But, Madam, may not some dreadful mischief first happen?--The law
asserts not itself, till it is offended.
You have made offers, Clary, if you might be obliged in the point in
question--Are you really in earnest, were you to be complied with, to
break off all correspondence with Mr. Lovelace?--Let me know this.
Indeed I am; and I will. You, Madam, shall see all the letters that
have passed between us. You shall see I have given him no encouragement
independent of my duty. And when you have seen them, you will be
better able to direct me how, on the condition I have offered, to break
entirely with him.
I take you at your word, Clarissa--Give me his letters; and the copies
of yours.
I am sure, Madam, you will keep the knowledge that I write, and what I
write--
No conditions with your mother--surely my prudence may be trusted to.
I begged her pardon; and besought her to take the key of the private
drawer in my escritoire, where they lay, that she herself might see that
I had no reserves to my mother.
She did; and took all his letters, and the copies of
mine.--Unconditioned with, she was pleased to say, they shall be yours
again, unseen by any body else.
I thanked her; and she withdrew to read them; saying, she would return
them, when she had.
***
You, my dear, have seen all the letters that passed between Mr. Lovelace
and me, till my last return from you. You have acknowledged, that he has
nothing to boast of from them. Three others I have received since, by
the private conveyance I told you of: the last I have not yet answered.
In these three, as in those you have seen, after having besought my
favour, and, in the most earnest manner, professed the ardour of his
passion for me; and set forth the indignities done him; the defiances
my brother throws out against him in all companies; the menaces, and
hostile appearance of my uncles wherever they go; and the methods they
take to defame him; he declares, 'That neither his own honour, nor
the honour of his family, (involved as that is in the undistinguishing
reflection cast upon him for an unhappy affair which he would have
shunned, but could not) permit him to bear these confirmed indignities:
that as my inclinations, if not favourable to him, cannot be, nor are,
to such a man as the newly-introduced Solmes, he is interested the more
to resent my brother's behaviour; who to every body avows his rancour
and malice; and glories in the probability he has, through the address
of this Solmes, of mortifying me, and avenging himself on him: that
it is impossible he should not think himself concerned to frustrate a
measure so directly levelled at him, had he not a still higher motive
for hoping to frustrate it: that I must forgive him, if he enter into
conference with Solmes upon it. He earnestly insists (upon what he has
so often proposed) that I will give him leave, in company with Lord
M. to wait upon my uncles, and even upon my father--and he promises
patience, if new provocations, absolutely beneath a man to bear, be not
given:' which by the way I am far from being able to engage for.
In my answer, I absolutely declare, as I tell him I have often done,
'That he is to expect no favour from me against the approbation of my
friends: that I am sure their consents for his visiting any of them
will never be obtained: that I will not be either so undutiful, or so
indiscreet, as to suffer my interests to be separated from the interests
of my family, for any man upon earth: that I do not think myself obliged
to him for the forbearance I desire one flaming spirit to have with
others: that in this desire I require nothing of him, but what prudence,
justice, and the laws of his country require: that if he has any
expectations of favour from me, on that account, he deceives himself:
that I have no inclination, as I have often told him, to change my
condition: that I cannot allow myself to correspond with him any longer
in this clandestine manner: it is mean, low, undutiful, I tell him; and
has a giddy appearance, which cannot be excused: that therefore he is
not to expect that I will continue it.
To this in his last, among other things, he replies, 'That if I am
actually determined to break off all correspondence with him, he must
conclude, that it is with a view to become the wife of a man, whom no
woman of honour and fortune can think tolerable. And in that case, I
must excuse him for saying, that he shall neither be able to bear the
thoughts of losing for ever a person in whom all his present and all his
future hopes are centred; nor support himself with patience under the
insolent triumphs of my brother upon it. But that nevertheless he will
not threaten either his own life, or that of any other man. He must take
his resolutions as such a dreaded event shall impel him at the time. If
he shall know that it will have my consent, he must endeavour to resign
to his destiny: but if it be brought about by compulsion, he shall not
be able to answer for the consequence.'
I will send you these letters for your perusal in a few days. I would
enclose them; but that it is possible something may happen, which may
make my mother require to re-peruse them. When you see them, you will
observe how he endeavours to hold me to this correspondence.
***
In about an hour my mother returned. Take your letters, Clary: I have
nothing, she was pleased to say, to tax your discretion with, as to the
wording of yours to him: you have even kept up a proper dignity, as
well as observed all the rules of decorum; and you have resented, as you
ought to resent, his menacing invectives. In a word, I see not, that he
can form the least expectations, from what you have written, that you
will encourage the passion he avows for you. But does he not avow his
passion? Have you the least doubt about what must be the issue of this
correspondence, if continued? And do you yourself think, when you know
the avowed hatred of one side, and he declared defiances of the other,
that this can be, that it ought to be a match?
By no means it can, Madam; you will be pleased to observed, that I have
said as much to him. But now, Madam, that the whole correspondence
is before you, I beg your commands what to do in a situation so very
disagreeable.
One thing I will tell you, Clary--but I charge you, as you would not
have me question the generosity of your spirit, to take no advantage
of it, either mentally or verbally; that I am so much pleased with the
offer of your keys to me, made in so cheerful and unreserved a manner,
and in the prudence you have shewn in your letters, that were it
practicable to bring every one, or your father only, into my opinion, I
should readily leave all the rest to your discretion, reserving only to
myself the direction or approbation of your future letters; and to see,
that you broke off the correspondence as soon as possible. But as it is
not, and as I know your father would have no patience with you, should
it be acknowledged that you correspond with Mr. Lovelace, or that you
have corresponded with him since the time he prohibited you to do so;
I forbid you to continue such a liberty--Yet, as the case is difficult,
let me ask you, What you yourself can propose? Your heart, you say, is
free. Your own, that you cannot think, as matters circumstanced, that
a match with a man so obnoxious as he now is to us all, is proper to
be thought of: What do you propose to do?--What, Clary, are your own
thoughts of the matter?
Without hesitation thus I answered--What I humbly propose is
this:--'That I will write to Mr. Lovelace (for I have not answered his
last) that he has nothing to do between my father and me: that I
neither ask his advice nor need it: but that since he thinks he has some
pretence for interfering, because of my brother's avowal of the interest
of Mr. Solmes in displeasure to him, I will assure him (without giving
him any reason to impute the assurance to be in the least favourable to
himself) that I will never be that man's.' And if, proceeded I, I
may never be permitted to give him this assurance; and Mr. Solmes, in
consequence of it, be discouraged from prosecuting his address; let Mr.
Lovelace be satisfied or dissatisfied, I will go no farther; nor write
another line to him; nor ever see him more, if I can avoid it: and I
shall have a good excuse for it, without bringing in any of my family.
Ah! my love!--But what shall we do about the terms Mr. Solmes offers?
Those are the inducements with every body. He has even given hopes to
your brother that he will make exchanges of estates; or, at least, that
he will purchase the northern one; for you know it must be entirely
consistent with the family-views, that we increase our interest in this
country. Your brother, in short, has given a plan that captivates us
all. And a family so rich in all its branches, and that has its views to
honour, must be pleased to see a very great probability of taking rank
one day among the principal in the kingdom.
And for the sake of these views, for the sake of this plan of my
brother's, am I, Madam, to be given in marriage to a man I can never
endure!--O my dear Mamma, save me, save me, if you can, from this heavy
evil.--I had rather be buried alive, indeed I had, than have that man!
She chid me for my vehemence; but was so good as to tell me, That she
would sound my uncle Harlowe, who was then below; and if he encouraged
her (or would engage to second her) she would venture to talk to my
father herself; and I should hear further in the morning.
She went down to tea, and kindly undertook to excuse my attendance at
supper.
But is it not a sad thing, I repeat, to be obliged to stand in
opposition to the will of such a mother? Why, as I often say to myself,
was such a man as this Solmes fixed upon? The only man in the world,
surely, that could offer so much, and deserve so little!
Little indeed does he deserve!--Why, my dear, the man has the most
indifferent of characters. Every mouth is opened against him for his
sordid ways--A foolish man, to be so base-minded!--When the difference
between the obtaining of a fame for generosity, and incurring the
censure of being a miser, will not, prudently managed, cost fifty pounds
a year.
What a name have you got, at a less expense? And what an opportunity had
he of obtaining credit at a very small one, succeeding such a wretched
creature as Sir Oliver, in fortunes so vast?--Yet has he so behaved,
that the common phrase is applied to him, That Sir Oliver will never be
dead while Mr. Solmes lives.
The world, as I have often thought, ill-natured as it is said to be, is
generally more just in characters (speaking by what it feels) than is
usually apprehended: and those who complain most of its censoriousness,
perhaps should look inwardly for the occasion oftener than they do.
My heart is a little at ease, on the hopes that my mother will be able
to procure favour for me, and a deliverance from this man; and so I
have leisure to moralize. But if I had not, I should not forbear to
intermingle occasionally these sorts of remarks, because you command
me never to omit them when they occur to my mind: and not to be able
to make them, even in a more affecting situation, when one sits down
to write, would shew one's self more engaged to self, and to one's own
concerns, than attentive to the wishes of a friend. If it be said, that
it is natural so to be, what makes that nature, on occasions where a
friend may be obliged, or reminded of a piece of instruction, which
(writing down) one's self may be the better for, but a fault; which it
would set a person above nature to subdue?