MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MRS. JUDITH NORTON
SAT. JULY 29.
I congratulate you, my dear Mrs. Norton, with all my heart, on your son's
recovery; which I pray to God, with all your own health, to perfect.
I write in some hurry, being apprehensive of the sequence of the hints
you give of some method you propose to try in my favour [with my
relations, I presume, you mean]: but you will not tell me what, you say,
if it prove unsuccessful.
Now I must beg of you that you will not take any step in my favour, with
which you do not first acquaint me.
I have but one request to make to them, besides what is contained in my
letter to my sister; and I would not, methinks, for the sake of their own
future peace of mind, that they should be teased so by your well-meant
kindness, and that of Miss Howe, as to be put upon denying me that. And
why should more be asked for me than I can partake of? More than is
absolutely necessary for my own peace?
You suppose I should have my sister's answer to my letter by the time
your's reached my hand. I have it: and a severe one, a very severe one,
it is. Yet, considering my fault in their eyes, and the provocations I
am to suppose they so newly had from my dear Miss Howe, I am to look upon
it as a favour that it was answered at all. I will send you a copy of it
soon; as also of mine, to which it is an answer.
I have reason to be very thankful that my father has withdrawn that heavy
malediction, which affected me so much--A parent's curse, my dear Mrs.
Norton! What child could die in peace under a parent's curse? so
literally fulfilled too as this has been in what relates to this life!
My heart is too full to touch upon the particulars of my sister's letter.
I can make but one atonement for my fault. May that be accepted! And
may it soon be forgotten, by every dear relation, that there was such an
unhappy daughter, sister, or niece, as Clarissa Harlowe!
My cousin Morden was one of those who was so earnest in prayer for my
recovery, at nine and eleven years of age, as you mention. My sister
thinks he will be one of those who wish I never had had a being. But
pray, when he does come, let me hear of it with the first.
You think that, were it not for that unhappy notion of my moving talent,
my mother would relent. What would I give to see her once more, and,
although unknown to her, to kiss but the hem of her garment!
Could I have thought that the last time I saw her would have been the
last, with what difficulty should I have been torn from her embraced
feet!--And when, screened behind the yew-hedge on the 5th of April last,*
I saw my father, and my uncle Antony, and my brother and sister, how
little did I think that that would be the last time I should ever see
them; and, in so short a space, that so many dreadful evils would befal
me!
* See Vol. II. Letter XXXVI.
But I can write nothing but what must give you trouble. I will
therefore, after repeating my desire that you will not intercede for me
but with my previous consent, conclude with the assurance, that I am, and
ever will be,
Your most affectionate and dutiful
CLARISSA HARLOWE.