Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 1

by Samuel Richardson

  LETTER XLI

  MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE TUESDAY, MARCH 21.

  How willingly would my dear mother shew kindness to me, were shepermitted! None of this persecution should I labour under, I am sure, ifthat regard were paid to her prudence and fine understanding, which theyso well deserve. Whether owing to her, or to my aunt, or to both, thata new trial was to be made upon me, I cannot tell, but this morning herShorey delivered into my hand the following condescending letter.

  MY DEAR GIRL,

  For so I must still call you; since dear you may be to me, in everysense of the word--we have taken into particular consideration somehints that fell yesterday from your good Norton, as if we had not, atMr. Solmes's first application, treated you with that condescension,wherewith we have in all other instances treated you. If it even hadbeen so, my dear, you were not excusable to be wanting in your part,and to set yourself to oppose your father's will in a point which he hadentered too far, to recede with honour. But all yet may be well. On yoursingle will, my child, depends all our happiness.

  Your father permits me to tell you, that if you now at last comply withhis expectations, all past disobligations shall be buried in oblivion,as if they had never been: but withal, that this is the last time thatthat grace will be offered you.

  I hinted to you, you must remember,* that patterns of the richest silkswere sent for. They are come. And as they are come, your father, to shewhow much he is determined, will have me send them up to you. I couldhave wished they might not have accompanied this letter, but there isnot great matter in that. I must tell you, that your delicacy is notquite so much regarded as I had once thought it deserved to be.

  * See Letter XX.

  These are the newest, as well as richest, that we could procure;answerable to our situation in the world; answerable to the fortune,additional to your grandfather's estate, designed you; and to the noblesettlements agreed upon.

  Your father intends you six suits (three of them dressed suits) at hisown expense. You have an entire new suit; and one besides, which I thinkyou never wore but twice. As the new suit is rich, if you choose tomake that one of the six, your father will present you with an hundredguineas in lieu.

  Mr. Solmes intends to present you with a set of jewels. As you have yourgrandmother's and your own, if you choose to have the former new set,and to make them serve, his present will be made in money; a very roundsum--which will be given in full property to yourself; besides a fineannual allowance for pin-money, as it is called. So that your objectionagainst the spirit of a man you think worse of than it deserves, willhave no weight; but you will be more independent than a wife of lessdiscretion than we attribute to you, perhaps ought to be. You know fullwell, that I, who first and last brought a still larger fortune into thefamily than you will carry to Mr. Solmes, had not a provision made meof near this that we have made for you.--Where people marry to theirliking, terms are the least things stood upon--yet should I be sorry ifyou cannot (to oblige us all) overcome a dislike.

  Wonder not, Clary, that I write to you thus plainly and freely uponthis subject. Your behaviour hitherto has been such, that we have had noopportunity of entering minutely into the subject with you. Yet, afterall that has passed between you and me in conversation, and between youand your uncles by letter, you have no room to doubt what is to be theconsequence.--Either, child, we must give up our authority, or you yourhumour. You cannot expect the one. We have all the reason in the worldto expect the other. You know I have told you more than once, thatyou must resolve to have Mr. Solmes, or never to be looked upon as ourchild.

  The draught of the settlement you may see whenever you will. We thinkthere can be no room for objection to any of the articles. There isstill more in them in our family's favour, than was stipulated at first,when your aunt talked of them to you. More so, indeed, than wecould have asked. If, upon perusal of them, you think any alterationnecessary, it shall be made.--Do, my dear girl, send to me within thisday or two, or rather ask me, for the perusal of them.

  As a certain person's appearance at church so lately, and what he givesout every where, makes us extremely uneasy, and as that uneasiness willcontinue while you are single, you must not wonder that a short dayis intended. This day fortnight we design it to be, if you have noobjection to make that I shall approve of. But if you determine as wewould have you, and signify it to us, we shall not stand with you for aweek or so.

  Your sightlines of person may perhaps make some think this alliancedisparaging. But I hope you will not put such a personal value uponyourself: if you do, it will indeed be the less wonder that personshould weigh with you (however weak the consideration!) in another man.

  Thus we parents, in justice, ought to judge: that our two daughters areequally dear and valuable to us: if so, why should Clarissa think thata disparagement, which Arabella would not (nor we for her) have thoughtany, had the address been made to her?--You will know what I mean bythis, without my explaining myself farther.

  Signify to us, now, therefore, your compliance with our wishes. And thenthere is an end of your confinement. An act of oblivion, as I may callit, shall pass upon all your former refractoriness: and you will oncemore make us happy in you, and in one another. You may, in this case,directly come down to your father and me, in his study; where we willgive you our opinions of the patterns, with our hearty forgiveness andblessings.

  Come, be a good child, as you used to be, my Clarissa. I have(notwithstanding your past behaviour, and the hopelessness which somehave expressed in your compliance) undertaken this one time more foryou. Discredit not my hopes, my dear girl. I have promised never moreto interfere between your father and you, if this my most earnestapplication succeed not. I expect you down, love. Your father expectsyou down. But be sure don't let him see any thing uncheerful in yourcompliance. If you come, I will clasp you to my fond heart, with as muchpleasure as ever I pressed you to it in my whole life. You don't knowwhat I have suffered within these few weeks past; nor ever will be ableto guess, till you come to be in my situation; which is that of a fondand indulgent mother, praying night and day, and struggling to preserve,against the attempts of more ungovernable spirits, the peace and unionof her family.

  But you know the terms. Come not near us, if you have resolve to beundutiful: but this, after what I have written, I hope you cannot be.

  If you come directly, and, as I have said, cheerfully, as if your heartwere in your duty, (and you told me it was free, you know,) I shallthen, as I said, give you the most tender proofs how much I am

  Your truly affectionate Mother.

  ***

  Think for me, my dearest friend, how I must be affected by this letter;the contents of it is so surprisingly terrifying, yet so sweetlyurged!--O why, cried I to myself, am I obliged to undergo thissevere conflict between a command that I cannot obey, and language socondescendingly moving!--Could I have been sure of being struck deadat the alter before the ceremony had given the man I hate a title to myvows, I think I could have submitted to having been led to it. But tothink of living with and living for a man one abhors, what a sad thingis that!

  And then, how could the glare of habit and ornament be supposed anyinducement to one, who has always held, that the principal view of agood wife in the adorning of her person, ought to be, to preserve theaffection of her husband, and to do credit to his choice; and that sheshould be even fearful of attracting the eyes of others?--In this view,must not the very richness of the patterns add to my disgusts?--Greatencouragement, indeed, to think of adorning one's self to be the wife ofMr. Solmes!

  Upon the whole, it was not possible for me to go down upon theprescribed condition. Do you think it was?--And to write, if my letterwould have been read, what could I write that would be admitted, andafter what I had written and said to so little effect?

  I walked backward and forward. I threw down with disdain the patterns.Now to my closet retired I; then quitting it, threw myself upon thesettee; then upon this chair, then upon tha
t; then into one window, theninto another--I knew not what to do!--And while I was in this suspense,having again taken up the letter to re-peruse it, Betty came in,reminding me, by order, that my papa and mamma waited for me in myfather's study.

  Tell my mamma, said I, that I beg the favour of seeing her here for onemoment, or to permit me to attend her any where by herself.

  I listened at the stairs-head--You see, my dear, how it is, criedmy father, very angrily: all your condescension (as your indulgenceheretofore) is thrown away. You blame your son's violence, as you callit [I had some pleasure in hearing this]; but nothing else will do withher. You shall not see her alone. Is my presence an exception to thebold creature?

  Tell her, said my mother to Betty, she knows upon what terms she maycome down to us. Nor will I see her upon any other.

  The maid brought me this answer. I had recourse to my pen and ink; butI trembled so, that I could not write, nor knew what to say, had Isteadier fingers. At last Betty brought me these lines from my father.

  UNDUTIFUL AND PERVERSE CLARISSA,

  No condescension, I see, will move you. Your mother shall not see you;nor will I. Prepare however to obey. You know our pleasure. Your uncleAntony, your brother, and your sister, and your favourite Mrs. Norton,shall see the ceremony performed privately at your uncle's chapel. Andwhen Mr. Solmes can introduce you to us, in the temper we wish to beholdyou in, we may perhaps forgive his wife, although we never can, inany other character, our perverse daughter. As it will be so privatelyperformed, clothes and equipage may be provided for afterwards. Soprepare to go to your uncle's for an early day in next week. We will notsee you till all is over: and we will have it over the sooner, in orderto shorten the time of your deserved confinement, and our own trouble incontending with such a rebel, as you have been of late. I will hear nopleas, I will receive no letter, nor expostulation. Nor shall you hearfrom me any more till you have changed your name to my liking. This from

  Your incensed Father.

  If this resolution be adhered to, then will my father never see memore!--For I will never be the wife of that Solmes--I will die first--!

  TUESDAY EVENING.

  He, this Solmes, came hither soon after I had received my father'sletter. He sent up to beg leave to wait upon me--I wonder at hisassurance--!

  I said to Betty, who brought me this message, let him restore an unhappycreature to her father and mother, and then I may hear what he has tosay. But, if my friends will not see me on his account, I will not seehim upon his own.

  I hope, Miss, said Betty, you will not send me down with this answer. Heis with you papa and mamma.

  I am driven to despair, said I. I cannot be used worse. I will not seehim.

  Down she went with my answer. She pretended, it seems, to be loth torepeat it: so was commanded out of her affected reserves, and gave it inits full force.

  O how I heard my father storm!

  They were altogether, it seems, in his study. My brother was forhaving me turned out of the house that moment, to Lovelace, and my evildestiny. My mother was pleased to put in a gentle word for me: I knownot what it was: but thus she was answered--My dear, this is the mostprovoking thing in the world in a woman of your good sense!--To love arebel, as well as if she were dutiful. What encouragement for dutyis this?--Have I not loved her as well as ever you did? And why am Ichanged! Would to the Lord, your sex knew how to distinguish! It isplain, that she relies upon her power over you. The fond mother evermade a hardened child!

  She was pleased, however, to blame Betty, as the wench owned, for givingmy answer its full force. But my father praised her for it.

  The wench says, that he would have come up in his wrath, at my refusingto see Mr. Solmes, had not my brother and sister prevailed upon him tothe contrary.

  I wish he had!--And, were it not for his own sake, that he had killedme!

  Mr. Solmes condescended [I am mightily obliged to him truly!] to pleadfor me.

  They are all in tumults! How it will end, I know not--I am quite wearyof life--So happy, till within these few weeks!--So miserable now!

  Well, indeed, might my mother say, that I should have severe trials.*

  * See Letter XXV.

  P.S. The idiot [such a one am I treated like!] is begged, as I may say,by my brother and sister. They have desired, that I may be consignedover entirely to their management. If it be granted, [it is granted,on my father's part, I understand, but not yet on my mother's,] whatcruelty may I not expect from their envy, jealousy, and ill-will!--Ishall soon see, by its effects, if I am to be so consigned. This is awritten intimation privately dropt in my wood-house walk, by my cousinDolly Hervey. The dear girl longs to see me, she tells me: but isforbidden till she see me as Mrs. Solmes, or as consenting to be his. Iwill take example by their perseverance!--Indeed I will--!