LETTER X
MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE FRIDAY NIGHT, MARCH 24.
I have a most provoking letter from my sister. I might have supposed shewould resent the contempt she brought upon herself in my chamber. Herconduct surely can only be accounted for by the rage instigate by asupposed rivalry.
TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE
I am to tell you, that your mother has begged you off for the morrow:but that you have effectually done your business with her, as well aswith every body else.
In your proposals and letter to your brother, you have shewn yourself sosilly, and so wise; so young, and so old; so gentle, and so obstinate;so meek, and so violent; that never was there so mixed a character.
We all know of whom you have borrowed this new spirit. And yet the seedsof it must be in your heart, or it could not all at once shew itself sorampant. It would be doing Mr. Solmes a spite to wish him such a shy,un-shy girl; another of your contradictory qualities--I leave you tomake out what I mean by it.
Here, Miss, your mother will not let you remain: she cannot have anypeace of mind while such a rebel of a child is so near her. Your auntHervey will not take a charge which all the family put together cannotmanage. Your uncle Harlowe will not see you at his house, till you aremarried. So, thanks to your own stubbornness, you have nobody that willreceive you but your uncle Antony. Thither you must go in a veryfew days; and, when there, your brother will settle with you, in mypresence, all that relates to your modest challenge; for it is accepted,I assure you. Dr. Lewen will possibly be there, since you make choice ofhim. Another gentleman likewise, were it but to convince you, that he isanother sort of man than you have taken him to be. Your two uncleswill possibly be there too, to see that the poor, weak, and defencelesssister has fair play. So, you see, Miss, what company your smartchallenge will draw together.
Prepare for the day. You'll soon be called upon. Adieu, Mamma Norton'ssweet child!
ARAB. HARLOWE.
*****
I transcribed this letter, and sent it to my mother, with these lines:
A very few words, my ever-honoured Mamma!
If my sister wrote the enclosed by my father's direction, or yours, Imust submit to the usage she gave me in it, with this only observation,That it is short of the personal treatment I have received from her.If it be of her own head--why then, Madam--But I knew that when I wasbanished from your presence--Yet, till I know if she has or has notauthority for this usage, I will only write further, that I am
Your very unhappy child, CL. HARLOWE.
*****
This answer I received in an open slip of paper; but it was wet in oneplace. I kissed the place; for I am sure it was blistered, as I maysay, by a mother's tear!--She must (I hope she must) have written itreluctantly.
To apply for protection, where authority is defied, is bold. Yoursister, who would not in your circumstances have been guilty of yourperverseness, may allowably be angry at you for it. However, we havetold her to moderate her zeal for our insulted authority. See, if youcan deserve another behaviour, than that you complain of: which cannot,however be so grievous to you, as the cause of it is to
Your more unhappy Mother.
How often must I forbid you any address to me!
*****
Give me, my dearest Miss Howe, your opinion, what I can, what I oughtto do. Not what you would do (pushed as I am pushed) in resentment orpassion--since, so instigated, you tell me, that you should have beenwith somebody before now--and steps taken in passion hardly ever failof giving cause for repentance: but acquaint me with what you thinkcool judgment, and after-reflection, whatever were to be the event, willjustify.
I doubt not your sympathizing love: but yet you cannot possibly feelindignity and persecution so very sensibly as the immediate suffererfeels them--are fitter therefore to advise me, than I am myself.
I will here rest my cause. Have I, or have I not, suffered or borneenough? And if they will still persevere; if that strange persisteragainst an antipathy so strongly avowed, will still persist; say, Whatcan I do?--What course pursue?--Shall I fly to London, and endeavour tohide myself from Lovelace, as well as from all my own relations, tillmy cousin Morden arrives? Or shall I embark for Leghorn in my way to mycousin? Yet, my sex, my youth, considered, how full of danger is thislast measure!--And may not my cousin be set out for England, while Iam getting thither?--What can I do?--Tell me, tell me, my dearest MissHowe, [for I dare not trust myself,] tell me, what I can do.
ELEVEN O'CLOCK AT NIGHT.
I have been forced to try to compose my angry passions at myharpsichord; having first shut close my doors and windows, that I mightnot be heard below. As I was closing the shutters of the windows, thedistant whooting of the bird of Minerva, as from the often-visitedwoodhouse, gave the subject in that charming Ode to Wisdom, which doeshonour to our sex, as it was written by one of it. I made an essay, aweek ago, to set the three last stanzas of it, as not unsuitable to myunhappy situation; and after I had re-perused the Ode, those weremy lesson; and, I am sure, in the solemn address they contain to theAll-Wise and All-powerful Deity, my heart went with my fingers.
I enclose the Ode, and my effort with it. The subject is solemn; mycircumstances are affecting; and I flatter myself, that I have not beenquite unhappy in the performance. If it obtain your approbation, I shallbe out of doubt, and should be still more assured, could I hear it triedby your voice and finger.