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diff --git a/old/clar310.txt b/old/clar310.txt deleted file mode 100644 index fc3be3a..0000000 --- a/old/clar310.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,11896 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's Clarissa, Volume 3 (of 9), by Samuel Richardson -#5 in our series by Samuel Richardson - -Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the -copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing -this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. - -This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project -Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the -header without written permission. - -Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the -eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is -important information about your specific rights and restrictions in -how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a -donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. - - -**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** - -**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** - -*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** - - -Title: Clarissa, Volume 3 (of 9) - -Author: Samuel Richardson - -Release Date: February, 2006 [EBook #9881] -[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] -[This file was first posted on October 27, 2003] - -Edition: 10 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CLARISSA, VOLUME 3 (OF 9) *** - - - - -Produced by Julie C. Sparks. - - - - -The Writings Of Samuel Richardson V 7 Julie Sparks 07/10/03 ok - - -CLARISSA HARLOWE - -or the - -HISTORY OF A YOUNG LADY - -Nine Volumes -Volume III. - - - -CONTENTS 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. - -LETTR 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 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 be 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 fain, 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 -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 you 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 my 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 -challeneged 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 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 exults 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; ad 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. It is -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 seen 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 he 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 reins, 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 whoe 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 me, 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; -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, were 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 he - expresses 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 my 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 mentions 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 -penance (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 just, 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 accounted, 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, 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 me, 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 repent, 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 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 as 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 say 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 wises to be though 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 accept 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 exults 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, tat 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 imputer -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, (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 you 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 is 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 day, 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 if 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 confide 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 he 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 loved, 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 your. 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 thing 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 expostulary 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 hear 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 your 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 sprindges 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 Project Gutenberg's Clarissa, Volume 3 (of 9), by Samuel Richardson - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CLARISSA, VOLUME 3 (OF 9) *** - -This file should be named clar310.txt or clar310.zip -Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, clar311.txt -VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, clar310a.txt - -Produced by Julie C. 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