MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE SATURDAY, MARCH 18.

I have been frighted out of my wits--still am in a manner out of

breath--thus occasioned--I went down, under the usual pretence, in

hopes to find something from you. Concerned at my disappointment, I was

returning from the wood-house, when I heard a rustling as of somebody

behind a stack of wood. I was extremely surprised: but still more, to

behold a man coming from behind the furthermost stack. Oh! thought I, at

that moment, the sin of a prohibited correspondence!

In the same point of time that I saw him, he besought me not to be

frighted: and, still nearer approaching me, threw open a horseman's

coat: And who should it be but Mr. Lovelace!--I could not scream out

(yet attempted to scream, the moment I saw a man; and again, when I saw

who it was); for I had no voice: and had I not caught hold of a prop

which supported the old roof, I should have sunk.

I had hitherto, as you know, kept him at a distance: And now, as I

recovered myself, judge of my first emotions, when I recollected his

character from every mouth of my family; his enterprising temper; and

found myself alone with him, in a place so near a bye-lane, and so

remote from the house.

But his respectful behaviour soon dissipated these fears, and gave me

others; lest we should be seen together, and information of it given to

my brother: the consequences of which, I could readily think, would be,

if not further mischief, an imputed assignation, a stricter confinement,

a forfeited correspondence with you, my beloved friend, and a pretence

for the most violent compulsion: and neither the one set of reflections,

nor the other, acquitted him to me for his bold intrusion.

As soon therefore as I could speak, I expressed with the greatest warmth

my displeasure; and told him, that he cared not how much he exposed me

to the resentment of all my friends, provided he could gratify his own

impetuous humour. I then commanded him to leave the place that moment;

and was hurrying from him, when he threw himself in the way at my feet,

beseeching my stay for one moment; declaring, that he suffered himself

to be guilty of this rashness, as I thought it, to avoid one much

greater:--for, in short, he could not bear the hourly insults he

received from my family, with the thoughts of having so little interest

in my favour, that he could not promise himself that his patience and

forbearance would be attended with any other issue than to lose me for

ever, and be triumphed over and insulted upon it.

This man, you know, has very ready knees. You have said, that he ought,

in small points, frequently to offend, on purpose to shew what an

address he is master of.

He ran on, expressing his apprehensions that a temper so gentle and

obliging, as he said mine was, to every body but him, (and a dutifulness

so exemplary inclined me to do my part to others, whether they did

theirs or not by me,) would be wrought upon in favour of a man set up in

part to be revenged upon myself, for my grandfather's envied distinction

of me; and in part to be revenged upon him, for having given life to

one, who would have taken his; and now sought to deprive him of hopes

dearer to him than life.

I told him, he might be assured, that the severity and ill-usage I

met with would be far from effecting the proposed end: that although I

could, with great sincerity, declare for a single life (which had always

been my choice); and particularly, that if ever I married, if they would

not insist upon the man I had an aversion to, it should not be with the

man they disliked--

He interrupted me here: He hoped I would forgive him for it; but

he could not help expressing his great concern, that, after so many

instances of his passionate and obsequious devotion--

And pray, Sir, said I, let me interrupt you in my turn;--Why don't you

assert, in still plainer words, the obligation you have laid me under by

this your boasted devotion? Why don't you let me know, in terms as high

as your implication, that a perseverance I have not wished for, which

has set all my relations at variance with me, is a merit that throws

upon me the guilt of ingratitude for not having answered it as you seem

to expect?

I must forgive him, he said, if he, who pretended only to a comparative

merit, (and otherwise thought no man living could deserve me,) had

presumed to hope for a greater share in my favour, than he had hitherto

met with, when such men as Mr. Symmes, Mr. Wyerley, and now, lastly, so

vile a reptile as this Solmes, however discouraged by myself, were made

his competitors. As to the perseverance I mentioned, it was impossible

for him not to persevere: but I must needs know, that were he not in

being, the terms Solmes had proposed were such, as would have involved

me in the same difficulties with my relations that I now laboured under.

He therefore took the liberty to say, that my favour to him, far from

increasing those difficulties, would be the readiest way to extricate me

from them. They had made it impossible [he told me, with too much truth]

to oblige them any way, but by sacrificing myself to Solmes. They were

well apprized besides of the difference between the two; one, whom they

hoped to manage as they pleased; the other, who could and would protect

me from every insult; and who had natural prospects much superior to my

brother's foolish views of a title.

How comes this man to know so well all our foibles? But I more wonder,

how he came to have a notion of meeting me in this place?

I was very uneasy to be gone; and the more as the night came on apace.

But there was no getting from him, till I had heard a great deal more of

what he had to say.

As he hoped, that I would one day make him the happiest man in the

world, he assured me, that he had so much regard for my fame, that he

would be as far from advising any step that was likely to cast a shade

upon my reputation, (although that step was to be ever so much in his

own favour,) as I would be to follow such advice. But since I was not

to be permitted to live single, he would submit it to my consideration,

whether I had any way but one to avoid the intended violence to my

inclinations--my father so jealous of his authority: both my uncles in

my father's way of thinking: my cousin Morden at a distance: my uncle

and aunt Hervey awed into insignificance, was his word: my brother and

sister inflaming every one: Solmes's offers captivating: Miss Howe's

mother rather of a party with them, for motives respecting example to

her own daughter.

And then he asked me, if I would receive a letter from Lady Betty

Lawrance, on this occasion: for Lady Sarah Sadleir, he said, having

lately lost her only child, hardly looked into the world, or thought of

it farther than to wish him married, and, preferably to all the women in

the world, with me.

To be sure, my dear, there is a great deal in what the man said--I may

be allowed to say this, without an imputed glow or throb. But I told

him nevertheless, that although I had great honour for the ladies he

was related to, yet I should not choose to receive a letter on a subject

that had a tendency to promote an end I was far from intending to

promote: that it became me, ill as I was treated at present, to hope

every thing, to bear every thing, and to try ever thing: when my father

saw my steadfastness, and that I would die rather than have Mr. Solmes,

he would perhaps recede--

Interrupting me, he represented the unlikelihood there was of that,

from the courses they had entered upon; which he thus enumerated:--Their

engaging Mrs. Howe against me, in the first place, as a person I might

have thought to fly to, if pushed to desperation--my brother continually

buzzing in my father's ears, that my cousin Morden would soon arrive,

and then would insist upon giving me possession of my grandfather's

estate, in pursuance of the will; which would render me independent

of my father--their disgraceful confinement of me--their dismissing so

suddenly my servant, and setting my sister's over me--their engaging my

mother, contrary to her own judgment, against me: these, he said, were

all so many flagrant proofs that they would stick at nothing to carry

their point; and were what made him inexpressibly uneasy.

He appealed to me, whether ever I knew my father recede from any

resolution he had once fixed; especially, if he thought either

his prerogative, or his authority concerned in the question. His

acquaintance with our family, he said, enabled him to give several

instances (but they would be too grating to me) of an arbitrariness

that had few examples even in the families of princes: an arbitrariness,

which the most excellent of women, my mother, too severely experienced.

He was proceeding, as I thought, with reflections of this sort; and I

angrily told him, I would not permit my father to be reflected upon;

adding, that his severity to me, however unmerited, was not a warrant

for me to dispense with my duty to him.

He had no pleasure, he said, in urging any thing that could be so

construed; for, however well warranted he was to make such reflections

from the provocations they were continually giving him, he knew how

offensive to me any liberties of this sort would be. And yet he must

own, that it was painful to him, who had youth and passions to be

allowed for, as well as others, and who had always valued himself under

speaking his mind, to curb himself, under such treatment. Nevertheless,

his consideration for me would make him confine himself, in his

observations, to facts that were too flagrant, and too openly avowed, to

be disputed. It could not therefore justly displease, he would venture

to say, if he made this natural inference from the premises, That

if such were my father's behaviour to a wife, who disputed not the

imaginary prerogatives he was so unprecedently fond of asserting, what

room had a daughter to hope, that he would depart from an

authority he was so earnest, and so much more concerned, to

maintain?--Family-interests at the same time engaging; an aversion,

however causelessly conceived, stimulating my brother's and sister's

resentments and selfish views cooperating; and my banishment from their

presence depriving me of all personal plea or entreaty in my own favour.

How unhappy, my dear, that there is but too much reason for these

observations, and for this inference; made, likewise, with more coolness

and respect to my family than one would have apprehended from a man

so much provoked, and of passions so high, and generally thought

uncontroulable!

Will you not question me about throbs and glows, if from such instances

of a command over his fiery temper, for my sake, I am ready to infer,

that were my friends capable of a reconciliation with him, he might be

affected by arguments apparently calculated for his present and future

good! Nor is it a very bad indication, that he has such moderate notions

of that very high prerogative in husbands, of which we in our family

have been accustomed to hear so much.

He represented to me, that my present disgraceful confinement was known

to all the world: that neither my sister nor my brother scrupled to

represent me as an obliged and favoured child in a state of actual

rebellion. That, nevertheless, every body who knew me was ready to

justify me for an aversion to a man whom every body thought utterly

unworthy of me, and more fit for my sister: that unhappy as he was,

in not having been able to make any greater impression upon me in his

favour, all the world gave me to him. Nor was there but one objection

made to him by his very enemies (his birth, his prospects all very

unexceptionable, and the latter splendid); and that objection, he

thanked God, and my example, was in a fair way of being removed for

ever: since he had seen his error, and was heartily sick of the courses

he had followed; which, however, were far less enormous than malice and

envy had represented them to be. But of this he should say the less, as

it were much better to justify himself by his actions, than by the most

solemn asseverations and promises. And then, complimenting my person,

he assured me (for that he always loved virtue, although he had not

followed its rules as he ought) that he was still more captivated with

the graces of my mind: and would frankly own, that till he had the

honour to know me, he had never met with an inducement sufficient to

enable him to overcome an unhappy kind of prejudice to matrimony; which

had made him before impenetrable to the wishes and recommendations of

all his relations.

You see, my dear, he scruples not to speak of himself, as his enemies

speak of him. I can't say, but his openness in these particulars gives

a credit to his other professions. I should easily, I think, detect

an hypocrite: and this man particularly, who is said to have allowed

himself in great liberties, were he to pretend to instantaneous lights

and convictions--at this time of life too. Habits, I am sensible, are

not so easily changed. You have always joined with me in remarking, that

he will speak his mind with freedom, even to a degree of unpoliteness

sometimes; and that his very treatment of my family is a proof that he

cannot make a mean court to any body for interest sake--What pity, where

there are such laudable traces, that they should have been so mired, and

choaked up, as I may say!--We have heard, that the man's head is better

than his heart: But do you really think Mr. Lovelace can have a very bad

heart? Why should not there be something in blood in the human

creature, as well as in the ignobler animals? None of his family are

exceptionable--but himself, indeed. The characters of the ladies are

admirable. But I shall incur the imputation I wish to avoid. Yet what a

look of censoriousness does it carry in an unsparing friend, to take one

to task for doing that justice, and making those which one ought without

scruple to do, and to make, in the behalf of any other man living?

He then again pressed me to receive a letter of offered protection from

Lady Betty. He said, that people of birth stood a little too much upon

punctilio; as people of value also did (but indeed birth, worthily lived

up to, was virtue: virtue, birth; the inducements to a decent punctilio

the same; the origin of both one): [how came this notion from him!]

else, Lady Betty would write to me: but she would be willing to be first

apprized that her offer will be well received--as it would have the

appearance of being made against the liking of one part of my family;

and which nothing would induce her to make, but the degree of unworthy

persecution which I actually laboured under, and had reason further to

apprehend.

I told him, that, however greatly I thought myself obliged to Lady Betty

Lawrance, if this offer came from herself; yet it was easy to see to

what it led. It might look like vanity in me perhaps to say, that this

urgency in him, on this occasion, wore the face of art, in order to

engage me into measures from which I might not easily extricate myself.

I said, that I should not be affected by the splendour of even a royal

title. Goodness, I thought, was greatness. That the excellent characters

of the ladies of his family weighed more with me, than the consideration

that they were half-sisters to Lord M. and daughters of an earl: that

he would not have found encouragement from me, had my friends been

consenting to his address, if he had only a mere relative merit to those

ladies: since, in that case, the very reasons that made me admire them,

would have been so many objections to their kinsman.

I then assured him, that it was with infinite concern, that I had found

myself drawn into an epistolary correspondence with him; especially

since that correspondence had been prohibited: and the only agreeable

use I could think of making of this unexpected and undesired interview,

was, to let him know, that I should from henceforth think myself obliged

to discontinue it. And I hoped, that he would not have the thought of

engaging me to carry it on by menacing my relations.

There was light enough to distinguish, that he looked very grave upon

this. He so much valued my free choice, he said, and my unbiassed

favour, (scorning to set himself upon a footing with Solmes in the

compulsory methods used in that man's behalf,) that he should hate

himself, were he capable of a view of intimidating me by so very poor

a method. But, nevertheless, there were two things to be considered:

First, that the continual outrages he was treated with; the spies set

over him, one of which he had detected; the indignities all his family

were likewise treated with;--as also, myself; avowedly in malice to him,

or he should not presume to take upon himself to resent for me, without

my leave [the artful wretch saw he would have lain open here, had he not

thus guarded]--all these considerations called upon him to shew a proper

resentment: and he would leave it to me to judge, whether it would be

reasonable for him, as a man of spirit, to bear such insults, if it

were not for my sake. I would be pleased to consider, in the next place,

whether the situation I was in, (a prisoner in my father's house, and my

whole family determined to compel me to marry a man unworthy of me, and

that speedily, and whether I consented or not,) admitted of delay in the

preventive measures he was desirous to put me upon, in the last resort

only. Nor was there a necessity, he said, if I were actually in Lady

Betty's protection, that I should be his, if, afterwards, I should see

any thing objectionable in his conduct.

But what would the world conclude would be the end, I demanded, were I,

in the last resort, as he proposed, to throw myself into the protection

of his friends, but that it was with such a view?

And what less did the world think of me now, he asked, than that I was

confined that I might not? You are to consider, Madam, you have not now

an option; and to whom is it owing that you have not; and that you

are in the power of those (parents, why should I call them?) who are

determined, that you shall not have an option. All I propose is, that

you will embrace such a protection--but not till you have tried every

way, to avoid the necessity for it.

And give me leave to say, proceeded he, that if a correspondence, on

which I have founded all my hopes, is, at this critical conjuncture, to

be broken off; and if you are resolved not to be provided against the

worst; it must be plain to me, that you will at last yield to that

worst--worst to me only--it cannot be to you--and then! [and he put his

hand clenched to his forehead] How shall I bear this supposition?--Then

will you be that Solmes's!--But, by all that's sacred, neither he, nor

your brother, nor your uncles, shall enjoy their triumph--Perdition

seize my soul, if they shall!

The man's vehemence frightened me: yet, in resentment, I would have

left him; but, throwing himself at my feet again, Leave me not thus--I

beseech you, dearest Madam, leave me not thus, in despair! I kneel not,

repenting of what I have vowed in such a case as that I have supposed.

I re-vow it, at your feet!--and so he did. But think not it is by way

of menace, or to intimidate you to favour me. If your heart inclines

you [and then he arose] to obey your father (your brother rather) and to

have Solmes; although I shall avenge myself on those who have insulted

me, for their insults to myself and family, yet will I tear out my heart

from this bosom (if possible with my own hands) were it to scruple to

give up its ardours to a woman capable of such a preference.

I told him, that he talked to me in very high language; but he might

assure himself that I never would have Mr. Solmes, (yet that this I said

not in favour to him,) and I had declared as much to my relations, were

there not such a man as himself in the world.

Would I declare, that I would still honour him with my

correspondence?--He could not bear, that, hoping to obtain greater

instances of my favour, he should forfeit the only one he had to boast

of.

I bid him forbear rashness or resentment to any of my family, and I

would, for some time at least, till I saw what issue my present trials

were likely to have, proceed with a correspondence, which, nevertheless,

my heart condemned--

And his spirit him, the impatient creature said, interrupting me, for

bearing what he did; when he considered, that the necessity of it was

imposed upon him, not by my will, (for then he would bear it cheerfully,

and a thousand times more,) but by creatures--And there he stopt.

I told him plainly that he might thank himself (whose indifferent

character, as to morals, had given such a handle against him) for all.

It was but just, that a man should be spoken evil of, who set no value

upon his reputation.

He offered to vindicate himself. But I told him, I would judge him by

his own rule--by his actions, not by his professions.

Were not his enemies, he said, so powerful, and so determined; and had

they not already shewn their intentions in such high acts of even cruel

compulsion; but would leave me to my choice, or to my desire of living

single; he would have been content to undergo a twelvemonth's probation,

or more: but he was confident, that one month would either complete all

their purposes, or render them abortive: and I best knew what hopes I

had of my father's receding--he did not know him, if I had any.

I said, I would try every method, that either my duty or my influence

upon any of them should suggest, before I would put myself into any

other protection: and, if nothing else would do, would resign the envied

estate; and that I dared to say would.

He was contented, he said, to abide that issue. He should be far from

wishing me to embrace any other protection, but, as he had frequently

said, in the last necessity. But dearest creature, said he, catching

my hand with ardour, and pressing it to his lips, if the yielding up

of that estate will do--resign it--and be mine--and I will corroborate,

with all my soul, your resignation!

This was not ungenerously said: But what will not these men say to

obtain belief, and a power over one?

I made many efforts to go; and now it was so dark, that I began to have

great apprehensions. I cannot say from his behaviour: indeed, he has a

good deal raised himself in my opinion by the personal respect, even to

reverence, which he paid me during the whole conference: for, although

he flamed out once, upon a supposition that Solmes might succeed, it was

upon a supposition that would excuse passion, if any thing could, you

know, in a man pretending to love with fervour; although it was so

levelled, that I could not avoid resenting it.

He recommended himself to my favour at parting, with great earnestness,

yet with as great submission; not offering to condition any thing with

me; although he hinted his wishes for another meeting: which I forbad

him ever attempting again in the same place. And I will own to you,

from whom I should be really blamable to conceal any thing, that his

arguments (drawn from the disgraceful treatment I meet with) of what

I am to expect, make me begin to apprehend that I shall be under an

obligation to be either the one man's or the other's--and, if so, I

fancy I shall not incur your blame, were I to say which of the two it

must be: you have said, which it must not be. But, O my dear, the single

life is by far the most eligible to me: indeed it is. And I hope yet to

be permitted to make that option.

I got back without observation; but the apprehension that I should

not, gave me great uneasiness; and made me begin a letter in a greater

flutter than he gave me cause to be in, except at the first seeing him;

for then indeed my spirits failed me; and it was a particular felicity,

that, in such a place, in such a fright, and alone with him, I fainted

not away.

I should add, that having reproached him with his behaviour the last

Sunday at church, he solemnly assured me, that it was not what had been

represented to me: that he did not expect to see me there: but hoped to

have an opportunity to address himself to my father, and to be permitted

to attend him home. But that the good Dr. Lewen had persuaded him not

to attempt speaking to any of the family, at that time; observing to him

the emotions into which his presence had put every body. He intended

no pride, or haughtiness of behaviour, he assured me; and that the

attributing such to him was the effect of that ill-will which he had

the mortification to find insuperable: adding, that when he bowed to my

mother, it was a compliment he intended generally to every one in the

pew, as well as to her, whom he sincerely venerated.

If he may be believed, (and I should think he would not have come

purposely to defy my family, yet expect favour from me,) one may see,

my dear, the force of hatred, which misrepresents all things. Yet why

should Shorey (except officiously to please her principals) make a

report in his disfavour? He told me, that he would appeal to Dr. Lewen

for his justification on this head; adding, that the whole conversation

between the Doctor and him turned upon his desire to attempt to

reconcile himself to us all, in the face of the church; and upon

the Doctor's endeavouring to dissuade him from making such a public

overture, till he knew how it would be accepted. But to what purpose

his appeal, when I am debarred from seeing that good man, or any one who

would advise me what to do in my present difficult situation!

I fancy, my dear, however, that there would hardly be a guilty person in

the world, were each suspected or accused person to tell his or her own

story, and be allowed any degree of credit.

Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 1 · 第 156 / 196 题