LETTER XX
MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE
You tell me, my dear, that my clothes and the little sum of money I leftbehind me, will not be sent me.--But I will still hope. It is yet earlydays. When their passions subside, they will better consider of thematter; and especially as I have my ever dear and excellent mother formy friend in this request! O the sweet indulgence! How has my heartbled, and how does it still bleed for her!
You advise me not to depend upon a reconciliation. I do not, I cannotdepend upon it. But nevertheless, it is the wish next my heart. And asto this man, what can I do? You see, that marriage is not absolutely inmy own power, if I were inclined to prefer it to the trial which I thinkI ought to have principally in view to make for a reconciliation.
You say, he is proud and insolent--indeed he is. But can it be youropinion, that he intends to humble me down to the level of his meanpride?
And what mean you, my dear friend, when you say, that I must throw offa little more of the veil?--Indeed I never knew that I wore one. Letme assure you, that if I never see any thing in Mr. Lovelace that lookslike a design to humble me, his insolence shall never make me discover aweakness unworthy of a person distinguished by your friendship; that isto say, unworthy either of my sex, or of my former self.
But I hope, as I am out of all other protection, that he is not capableof mean or low resentments. If he has had any extraordinary trouble onmy account, may he not thank himself for it? He may; and lay it, if hepleases, to his character; which, as I have told him, gave at least apretence to my brother against him. And then, did I ever make him anypromises? Did I ever profess a love for him? Did I ever wish for thecontinuance of his address? Had not my brother's violence precipitatedmatters, would not my indifference to him in all likelihood (as Idesigned it should) have tired out his proud spirit,* and make him setout for London, where he used chiefly to reside? And if he had, wouldnot there have been an end of all his pretensions and hopes? For noencouragement had I given him; nor did I then correspond with him.Nor, believe me, should I have begun to do so--the fatal rencounternot having then happened; which drew me in afterwards for others' sakes(fool that I was!) and not for my own. And can you think, or can he,that even this but temporarily-intended correspondence (which, by theway, my mother* connived at) would have ended thus, had I not beendriven on one hand, and teased on the other, to continue it, theoccasion which had at first induced it continuing? What pretence thenhas he, were I to be absolutely in his power, to avenge himself on mefor the faults of others, and through which I have suffered more thanhe? It cannot, cannot be, that I should have cause to apprehend him tobe so ungenerous, so bad a man.
* See Vol.I. Letter IV.
You bid me not to be concerned at the bickerings between your mother andyou. Can I avoid concern, when those bickerings are on my account? Thatthey are raised (instigated shall I say?) by my uncle, and my otherrelations, surely must add to my concern.
But I must observe, perhaps too critically for the state my mind is inat present, that the very sentences you give from your mother, as in somany imperatives, which you take amiss, are very severe reflections uponyourself. For instance--You shall, I tell you, Nancy, implies that youhad disputed her will--and so of the rest.
And further let me observe, with respect to what you say, that therecannot be the same reason for a prohibition of correspondence with me,as there was of mine with Mr. Lovelace; that I thought as little of badconsequences from my correspondence with him at the time, as you can dofrom yours with me now. But, if obedience be a duty, the breach of it isa fault, however circumstances may differ. Surely there is no merit insetting up our own judgment against the judgments of our parents. Andif it is punishable so to do, I have been severely punished; and that iswhat I warned you of from my own dear experience.
Yet, God forgive me! I advise thus against myself with very greatreluctance: and, to say truth, have not strength of mind, at present, todecline it myself. But, if my occasion go not off, I will take it intofurther consideration.
You give me very good advice in relation to this man; and I thank youfor it. When you bid me be more upon the reserve with him in expressingmy displeasure, perhaps I may try for it: but to palliate, as you callit, that, my dearest Miss Howe, cannot be done, by
Your own, CLARISSA HARLOWE.