I have both your letters at once. It is very unhappy, my dear, since
your friends will have you marry, that a person of your merit should be
addressed by a succession of worthless creatures, who have nothing but
their presumption for their excuse.
That these presumers appear not in this very unworthy light to some of
your friends, is, because their defects are not so striking to them
as to others.--And why? Shall I venture to tell you?--Because they are
nearer their own standard--Modesty, after all, perhaps has a concern in
it; for how should they think that a niece or sister of theirs [I will
not go higher, for fear of incurring your displeasure] should be an
angel?
But where indeed is the man to be found (who has the least share of due
diffidence) that dares to look up to Miss Clarissa Harlowe with hope, or
with any thing but wishes? Thus the bold and forward, not being sensible
of their defects, aspire; while the modesty of the really worthy fills
them with too much reverence to permit them to explain themselves. Hence
your Symmes's, your Byron's, your Mullins's, your Wyerley's (the best
of the herd), and your Solmes's, in turn, invade you--Wretches that,
looking upon the rest of your family, need not despair of succeeding in
an alliance with it--But to you, what an inexcusable presumption!
Yet I am afraid all opposition will be in vain. You must, you will, I
doubt, be sacrificed to this odious man. I know your family. There will
be no resisting such baits as he has thrown out. O, my dear, my beloved
friend! and are such charming qualities, is such exalted merit, to be
sunk in such a marriage!--You must not, your uncle tells your mother,
dispute their authority. AUTHORITY! what a full word is that in the
mouth of a narrow-minded person, who happened to be born thirty years
before one!--Of your uncles I speak; for as to the paternal authority,
that ought to be sacred.--But should not parents have reason for what
they do?
Wonder not, however, at your Bell's unsisterly behaviour in this affair:
I have a particular to add to the inducements your insolent brother is
governed by, which will account for all her driving. You have already
owned, that her outward eye was from the first struck with the figure
and address of the man whom she pretends to despise, and who, 'tis
certain, thoroughly despises her: but you have not told me, that still
she loves him of all men. Bell has a meanness in her very pride; that
meanness rises with her pride, and goes hand in hand with it; and no
one is so proud as Bell. She has owned her love, her uneasy days,
and sleepless nights, and her revenge grafted upon her love, to her
favourite Betty Barnes--To lay herself in the power of a servant's
tongue! Poor creature!--But LIKE little souls will find one another
out, and mingle, as well as LIKE great ones. This, however, she told the
wench in strict confidence: and thus, by way of the female round-about,
as Lovelace had the sauciness on such another occasion, in ridicule of
our sex, to call it, Betty (pleased to be thought worthy of a secret,
and to have an opportunity of inveighing against Lovelace's perfidy,
as she would have it to be) told it to one of her confidants:
that confidant, with like injunctions of secrecy, to Miss Lloyd's
Harriot--Harriot to Miss Lloyd--Miss Lloyd to me--I to you--with leave
to make what you please of it.
And now you will not wonder to find Miss Bell an implacable rival,
rather than an affectionate sister; and will be able to account for the
words witchcraft, syren, and such like, thrown out against you; and for
her driving on for a fixed day for sacrificing you to Solmes: in short,
for her rudeness and violence of every kind.
What a sweet revenge will she take, as well upon Lovelace as upon you,
if she can procure her rival sister to be married to the man that sister
hates; and so prevent her having the man whom she herself loves (whether
she have hope of him or not), and whom she suspects her sister loves!
Poisons and poniard have often been set to work by minds inflamed by
disappointed love, and actuated by revenge.--Will you wonder, then, that
the ties of relationship in such a case have no force, and that a sister
forgets to be a sister?
Now I know this to be her secret motive, (the more grating to her, as
her pride is concerned to make her disavow it), and can consider it
joined with her former envy, and as strengthened by a brother, who has
such an ascendant over the whole family; and whose interest (slave to it
as he always was) engaged him to ruin you with every one: both possessed
of the ears of all your family, and having it as much in their power as
in their will to misrepresent all you say, all you do; such subject also
as to the rencounter, and Lovelace's want of morals, to expatiate upon:
your whole family likewise avowedly attached to the odious man by means
of the captivating proposals he has made them;--when I consider all
these things, I am full of apprehensions for you.--O my dear, how will
you be able to maintain your ground;--I am sure, (alas! I am too sure)
that they will subdue such a fine spirit as yours, unused to opposition;
and (tell it not in Gath) you must be Mrs. Solmes!
Mean time, it is now easy, as you will observe, to guess from what
quarter the report I mentioned to you in one of my former, came,
That the younger sister has robbed the elder of her lover:* for Betty
whispered it, at the time she whispered the rest, that neither Lovelace
nor you had done honourably by her young mistress.--How cruel, my dear,
in you, to rob the poor Bella of the only lover she only had!--At the
instant too that she was priding herself, that now at last she should
have it in her power not only to gratify her own susceptibilities, but
to give an example to the flirts of her sex** (my worship's self in
her eye) how to govern their man with a silken rein, and without a
curb-bridle!
* Letter I.
** Letter II.
Upon the whole, I have now no doubt of their persevering in favour of
the despicable Solmes; and of their dependence upon the gentleness of
your temper, and the regard you have for their favour, and for your own
reputation. And now I am more than ever convinced of the propriety of
the advice I formerly gave you, to keep in your own hands the estate
bequeathed to you by your grandfather.--Had you done so, it would have
procured you at least an outward respect from your brother and sister,
which would have made them conceal the envy and ill-will that now are
bursting upon you from hearts so narrow.
I must harp a little more upon this string--Do not you observe, how much
your brother's influence has overtopped yours, since he has got into
fortunes so considerable, and since you have given some of them an
appetite to continue in themselves the possession of your estate, unless
you comply with their terms?
I know your dutiful, your laudable motives; and one would have thought,
that you might have trusted to a father who so dearly loved you. But had
you been actually in possession of that estate, and living up to it, and
upon it, (your youth protected from blighting tongues by the company
of your prudent Norton, as you had proposed,) do you think that your
brother, grudging it to you at the time as he did, and looking upon it
as his right as an only son, would have been practising about it, and
aiming at it? I told you some time ago, that I thought your trials but
proportioned to your prudence:* but you will be more than woman, if
you can extricate yourself with honour, having such violent spirits and
sordid minds in some, and such tyrannical and despotic wills in others,
to deal with. Indeed, all may be done, and the world be taught further
to admire you for your blind duty and will-less resignation, if you can
persuade yourself to be Mrs. Solmes.
* Letter I.
I am pleased with the instances you give me of Mr. Lovelace's
benevolence to his own tenants, and with his little gift to your
uncle's. Mrs. Fortescue allows him to be the best of landlords: I might
have told you that, had I thought it necessary to put you into some
little conceit of him. He has qualities, in short, that may make him
a tolerable creature on the other side of fifty: but God help the
poor woman to whose lot he shall fall till then! women, I should say,
perhaps; since he may break half-a-dozen hearts before that time.--But
to the point I was upon--Shall we not have reason to commend the
tenant's grateful honesty, if we are told, that with joy the poor man
called out your uncle, and on the spot paid him in part of his debt
those two guineas?--But what shall we say of that landlord, who, though
he knew the poor man to be quite destitute, could take it; and, saying
nothing while Mr. Lovelace staid, as soon as he was gone, tell of it in
praise of the poor fellow's honesty?--Were this so, and were not that
landlord related to my dearest friend, how should I despise such a
wretch?--But, perhaps, the story is aggravated. Covetous people have
every one's ill word: and so indeed they ought; because they are
only solicitous to keep that which they prefer to every one's good
one.--Covetous indeed would they be, who deserved neither, yet expected
both!
I long for your next letter. Continue to be as particular as possible.
I can think of no other subject but what relates to you and to your
affairs: for I am, and ever will be, most affectionately,
Your own, ANNA HOWE.