LETTER XXXVI
MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE SATURDAY, MARCH 18.
I have been frighted out of my wits--still am in a manner out ofbreath--thus occasioned--I went down, under the usual pretence, inhopes to find something from you. Concerned at my disappointment, I wasreturning from the wood-house, when I heard a rustling as of somebodybehind a stack of wood. I was extremely surprised: but still more, tobehold a man coming from behind the furthermost stack. Oh! thought I, atthat moment, the sin of a prohibited correspondence!
In the same point of time that I saw him, he besought me not to befrighted: and, still nearer approaching me, threw open a horseman'scoat: 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 sawwho it was); for I had no voice: and had I not caught hold of a propwhich supported the old roof, I should have sunk.
I had hitherto, as you know, kept him at a distance: And now, as Irecovered myself, judge of my first emotions, when I recollected hischaracter from every mouth of my family; his enterprising temper; andfound myself alone with him, in a place so near a bye-lane, and soremote from the house.
But his respectful behaviour soon dissipated these fears, and gave meothers; lest we should be seen together, and information of it given tomy 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 pretencefor 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 warmthmy displeasure; and told him, that he cared not how much he exposed meto the resentment of all my friends, provided he could gratify his ownimpetuous 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 himselfto be guilty of this rashness, as I thought it, to avoid one muchgreater:--for, in short, he could not bear the hourly insults hereceived from my family, with the thoughts of having so little interestin my favour, that he could not promise himself that his patience andforbearance would be attended with any other issue than to lose me forever, 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 anaddress he is master of.
He ran on, expressing his apprehensions that a temper so gentle andobliging, as he said mine was, to every body but him, (and a dutifulnessso exemplary inclined me to do my part to others, whether they didtheirs or not by me,) would be wrought upon in favour of a man set up inpart to be revenged upon myself, for my grandfather's envied distinctionof me; and in part to be revenged upon him, for having given life toone, who would have taken his; and now sought to deprive him of hopesdearer to him than life.
I told him, he might be assured, that the severity and ill-usage Imet with would be far from effecting the proposed end: that although Icould, with great sincerity, declare for a single life (which had alwaysbeen my choice); and particularly, that if ever I married, if they wouldnot insist upon the man I had an aversion to, it should not be with theman they disliked--
He interrupted me here: He hoped I would forgive him for it; buthe could not help expressing his great concern, that, after so manyinstances of his passionate and obsequious devotion--
And pray, Sir, said I, let me interrupt you in my turn;--Why don't youassert, in still plainer words, the obligation you have laid me under bythis your boasted devotion? Why don't you let me know, in terms as highas your implication, that a perseverance I have not wished for, whichhas set all my relations at variance with me, is a merit that throwsupon me the guilt of ingratitude for not having answered it as you seemto expect?
I must forgive him, he said, if he, who pretended only to a comparativemerit, (and otherwise thought no man living could deserve me,) hadpresumed to hope for a greater share in my favour, than he had hithertomet with, when such men as Mr. Symmes, Mr. Wyerley, and now, lastly, sovile a reptile as this Solmes, however discouraged by myself, were madehis competitors. As to the perseverance I mentioned, it was impossiblefor him not to persevere: but I must needs know, that were he not inbeing, the terms Solmes had proposed were such, as would have involvedme 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 fromincreasing those difficulties, would be the readiest way to extricate mefrom 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 werewell apprized besides of the difference between the two; one, whom theyhoped to manage as they pleased; the other, who could and would protectme from every insult; and who had natural prospects much superior to mybrother'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 ofwhat he had to say.
As he hoped, that I would one day make him the happiest man in theworld, he assured me, that he had so much regard for my fame, that hewould be as far from advising any step that was likely to cast a shadeupon my reputation, (although that step was to be ever so much in hisown favour,) as I would be to follow such advice. But since I was notto 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 myinclinations--my father so jealous of his authority: both my uncles inmy father's way of thinking: my cousin Morden at a distance: my uncleand aunt Hervey awed into insignificance, was his word: my brother andsister inflaming every one: Solmes's offers captivating: Miss Howe'smother rather of a party with them, for motives respecting example toher own daughter.
And then he asked me, if I would receive a letter from Lady BettyLawrance, on this occasion: for Lady Sarah Sadleir, he said, havinglately lost her only child, hardly looked into the world, or thought ofit farther than to wish him married, and, preferably to all the women inthe world, with me.
To be sure, my dear, there is a great deal in what the man said--I maybe allowed to say this, without an imputed glow or throb. But I toldhim nevertheless, that although I had great honour for the ladies hewas related to, yet I should not choose to receive a letter on a subjectthat had a tendency to promote an end I was far from intending topromote: that it became me, ill as I was treated at present, to hopeevery thing, to bear every thing, and to try ever thing: when my fathersaw 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:--Theirengaging Mrs. Howe against me, in the first place, as a person I mighthave thought to fly to, if pushed to desperation--my brother continuallybuzzing in my father's ears, that my cousin Morden would soon arrive,and then would insist upon giving me possession of my grandfather'sestate, in pursuance of the will; which would render me independentof my father--their disgraceful confinement of me--their dismissing sosuddenly my servant, and setting my sister's over me--their engaging mymother, contrary to her own judgment, against me: these, he said, wereall so many flagrant proofs that they would stick at nothing to carrytheir point; and were what made him inexpressibly uneasy.
He appealed to me, whether ever I knew my father recede from anyresolution he had once fixed; especially, if he thought eitherhis prerogative, or his authority concerned in the question. Hisacquaintance with our family, he said, enabled him to give severalinstances (but they would be too grating to me) of an arbitrarinessthat had few examples even in the families of princes: an arbitrariness,which the most excellent of women, my mother, too severely ex
perienced.He was proceeding, as I thought, with reflections of this sort; and Iangrily told him, I would not permit my father to be reflected upon;adding, that his severity to me, however unmerited, was not a warrantfor me to dispense with my duty to him.
He had no pleasure, he said, in urging any thing that could be soconstrued; for, however well warranted he was to make such reflectionsfrom the provocations they were continually giving him, he knew howoffensive to me any liberties of this sort would be. And yet he mustown, that it was painful to him, who had youth and passions to beallowed for, as well as others, and who had always valued himself underspeaking his mind, to curb himself, under such treatment. Nevertheless,his consideration for me would make him confine himself, in hisobservations, to facts that were too flagrant, and too openly avowed, tobe disputed. It could not therefore justly displease, he would ventureto say, if he made this natural inference from the premises, Thatif such were my father's behaviour to a wife, who disputed not theimaginary prerogatives he was so unprecedently fond of asserting, whatroom had a daughter to hope, that he would depart from anauthority he was so earnest, and so much more concerned, tomaintain?--Family-interests at the same time engaging; an aversion,however causelessly conceived, stimulating my brother's and sister'sresentments and selfish views cooperating; and my banishment from theirpresence depriving me of all personal plea or entreaty in my own favour.
How unhappy, my dear, that there is but too much reason for theseobservations, and for this inference; made, likewise, with more coolnessand respect to my family than one would have apprehended from a manso much provoked, and of passions so high, and generally thoughtuncontroulable!
Will you not question me about throbs and glows, if from such instancesof 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 beaffected by arguments apparently calculated for his present and futuregood! Nor is it a very bad indication, that he has such moderate notionsof that very high prerogative in husbands, of which we in our familyhave been accustomed to hear so much.
He represented to me, that my present disgraceful confinement was knownto all the world: that neither my sister nor my brother scrupled torepresent me as an obliged and favoured child in a state of actualrebellion. That, nevertheless, every body who knew me was ready tojustify me for an aversion to a man whom every body thought utterlyunworthy 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 hisfavour, all the world gave me to him. Nor was there but one objectionmade to him by his very enemies (his birth, his prospects all veryunexceptionable, and the latter splendid); and that objection, hethanked God, and my example, was in a fair way of being removed forever: since he had seen his error, and was heartily sick of the courseshe had followed; which, however, were far less enormous than malice andenvy had represented them to be. But of this he should say the less, asit were much better to justify himself by his actions, than by the mostsolemn asseverations and promises. And then, complimenting my person,he assured me (for that he always loved virtue, although he had notfollowed its rules as he ought) that he was still more captivated withthe graces of my mind: and would frankly own, that till he had thehonour to know me, he had never met with an inducement sufficient toenable him to overcome an unhappy kind of prejudice to matrimony; whichhad made him before impenetrable to the wishes and recommendations ofall his relations.
You see, my dear, he scruples not to speak of himself, as his enemiesspeak of him. I can't say, but his openness in these particulars givesa credit to his other professions. I should easily, I think, detectan hypocrite: and this man particularly, who is said to have allowedhimself in great liberties, were he to pretend to instantaneous lightsand convictions--at this time of life too. Habits, I am sensible, arenot so easily changed. You have always joined with me in remarking, thathe will speak his mind with freedom, even to a degree of unpolitenesssometimes; and that his very treatment of my family is a proof that hecannot make a mean court to any body for interest sake--What pity, wherethere are such laudable traces, that they should have been so mired, andchoaked up, as I may say!--We have heard, that the man's head is betterthan his heart: But do you really think Mr. Lovelace can have a very badheart? Why should not there be something in blood in the humancreature, as well as in the ignobler animals? None of his family areexceptionable--but himself, indeed. The characters of the ladies areadmirable. But I shall incur the imputation I wish to avoid. Yet what alook of censoriousness does it carry in an unsparing friend, to take oneto task for doing that justice, and making those which one ought withoutscruple 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 fromLady Betty. He said, that people of birth stood a little too much uponpunctilio; as people of value also did (but indeed birth, worthily livedup to, was virtue: virtue, birth; the inducements to a decent punctiliothe 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 firstapprized that her offer will be well received--as it would have theappearance of being made against the liking of one part of my family;and which nothing would induce her to make, but the degree of unworthypersecution which I actually laboured under, and had reason further toapprehend.
I told him, that, however greatly I thought myself obliged to Lady BettyLawrance, if this offer came from herself; yet it was easy to see towhat it led. It might look like vanity in me perhaps to say, that thisurgency in him, on this occasion, wore the face of art, in order toengage 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 royaltitle. Goodness, I thought, was greatness. That the excellent charactersof the ladies of his family weighed more with me, than the considerationthat they were half-sisters to Lord M. and daughters of an earl: thathe would not have found encouragement from me, had my friends beenconsenting to his address, if he had only a mere relative merit to thoseladies: 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 foundmyself drawn into an epistolary correspondence with him; especiallysince that correspondence had been prohibited: and the only agreeableuse I could think of making of this unexpected and undesired interview,was, to let him know, that I should from henceforth think myself obligedto discontinue it. And I hoped, that he would not have the thought ofengaging me to carry it on by menacing my relations.
There was light enough to distinguish, that he looked very grave uponthis. He so much valued my free choice, he said, and my unbiassedfavour, (scorning to set himself upon a footing with Solmes in thecompulsory methods used in that man's behalf,) that he should hatehimself, were he capable of a view of intimidating me by so very poora method. But, nevertheless, there were two things to be considered:First, that the continual outrages he was treated with; the spies setover him, one of which he had detected; the indignities all his familywere likewise treated with;--as also, myself; avowedly in malice to him,or he should not presume to take upon himself to resent for me, withoutmy leave [the artful wretch saw he would have lain open here, had he notthus guarded]--all these considerations called upon him to shew a properresentment: and he would leave it to me to judge, whether it would bereasonable for him, as a man of spirit, to bear such insults, if itwere 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 mywhole family determined to compel me to marry a man unworthy of me, andthat speedily, and whether I consented or not,) admitted of delay in thepreventive measures he was desirous to put me upon, in the last resortonly. Nor was there a necessity, he said, if I were actually in LadyBetty's protection, that I should be his, if, afterwards, I should seeany thing objectionable in his conduct.
But what would the world conclude would be th
e end, I demanded, were I,in the last resort, as he proposed, to throw myself into the protectionof 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 wasconfined that I might not? You are to consider, Madam, you have not nowan option; and to whom is it owing that you have not; and that youare in the power of those (parents, why should I call them?) who aredetermined, that you shall not have an option. All I propose is, thatyou will embrace such a protection--but not till you have tried everyway, to avoid the necessity for it.
And give me leave to say, proceeded he, that if a correspondence, onwhich I have founded all my hopes, is, at this critical conjuncture, tobe broken off; and if you are resolved not to be provided against theworst; it must be plain to me, that you will at last yield to thatworst--worst to me only--it cannot be to you--and then! [and he put hishand clenched to his forehead] How shall I bear this supposition?--Thenwill you be that Solmes's!--But, by all that's sacred, neither he, noryour brother, nor your uncles, shall enjoy their triumph--Perditionseize my soul, if they shall!
The man's vehemence frightened me: yet, in resentment, I would haveleft him; but, throwing himself at my feet again, Leave me not thus--Ibeseech 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 wayof menace, or to intimidate you to favour me. If your heart inclinesyou [and then he arose] to obey your father (your brother rather) and tohave Solmes; although I shall avenge myself on those who have insultedme, for their insults to myself and family, yet will I tear out my heartfrom this bosom (if possible with my own hands) were it to scruple togive 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 mightassure himself that I never would have Mr. Solmes, (yet that this I saidnot in favour to him,) and I had declared as much to my relations, werethere not such a man as himself in the world.
Would I declare, that I would still honour him with mycorrespondence?--He could not bear, that, hoping to obtain greaterinstances of my favour, he should forfeit the only one he had to boastof.
I bid him forbear rashness or resentment to any of my family, and Iwould, for some time at least, till I saw what issue my present trialswere likely to have, proceed with a correspondence, which, nevertheless,my heart condemned--
And his spirit him, the impatient creature said, interrupting me, forbearing what he did; when he considered, that the necessity of it wasimposed 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 indifferentcharacter, 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 valueupon his reputation.
He offered to vindicate himself. But I told him, I would judge him byhis own rule--by his actions, not by his professions.
Were not his enemies, he said, so powerful, and so determined; and hadthey not already shewn their intentions in such high acts of even cruelcompulsion; but would leave me to my choice, or to my desire of livingsingle; he would have been content to undergo a twelvemonth's probation,or more: but he was confident, that one month would either complete alltheir purposes, or render them abortive: and I best knew what hopes Ihad 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 influenceupon any of them should suggest, before I would put myself into anyother protection: and, if nothing else would do, would resign the enviedestate; and that I dared to say would.
He was contented, he said, to abide that issue. He should be far fromwishing me to embrace any other protection, but, as he had frequentlysaid, in the last necessity. But dearest creature, said he, catchingmy hand with ardour, and pressing it to his lips, if the yielding upof 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 toobtain belief, and a power over one?
I made many efforts to go; and now it was so dark, that I began to havegreat apprehensions. I cannot say from his behaviour: indeed, he has agood deal raised himself in my opinion by the personal respect, even toreverence, which he paid me during the whole conference: for, althoughhe flamed out once, upon a supposition that Solmes might succeed, it wasupon a supposition that would excuse passion, if any thing could, youknow, in a man pretending to love with fervour; although it was solevelled, 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 withme; although he hinted his wishes for another meeting: which I forbadhim 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 hisarguments (drawn from the disgraceful treatment I meet with) of whatI am to expect, make me begin to apprehend that I shall be under anobligation to be either the one man's or the other's--and, if so, Ifancy I shall not incur your blame, were I to say which of the two itmust be: you have said, which it must not be. But, O my dear, the singlelife is by far the most eligible to me: indeed it is. And I hope yet tobe permitted to make that option.
I got back without observation; but the apprehension that I shouldnot, gave me great uneasiness; and made me begin a letter in a greaterflutter 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 faintednot away.
I should add, that having reproached him with his behaviour the lastSunday at church, he solemnly assured me, that it was not what had beenrepresented to me: that he did not expect to see me there: but hoped tohave an opportunity to address himself to my father, and to be permittedto attend him home. But that the good Dr. Lewen had persuaded him notto attempt speaking to any of the family, at that time; observing to himthe emotions into which his presence had put every body. He intendedno pride, or haughtiness of behaviour, he assured me; and that theattributing such to him was the effect of that ill-will which he hadthe mortification to find insuperable: adding, that when he bowed to mymother, it was a compliment he intended generally to every one in thepew, as well as to her, whom he sincerely venerated.
If he may be believed, (and I should think he would not have comepurposely to defy my family, yet expect favour from me,) one may see,my dear, the force of hatred, which misrepresents all things. Yet whyshould Shorey (except officiously to please her principals) make areport in his disfavour? He told me, that he would appeal to Dr. Lewenfor his justification on this head; adding, that the whole conversationbetween the Doctor and him turned upon his desire to attempt toreconcile himself to us all, in the face of the church; and uponthe Doctor's endeavouring to dissuade him from making such a publicoverture, till he knew how it would be accepted. But to what purposehis appeal, when I am debarred from seeing that good man, or any one whowould advise me what to do in my present difficult situation!
I fancy, my dear, however, that there would hardly be a guilty person inthe world, were each suspected or accused person to tell his or her ownstory, and be allowed any degree of credit.
I have written a very long letter.
To be so particular as you require in subjects of conversation, it isimpossible to be short.
I will add to it only the assurance, That I am, and ever will be,
Your affectionate and faithful friend and servant, CLARISSA HARLOWE.
You'll be so good, my dear, as to remember, that the date of your lastletter to me was the 9th.
Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 1 Page 44