imagined. + +From his cradle, as I may say, as an only child, and a boy, humoursome, +spoiled, mischievous; the governor of his governors. + +A libertine in his riper years, hardly regardful of appearances; and +despising the sex in general, for the faults of particulars of it, who +made themselves too cheap to him. + +What has been his behaviour in your family?--a CLARISSA in view, (from +the time your foolish brother was obliged to take a life from him,) +but defiance for defiances. Getting you into his power by terror, by +artifice. What politeness can be expected from such a man? + +Well, but what in such a situation is to be done? Why, you must +despise him: you must hate him, if you can, and run away from him--But +whither?--Whither indeed, now that your brother is laying foolish plots +to put you in a still worse condition, as it may happen. + +But if you cannot despise and hate him--if you care not to break with +him, you must part with some punctilio's. And if the so doing bring +not on the solemnity, you must put yourself into the protection of the +ladies of his family. + +Their respect for you is of itself a security for his honour to you, if +there could be any room for doubt. And at least, you should remind him +of his offer to bring one of the Miss Montagues to attend you at your +new lodgings in town, and accompany you till all is happily over. + +This, you'll say, will be as good as declaring yourself to be his. And +so let it. You ought not now to think of any thing else but to be his. +Does not your brother's project convince you more and more of this? + +Give over then, my dearest friend, any thoughts of this hopeless +reconciliation, which has kept you balancing thus long. You own, in the +letter before me, that he made very explicit offers, though you give me +not the very words. And he gave his reasons, I perceive, with his wishes +that you should accept them; which very few of the sorry fellows do, +whose plea is generally but a compliment to our self-love--That we must +love them, however presumptuous and unworthy, because they love us. + +Were I in your place, and had your charming delicacies, I should, +perhaps, do as you do. No doubt but I should expect that the man +should urge me with respectful warmth; that he should supplicate with +constancy, and that all his words and actions should tend to the one +principal point; nevertheless, if I suspected art or delay, founded upon +his doubts of my love, I would either condescend to clear up is doubts +or renounce him for ever. + +And in my last case, I, your Anna Howe, would exert myself, and either +find you a private refuge, or resolve to share fortunes with you. + +What a wretch! to be so easily answered by your reference to the arrival +of your cousin Morden! But I am afraid that you was too scrupulous: for +did he not resent that reference? + +Could we have his account of the matter, I fancy, my dear, I should +think you over nice, over delicate.* Had you laid hold of his +acknowledged explicitness, he would have been as much in your power, as +now you seem to be in his: you wanted not to be told, that the person +who had been tricked into such a step as you had taken, must of +necessity submit to many mortifications. + + + * The reader who has seen his account, which Miss Howe could not have +seen, when she wrote thus, will observe that it was not possible for a +person of her true delicacy of mind to act otherwise than she did, to a +man so cruelly and so insolently artful. + + +But were it to me, a girl of spirit as I am thought to be, I do assure +you, I would, in a quarter of an hour (all the time I would allow to +punctilio in such a case as yours) know what he drives at: since either +he must mean well or ill; if ill, the sooner you know it, the better. If +well, whose modesty is it he distresses, but that of his own wife? + +And methinks you should endeavour to avoid all exasperating +recriminations, as to what you have heard of his failure in morals; +especially while you are so happy as not to have occasion to speak of +them by experience. + +I grant that it gives a worthy mind some satisfaction in having borne +its testimony against the immoralities of a bad one. But that correction +which is unseasonably given, is more likely either to harden or make an +hypocrite, than to reclaim. + +I am pleased, however, as well as you, with his making light of your +brother's wise project.--Poor creature! and must Master Jemmy Harlowe, +with his half-wit, pretend to plot, and contrive mischief, yet rail at +Lovelace for the same things?--A witty villain deserves hanging at once +(and without ceremony, if you please): but a half-witted one deserves +broken bones first, and hanging afterwards. I think Lovelace has given +his character in a few words.* + + + * See Letter XLV. of this volume. + + +Be angry at me, if you please; but as sure as you are alive, now that +this poor creature, whom some call your brother, finds he has succeeded +in making you fly your father's house, and that he has nothing to fear +but your getting into your own, and into an independence of him, +he thinks himself equal to any thing, and so he has a mind to fight +Lovelace with his own weapons. + +Don't you remember his pragmatical triumph, as told you by your aunt, +and prided in by that saucy Betty Barnes, from his own foolish mouth?* + + + * See Vol.II. Letter XLVII. + + +I expect nothing from your letter to your aunt. I hope Lovelace will +never know the contents of it. In every one of yours, I see that he +as warmly resents as he dares the little confidence you have in him. I +should resent it too, were I he; and knew that I deserved better. + +Don't be scrupulous about clothes, if you think of putting yourself into +the protection of the ladies of his family. They know how matters stand +between you and your relations, and love you never the worse for the +silly people's cruelty. + +I know you won't demand possession of your estate. But give him a right +to demand it for you; and that will be still better. + +Adieu, my dear! May heaven guide and direct you in all your steps, is +the daily prayer of + +Your ever affectionate and faithful ANNA HOWE. + + + + +LETTER LI + +MR. BELFORD, TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ. FRIDAY, APRIL 21. + + +Thou, Lovelace, hast been long the entertainer; I the entertained. Nor +have I been solicitous to animadvert, as thou wentest along, upon thy +inventions, and their tendency. For I believed, that with all thy airs, +the unequalled perfections and fine qualities of this lady would always +be her protection and security. But now that I find thou hast so far +succeeded, as to induce her to come to town, and to choose her lodgings +in a house, the people of which will too probably damp and suppress any +honourable motions which may arise in thy mind in her favour, I cannot +help writing, and that professedly in her behalf. + +My inducements to this are not owing to virtue: But if they were, what +hope could I have of affecting thee by pleas arising from it? + +Nor would such a man as thou art be deterred, were I to remind thee +of the vengeance which thou mayest one day expect, if thou insultest a +woman of her character, family, and fortune. + +Neither are gratitude and honour motives to be mentioned in a woman's +favour, to men such as we are, who consider all those of the sex as +fair prize, over honour, in the general acceptation of the word, are two +things. + +What then is my motive?--What, but the true friendship that I bear thee, +Lovelace; which makes me plead thy own sake, and thy family's sake, in +the justice thou owest to this incomparable creature; who, however, +so well deserves to have her sake to be mentioned as the principal +consideration. + +Last time I was at M. Hall, thy noble uncle so earnestly pressed me to +use my interest to persuade thee to enter the pale, and gave me so many +family reasons for it, that I could not help engaging myself heartily +on his side of the question; and the rather, as I knew that thy own +intentions with regard to this fine woman were then worthy of her. And +of this I assured his Lordship; who was half afraid of thee, because of +the ill usage thou receivedst from her family. But now, that the case is +altered, let me press the matter home to thee from other considerations. + +By what I have heard of this lady's perfections from every mouth, as +well as from thine, and from every letter thou hast written, where +wilt thou find such another woman? And why shouldst thou tempt her +virtue?--Why shouldst thou wish to try where there is no reason to +doubt? + +Were I in thy case, and designed to marry, and if I preferred a woman +as I know thou dost this to all the women in the world, I should read +to make further trial, knowing what we know of the sex, for fear of +succeeding; and especially if I doubted not, that if there were a woman +in the world virtuous at heart, it is she. + +And let me tell thee, Lovelace, that in this lady's situation, the +trial is not a fair trial. Considering the depth of thy plots and +contrivances: considering the opportunities which I see thou must have +with her, in spite of her own heart; all her relations' follies acting +in concert, though unknown to themselves, with thy wicked, scheming +head: considering how destitute of protection she is: considering the +house she is to be in, where she will be surrounded with thy implements; +specious, well-bred and genteel creatures, not easily to be detected +when they are disposed to preserve appearances, especially by the young +inexperienced lady wholly unacquainted with the town: considering all +these things, I say, what glory, what cause of triumph wilt thou have, +if she should be overcome?--Thou, too, a man born for intrigue, full +of invention, intrepid, remorseless, able patiently to watch for thy +opportunity, not hurried, as most men, by gusts of violent passion, +which often nip a project in the bud, and make the snail, that was just +putting out his horns to meet the inviter, withdraw into its shell--a +man who has no regard to his word or oath to the sex; the lady +scrupulously strict to her word, incapable of art or design; apt +therefore to believe well of others--it would be a miracle if she stood +such an attempter, such attempts, and such snares, as I see will be +laid for her. And, after all, I see not when men are so frail without +importunity, that so much should be expected from women, daughters of +the same fathers and mothers, and made up of the same brittle compounds, +(education all the difference,) nor where the triumph is in subduing +them. + +May there not be other Lovelaces, thou askest, who, attracted by her +beauty, may endeavour to prevail with her?* + + + * See Letter XVIII. of this volume. + + +No; there cannot, I answer, be such another man, person, mind, fortune, +and thy character, as above given, taken in. If thou imaginest there +could, such is thy pride, that thou wouldst think the worse of thyself. + +But let me touch upon thy predominant passion, revenge; for love is but +second to that, as I have often told thee, though it has set thee into +raving at me: what poor pretences for revenge are the difficulties thou +hadst in getting her off; allowing that she had run a risque of being +Solmes's wife, had she staid? If these are other than pretences, why +thankest thou not those who, by their persecutions of her, answered thy +hopes, and threw her into thy power?--Besides, are not the pretences +thou makest for further trial, most ungratefully, as well as +contradictorily founded upon the supposition of error in her, occasioned +by her favour to thee? + +And let me, for the utter confusion of thy poor pleas of this nature, +ask thee--Would she, in thy opinion, had she willingly gone off with +thee, have been entitled to better quarter?--For a mistress indeed she +might: but how wouldst thou for a wife have had cause to like her half +so well as now? + +Has she not demonstrated, that even the highest provocations were not +sufficient to warp her from her duty to her parents, though a native, +and, as I may say, an originally involuntary duty, because native? And +is not this a charming earnest that she will sacredly observe a still +higher duty into which she proposes to enter, when she does enter, by +plighted vows, and entirely as a volunteer? + +That she loves thee, wicked as thou art, and cruel as a panther, there +is no reason to doubt. Yet, what a command has she over herself, that +such a penetrating self-flatterer as thyself is sometimes ready to doubt +it! Though persecuted on the one hand, as she was, by her own family, +and attracted, on the other, by the splendour of thine; every one of +whom courts her to rank herself among them! + +Thou wilt perhaps think that I have departed from my proposition, and +pleaded the lady's sake more than thine, in the above--but no such +thing. All that I have written is more in thy behalf than in her's; +since she may make thee happy; but it is next to impossible, I should +think, if she preserve her delicacy, that thou canst make her so. What +is the love of a rakish heart? There cannot be peculiarity in it. But I +need not give my further reasons. Thou wilt have ingenuousness enough, I +dare say, were there occasion for it, to subscribe to my opinion. + +I plead not for the state from any great liking to it myself. Nor have +I, at present, thoughts of entering into it. But, as thou art the last +of thy name; as thy family is of note and figure in thy country; and as +thou thyself thinkest that thou shalt one day marry: Is it possible, let +me ask thee, that thou canst have such another opportunity as thou now +hast, if thou lettest this slip? A woman in her family and fortune not +unworthy of thine own (though thou art so apt, from pride of ancestry, +and pride of heart, to speak slightly of the families thou dislikest); +so celebrated for beauty; and so noted at the same time for prudence, +for soul, (I will say, instead of sense,) and for virtue? + +If thou art not so narrow-minded an elf, as to prefer thine own single +satisfaction to posterity, thou, who shouldst wish to beget children for +duration, wilt not postpone till the rake's usual time; that is to say, +till diseases or years, or both, lay hold of thee; since in that case +thou wouldst entitle thyself to the curses of thy legitimate progeny +for giving them a being altogether miserable: a being which they will +be obliged to hold upon a worse tenure than that tenant-courtesy, +which thou callest the worst;* to wit, upon the Doctor's courtesy; +thy descendants also propagating (if they shall live, and be able to +propagate) a wretched race, that shall entail the curse, or the reason +for it, upon remote generations. + +Wicked as the sober world accounts you and me, we have not yet, it is +to be hoped, got over all compunction. Although we find religion against +us, we have not yet presumed those who do. And we know better than to +be even doubters. In short, we believe a future state of rewards and +punishments. But as we have so much youth and health in hand, we hope to +have time for repentance. That is to say, in plain English, [nor think +thou me too grave, Lovelace: thou art grave sometimes, though not +often,] we hope to live to sense, as long as sense can relish, and +purpose to reform when we can sin no longer. + +And shall this admirable woman suffer for her generous endeavours to set +on foot thy reformation; and for insisting upon proofs of the sincerity +of thy professions before she will be thine? + +Upon the whole matter, let me wish thee to consider well what thou art +about, before thou goest a step farther in the path which thou hast +chalked out for thyself to tread, and art just going to enter upon. +Hitherto all is so far right, that if the lady mistrusts thy honour, she +has no proofs. Be honest to her, then, in her sense of the word. None of +thy companions, thou knowest, will offer to laugh at what thou dost. +And if they should (of thy entering into a state which has been so much +ridiculed by thee, and by all of us) thou hast one advantage--it is +this, that thou canst not be ashamed. + +Deferring to the post-day to close my letter, I find one left at my +cousin Osgood's, with directions to be forwarded to the lady. It +was brought within these two hours by a particular hand, and has a +Harlowe-seal upon it. As it may therefore be of importance, I dispatch +it with my own, by my servant, post-haste.* + + + * This letter was from Miss Arabella Harlowe. See Let. LV. + + +I suppose you will soon be in town. Without the lady, I hope. Farewell. + +Be honest, and be happy, J. BELFORD. + +SAT. APRIL 22. + + + + +LETTER LII + +MRS. HERVEY, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE [IN ANSWER TO LETTER XVIII.] + + +DEAR NIECE, + +It would be hard not to write a few lines, so much pressed to write, to +one I ever loved. Your former letter I received; yet was not at liberty +to answer it. I break my word to answer you now. + +Strange informations are every day received about you. The wretch you +are with, we are told, is every hour triumphing and defying--Must not +these informations aggravate? You know the uncontroulableness of the +man. He loves his own humour better than he loves you--though so fine a +creature as you are! I warned you over and over: no young lady was ever +more warned!--Miss Clarissa Harlowe to do such a thing! + +You might have given your friends the meeting. If you had held your +aversion, it would have been complied with. As soon as I was intrusted +myself with their intention to give up the point, I gave you a hint--a +dark one perhaps*--but who would have thought--O Miss!--Such an artful +flight!--Such cunning preparations! + +But you want to clear up things--what can you clear up? Are you not gone +off?--With a Lovelace too? What, my dear, would you clear up? + +You did not design to go, you say. Why did you meet him then, chariot +and six, horsemen, all prepared by him? O my dear, how art produces +art!--Will it be believed?--If it would, what power will he be +thought to have had over you!--He--Who?--Lovelace!--The vilest of +libertines!--Over whom? A Clarissa!--Was your love for such a man above +your reason? Above your resolution? What credit would a belief of this, +if believed, bring you?--How mend the matter?--Oh! that you had stood +the next morning! + +I'll tell you all that was intended if you had. + +It was, indeed, imagined that you would not have been able to resist +your father's entreaties and commands. He was resolved to be all +condescension, if anew you had not provoked him. I love my Clary +Harlowe, said he, but an hour before the killing tidings were brought +him; I love her as my life: I will kneel to her, if nothing else will +do, to prevail upon her to oblige me. + +Your father and mother (the reverse of what should have been!) would +have humbled themselves to you: and if you could have denied them, and +refused to sign the settlements previous to the meeting, they would have +yielded, although with regret. + +But it was presumed, so naturally sweet your temper, so self-denying +as they thought you, that you could not have withstood them, +notwithstanding all your dislike of the one man, without a greater +degree of headstrong passion for the other, than you had given any of us +reason to expect from you. + +If you had, the meeting on Wednesday would have been a lighter trial to +you. You would have been presented to all your assembled friends, with +a short speech only, 'That this was the young creature, till very lately +faultless, condescending, and obliging; now having cause to glory in a +triumph over the wills of father, mother, uncles, the most indulgent; +over family-interests, family-views; and preferring her own will to +every body's! and this for a transitory preference to person only; there +being no comparison between the men in their morals.' + +Thus complied with, and perhaps blessed, by your father and mother, and +the consequences of your disobedience deprecated in the solemnest manner +by your inimitable mother, your generosity would have been appealed to, +since your duty would have been fount too weak an inducement, and you +would have been bid to withdraw for one half hour's consideration. Then +would the settlements have been again tendered for your signing, by +the person least disobliging to you; by your good Norton perhaps; she +perhaps seconded by your father again; and, if again refused, you +would have again have been led in to declare such your refusal. Some +restrictions which you yourself had proposed, would have been insisted +upon. You would have been permitted to go home with me, or with your +uncle Antony, (with which of us was not agreed upon, because they hoped +you might be persuaded,) there to stay till the arrival of your cousin +Morden; or till your father could have borne to see you; or till assured +that the views of Lovelace were at an end. + +This the intention, your father so set upon your compliance, so much in +hopes that you would have yielded, that you would have been prevailed +upon by methods so condescending and so gentle; no wonder that he, in +particular, was like a distracted man, when he heard of your flight--of +your flight so premeditated;--with your ivy summer-house dinings, your +arts to blind me, and all of us!--Naughty, naughty, young creature! + +I, for my part, would not believe it, when told of it. Your uncle Hervey +would not believe it. We rather expected, we rather feared, a still more +desperate adventure. There could be but one more desperate; and I +was readier to have the cascade resorted to, than the garden +back-door.--Your mother fainted away, while her heart was torn between +the two apprehensions.--Your father, poor man! your father was +beside himself for near an hour--What imprecations!--What dreadful +imprecations!--To this day he can hardly bear your name: yet can +think of nobody else. Your merits, my dear, but aggravate your +fault.--Something of fresh aggravation every hour.--How can any favour +be expected? + +I am sorry for it; but am afraid nothing you ask will be complied with. + +Why mention you, my dear, the saving you from mortifications, who have +gone off with a man? What a poor pride is it to stand upon any thing +else! + +I dare not open my lips in your favour. Nobody dare. Your letter must +stand by itself. This has caused me to send it to Harlowe-place. Expect +therefore great severity. May you be enabled to support the lot you have +drawn! O my dear! how unhappy have you made every body! Can you expect +to be happy? Your father wishes you had never been born. Your poor +mother--but why should I afflict you? There is now no help!--You must be +changed, indeed, if you are not very unhappy yourself in the reflections +your thoughtful mind must suggest to you. + +You must now make the best of your lot. Yet not married, it seems! + +It is in your power, you say, to perform whatever you shall undertake +to do. You may deceive yourself: you hope that your reputation and the +favour of your friends may be retrieved. Never, never, both, I doubt, +if either. Every offended person (and that is all who loved you, and are +related to you) must join to restore you: when can these be of one mind +in a case so notoriously wrong? + +It would be very grievous, you say, to be precipitated upon measures +that may make the desirable reconciliation more difficult. Is it now, my +dear, a time for you to be afraid of being precipitated? At present, +if ever, there can be no thought of reconciliation. The upshot of your +precipitation must first be seen. There may be murder yet, as far as we +know. Will the man you are with part willingly with you? If not, what +may be the consequence? If he will--Lord bless me! what shall we +think of his reasons for it?--I will fly this thought. I know your +purity--But, my dear, are you not out of all protection?--Are you not +unmarried?--Have you not (making your daily prayers useless) thrown +yourself into temptation? And is not the man the most wicked of +plotters? + +You have hitherto, you say, (and I think, my dear, with an air +unbecoming to your declared penitence,) no fault to find with the +behaviour of a man from whom every evil was apprehended: like Caesar to +the Roman augur, which I heard you tell of, who had bid him beware the +Ides of March: the Ides of March, said Caesar, seeing the augur among +the crowd, as he marched in state to the senate-house, from which he +was never to return alive, the Ides of March are come. But they are not +past, the augur replied. Make the application, my dear: may you be able +to make this reflection upon his good behaviour to the last of your +knowledge of him! May he behave himself better to you, than he ever did +to any body else over whom he had power! Amen! + +No answer, I beseech you. I hope your messenger will not tell any body +that I have written to you. And I dare say you will not show what I +have written to Mr. Lovelace--for I have written with the less reserve, +depending upon your prudence. + +You have my prayers. + +My Dolly knows not that I write: nobody does*; not even Mr. Hervey. + + + * Notwithstanding what Mrs. Hervey here says, it will be hereafter seen +that this severe letter was written in private concert with the +implacable Arabella. + + +Dolly would have several times written: but having defended your fault +with heat, and with a partiality that alarmed us, (such a fall as +your's, my dear, must be alarming to all parents,) she has been +forbidden, on pain of losing our favour for ever: and this at your +family's request, as well as by her father's commands. + +You have the poor girl's hourly prayers, I will, however, tell you, +though she knows not what I do, as well as those of + +Your truly afflicted aunt, D. HERVEY. + +FRIDAY, APRIL 21. + + + + +LETTER LIII + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE [WITH THE PRECEDING.] SAT. MORN. +APRIL 22. + + +I have just now received the enclosed from my aunt Hervey. Be pleased, +my dear, to keep her secret of having written to the unhappy wretch her +niece. + +I may go to London, I see, or where I will. No matter what becomes of +me. + +I was the willinger to suspend my journey thither till I heard from +Harlowe-place. I thought, if I could be encouraged to hope for a +reconciliation, I would let this man see, that he should not have me in +his power, but upon my own terms, if at all. + +But I find I must be his, whether I will or not; and perhaps through +still greater mortifications than those great ones which I have already +met with--And must I be so absolutely thrown upon a man, with whom I am +not at all satisfied! + +My letter is sent, you see, to Harlowe-place. My heart aches for the +reception it may meet with there. + +One comfort only arises to me from its being sent; that my aunt will +clear herself, by the communication, from the supposition of having +corresponded with the poor creature whom they have all determine to +reprobate. It is no small part of my misfortune that I have weakened the +confidence one dear friend has in another, and made one look cool upon +another. My poor cousin Dolly, you see, has reason to regret on this +account, as well as my aunt. Miss Howe, my dear Miss Howe, is but too +sensible of the effects of my fault, having had more words with her +mother on my account, than ever she had on any other. Yet the man who +has drawn me into all this evil I must be thrown upon!--Much did I +consider, much did I apprehend, before my fault, supposing I were to be +guilty of it: but I saw it not in all its shocking lights. + +And now, to know that my father, an hour before he received the tidings +of my supposed flight, owned that he loved me as his life: that he would +have been all condescension: that he would--Oh! my dear, how tender, how +mortifyingly tender now in him! My aunt need not have been afraid, that +it should be known that she has sent me such a letter as this!--A father +to kneel to his child!--There would not indeed have been any bearing of +that!--What I should have done in such a case, I know not. Death +would have been much more welcome to me than such a sight, on such an +occasion, in behalf of a man so very, very disgustful to me!--But I had +deserve annihilation, had I suffered my father to kneel in vain. + +Yet, had but the sacrifice of inclination and personal preference been +all, less than KNEELING should have been done. My duty should have been +the conqueror of my inclination. But an aversion--an aversion so +very sincere!--The triumph of a cruel and ambitious brother, ever so +uncontroulable, joined with the insults of an envious sister, bringing +wills to theirs, which otherwise would have been favourable to me: the +marriage-duties, so absolutely indispensable, so solemnly to be engaged +for: the marriage-intimacies (permit me to say to you, my friend, what +the purest, although with apprehension, must think of) so very +intimate: myself one who has never looked upon any duty, much less a +voluntary-vowed one, with indifference; could it have been honest in me +to have given my hand to an odious hand, and to have consented to such a +more than reluctant, such an immiscible union, if I may so call it?--For +life too!--Did not I think more and deeper than most young creatures +think; did I not weigh, did I not reflect, I might perhaps have been +less obstinate.--Delicacy, (may I presume to call it?) thinking, +weighing, reflection, are not blessings (I he not found them such) in +the degree I have them. I wish I had been able, in some very nice +cases, to have known what indifference was; yet not to have my ignorance +imputable to me as a fault. Oh! my dear! the finer sensibilities, if I +may suppose mine to be such, make not happy. + +What a method had my friends intended to take with me! This, I dare +say, was a method chalked out by my brother. He, I suppose, was to have +presented me to all my assembled friends, as the daughter capable of +preferring her own will to the wills of them all. It would have been a +sore trial, no doubt. Would to Heaven, however, I had stood it--let the +issue have been what it would, would to Heaven I had stood it! + +There may be murder, my aunt says. This looks as if she knew of +Singleton's rash plot. Such an upshot, as she calls it, of this unhappy +affair, Heaven avert! + +She flies a thought, that I can less dwell upon--a cruel thought--but +she has a poor opinion of the purity she compliments me with, if she +thinks that I am not, by God's grace, above temptation from this sex. +Although I never saw a man, whose person I could like, before this +man; yet his faulty character allowed me but little merit from the +indifference I pretended to on his account. But, now I see him in nearer +lights, I like him less than ever. Unpolite, cruel, insolent!--Unwise! +A trifler with his own happiness; the destroyer of mine!--His last +treatment--my fate too visibly in his power--master of his own wishes, +[shame to say it,] if he knew what to wish for.--Indeed I never liked +him so little as now. Upon my word, I think I could hate him, (if I do +not already hate him) sooner than any man I ever thought tolerably +of--a good reason why: because I have been more disappointed in my +expectations of him; although they never were so high, as to have made +him my choice in preference to the single life, had that been +permitted me. Still, if the giving him up for ever will make my path to +reconciliation easy, and if they will signify as much to me, they shall +see that I never will be his: for I have the vanity to think my soul his +soul's superior. + +You will say I rave: forbidden to write to my aunt, and taught to +despair of reconciliation, you, my dear, must be troubled with my +passionate resentments. What a wretch was I to give him a meeting, since +by that I put it out of my power to meet my assembled friends!--All +would now, if I had met them, been over; and who can tell when my +present distresses will?--Rid of both men, I had been now perhaps at my +aunt Hervey's or at my uncle Antony's; wishing for my cousin Morden's +arrival, who might have accommodated all. + +I intended, indeed, to have stood it: And, if I had, how know I by whose +name I might now have been called? For how should I have resisted a +condescending, a kneeling father, had he been able to have kept his +temper with me? + +Yet my aunt say he would have relented, if I had not. Perhaps he would +have been moved by my humility, before he could have shown such undue +condescension. Such temper as he would have received me with might have +been improved upon in my favour. And that he had designed ultimately to +relent, how it clears my friends (at least to themselves) and condemns +me! O why were my aunt's hints (I remember them now) so very dark?--Yet +I intended to have returned after the interview; and then perhaps +she would have explained herself.--O this artful, this designing +Lovelace--yet I must repeat, that most ought I to blame myself for +meeting him. + +But far, far, be banished from me fruitless recrimination! Far banished, +because fruitless! Let me wrap myself about in the mantle of my own +integrity, and take comfort in my unfaulty intention! Since it is now +too late to look back, let me collect all my fortitude, and endeavour to +stand those shafts of angry Providence, which it will not permit me to +shun! That, whatever the trials may be which I am destined to undergo, I +may not behave unworthily in them, and may come out amended by them. + +Join with me in this prayer, my beloved friend; for your own honour's +sake, as well as for love's sake, join with me in it; lest a deviation +on my side should, with the censorious, cast a shade upon a friendship +which has no levity in it; and the basis of which is improvement, as +well in the greater as lesser duties. + +CL. HARLOWE. + + + + +LETTER LIV + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE SATURDAY AFTERNOON, APRIL 22. + + +O my best, my only friend! Now indeed is my heart broken! It has +received a blow it never will recover. Think not of corresponding with +a wretch who now seems absolutely devoted. How can it be otherwise, if +a parent's curses have the weight I always attributed to them, and have +heard so many instances in confirmation of that weight!--Yes, my dear +Miss Howe, superadded to all my afflictions, I have the consequences +of a father's curse to struggle with! How shall I support this +reflection!--My past and my present situation so much authorizing my +apprehensions! + +I have, at last, a letter from my unrelenting sister. Would to Heaven I +had not provoked it by my second letter to my aunt Hervey! It lay ready +for me, it seems. The thunder slept, till I awakened it. I enclose the +letter itself. Transcribe it I cannot. There is no bearing the thoughts +of it: for [shocking reflection!] the curse extends to the life beyond +this. + +I am in the depth of vapourish despondency. I can only repeat--shun, +fly, correspond not with a wretch so devoted as + +CL. HARLOWE. + + + + +LETTER LV + +TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE TO BE LEFT AT MR. OSGOOD'S, NEAR SOHO-SQUARE +FRIDAY, APRIL 21. + + +It was expected you would send again to me, or to my aunt Hervey. The +enclosed has lain ready for you, therefore, by direction. You will have +no answer from any body, write to whom you will, and as often as you +will, and what you will. + +It was designed to bring you back by proper authority, or to send you +whither the disgraces you have brought upon us all should be in the +likeliest way, after a while, to be forgotten. But I believe that design +is over: so you may range securely--nobody will think it worth while to +give themselves any trouble about you. Yet my mother has obtained leave +to send you your clothes of all sorts: but your clothes only. This is +a favour you'll see by the within letter not designed you: and now not +granted for your sake, but because my poor mother cannot bear in her +sight any thing you used to wear. Read the enclosed, and tremble. + +ARABELLA HARLOWE. + + +TO THE MOST UNGRATEFUL AND UNDUTIFUL OF DAUGHTERS HARLOWE-PLACE, APRIL +15. + +SISTER THAT WAS! + +For I know not what name you are permitted, or choose to go by. + +You have filled us all with distraction. My father, in the first +agitations of his mind, on discovering your wicked, your shameful +elopement, imprecated on his knees a fearful curse upon you. Tremble +at the recital of it!--No less, than 'that you may meet your punishment +both here and hereafter, by means of the very wretch in whom you have +chosen to place your wicked confidence.' + +Your clothes will not be sent you. You seen, by leaving them behind you, +to have been secure of them, whenever you demanded them, but perhaps you +could think of nothing but meeting your fellow:--nothing but how to get +off your forward self!--For every thing seems to have been forgotten +but what was to contribute to your wicked flight.--Yet you judged right, +perhaps, that you would have been detected had you endeavoured to get +away with your clothes.--Cunning creature! not to make one step that we +would guess at you by! Cunning to effect your own ruin, and the disgrace +of all the family! + +But does the wretch put you upon writing for your things, for fear you +should be too expensive to him?--That's it, I suppose. + +Was there ever a giddier creature?--Yet this is the celebrated, the +blazing Clarissa--Clarissa what? Harlowe, no doubt!--And Harlowe it will +be, to the disgrace of us all! + +Your drawings and your pieces are all taken down; as is also your +whole-length picture, in the Vandyke taste, from your late parlour: they +are taken down, and thrown into your closet, which will be nailed up, +as if it were not a part of the house, there to perish together: For who +can bear to see them? Yet, how did they use to be shown to every body: +the former, for the magnifying of your dainty finger-works; the latter, +for the imputed dignity (dignity now in the dust!) of your boasted +figure; and this by those fond parents from whom you have run away with +so much, yet with so little contrivance! + +My brother vows revenge upon your libertine--for the family's sake he +vows it--not for yours!--for he will treat you, he declares, like a +common creature, if ever he sees you: and doubts not that this will be +your fate. + +My uncle Harlowe renounces you for ever. + +So does my uncle Antony. + +So does my aunt Hervey. + +So do I, base, unworthy creature! the disgrace of a good family, and +the property of an infamous rake, as questionless you will soon find +yourself, if you are not already. + +Your books, since they have not taught you what belongs to your family, +to your sex, and to your education, will not be sent to you. Your money +neither. Nor yet the jewels so undeservedly made yours. For it is wished +you may be seen a beggar along London-streets. + +If all this is heavy, lay your hand to your heart, and ask yourself, why +you have deserved it? + +Every man whom your pride taught you to reject with scorn (Mr. Solmes +excepted, who, however, has reason to rejoice that he missed you) +triumphs in your shameful elopement, and now knows how to account for +his being refused. + +Your worthy Norton is ashamed of you, and mingles her tears with your +mother's; both reproaching themselves for their shares in you, and in so +fruitless an education. + +Every body, in short, is ashamed of you: but none more than + +ARABELLA HARLOWE. + + + + +LETTER LVI + +MISS HOWE, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE TUESDAY, APRIL 25. + + +Be comforted; be not dejected; do not despond, my dearest and +best-beloved friend. God Almighty is just and gracious, and gives not +his assent to rash and inhuman curses. Can you think that Heaven will +seal to the black passions of its depraved creatures? If it did, malice, +envy, and revenge would triumph; and the best of the human race, blasted +by the malignity of the worst, would be miserable in both worlds. + +This outrageousness shows only what manner of spirit they are of, and +how much their sordid views exceed their parental love. 'Tis all owing +to rage and disappointment--disappointment in designs proper to be +frustrated. + +If you consider this malediction as it ought to be considered, a person +of your piety must and will rather pity and pray for your rash father, +than terrify yourself on the occasion. None bug God can curse; parents +or others, whoever they be, can only pray to Him to curse: and such +prayers can have no weight with a just and all-perfect Being, the +motives to which are unreasonable, and the end proposed by them cruel. + +Has not God commanded us to bless and curse not? Pray for your father, +then, I repeat, that he incur not the malediction he has announced on +you; since he has broken, as you see, a command truly divine; while you, +by obeying that other precept which enjoins us to pray for them that +persecute and curse us, will turn the curse into a blessing. + +My mother blames them for this wicked letter of your sister; and she +pities you; and, of her own accord, wished me to write to comfort you, +for this once: for she says, it is pity your heart, which was so noble, +(and when the sense of your fault, and the weight of a parent's curse +are so strong upon you,) should be quite broken. + +Lord bless me, how your aunt writes!--Can there be two rights and two +wrongs in palpable cases!--But, my dear, she must be wrong: so they all +have been, justify themselves now as they will. They can only justify +themselves to themselves from selfish principles, resolving to acquit, +not fairly to try themselves. Did your unkind aunt, in all the tedious +progress of your contentions with them, give you the least hope of their +relenting?--Her dark hints now I recollect as well as you. But why was +any thing good or hopeful to be darkly hinted?--How easy was it for her, +who pretended always to love you; for her, who can give such flowing +license to her pen for your hurt; to have given you one word, one line +(in confidence) of their pretended change of measures! + +But do not mind their after-pretences, my dear--all of them serve but +for tacit confessions of their vile usage of you. I will keep your +aunt's secret, never fear. I would not, on any consideration, that my +mother should see her letter. + +You will now see that you have nothing left but to overcome all +scrupulousness, and marry as son as you have an opportunity. Determine +to do so, my dear. + +I will give you a motive for it, regarding myself. For this I have +resolved, and this I have vowed, [O friend, the best beloved of my +heart, be not angry with me for it!] 'That so long as your happiness is +in suspence, I will never think of marrying.' In justice to the man I +shall have, I have vowed this: for, my dear, must I not be miserable, +if you are so? And what an unworthy wife must I be to any man who cannot +have interest enough in my heart to make his obligingness a balance for +an affliction he has not caused! + +I would show Lovelace your sister's abominable letter, were it to me. I +enclose it. It shall not have a place in this house. This will enter him +of course into the subject which you now ought to have most in view. +Let him see what you suffer for him. He cannot prove base to such an +excellence. I should never enjoy my head or my senses should this +man prove a villain to you!--With a merit so exalted, you may have +punishment more than enough for your involuntary fault in that husband. + +I would not have you be too sure that their project to seize you is +over. The words intimating that it is over, in the letter of that +abominable Arabella, seem calculated to give you security.--She only +says she believes that design is over.--And I do not yet find from Miss +Lloyd that it is disavowed. So it will be best, when you are in London, +to be private, and, for fear of the worst, to let every direction to be +a third place; for I would not, for the world, have you fall into the +hands of such flaming and malevolent spirits by surprize. + +I will myself be content to direct you at some third place; and I shall +then be able to aver to my mother, or to any other, if occasion be, that +I know not where you are. + +Besides, this measure will make you less apprehensive of the +consequences of their violence, should they resolve to attempt to carry +you of in spite of Lovelace. + +I would have you direct to Mr. Hickman, even your answer to this. I have +a reason for it. Besides, my mother, notwithstanding this particular +indulgence, is very positive. They have prevailed upon her, I know, to +give her word to this purpose--Spiteful, poor wretches! How I hate in +particular your foolish uncle Antony. + +I would not have your thought dwell on the contents of your sister's +shocking letter; but pursue other subjects--the subjects before you. +And let me know your progress with Lovelace, and what he says to this +diabolical curse. So far you may enter into this hateful subject. I +expect that this will aptly introduce the grant topic between you, +without needing a mediator. + +Come, my dear, when things are at worst they will mend. Good often comes +when evil is expected.--But if you despond, there can be no hopes of +cure. Don't let them break your heart; for that is plain to me, is now +what some people have in view for you to do. + +How poor to withhold from you your books, your jewels, and your money! +As money is all you can at present want, since they will vouchsafe +to send your clothes, I send fifty guineas by the bearer, enclosed in +single papers in my Norris's Miscellanies. I charge you, as you love me, +return them not. + +I have more at your service. So, if you like not your lodgings or his +behaviour when you get to town, leave both them and him out of hand. + +I would advise you to write to Mr. Morden without delay. If he intends +for England, it may hasten him. And you will do very well till he can +come. But, surely Lovelace will be infatuated, if he secure not his +happiness by your consent, before that of Mr. Morden's is made needful +on his arrival. + +Once more, my dear, let me beg of you to be comforted. Manage with +your usual prudence the stake before you, and all will still be happy. +Suppose yourself to be me, and me to be you, [you may--for your distress +is mine,] and then you will add full day to these but glimmering lights +which are held out to you by + +Your ever affectionate and faithful ANNA HOWE. + +I hurry this away by Robert. I will inquire into the truth of your +aunt's pretences about the change of measures which she says they +intended in case you had not gone away. + + + + +LETTER LVII + +MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE WEDNESDAY MORNING, APRIL 26. + + +Your letter, my beloved Miss Howe, gives me great comfort. How sweetly +do I experience the truth of the wise man's observation, That a faithful +friend is the medicine of life! + +Your messenger finds me just setting out for London: the chaise at the +door. Already I have taken leave of the good widow, who has obliged +me with the company of her eldest daughter, at Mr. Lovelace's request, +while he rides by us. The young gentlewoman is to return in two or three +days with the chaise, in its way to my Lord M.'s Hertfordshire seat. + +I received my sister's dreadful letter on Sunday, when Mr. Lovelace was +out. He saw, on his return, my extreme anguish and dejection; and he was +told how much worse I had been: for I had fainted away more than once. + +I think the contents of it have touched my head as well as my heart. + +He would fain have seen it. But I would not permit that, because of the +threatenings he would have found in it against himself. As it was, the +effect it had upon me made him break out into execrations and menaces. I +was so ill that he himself advised me to delay going to town on Monday, +as I proposed to do. + +He is extremely regardful and tender of me. All that you supposed would +follow the violent letter, from him, has followed it. He has offered +himself to my acceptance in so unreserved a manner, that I am concerned +I have written so freely and diffidently of him. Pray, my dearest +friend, keep to yourself every thing that may appear disreputable of him +from me. + +I must acquaint you that his kind behaviour, and my low-spiritedness, +co-operating with your former advice, and my unhappy situation, made me +that very Sunday evening receive unreservedly his declarations: and now +indeed I am more in his power than ever. + +He presses me every hour (indeed as needlessly, as unkindly) for fresh +tokens of my esteem for him, and confidence in him. And as I have been +brought to some verbal concessions, if he should prove unworthy, I am +sure I shall have great reason to blame this violent letter: for I have +no resolution at all. Abandoned thus of all my natural friends, of whose +returning favour I have now no hopes, and only you to pity me, and you +restrained, as I may say, I have been forced to turn my desolate heart +to such protection as I could find. + +All my comfort is, that your advice repeatedly given me to the same +purpose, in your kind letter before me, warrants me. I now set out the +more cheerfully to London on that account: for, before, a heavy weight +hung upon my heart; and although I thought it best and safest to go, +yet my spirits sunk, I know not why, at every motion I made towards a +preparation for it. + +I hope no mischief will happen on the road.--I hope these violent +spirits will not meet. + +Every one is waiting for me.--Pardon me, my best, my kindest friend, +that I return your Norris. In these more promising prospects, I cannot +have occasion for your favour. Besides, I have some hope that with my +clothes they will send me the money I wrote for, although it is denied +me in the letter. If they do not, and if I should have occasion, I can +but signify my wants to so ready a friend. And I have promised to be +obliged only to you. But I had rather methinks you should have it still +to say, if challenged, that nothing of this nature has been either +requested or done. I say this with a view entirely to my future hopes +of recovering your mother's favour, which, next to that of my own father +and mother, I am most solicitous to recover. + +I must acquaint you wit one thing more, notwithstanding my hurry; and +that is, that Mr. Lovelace offered either to attend me to Lord M.'s, or +to send for his chaplain, yesterday. He pressed me to consent to this +proposal most earnestly, and even seemed desirous rather to have the +ceremony pass here than at London: for when there, I had told him, it +was time enough to consider of so weighty and important a matter. Now, +upon the receipt of your kind, your consolatory letter, methinks I +could almost wish it had been in my power to comply with his earnest +solicitations. But this dreadful letter has unhinged my whole frame. +Then some little punctilio surely is necessary. No preparation made. +No articles drawn. No license ready. Grief so extreme: no pleasure in +prospect, nor so much as in wish--O my dear, who could think of entering +into so solemn an engagement? Who, so unprepared, could seem to be so +ready? + +If I could flatter myself that my indifference to all the joys of this +life proceeded from proper motives, not rather from the disappointments +and mortifications my pride has met with, how much rather, I think, +should I choose to be wedded to my shroud than to any man on earth! + +Indeed I have at present no pleasure but in your friendship. Continue +that to me, I beseech you. If my heart rises hereafter to a capacity of +more, it must be built on that foundation. + +My spirits sink again on setting out. Excuse this depth of vapourish +dejection, which forbids me even hope, the cordial that keeps life +from stagnating, and which never was denied me till within these +eight-and-forty hours. + +But 'tis time to relieve you. + +Adieu, my best beloved and kindest friend! Pray for your CLARISSA. + + + + +LETTER LVIII + +MISS HOWE, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE THURSDAY, APRIL 27. + + +I am sorry you sent back my Norris. But you must be allowed to do as you +please. So must I, in my turn. We must neither of us, perhaps, expect +absolutely of the other what is the rightest thing to be done: and +yet few folks, so young as we are, better know what the rightest is. I +cannot separate myself from you; although I give a double instance of my +vanity in joining myself with you in this particular assertion. + +I am most heartily rejoiced that your prospects are so much mended; and +that, as I hoped, good has been produced out of evil. What must the man +have been, what must have been his views, had he not taken such a +turn, upon a letter so vile, and upon a treatment so unnatural, himself +principally the occasion of it? + +You know best your motives for suspending: but I wish you could have +taken him at offers so earnest.* Why should you not have permitted him +to send for Lord M.'s chaplain? If punctilio only was in the way, and +want of a license, and of proper preparations, and such like, my service +to you, my dear: and there is ceremony tantamount to your ceremony. + + + * Mr. Lovelace, in his next Letter, tells his friend how extremely ill +the Lady was, recovering from fits to fall into stronger fits, and +nobody expecting her life. She had not, he says, acquainted Miss Howe +how very ill she was.--In the next Letter, she tells Miss Howe, that her +motives for suspending were not merely ceremonious ones. + + +Do not, do not, my dear friend, again be so very melancholy a decliner +as to prefer a shroud, when the matter you wish for is in your power; +and when, as you have justly said heretofore, persons cannot die when +they will. + +But it is a strange perverseness in human nature that we slight that +when near us which at a distance we wish for. + +You have now but one point to pursue: that is marriage: let that be +solemnized. Leave the rest to Providence, and, to use your own words in +a former letter, follow as that leads. You will have a handsome man, +a genteel man; he would be a wise man, if he were not vain of his +endowments, and wild and intriguing: but while the eyes of many of our +sex, taken by so specious a form and so brilliant a spirit, encourage +that vanity, you must be contented to stay till grey hairs and prudence +enter upon the stage together. You would not have every thing in the +same man. + +I believe Mr. Hickman treads no crooked paths; but he hobbles most +ungracefully in a straight one. Yet Mr. Hickman, though he pleases not +my eye, nor diverts my ear, will not, as I believe, disgust the one, nor +shock the other. Your man, as I have lately said, will always keep up +attention; you will always be alive with him, though perhaps more from +fears than hopes: while Mr. Hickman will neither say any thing to keep +one awake, nor yet, by shocking adventures, make one's slumbers uneasy. + +I believe I now know which of the two men so prudent a person as you +would, at first, have chosen; nor doubt I that you can guess which I +would have made choice of, if I might. But proud as we are, the proudest +of us all can only refuse, and many of us accept the but half-worthy, +for fear a still worse should offer. + +If men had chosen their mistresses for spirits like their own, although +Mr. Lovelace, at the long run, may have been too many for me, I don't +doubt but I should have given heart-ach for heart-ach, for one half-year +at least; while you, with my dull-swift, would have glided on as +serenely, as calmly, as unaccountably, as the succeeding seasons; +and varying no otherwise than they, to bring on new beauties and +conveniencies to all about you. + + +***** + + +I was going on in this style--but my mother broke in upon me with a +prohibitory aspect. 'She gave me leave for one letter only.'--She +had just parted with your odious uncle, and they have been in close +conference again. + +She has vexed me. I must lay this by till I hear from you again, not +knowing whither to send it. + +Direct me to a third place, as I desired in my former. + +I told my mother (on her challenging me) that I was writing indeed, and +to you: but it was only to amuse myself; for I protested that I knew not +where to send to you. + +I hope that your next may inform me of your nuptials, although the next +to that were to acquaint me that he was the most ungratefullest monster +on earth; as he must be, if not the kindest husband in it. + +My mother has vexed me. But so, on revising, I wrote before.--But she +has unhinged me, as you call it: pretended to catechise Hickman, I +assure you, for contributing to our supposed correspondence. Catechised +him severely too, upon my word!--I believe I have a sneaking kindness +for the sneaking fellow, for I cannot endure that any body should treat +him like a fool but myself. + +I believe, between you and me, the good lady forgot herself. I heard her +loud. She possibly imagined that my father was come to life again. Yet +the meekness of the man might have soon convinced her, I should have +thought; for my father, it seems, would talk as loud as she, I suppose, +(though within a few yards of each other,) as if both were out of their +way, and were hallooing at half a mile's distance, to get in again. + +I know you'll blame me for this sauciness--but I told you I was vexed; +and if I had not a spirit, my parentage on both sides might be doubted. + +You must not chide me too severely, however, because I have learned of +you not to defend myself in an error: and I own I am wrong: and that's +enough: you won't be so generous in this case as you are in every other, +if you don't think it is. + +Adieu, my dear! I must, I will love you, and love you for ever! So +subscribes your + +ANNA HOWE. + + + + +LETTER LIX + +FROM MISS HOWE [ENCLOSED IN THE ABOVE.] THURSDAY, APRIL 27. + + +I have been making inquiry, as I told you I would, whether your +relations had really (before you left them) resolved upon that change of +measures which your aunt mentions in her letter; and by laying together +several pieces of intelligence, some drawn from my mother, through your +uncle Antony's communications; some from Miss Lloyd, by your sister's; +and some by a third way that I shall not tell you of; I have reason to +think the following a true state of the case. + +'That there was no intention of a change of measures till within two or +three days of your going away. On the contrary, your brother and sister, +though they had no hope of prevailing with you in Solmes's favour, were +resolved never to give over their persecutions till they had pushed you +upon taking some step, which, by help of their good offices, should be +deemed inexcusable by the half-witted souls they had to play upon. + +'But that, at last, your mother (tired with, and, perhaps, ashamed of +the passive part she had acted) thought fit to declare to Miss Bell, +that she was determined to try to put an end to the family feuds, and to +get your uncle Harlowe to second her endeavours. + +'This alarmed your brother and sister, and then a change of measures +was resolved upon. Solmes's offers were, however, too advantageous to +be given up; and your father's condescension was now to be their sole +dependence, and (as they give it out) the trying of what that would do +with you, their last effort.' + +And indeed, my dear, this must have succeeded, I verily think, with such +a daughter as they had to deal with, could that father, who never, I +dare say, kneeled in his life but to his God, have so far condescended +as your aunt writes he would. + +But then, my dear, what would this have done?--Perhaps you would +have given Lovelace this meeting, in hopes to pacify him, and prevent +mischief; supposing that they had given you time, and not hurried you +directly into the state. But if you had not met him, you see that he was +resolved to visit them, and well attended too: and what must have been +the consequence? + +So that, upon the whole, we know not but matters may be best as they +are, however disagreeable that best is. + +I hope your considerate and thoughtful mind will make a good use of +this hint. Who would not with patience sustain even a great evil, if she +could persuade herself that it was kindly dispensed, in order to prevent +a still greater?--Especially, if she could sit down, as you can, and +acquit her own heart? + +Permit me one further observation--Do we not see, from the above state +of the matter, what might have been done before by the worthy person +of your family, had she exerted the mother, in behalf of a child so +meritorious, yet so much oppressed? + +Adieu, my dear. I will be ever yours. ANNA HOWE. + + +***** + + +[Clarissa, in her answer to the first of the two last letters, chides +her friend for giving so little weight to her advice, in relation to her + behaviour to her mother. It may be proper to insert here the + following extracts from that answer, though a little before the time.] + +You assume, my dear, says she, your usual and ever-agreeable style in +what you write of the two gentlemen,* and how unaptly you think they +have chosen; Mr. Hickman in addressing you, Mr. Lovelace me. But I am +inclinable to believe that, with a view to happiness, however two mild +tempers might agree, two high ones would make sad work of it, both at +one time violent and unyielding. You two might, indeed, have raqueted +the ball betwixt you, as you say.** But Mr. Hickman, by his gentle +manners, seems formed for you, if you go not too far with him. If you +do, it would be a tameness in him to bear it, which would make a man +more contemptible than Mr. Hickman can ever deserve to be made. Nor is +it a disgrace for even a brave man, who knows what a woman is to vow to +him afterwards, to be very obsequious beforehand. + + + * See Letter XXXV. and Letter XXXVI. of this volume. +** See Letter XXXVI. of this volume. + + +Do you think it is to the credit of Mr. Lovelace's character that he +can be offensive and violent?--Does he not, as all such spirits must, +subject himself to the necessity of making submissions for his excesses +far more mortifying to a proud heart than those condescensions which the +high-spirited are so apt to impute as a weakness of mind in such a man +as Mr. Hickman? + +Let me tell you, my dear, that Mr. Hickman is such a one as would rather +bear an affront from a lady, than offer one to her. He had rather, I +dare say, that she should have occasion to ask his pardon than he her's. +But my dear, you have outlived your first passion; and had the second +man been an angel, he would not have been more than indifferent to you. + +My motives for suspending, proceeds she, were not merely ceremonious +ones. I was really very ill. I could not hold up my head. The contents +of my sister's letters had pierced my heart. Indeed, my dear, I was very +ill. And was I, moreover, to be as ready to accept his offer as if I +were afraid he never would repeat it? + +I see with great regret that your mamma is still immovably bent against +our correspondence. What shall I do about it?--It goes against me to +continue it, or to wish you to favour me with returns.--Yet I have so +managed my matters that I have no friend but you to advise with. It is +enough to make one indeed wish to be married to this man, though a man +of errors, as he has worthy relations of my own sex; and I should have +some friends, I hope:--and having some, I might have more--for as +money is said to increase money, so does the countenance of persons of +character increase friends: while the destitute must be destitute.--It +goes against my heart to beg of you to discontinue corresponding with +me; and yet it is against my conscience to carry it on against parental +prohibition. But I dare not use all the arguments against it that I +could use--And why?--For fear I should convince you; and you should +reject me as the rest of my friends have done. I leave therefore the +determination of this point upon you.--I am not, I find, to be trusted +with it. But be mine all the fault, and all the punishment, if it be +punishable!--And certainly it must, when it can be the cause of the +letter I have before me, and which I must no farther animadvert upon, +because you forbid me to do so. + + +[To the second letter, among other things, she says,] + +So, my dear, you seem to think that there was a fate in my error. The +cordial, the considerate friendship is seen in the observation you make +on this occasion. Yet since things have happened as they have, would +to Heaven I could hear that all the world acquitted my father, or, at +least, my mother! whose character, before these family feuds broke out, +was the subject of everyone's admiration. Don't let any body say from +you, so that it may come to her ear, that she might, from a timely +exertion of her fine talents, have saved her unhappy child. You will +observe, my dear, that in her own good time, when she saw there was not +likely to be an end to my brother's persecutions, she resolved to +exert herself. But the pragmatical daughter, by the fatal meeting, +precipitated all, and frustrated her indulgent designs. O my love, I am +now convinced, by dear experience, that while children are so happy +as to have parents or guardians whom they may consult, they should not +presume (no, not with the best and purest intentions) to follow their +own conceits in material cases. + +A ray of hope of future reconciliation darts in upon my mind, from the +intention you tell me my mother had to exert herself in my favour, had I +not gone away. And my hope is the stronger, as this communication points +out to me that my uncle Harlowe's interest is likely, in my mother's +opinion, to be of weight, if it could be engaged. It will behove me, +perhaps, to apply to that dear uncle, if a proper occasion offer. + + + + +LETTER LX + +MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. MONDAY, APRIL 24. + + +Fate is weaving a whimsical web for thy friend; and I see not but I +shall be inevitably manacled. + +Here have I been at work, dig, dig, dig, like a cunning miner, at one +time, and spreading my snares, like an artful fowler, at another, and +exulting in my contrivances to get this inimitable creature, absolutely +into my power. Every thing made for me. Her brother and uncles were but +my pioneers: her father stormed as I directed him to storm: Mrs. Howe +was acted by the springs I set at work; her daughter was moving for me, +yet imagined herself plumb against me: and the dear creature herself +had already run her stubborn neck into my gin, and knew not that she was +caught, for I had not drawn my springs close about her--And just as +all this was completed, wouldst thou believe, that I should be my own +enemy, and her friend? That I should be so totally diverted from all my +favourite purposes, as to propose to marry her before I went to town, in +order to put it out of my own power to resume them. + +When thou knowest this, wilt thou not think that my black angel plays me +booty, and has taken it into his head to urge me on to the indissoluble +tie, that he might be more sure of me (from the complex transgressions +to which he will certainly stimulate me, when wedded) than perhaps +he thought he could be from the simple sins, in which I have so long +allowed myself, that they seem to have the plea of habit? + +Thou wilt be still the more surprised, when I tell thee, that there +seems to be a coalition going forward between the black angels and the +white ones; for here has her's induced her, in one hour, and by one +retrograde accident, to acknowledge what the charming creature never +before acknowledged, a preferable favour for me. She even avows an +intention to be mine.--Mine! without reformation-conditions!--She +permits me to talk of love to her!--of the irrevocable ceremony!--Yet, +another extraordinary! postpones that ceremony; chooses to set out for +London; and even to go to the widow's in town. + +Well, but how comes all this about? methinks thou askest.--Thou, +Lovelace, dealest in wonders, yet aimest not at the marvellous!--How did +all this come about? + +I will tell thee--I was in danger of losing my charmer for ever! She was +soaring upward to her native skies! She was got above earth, by means +too, of the earth-born! And something extraordinary was to be done to +keep her with us sublunaries. And what so effectually as the soothing +voice of Love, and the attracting offer of matrimony from a man +not hated, can fix the attention of the maiden heart, aching with +uncertainty, and before impatient of the questionable question? + +This, in short, was the case: while she was refusing all manner of +obligation to me, keeping me at haughty distance, in hopes that her +cousin Morden's arrival would soon fix her in a full and absolute +independence of me--disgusted, likewise, at her adorer, for holding +himself the reins of his own passions, instead of giving them up to her +controul--she writes a letter, urging an answer to a letter before sent, +for her apparel, her jewels, and some gold, which she had left behind +her; all which was to save her pride from obligation, and to promote the +independence her heart was set upon. And what followed but a shocking +answer, made still more shocking by the communication of a father's +curse, upon a daughter deserving only blessings?--A curse upon the +curser's heart, and a double one upon the transmitter's, the spiteful +the envious Arabella! + +Absent when it came--on my return I found her recovering from fits, +again to fall into stronger fits; and nobody expecting her life; half a +dozen messengers dispatched to find me out. Nor wonder at her being so +affected; she, whose filial piety gave her dreadful faith in a father's +curses; and the curse of this gloomy tyrant extending (to use her own +words, when she could speak) to both worlds--O that it had turned, in +the moment of its utterance, to a mortal quinsy, and, sticking in his +gullet, had choked the old execrator, as a warning to all such unnatural +fathers! + +What a miscreant had I been, not to have endeavoured to bring her back, +by all the endearments, by all the vows, by all the offers, that I could +make her! + +I did bring her back. More than a father to her: for I have given her a +life her unnatural father had well-nigh taken away: Shall I not cherish +the fruits of my own benefaction? I was earnest in my vows to marry, +and my ardour to urge the present time was a real ardour. But extreme +dejection, with a mingled delicacy, that in her dying moments I doubt +not she will preserve, have caused her to refuse me the time, though not +the solemnity; for she has told me, that now she must be wholly in my +protection [being destitute of every other!] More indebted, still, thy +friend, as thou seest, to her cruel relations, than to herself, for her +favour! + +She has written to Miss Howe an account of their barbarity! but has not +acquainted her how very ill she was. + +Low, very low, she remains; yet, dreading her stupid brother's +enterprise, she wants to be in London, where, but for this accident, and +(wouldst thou have believed it?) for my persuasions, seeing her so very +ill, she would have been this night; and we shall actually set out on +Wednesday morning, if she be not worse. + +And now for a few words with thee, on the heavy preachment of Saturday +last. + +Thou art apprehensive, that the lady is now truly in danger; and it is a +miracle, thou tellest me, if she withstand such an attempter!--'Knowing +what we know of the sex, thou sayest, thou shouldst dread, wert thou +me, to make further trial, lest thou shouldst succeed.' And, in another +place, tellest me, 'That thou pleadest not for the state for any favour +thou hast for it.' + +What an advocate art thou for matrimony--! + +Thou wert ever an unhappy fellow at argument. Does the trite stuff with +which the rest of thy letter abounds, in favour of wedlock, strike with +the force that this which I have transcribed does against it? + +Thou takest great pains to convince me, and that from the distresses +the lady is reduced to (chiefly by her friend's persecutions and +implacableness, I hope thou wilt own, and not from me, as yet) that the +proposed trial will not be a fair trial. But let me ask thee, Is not +calamity the test of virtue? And wouldst thou not have me value this +charming creature upon proof of her merits?--Do I not intend to reward +her by marriage, if she stand that proof? + +But why repeat I what I have said before?--Turn back, thou egregious +arguer, turn back to my long letter of the 13th,* and thou wilt there +find every syllable of what thou hast written either answered or +invalidated. + + + * See Letter XVIII. of this volume. + + +But I am not angry with thee, Jack. I love opposition. As gold is tried +by fire, and virtue by temptation, so is sterling wit by opposition. +Have I not, before thou settest out as an advocate for my fair-one, +often brought thee in, as making objections to my proceedings, for no +other reason than to exalt myself by proving thee a man of straw? As +Homer raises up many of his champions, and gives them terrible names, +only to have them knocked on the head by his heroes. + +However, take to thee this one piece of advice--Evermore be sure of +being in the right, when thou presumest to sit down to correct thy +master. + +And another, if thou wilt--Never offer to invalidate the force which +a virtuous education ought to have in the sex, by endeavouring to find +excuses for their frailty from the frailty of ours. For, are we not +devils to each other?--They tempt us--we tempt them. Because we men +cannot resist temptation, is that a reason that women ought not, +when the whole of their education is caution and warning against our +attempts? Do not their grandmothers give them one easy rule--Men are to +ask--Women are to deny? + +Well, but to return to my principal subject; let me observe, that, be my +future resolutions what they will, as to this lady, the contents of the +violent letter she has received have set me at least a month forward +with her. I can now, as I hinted, talk of love and marriage, without +controul or restriction; her injunctions no more my terror. + +In this sweetly familiar way shall we set out together for London. +Mrs. Sorlings's eldest daughter, at my motion, is to attend her in the +chaise, while I ride by way of escort: for she is extremely apprehensive +of the Singleton plot; and has engaged me to be all patience, if any +thing should happen on the road. But nothing I am sure will happen: +for, by a letter received just now from Joseph, I understand, that +James Harlowe has already laid aside his stupid project: and this by the +earnest desire of all those of his friends to whom he had communicated +it; who were afraid of the consequences that might attend it. But it is +not over with me, however; although I am not determined at present as to +the uses I may make of it. + +My beloved tells me, she shall have her clothes sent her. She hopes also +her jewels, and some gold, which she left behind her: but Joseph says, +clothes only will be sent. I will not, however, tell her that: on the +contrary, I say, there is no doubt but they will send all she wrote +for. The greater her disappointment from them, the greater must be her +dependence on me. + +But, after all, I hope I shall be enabled to be honest to a merit so +transcendent. The devil take thee, though, for thy opinion, given so +mal-a-propos, that she may be overcome. + +If thou designest to be honest, methinkst thou sayest, Why should not +Singleton's plot be over with thee, as it is with her brother? + +Because (if I must answer thee) where people are so modestly doubtful of +what they are able to do, it is good to leave a loop-hole. And, let me +add, that when a man's heart is set upon a point, and any thing occurs +to beat him off, he will find it very difficult, when the suspending +reason ceases, to forbear resuming it. + + + + +LETTER LXI + +MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. TUESDAY, APRIL 25. + + +All hands at work in preparation for London.--What makes my heart beat +so strong? Why rises it to my throat in such half-choking flutters, when +I think of what this removal may do for me? I am hitherto resolved to +be honest, and that increases my wonder at these involuntary commotions. +'Tis a plotting villain of a heart: it ever was--and ever will be, I +doubt. Such a joy when any roguery is going forward!--I so little its +master!--A head, likewise, so well turned to answer the triangular +varlet's impulses!--No matter--I will have one struggle with thee, old +friend; and if I cannot overcome thee now, I never will again attempt to +conquer thee. + +The dear creature continues extremely low and dejected. Tender blossom! +how unfit to contend with the rude and ruffling winds of passion, and +haughty and insolent control!--Never till now from under the wing (it is +not enough to say of indulging, but) of admiring parents; the mother's +bosom only fit to receive this charming flower! + +This was the reflection, that, with mingled compassion, and augmented +love, arose to my mind, when I beheld the charmer reposing her lovely +face upon the bosom of the widow Sorlings, from a recovered fit, as I +entered soon after she had received her execrable sister's letter. How +lovely in her tears!--And as I entered, her uplifted face significantly +bespeaking my protection, as I thought. And can I be a villain to such +an angel!--I hope not--But why, Belford, why, once more, puttest thou +me in mind, that she may be overcome? And why is her own reliance on my +honour so late and so reluctantly shown? + +But, after all, so low, so dejected, continues she to be, that I am +terribly afraid I shall have a vapourish wife, if I do marry. I should +then be doubly undone. Not that I shall be much at home with her, +perhaps, after the first fortnight, or so. But when a man has been +ranging, like the painful bee, from flower to flower, perhaps for a +month together, and the thoughts of home and a wife begin to have their +charms with him, to be received by a Niobe, who, like a wounded vine, +weeps her vitals away, while she but involuntary curls about him; how +shall I be able to bear that? + +May Heaven restore my charmer to health and spirits, I hourly pray--that +a man may see whether she can love any body but her father and mother! +In their power, I am confident, it will be, at any time, to make her +husband joyless; and that, as I hate them so heartily, is a shocking +thing to reflect upon.--Something more than woman, an angel, in some +things; but a baby in others: so father-sick! so family-fond!--What a +poor chance stands a husband with such a wife! unless, forsooth, they +vouchsafe to be reconciled to her, and continue reconciled! + +It is infinitely better for her and for me that we should not marry. +What a delightful manner of life [O that I could persuade her to +it!] would the life of honour be with such a woman! The fears, the +inquietudes, the uneasy days, the restless nights; all arising from +doubts of having disobliged me! Every absence dreaded to be an +absence for ever! And then how amply rewarded, and rewarding, by the +rapture-causing return! Such a passion as this keeps love in a continual +fervour--makes it all alive. The happy pair, instead of sitting dozing +and nodding at each other, in opposite chimney-corners, in a winter +evening, and over a wintry love, always new to each other, and having +always something to say. + +Thou knowest, in my verses to my Stella, my mind on this occasion. +I will lay those verses in her way, as if undesignedly, when we are +together at the widow's; that is to say, if we do not soon go to church +by consent. She will thence see what my notions are of wedlock. If she +receives them with any sort of temper, that will be a foundation--and +let me alone to build upon it. + +Many a girl has been carried, who never would have been attempted, had +she showed a proper resentment, when her ears, or her eyes were first +invaded. I have tried a young creature by a bad book, a light quotation, +or an indecent picture; and if she has borne that, or only blushed, and +not been angry; and more especially if she has leered and smiled; that +girl have I, and old Satan, put down for our own. O how I could warn +these little rogues, if I would! Perhaps envy, more than virtue, will +put me upon setting up beacons for them, when I grow old and joyless. + + +TUESDAY AFTERNOON. + +If you are in London when I get thither, you will see me soon. My +charmer is a little better than she was: her eyes show it; and her +harmonious voice, hardly audible last time I saw her, now begins to +cheer my heart once more. But yet she has no love--no sensibility! +There is no addressing her with those meaning, yet innocent freedoms +(innocent, at first setting out, they may be called) which soften others +of her sex. The more strange this, as she now acknowledges preferable +favour for me; and is highly susceptible of grief. Grief mollifies, +and enervates. The grieved mind looks round it, silently implores +consolation, and loves the soother. Grief is ever an inmate with joy. +Though they won't show themselves at the same window at one time; yet +they have the whole house in common between them. + + + + +LETTER LXII + +MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. WEDN. APRIL 26. + + +At last my lucky star has directed us into the desired port, and we are +safely landed.--Well says Rowe:-- + + The wise and active conquer difficulties, + By daring to attempt them. Sloth and folly + Shiver and shrink at sight of toil and hazard, + And make th' impossibility they fear. + +But in the midst of my exultation, something, I know not what to call +it, checks my joys, and glooms over my brighter prospects: if it be not +conscience, it is wondrously like what I thought so, many, many years +ago. + +Surely, Lovelace, methinks thou sayest, thy good motions are not gone +off already! Surely thou wilt not now at last be a villain to this lady! + +I can't tell what to say to it. Why would not the dear creature accept +of me, when I so sincerely offered myself to her acceptance? Things +already appear with a very different face now I have got her here. +Already have our mother and her daughters been about me:--'Charming +lady! What a complexion! What eyes! What majesty in her person!--O +Mr. Lovelace, you are a happy man! You owe us such a lady!'--Then they +remind me of my revenge, and of my hatred to her whole family. + +Sally was so struck with her, at first sight, that she broke out to me +in these lines of Dryden:-- + + ----Fairer to be seen + Than the fair lily on the flow'ry green! + More fresh than May herself in blossoms new! + +I sent to thy lodgings within half an hour after our arrival, to receive +thy congratulation upon it, but thou wert at Edgeware, it seems. + +My beloved, who is charmingly amended, is retired to her constant +employment, writing. I must content myself with the same amusement, till +she shall be pleased to admit me to her presence: for already have I +given to every one her cue. + +And, among the rest, who dost thou think is to be her maid +servant?--Deb. Butler. + +Ah, Lovelace! + +And Ah, Belford!--It can't be otherwise. But what dost think Deb's name +is to be? Why, Dorcas, Dorcas Wykes. And won't it be admirable, if, +either through fear, fright, or good liking, we can get my beloved to +accept of Dorcas Wykes for a bed-fellow? + +In so many ways will it be now in my power to have the dear creature, +that I shall not know which of them to choose! + +But here comes the widow with Dorcas Wykes in her hand, and I am to +introduce them both to my fair-one? + + +***** + + +So, the honest girl is accepted--of good parentage--but, through a +neglected education, plaguy illiterate: she can neither write, nor +read writing. A kinswoman of Mrs. Sinclair--could not therefore well be +refused, the widow in person recommending her; and the wench only taken +till her Hannah can come. What an advantage has an imposing or forward +nature over a courteous one! So here may something arise to lead into +correspondencies, and so forth. To be sure a person need not be so wary, +so cautious of what she writes, or what she leaves upon her table, or +toilette, when her attendant cannot read. + +It would be a miracle, as thou sayest, if this lady can save +herself--And having gone so far, how can I recede? Then my revenge upon +the Harlowes!--To have run away with a daughter of theirs, to make her +a Lovelace--to make her one of a family so superior to her own--what a +triumph, as I have heretofore observed,* to them! But to run away +with her, and to bring her to my lure in the other light, what a +mortification of their pride! What a gratification of my own! + +Then these women are continually at me. These women, who, before my +whole soul and faculties were absorbed in the love of this single +charmer, used always to oblige me with the flower and first fruits of +their garden! Indeed, indeed, my goddess should not have chosen this +London widow's! But I dare say, if I had, she would not. People who will +be dealing in contradiction ought to pay for it. And to be punished by +the consequences of our own choice--what a moral lies there!--What a +deal of good may I not be the occasion of from a little evil! + +Dorcas is a neat creature, both in person and dress; her continuance not +vulgar. And I am in hopes, as I hinted above, that her lady will accept +of her for her bedfellow, in a strange house, for a week or so. But I +saw she had a dislike to her at her very first appearance; yet I thought +the girl behaved very modestly--over-did it a little perhaps. Her +ladyship shrunk back, and looked shy upon her. The doctrine of +sympathies and antipathies is a surprising doctrine. But Dorcas will be +excessively obliging, and win her lady's favour soon, I doubt not. I +am secure in one of the wench's qualities however--she is not to be +corrupted. A great point that! since a lady and her maid, when heartily +of one party, will be too hard for half a score devils. + +The dear creature was no less shy when the widow first accosted her at +her alighting. Yet I thought that honest Doleman's letter had prepared +her for her masculine appearance. + +And now I mention that letter, why dost thou not wish me joy, Jack? + +Joy, of what? + +Why, joy of my nuptials. Know then, that said, is done, with me, when I +have a mind to have it so; and that we are actually man and wife! only +that consummation has not passed: bound down to the contrary of that, +by a solemn vow, till a reconciliation with her family take place. The +women here are told so. They know it before my beloved knows it; and +that, thou wilt say, is odd. + +But how shall I do to make my fair-one keep her temper on the +intimation? Why, is she not here? At Mrs. Sinclair's?--But if she will +hear reason, I doubt not to convince her, that she ought to acquiesce. + +She will insist, I suppose, upon my leaving her, and that I shall not +take up my lodgings under the same roof. But circumstances are changed +since I first made her that promise. I have taken all the vacant +apartments; and must carry this point also. + +I hope in a while to get her with me to the public entertainments. She +knows nothing of the town, and has seen less of its diversions than +ever woman of her taste, her fortune, her endowments, did see. She has, +indeed, a natural politeness, which transcends all acquirement. The most +capable of any one I ever knew of judging what an hundred things are, by +seeing one of a like nature. Indeed she took so much pleasure in her +own chosen amusements, till persecuted out of them, that she had neither +leisure nor inclination for the town diversions. + +These diversions will amuse, and the deuce is in it, if a little +susceptibility will not put forth, now she receives my address; +especially if I can manage it so as to be allowed to live under one roof +with her. What though the sensibility be at first faint and reluctant, +like the appearance of an early spring-flower in frosty winter, which +seems afraid of being nipt by an easterly blast! That will be enough for +me. + +I hinted to thee in a former,* that I had provided books for the lady's +in-door amusement. Sally and Polly are readers. My beloved's light +closet was their library. And several pieces of devotion have been put +in, bought on purpose at second-hand. + + + * See Letter XXXIX. of this volume. + + +I was always for forming a judgment of the reading part of the sex by +their books. The observations I have made on this occasion have been of +great use to me, as well in England as out of it. The sagacious lady may +possibly be as curious in this point as her Lovelace. + +So much for the present. Thou seest that I have a great deal of business +before me; yet I will write again soon. + + +[Mr. Lovelace sends another letter with this; in which he takes notice +of young Miss Sorlings's setting out with them, and leaving them at + Barnet: but as its contents are nearly the same with those in the + Lady's next letter, it is omitted.] + +END OF VOL.3 + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 9881 *** |