I detain your messenger while I write an answer to yours; the poor old
man not being very well.
You dishearten me a good deal about Mr. Lovelace. I may be too willing
from my sad circumstances to think the best of him. If his pretences
to reformation are but pretences, what must be his intent? But can the
heart of man be so very vile? Can he, dare he, mock the Almighty? But
I may not, from one very sad reflection, think better of him; that I am
thrown too much into his power, to make it necessary for him (except
he were to intend the very utmost villany by me) to be such a shocking
hypocrite? He must, at least be in earnest at the time he gives the
better hopes. Surely he must. You yourself must join with me in this
hope, or you could not wish me to be so dreadfully yoked.
But after all, I had rather, much rather, be independent of him, and of
his family, although I have an high opinion of them; at least till I see
what my own may be brought to.--Otherwise, I think, it were best for me,
at once, to cast myself into Lady Betty's protection. All would then be
conducted with decency, and perhaps many mortifications would be spared
me. But then I must be his, at all adventures, and be thought to defy my
own family. And shall I not first see the issue of one application? And
yet I cannot make this, till I am settled somewhere, and at a distance
from him.
Mrs. Sorlings shewed me a letter this morning, which she had received
from her sister Greme last night; in which Mrs. Greme (hoping I would
forgive her forward zeal if her sister thinks fit to shew her letter to
me) 'wishes (and that for all the noble family's sake, and she hopes she
may say for my own) that I will be pleased to yield to make his honour,
as she calls him, happy.' She grounds her officiousness, as she calls
it, upon what he was so condescending [her word also] to say to her
yesterday, in his way to Windsor, on her presuming to ask, if she might
soon give him joy? 'That no man ever loved a woman as he loves me: that
no woman ever so well deserved to be beloved: that he loves me with such
a purity as he had never believed himself capable of, or that a mortal
creature could have inspired him with; looking upon me as all soul; as
an angel sent down to save his;' and a great deal more of this sort:
'but that he apprehends my consent to make him happy is at a greater
distance than he wishes; and complained of too severe restrictions I
had laid upon him before I honoured him with my confidence: which
restrictions must be as sacred to him, as if they were parts of the
marriage contract,' &c.
What, my dear, shall I say to this? How shall I take it? Mrs. Greme is
a good woman. Mrs. Sorlings is a good woman. And this letter agrees with
the conversation between Mr. Lovelace and me, which I thought, and
still think, so agreeable.* Yet what means the man by foregoing the
opportunities he has had to declare himself?--What mean his complaints
of my restrictions to Mrs. Greme? He is not a bashful man.--But you say,
I inspire people with an awe of me.--An awe, my dear!--As how?
* This letter Mrs. Greme (with no bad design on her part) was put upon
writing by Mr. Lovelace himself, as will be seen in Letter XXXV.
I am quite petulant, fretful, and peevish, with myself, at times, to
find that I am bound to see the workings of the subtle, or this giddy
spirit, which shall I call it?
How am I punished, as I frequently think, for my vanity, in hoping to
be an example to young persons of my sex! Let me be but a warning, and I
will now be contented. For, be my destiny what it may, I shall never
be able to hold up my head again among my best friends and worthiest
companions.
It is one of the cruelest circumstances that attends the faults of the
inconsiderate, that she makes all who love her unhappy, and gives joy
only to her own enemies, and to the enemies of her family.
What an useful lesson would this afford, were it properly inculcated at
the time that the tempted mind was balancing upon a doubtful adventure?
You know not, my dear, the worth of a virtuous man; and, noble-minded as
you are in most particulars, you partake of the common weakness of human
nature, in being apt to slight what is in your own power.
You would not think of using Mr. Lovelace, were he your suitor, as you
do the much worthier Mr. Hickman--would you?--You know who says in
my mother's case, 'Much will bear, much shall bear, all the world
through.'* Mr. Hickman, I fancy, would be glad to know the lady's name,
who made such an observation. He would think it hardly possible, but
such a one should benefit by her own remark; and would be apt to wish
his Miss Howe acquainted with her.
* See Vol.I. Letter X.
Gentleness of heart, surely, is not despicable in a man. Why, if it be,
is the highest distinction a man can arrive at, that of a gentleman?--A
distinction which a prince may not deserve. For manners, more than
birth, fortune, or title, are requisite in this character. Manners are
indeed the essence of it. And shall it be generally said, and Miss Howe
not be an exception to it (as you once wrote), that our sex are best
dealt with by boisterous and unruly spirits?*
* See Vol.II. Letter III.
Forgive me, my dear, and love me as you used to do. For although my
fortunes are changed, my heart is not: Nor ever will, while it bids my
pen tell you, that it must cease to bear, when it is not as much yours
as
Your CL. HARLOWE.