I am under no 'small concern,' that I should (unhappily) be the
'occasion' (I am sure I 'intended' nothing like it) of 'widening
differences' by 'light misreport,' when it is the 'duty' of one of 'my
function' (and no less consisting with my 'inclination') to 'heal' and
'reconcile.'
I have received two letter to set me 'right': one from a 'particular
acquaintance,' (whom I set to inquire of Mr. Belford's character); and
that came on Tuesday last, informing me, that your 'unhappy niece' was
greatly injured in the account I had had of her; (for I had told 'him'
of it, and that with very 'great concern,' I am sure, apprehending it to
be 'true.') So I 'then' set about writing to you, to 'acknowledge' the
'error.' And had gone a good way in it, when the second letter came (a
very 'handsome one' it is, both in 'style' and 'penmanship') from my
friend Mr. Walton, (though I am sure it cannot be 'his inditing,')
expressing his sorrow, and his wife's, and his sister-in-law's likewise,
for having been the cause of 'misleading me,' in the account I gave of
the said 'young lady'; whom they 'now' say (upon 'further inquiry') they
find to be the 'most unblameable,' and 'most prudent,' and (it seems) the
most 'pious' young lady, that ever (once) committed a 'great error'; as
(to be sure) 'her's was,' in leaving such 'worthy parents' and
'relations' for so 'vile a man' as Mr. Lovelace; but what shall we say?--
Why, the divine Virgil tells us,
'Improbe amor, quid non mortalia pectora cogis?'
For 'my part,' I was but too much afraid (for we have 'great
opportunities,' you are sensible, Sir, at the 'University,' of knowing
'human nature' from 'books,' the 'calm result' of the 'wise man's
wisdom,' as I may say,
'(Haurit aquam cribro, qui discere vult sine libro)'
'uninterrupted' by the 'noise' and 'vanities' that will mingle with
'personal conversation,' which (in the 'turbulent world') is not to be
enjoyed but over a 'bottle,' where you have an 'hundred foolish things'
pass to 'one that deserveth to be remembered'; I was but too much afraid
'I say') that so 'great a slip' might be attended with 'still greater'
and 'worse': for 'your' Horace, and 'my' Horace, the most charming writer
that ever lived among the 'Pagans' (for the 'lyric kind of poetry,' I
mean; for, the be sure, 'Homer' and 'Virgil' would 'otherwise' be 'first'
named 'in their way') well observeth (and who understood 'human nature'
better than he?)
'Nec vera virtus, cum semel excidit,
Curat reponi deterioribus.'
And 'Ovid' no less wisely observeth:
'Et mala sunt vicina bonis. Errore sub illo
Pro vitio virtus crimina sæpe tulit.'
Who, that can draw 'knowledge' from its 'fountain-head,' the works of the
'sages of antiquity,' (improved by the 'comments' of the 'moderns,') but
would 'prefer' to all others the 'silent quiet life,' which
'contemplative men' lead in the 'seats of learning,' were they not called
out (according to their 'dedication') to the 'service' and 'instruction'
of the world?
Now, Sir, 'another' favourite poet of mine (and not the 'less a
favourite' for being a 'Christian') telleth us, that ill is the custom of
'some,' when in a 'fault,' to throw the blame upon the backs of 'others,'
'----Hominum quoque mos est,
Quæ nos cunque premunt, alieno imponere tergo.'
MANT.
But I, though (in this case) 'misled,' ('well intendedly,' nevertheless,
both in the 'misleaders' and 'misled,' and therefore entitled to lay hold
of that plea, if 'any body' is so entitled,) will not however, be classed
among such 'extenuators'; but (contrarily) will always keep in mind that
verse, which 'comforteth in mistake,' as well as 'instructeth'; and which
I quoted in my last letter;
'Errare est hominis, sed non persistere----'
And will own, that I was very 'rash' to take up with 'conjectures' and
'consequences' drawn from 'probabilites,' where (especially) the
'character' of so 'fine a lady' was concerned.
'Credere fallacy gravis est dementia famæ.' MANT.
Notwithstanding, Miss Clarissa Harlowe (I must be bold to say) is the
'only young lady,' that ever I heard of (or indeed read of) that, 'having
made such a false step,' so 'soon' (of 'her own accord,' as I may say)
'recovered' herself, and conquered her 'love of the deceiver'; (a great
conquest indeed!) and who flieth him, and resolveth to 'die,' rather than
to be his; which now, to her never-dying 'honour' (I am well assured) is
the case--and, in 'justice' to her, I am now ready to take to myself
(with no small vexation) that of Ovid,
'Heu! patior telis vulnera facta meis.'
But yet I do insist upon it, that all 'that part' of my 'information,'
which I took upon mine own 'personal inquiry,' which is what relates to
Mr. 'Belford' and 'his character,' is 'literally true'; for there is not
any where to be met with a man of a more 'libertine character' as to
'women,' Mr. 'Lovelace' excepted, than he beareth.
And so, Sir, I must desire of you, that you will not let 'any blame' lie
upon my 'intention'; since you see how ready I am to 'accuse myself' of
too lightly giving ear to a 'rash information' (not knowing it to be so,
however): for I depended the more upon it, as the 'people I had it from'
are very 'sober,' and live in the 'fear of God': and indeed when I wait
upon you, you will see by their letter, that they must be 'conscientious'
good people: wherefore, Sir, let me be entitled, from 'all your good
family,' to that of my last-named poet,
'Aspera confesso verba remitte reo.'
And now, Sir, (what is much more becoming of my 'function,') let me,
instead of appearing with the 'face of an accuser,' and a 'rash
censurer,' (which in my 'heart' I have not 'deserved' to be thought,)
assume the character of a 'reconciler'; and propose (by way of 'penance'
to myself for my 'fault') to be sent up as a 'messenger of peace' to the
'pious young lady'; for they write me word 'absolutely' (and, I believe
in my heart, 'truly') that the 'doctors' have 'given her over,' and that
she 'cannot live.' Alas! alas! what a sad thing would that be, if the
'poor bough,' that was only designed (as I 'very well know,' and am
'fully assured') 'to be bent, should be broken!'
Let it not, dear Sir, seem to the 'world' that there was any thing in
your 'resentments' (which, while meant for 'reclaiming,' were just and
fit) that hath the 'appearance' of 'violence,' and 'fierce wrath,' and
'inexorability'; (as it would look to some, if carried to extremity,
after 'repentance' and 'contrition,' and 'humiliation,' on the 'fair
offender's' side:) for all this while (it seemeth) she hath been a 'second
Magdalen' in her 'penitence,' and yet not so bad as a 'Magdalen' in her
'faults'; (faulty, nevertheless, as she hath been once, the Lord knoweth!
'Nam vitiis nemo sine nascitur: optimus ille est,
Qui minimis urgentur'----saith Horace).
Now, Sir, if I may be named for this 'blessed' employment, (for, 'Blessed
is the peace-maker!') I will hasten to London; and (as I know Miss had
always a 'great regard' to the 'function' I have the honour to be of) I
have no doubt of making myself acceptable to her, and to bring her, by
'sound arguments,' and 'good advice,' into a 'liking of life,' which must
be the 'first step' to her 'recovery': for, when the 'mind' is 'made
easy,' the 'body' will not 'long suffer'; and the 'love of life' is a
'natural passion,' that is soon 'revived,' when fortune turneth about,
and smileth:
'Vivere quisque diu, quamvis & egenus & ager,
Optat.---- ---- ----' OVID.
And the sweet Lucan truly observeth,
'---- ---- Fatis debentibus annos
Mors invita subit.---- ----'
And now, Sir, let me tell you what shall be the 'tenor' of my 'pleadings'
with her, and 'comfortings' of her, as she is, as I may say, a 'learned
lady'; and as I can 'explain' to her 'those sentences,' which she cannot
so readily 'construe herself': and this in order to convince 'you' (did
you not already 'know' my 'qualifications') how well qualified I 'am' for
the 'christian office' to which I commend myself.
I will, IN THE FIRST PLACE, put her in mind of the 'common course of
things' in this 'sublunary world,' in which 'joy' and 'sorrow, sorrow'
and joy,' succeed one another by turns'; in order to convince her, that
her griefs have been but according to 'that' common course of things:
'Gaudia post luctus veniunt, post gaudia luctus.'
SECONDLY, I will remind her of her own notable description of 'sorrow,'
whence she was once called upon to distinguish wherein 'sorrow, grief,'
and 'melancholy,' differed from each other; which she did 'impromptu,' by
their 'effects,' in a truly admirable manner, to the high satisfaction of
every one: I myself could not, by 'study,' have distinguished 'better,'
nor more 'concisely'--SORROW, said she, 'wears'; GRIEF 'tears'; but
MELANCHOLY 'sooths.'
My inference to her shall be, that since a happy reconciliation will take
place, 'grief' will be banished; 'sorrow' dismissed; and only sweet
'melancholy' remain to 'sooth' and 'indulge' her contrite 'heart,' and
show to all the world the penitent sense she hath of her great error.
THIRDLY, That her 'joys,'* when restored to health and favour, will be
the greater, the deeper her griefs were.
* 'Joy,' let me here observe, my dear Sir, by way of note, is not
absolutely inconsistent with 'melancholy'; a 'soft gentle joy,' not a
'rapid,' not a 'rampant joy,' however; but such a 'joy,' as shall lift
her 'temporarily' out of her 'soothing melancholy,' and then 'let her
down gently' into it again; for 'melancholy,' to be sure, her
'reflection' will generally make to be her state.
'Gaudia, quæ multo parta labore, placent.'
FOURTHLY, That having 'really' been guilty of a 'great error,' she should
not take 'impatiently' the 'correction' and 'anger' with which she hath
been treated.
'Leniter, ex merito quicquid patiare ferundum est.'
FIFTHLY, That 'virtue' must be established by 'patience'; as saith
Prudentius:
'Hæc virtus vidua est, quam non patientia firmat.'
SIXTHLY, That in the words of Horace, she may 'expect better times,' than
(of late) she had 'reason' to look for.
'Grata superveniet, quæ non sperabitur, hora.'
SEVENTHLY, That she is really now in 'a way' to be 'happy,' since,
according to 'Ovid,' she 'can count up all her woe':
'Felix, qui patitur quæ numerare potest.'
And those comforting lines,
'Estque serena dies post longos gratior imbres,
Et post triste malum gratior ipsa salus.'
EIGHTHLY, That, in the words of Mantuan, her 'parents' and 'uncles' could
not 'help loving her' all the time they were 'angry at her':
'Æqua tamen mens est, & amica voluntas,
Sit licet in natos austere parentum.'
NINTHLY, That the 'ills she hath met with' may be turned (by the 'good
use' to be made of them) to her 'everlasting benefit'; for that,
'Cum furit atque ferit, Deus olim parcere quærit.'
TENTHLY, That she will be able to give a 'fine lesson' (a 'very' fine
lesson) to all the 'young ladies' of her 'acquaintance,' of the 'vanity'
of being 'lifted up' in 'prosperity,' and the 'weakness' of being 'cast
down' in 'adversity'; since no one is so 'high,' as to be above being
'humbled'; so 'low,' as to 'need to despair': for which purpose the
advice of 'Ausonius,'
'Dum fortuna juvat, caveto tolli:
Dum fortuna tonat, caveto mergi.'
I shall tell her, that Lucan saith well, when he calleth 'adversity the
element of patience';
'----Gaudet patientia duris:'