What remains to be mentioned for the satisfaction of such of the readers
as may be presumed to have interested themselves in the fortunes of those
other principals in the story, who survived Mr. Lovelace, will be found
summarily related as follows:
The news of Mr. LOVELACE's unhappy end was received with as much grief by
his own relations, as it was with exultation by the Harlowe family, and
by Miss Howe. His own family were most to be pitied, because, being
sincere admirers of the inimitable lady, they were greatly grieved for
the injustice done her; and now had the additional mortification of
losing the only male of it, by a violent death.
That his fate was deserved, was still a heightening of their calamity, as
they had, for that very reason, and his unpreparedness for it, but too
much ground for apprehension with regard to his future happiness. While
the other family, from their unforgiving spirit, and even the noble young
lady above mentioned, from her lively resentments, found his death some
little, some temporary, alleviation of the heavy loss they had sustained,
principally through his means.
Temporary alleviation, we repeat, as to the Harlowe family; for THEY were
far from being happy or easy in their reflections upon their own conduct.
--And still the less, as the inconsolable mother rested not till she had
procured, by means of Colonel Morden, large extracts from some of the
letters that compose this history, which convinced them all that the very
correspondence which Clarissa, while with them, renewed with Mr.
Lovelace, was renewed for their sakes, more than for her own: that she
had given him no encouragement contrary to her duty and to that prudence
for which she was so early noted: that had they trusted to a discretion
which they owned she had never brought into question, she would have
extricated them and herself (as she once proposed* to her mother) from
all difficulties as to Lovelace: that she, if any woman ever could, would
have given a glorious instance of a passion conquered, or at least kept
under by reason and by piety; the man being too immoral to be implicitly
beloved.
* See Vol. I. Letter XVII.
The unhappy parents and uncles, from the perusal of these extracts, too
evidently for their peace, saw that it was entirely owing to the avarice,
the ambition, the envy, of her implacable brother and sister, and to the
senseless confederacy entered into by the whole family, to compel her to
give her hand to a man she must despise, or she had not been a CLARISSA,
and to their consequent persecution of her, that she ever thought of
quitting her father's house: and that even when she first entertained
such a thought, it was with intent, if possible, to procure for herself a
private asylum with Mrs. Howe, or at some other place of safety, (but not
with Mr. Lovelace, nor with any of the ladies of his family, though
invited by the latter,) from whence she might propose terms which ought
to have been complied with, and which were entirely consistent with her
duty--that though she found herself disappointed of the hoped-for refuge
and protection, she intended not, by meeting Mr. Lovelace, to put herself
into his power; all that she aimed at by taking that step being to
endeavour to pacify so fierce a spirit, lest he should (as he indeed was
determined to do) pay a visit to her friends, which might have been
attended with fatal consequences; but was spirited away by him in such a
manner, as made her an object of pity rather than of blame.
These extracts further convinced them all that it was to her unaffected
regret that she found that marriage was not in her power afterwards for a
long time; and at last, but on one occasion, when their unnatural cruelty
to her (on a new application she had made to her aunt Hervey, to procure
mercy and pardon) rendered her incapable of receiving his proffered hand;
and so obliged her to suspend the day: intending only to suspend it till
recovered.
They saw with equal abhorrence of Lovelace, and of their own cruelty, and
with the highest admiration of her, that the majesty of her virtue had
awed the most daring spirit in the world, so that he durst not attempt to
carry his base designs into execution, till, by wicked potions, he had
made her senses the previous sacrifice.
But how did they in a manner adore her memory! How did they recriminate
upon each other! when they found, that she had not only preserved herself
from repeated outrage, by the most glorious and intrepid behaviour, in
defiance, and to the utter confusion of all his libertine notions, but
had the fortitude, constantly, and with a noble disdain, to reject him.--
Whom?--Why, the man she once could have loved, kneeling for pardon, and
begging to be permitted to make her the best reparation then in his power
to make her; that is to say, by marriage. His fortunes high and
unbroken. She his prisoner at the time in a vile house: rejected by all
her friends; upon repeated application to them, for mercy and
forgiveness, rejected--mercy and forgiveness, and a last blessing,
afterwards imploring; and that as much to lighten their future remorses,
as for the comfort of her own pious heart--yet, though savagely refused,
on a supposition that she was not so near her end as she was represented
departed, forgiving and blessing them all!
Then they recollected that her posthumous letters, instead of reproaches,
were filled with comfortings: that she had in her last will, in their own
way, laid obligations upon them all; obligations which they neither
deserved nor expected; as if she thought to repair the injustice which
self-partiality made some of them conclude done to them by her
grandfather in his will.
These intelligences and recollections were perpetual subjects of
recrimination to them: heightened their anguish for the loss of a child
who was the glory of their family; and not seldom made them shun each
other, (at the times they were accustomed to meet together,) that they
might avoid the mutual reproaches of eyes that spoke, when tongues were
silent--their stings also sharpened by time! What an unhappy family was
this! Well might Colonel Morden, in the words of Juvenal, challenge all
other miserable families to produce such a growing distress as that of
the Harlowes (a few months before so happy!) was able to produce.
Humani generis mores tibi nôsse volenti
Sufficit una domus: paucos consume dies, &
Dicere te miserum, postquam illinc veneris, aude.
Mrs. HARLOWE lived about two years and an half after the lamented death
of her CLARISSA.
Mr. HARLOWE had the additional affliction to survive his lady about half
a year; her death, by new pointing his former anguish and remorse,
hastening his own.
Both, in their last hours, however, comforted themselves, that they
should be restored to their BLESSED daughter, as they always (from the
time they were acquainted with the above particulars of her story, and
with her happy exit) called her.
They both lived, however, to see their son James, and their daughter
Arabella, married: but not to take joy in either of their nuptials.
Mr. JAMES HARLOWE married a woman of family, an orphan; and is obliged,
at a very great expense, to support his claim to estates, which were his
principal inducement to make his addresses to her; but which, to this
day, he has not recovered; nor is likely to recover; having powerful
adversaries to contend with, and a title to assert, which admits of
litigation; and he not blessed with so much patience as is necessary to
persons embarrassed in law.
What is further observable, with regard to him, is, that the match was
entirely of his own head, against the advice of his father, mother, and
uncles, who warned him of marrying in this lady a law-suit for life. His
ungenerous behaviour to his wife, for what she cannot help, and for what
is as much her misfortune as his, has occasioned such estrangements
between them (she being a woman of spirit) as, were the law-suits
determined, even more favourably than probably they will be, must make
him unhappy to the end of his life. He attributes all his misfortunes,
when he opens himself to the few friends he has, to his vile and cruel
treatment of his angelic sister. He confesses these misfortunes to be
just, without having temper to acquiesce in the acknowledged justice.
One month in every year he puts on mourning, and that month commences
with him on the 7th of September, during which he shuts himself up from
all company. Finally, he is looked upon, and often calls himself,