You will wonder to receive a letter from me. I am sorry for the great
distress you seem to be in. Such a hopeful young lady as you were! But
see what comes of disobedience to parents!
For my part; although I pity you, yet I much more pity your poor father
and mother. Such education as they gave you! such improvement as you
made! and such delight as they took in you!—And all come to this!—
But pray, Miss, don’t make my Nancy guilt of your fault; which is that
of disobedience. I have charged her over and over not to correspond
with one who had made such a giddy step. It is not to her reputation, I
am sure. You know that I so charged her; yet you go on corresponding
together, to my very great vexation; for she has been very perverse
upon it more than once. Evil communication, Miss—you know the rest.
Here, people cannot be unhappy by themselves, but they must invoke
their friends and acquaintance whose discretion has kept them clear of
their errors, into near as much unhappiness as if they had run into the
like of their own heads! Thus my poor daughter is always in tears and
grief. And she has postponed her own felicity, truly, because you are
unhappy.
If people, who seek their own ruin, could be the only sufferers by
their headstrong doings, it were something: But, O Miss, Miss! what
have you to answer for, who have made as many grieved hearts as have
known you! The whole sex is indeed wounded by you: For, who but Miss
Clarissa Harlowe was proposed by every father and mother for a pattern
for their daughters?
I write a long letter, where I proposed to say but a few words; and
those to forbid your writing to my Nancy: and this as well because of
the false step you have made, as because it will grieve her poor heart,
and do you no good. If you love her, therefore, write not to her. Your
sad letter came into my hands, Nancy being abroad: and I shall not show
it her: for there would be no comfort for her, if she saw it, nor for
me, whose delight she is—as you once was to your parents.—
But you seem to be sensible enough of your errors now.—So are all giddy
girls, when it is too late: and what a crest-fallen figure then do the
consequences of their self-willed obstinacy and headstrongness compel
them to make!
I may say too much: only as I think it proper to bear that testimony
against your rashness which it behoves every careful parent to bear:
and none more than
Your compassionating, well-wishing ANNABELLA HOWE.
I send this by a special messenger, who has business only so far as
Barnet, because you shall have no need to write again; knowing how you
love writing: and knowing, likewise, that misfortune makes people
plaintive.