MISS HOWE, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE
THURSDAY, AUGUST 31.
The Colonel thought fit once, in praise of Lovelace's generosity, to say,
that (as a man of honour ought) he took to himself all the blame, and
acquitted you of the consequences of the precipitate step you had taken;
since he said, as you loved him, and was in his power, he must have had
advantages which he would not have had, if you had continued at your
father's, or at any friend's.
Mighty generous, I said, (were it as he supposed,) in such insolent
reflectors, the best of them; who pretend to clear reputations which
never had been sullied but by falling into their dirty acquaintance! but
in this case, I averred, that there was no need of any thing but the
strictest truth, to demonstrate Lovelace to be the blackest of villains,
you the brightest of innocents.
This he catched at; and swore, that if any thing uncommon or barbarous in
the seduction were to come out, as indeed one of the letters you had
written to your friends, and which had been shown him, very strongly
implied; that is to say, my dear, if any thing worse than perjury, breach
of faith, and abuse of a generous confidence, were to appear! [sorry
fellows!] he would avenge his cousin to the utmost.
I urged your apprehensions on this head from your last letter to me: but
he seemed capable of taking what I know to be real greatness of soul, in
an unworthy sense: for he mentioned directly upon it the expectations
your friends had, that you should (previous to any reconciliation with
them) appear in a court of justice against the villain--IF you could do
it with the advantage to yourself that I hinted might be done.
And truly, if I would have heard him, he had indelicacy enough to have
gone into the nature of the proof of the crime upon which they wanted to
have Lovelace arraigned. Yet this is a man improved by travel and
learning!--Upon my word, my dear, I, who have been accustomed to the most
delicate conversation ever since I had the honour to know you, despise
this sex from the gentleman down to the peasant.
Upon the whole, I find that Mr. Morden has a very slender notion of
women's virtue in particular cases: for which reason I put him down,
though your favourite, as one who is not entitled to cast the first
stone.
I never knew a man who deserved to be well thought of himself for his
morals, who had a slight opinion of the virtue of our sex in general.
For if, from the difference of temperament and education, modesty,
chastity, and piety too, are not to be found in our sex preferably to
the other, I should think it a sign of much worse nature in ours.
He even hinted (as from your relations indeed) that it is impossible
but there most be some will where there is much love.
These sort of reflections are enough to make a woman, who has at heart
her own honour and the honour of her sex, to look about her, and consider
what she is doing when she enters into an intimacy with these wretches;
since it is plain, that whenever she throws herself into the power of a
man, and leaves for him her parents or guardians, every body will believe
it to be owing more to her good luck than to her discretion if there be
not an end of her virtue: and let the man be ever such a villain to her,
she must take into her own bosom a share of his guilty baseness.
I am writing to general cases. You, my dear, are out of the question.
Your story, as I have heretofore said, will afford a warning as well as
an example:* For who is it that will not infer, that if a person of your
fortune, character, and merit, could not escape ruin, after she had put
herself into the power of her hyæna, what can a thoughtless, fond, giddy
creature expect?
* See Vol. IV. Letter XXIII.
Every man, they will say, is not a LOVELACE--True: but then, neither is
every woman a CLARISSA. And allow for the one and for the other the
example must be of general use.
I prepared Mr. Morden to expect your appointment of Mr. Belford for an
office that we both hope he will have no occasion to act in (nor any body
else) for many, very many years to come. He was at first startled at it:
but, upon hearing such of your reasons as had satisfied me, he only said
that such an appointment, were it to take place, would exceedingly affect
his other cousins.
He told me, he had a copy of Lovelace's letter to you, imploring your
pardon, and offering to undergo any penance to procure it;* and also of
your answer to it.**
* See Vol. VII. Letter LXXIX.
** Ibid. Letter LXXXIII.
I find he is willing to hope that a marriage between you may still take
place; which, he says, will heal up all breaches.
I would have written much more--on the following particulars especially;
to wit, of the wretched man's hunting you out of your lodgings: of your
relations' strange implacableness, [I am in haste, and cannot think of a
word you would like better just now:] of your last letter to Lovelace, to
divert him from pursuing you: of your aunt Hervey's penitential
conversation with Mrs. Norton: of Mr. Wyerley's renewed address: of your
lessons to me in Hickman's behalf, so approvable, were the man more so
than he is; but indeed I am offended with him at this instant, and have
been for these two days: of your sister's transportation-project: and of
twenty and twenty other things: but am obliged to leave off, to attend my
two cousins Spilsworth, and my cousin Herbert, who are come to visit us
on account of my mother's illness--I will therefore dispatch these by
Rogers; and if my mother gets well soon (as I hope she will) I am
resolved to see you in town, and tell you every thing that now is upon my
mind; and particularly, mingling my soul with your's, how much I am, and
will ever be, my dearest, dear friend,
Your affectionate
ANNA HOWE.
Let Rogers bring one line, I pray you. I thought to have sent him this
afternoon; but he cannot set out till to-morrow morning early.
I cannot express how much your staggering lines and your conclusion
affect me!