LETTER XXXIII
MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE THURSDAY, MARCH 16.
Having met with such bad success in my application to my relations, Ihave taken a step that will surprise you. It is no other than writinga letter to Mr. Solmes himself. I sent it, and have his answer. He hadcertainly help in it. For I have seen a letter of his, and indifferentlyworded, as poorly spelt. Yet the superscription is of his dictating,I dare say, for he is a formal wretch. With these, I shall enclose onefrom my brother to me, on occasion of mine to Mr. Solmes. I did thinkthat it was possible to discourage the man from proceeding; and if Icould have done that, it would have answered all my wishes. It was worththe trial. But you'll see nothing will do. My brother has taken hismeasures too securely.
TO ROGER SOLMES, ESQ. WEDNESDAY, MARCH 15.
SIR,
You will wonder to receive a letter from me; and more still at theuncommon subject of it. But the necessity of the case will justify me,at least in my own apprehension; and I shall therefore make no otherapology for it.
When you first came acquainted with our family, you found the writer ofthis one of the happiest creatures in the world; beloved by the bestand most indulgent of parents; and rejoicing in the kind favour of twoaffectionate uncles, and in the esteem of every one.
But how is this scene now changed!--You was pleased to cast a favourableeye upon me. You addressed yourself to my friends: your proposals wereapproved of by them--approved of without consulting me; as if my choiceand happiness were of the least signification. Those who had a right toall reasonable obedience from me, insisted upon it without reserve.I had not the felicity to think as they did; almost the first time mysentiments differed from theirs. I besought them to indulge me in apoint so important to my future happiness: but, alas, in vain! And then(for I thought it was but honest) I told you my mind; and even thatmy affections were engaged. But, to my mortification and surprise, youpersisted, and still persist.
The consequence of all is too grievous for me to repeat: you, who havesuch free access to the rest of the family, know it too well--too wellyou know it, either for the credit of your own generosity, or for myreputation. I am used, on your account, as I never before was used, andnever before was thought to deserve to be used; and this was the hard,the impossible, condition of their returning favour, that I must prefera man to all others, that of all others I cannot prefer.
Thus distressed, and made unhappy, and all to your sake, and throughyour cruel perseverance, I write, Sir, to demand of you the peace ofmind you have robbed me of: to demand of you the love of so many dearfriends, of which you have deprived me; and, if you have the generositythat should distinguish a man, and a gentleman, to adjure you not tocontinue an address that has been attended with such cruel effects tothe creature you profess to esteem.
If you really value me, as my friends would make me believe, and as youhave declared you do, must it not be a mean and selfish value? A valuethat can have no merit with the unhappy object of it, because it isattended with effects so grievous to her? It must be for your own sakeonly, not for mine. And even in this point you must be mistaken: For,would a prudent man wish to marry one who has not a heart to give? Whocannot esteem him? Who therefore must prove a bad wife!--And how cruelwould it be to make a poor creature a bad wife, whose pride it would beto make a good one!
If I am capable of judging, our tempers and inclinations are vastlydifferent. Any other of my sex will make you happier than I can. Thetreatment I meet with, and the obstinacy, as it is called, with which Isupport myself under it, ought to convince you of this; were I not ableto give so good a reason for this my supposed perverseness, as that Icannot consent to marry a man whom I cannot value.
But if, Sir, you have not so much generosity in your value for me, asto desist for my own sake, let me conjure you, by the regard due toyourself, and to your own future happiness, to discontinue your suit,and place your affections on a worthier object: for why should you makeme miserable, and yourself not happy? By this means you will do all thatis now in your power to restore to me the affection of my friends; and,if that can be, it will leave me in as happy a state as you found mein. You need only to say, that you see there are no HOPES, as you willperhaps complaisantly call it, of succeeding with me [and indeed, Sir,there cannot be a greater truth]; and that you will therefore no morethink of me, but turn your thoughts another way.
Your compliance with this request will lay me under the highestobligation to your generosity, and make me ever
Your well-wisher, and humble servant, CLARISSA HARLOWE.
Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 1 Page 40