MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE [IN ANSWER TO LETTER XV.] SAT. MARCH
4, 12 O'CLOCK.
Hannah has just now brought me from the usual place your favour of
yesterday. The contents of it have made me very thoughtful; and you
will have an answer in my gravest style.--I to have that Mr. Solmes!--No
indeed!--I will sooner--But I will write first to those passages in your
letter which are less concerning, that I may touch upon this part with
more patience.
As to what you mention of my sister's value for Mr. Lovelace, I am not
very much surprised at it. She takes such officious pains, and it is so
much her subject, to have it thought that she never did, and never could
like him, that she gives but too much room to suspect that she does. She
never tells the story of their parting, and of her refusal of him, but
her colour rises, she looks with disdain upon me, and mingles anger with
the airs she gives herself:--anger as well as airs, demonstrating, that
she refused a man whom she thought worth accepting: Where else is the
reason either for anger or boast?--Poor Bella! She is to be pitied--she
cannot either like or dislike with temper! Would to heaven she had been
mistress of all her wishes!--Would to heaven she had!
As to what you say of my giving up to my father's controul the estate
devised me, my motives at the time, as you acknowledge, were not
blamable. Your advice to me on the subject was grounded, as I remember,
on your good opinion of me; believing that I should not make a bad use
of the power willed me. Neither you nor I, my dear, although you now
assume the air of a diviner, [pardon me] could have believed that would
have happened which has happened, as to my father's part particularly.
You were indeed jealous of my brother's views against me; or rather of
his predominant love of himself; but I did not think so hardly of my
brother and sister as you always did. You never loved them; and ill-will
has eyes ever open to the faulty side; as good-will or love is blind
even to real imperfections. I will briefly recollect my motives.
I found jealousies and uneasiness rising in every breast, where all
before was unity and love. The honoured testator was reflected upon: a
second childhood was attributed to him; and I was censured, as having
taken advantage of it. All young creatures, thought I, more or less,
covet independency; but those who wish most for it, are seldom the
fittest to be trusted either with the government of themselves, or with
power over others. This is certainly a very high and unusual devise to
so young a creature. We should not aim at all we have power to do. To
take all that good-nature, or indulgence, or good opinion confers,
shews a want of moderation, and a graspingness that is unworthy of that
indulgence; and are bad indications of the use that may be made of the
power bequeathed. It is true, thought I, that I have formed agreeable
schemes of making others as happy as myself, by the proper discharge of
the stewardship intrusted to me. [Are not all estates stewardships,
my dear?] But let me examine myself: Is not vanity, or secret love
of praise, a principal motive with me at the bottom?--Ought I not to
suspect my own heart? If I set up for myself, puffed up with every one's
good opinion, may I not be left to myself?--Every one's eyes are upon
the conduct, upon the visits, upon the visiters, of a young creature
of our sex, made independent: And are not such subjected, more than any
others, to the attempts of enterprisers and fortune-seekers?--And then,
left to myself, should I take a wrong step, though with ever so good an
intention, how many should I have to triumph over me, how few to pity
me!--The more of the one, and the fewer of the other, for having aimed
at excelling.
These were some of my reflections at the time: and I have no doubt, but
that in the same situation I should do the very same thing; and that
upon the maturest deliberation. Who can command or foresee events? To
act up to our best judgments at the time, is all we can do. If I have
erred, 'tis to worldly wisdom only that I have erred. If we suffer by an
act of duty, or even by an act of generosity, is it not pleasurable on
reflection, that the fault is in others, rather than in ourselves?--I
had much rather have reason to think others unkind, than that they
should have any to think me undutiful.
And so, my dear, I am sure had you.
And now for the most concerning part of your letter.
You think I must of necessity, as matters are circumstanced, be Solmes's
wife. I will not be very rash, my dear, in protesting to the contrary:
but I think it never can, and, what is still more, never ought to
be!--My temper, I know, is depended upon. But I have heretofore said,*
that I have something in me of my father's family, as well as of my
mother's. And have I any encouragement to follow too implicitly the
example which my mother sets of meekness, and resignedness to the wills
of others? Is she not for ever obliged (as she was pleased to hint to
me) to be of the forbearing side? In my mother's case, your observation
I must own is verified, that those who will bear much, shall have much
to bear.** What is it, as she says, that she has not sacrificed to
peace?--Yet, has she by her sacrifices always found the peace she has
deserved to find? Indeed, no!--I am afraid the very contrary. And often
and often have I had reason (on her account) to reflect, that we poor
mortals, by our over-solicitude to preserve undisturbed the qualities we
are constitutionally fond of, frequently lose the benefits we propose
to ourselves from them: since the designing and encroaching (finding out
what we most fear to forfeit) direct their batteries against these our
weaker places, and, making an artillery (if I may so phrase it) of our
hopes and fears, play upon us at their pleasure.
* See Letter IX.
** See Letter X.
Steadiness of mind, (a quality which the ill-bred and censorious deny to
any of our sex) when we are absolutely convinced of being in the right
[otherwise it is not steadiness, but obstinacy] and when it is exerted
in material cases, is a quality, which, as my good Dr. Lewen was wont to
say, brings great credit to the possessor of it; at the same time that
it usually, when tried and known, raises such above the attempts of
the meanly machinating. He used therefore to inculcate upon me this
steadiness, upon laudable convictions. And why may I not think that I am
now put upon a proper exercise of it?
I said above, that I never can be, that I never ought to be, Mrs.
Solmes.--I repeat, that I ought not: for surely, my dear, I should not
give up to my brother's ambition the happiness of my future life. Surely
I ought not to be the instrument of depriving Mr. Solmes's relations of
their natural rights and reversionary prospects, for the sake of further
aggrandizing a family (although that I am of) which already lives
in great affluence and splendour; and which might be as justly
dissatisfied, were all that some of it aim at to be obtained, that they
were not princes, as now they are that they are not peers [For when ever
was an ambitious mind, as you observe in the case of avarice,* satisfied
by acquisition?]. The less, surely, ought I to give into these grasping
views of my brother, as I myself heartily despise the end aimed at; as
I wish not either to change my state, or better my fortunes; and as I
am fully persuaded, that happiness and riches are two things, and very
seldom meet together.
* See Letter X.
Yet I dread, I exceedingly dread, the conflicts I know I must
encounter with. It is possible, that I may be more unhappy from the due
observation of the good doctor's general precept, than were I to
yield the point; since what I call steadiness is deemed stubbornness,
obstinacy, prepossession, by those who have a right to put what
interpretation they please upon my conduct.
So, my dear, were we perfect (which no one can be) we could not be
happy in this life, unless those with whom we have to deal (those more
especially who have any controul upon us) were governed by the same
principles. But then does not the good Doctor's conclusion recur,--That
we have nothing to do, but to chuse what is right; to be steady in the
pursuit of it; and to leave the issue to Providence?
This, if you approve of my motives, (and if you don't, pray inform me)
must be my aim in the present case.
But what then can I plead for a palliation to myself of my mother's
sufferings on my account? Perhaps this consideration will carry some
force with it--That her difficulties cannot last long; only till
this great struggle shall be one way or other determined--Whereas my
unhappiness, if I comply, will (from an aversion not to be overcome) be
for life. To which let me add, That as I have reason to think that the
present measures are not entered upon with her own natural liking, she
will have the less pain, should they want the success which I think in
my heart they ought to want.
I have run a great length in a very little time. The subject touched me
to the quick. My reflections upon it will give you reason to expect from
me a perhaps too steady behaviour in a new conference, which, I find, I
must have with my mother. My father and brother, as she was pleased
to tell me, dine at my uncle Antony's; and that, as I have reason to
believe, on purpose to give an opportunity for it.
Hannah informs me, that she heard my father high and angry with my
mother, at taking leave of her: I suppose for being to favourable to me;
for Hannah heard her say, as in tears, 'Indeed, Mr. Harlowe, you greatly
distress me!--The poor girl does not deserve--' Hannah heard no more,
but that he said, he would break somebody's heart--Mine, I suppose--Not
my mother's, I hope.
As only my sister dines with my mother, I thought I should have been
commanded down: but she sent me up a plate from her table. I continued
my writing. I could not touch a morsel. I ordered Hannah however to eat
of it, that I might not be thought sullen.
Before I conclude this, I will see whether any thing offers from either
of my private correspondencies, that will make it proper to add to it;
and will take a turn in the wood-yard and garden for that purpose.
***
I am stopped. Hannah shall deposit this. She was ordered by my mother
(who asked where I was) to tell me, that she would come up and talk with
me in my own closet.--She is coming! Adieu, my dear.