Read Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 3 Page 3


  LETTER II.

  MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE. TUESDAY NIGHT.

  I think myself obliged to thank you, my dear Miss Howe, for yourcondescension, in taking notice of a creature who has occasioned you somuch scandal.

  I am grieved on this account, as much, I verily think, as for the evilitself.

  Tell me--but yet I am afraid to know--what your mother said.

  I long, and yet I dread, to be told, what the young ladies mycompanions, now never more perhaps to be so, say of me.

  They cannot, however, say worse of me than I will of myself. Selfaccusation shall flow in every line of my narrative where I think I amjustly censurable. If any thing can arise from the account I am going togive you, for extenuation of my fault (for that is all a person canhope for, who cannot excuse herself) I know I may expect it from yourfriendship, though not from the charity of any other: since by this timeI doubt not every mouth is opened against me; and all that know ClarissaHarlowe condemn the fugitive daughter.

  After I had deposited my letter to you, written down to the last hour,as I may say, I returned to the ivy summer-house; first taking back myletter from the loose bricks: and there I endeavoured, as coolly as mysituation would permit, to recollect and lay together several incidentsthat had passed between my aunt and me; and, comparing them with some ofthe contents of my cousin Dolly's letter, I began to hope, that I needednot to be so very apprehensive as I have been of next Wednesday. Andthus I argued with myself.

  'Wednesday cannot possibly be the day they intend, although tointimidate me they may wish me to think it is: for the settlements areunsigned: nor have they been offered me to sign. I can choose whether Iwill or will not put my hand to them; hard as it will be to refuse if myfather and mother propose, if I made compulsion necessary, to go to myuncle's themselves in order to be out of the way of my appeals? Whereasthey intend to be present on Wednesday. And, however affecting to me thethought of meeting them and all my friends in full assembly is, perhapsit is the very thing I ought to wish for: since my brother and sisterhad such an opinion of my interest in them, that they got me excludedfrom their presence, as a measure which they thought previouslynecessary to carry on their designs.

  'Nor have I reason to doubt, but that (as I had before argued withmyself) I shall be able to bring over some of my relations to my party;and, being brought face to face with my brother, that I shall expose hismalevolence, and of consequence weaken his power.

  'Then supposing the very worst, challenging the minister as I shallchallenge him, he will not presume to proceed: nor surely will Mr.Solmes dare to accept my refusing and struggling hand. And finally,if nothing else will do, nor procure me delay, I can plead scruples ofconscience, and even pretend prior obligation; for, my dear, I have giveMr. Lovelace room to hope (as you will see in one of my letters in yourhands) that I will be no other man's while he is single, and gives menot wilful and premeditated cause of offence against him; and this inorder to rein-in his resentment on the declared animosity of my brotherand uncles to him. And as I shall appeal, or refer my scruples on thishead, to the good Dr. Lewen, it is impossible but that my mother andaunt (if nobody else) must be affected with this plea.'

  Revolving cursorily these things, I congratulated myself, that I hadresolved against going away with Mr. Lovelace.

  I told you, my dear, that I would not spare myself: and I enumeratethese particulars as so many arguments to condemn the actions I havebeen so unhappily betrayed into. An argument that concludes against mewith the greater force, as I must acknowledge, that I was apprehensive,that what my cousin Dolly mentions as from Betty, and from my sister whotold her, that she should tell me, in order to make me desperate, andperhaps to push me upon some such step as I have been driven to take, asthe most effectual means to ruin me with my father and uncles.

  God forgive me, if I judge too harshly of their views!--But if I do not,it follows, that they laid a wicked snare for me; and that I have beencaught in it.--And now they triumph, if they can triumph, in the ruin ofa sister, who never wished or intended to hurt them!

  As the above kind of reasoning had lessened my apprehensions as to theWednesday, it added to those I had of meeting Mr. Lovelace--now, as itseemed, not only the nearest, but the heaviest evil; principally indeedbecause nearest; for little did I dream (foolish creature that Iwas, and every way beset!) of the event proving what it has proved. Iexpected a contention with him, 'tis true, as he had not my letter: butI thought it would be very strange, as I mentioned in one of my former,*if I, who had so steadily held out against characters so venerable,against authorities so sacred, as I may say, when I thought themunreasonably exerted, should not find myself more equal to such a trialas this; especially as I had so much reason to be displeased with himfor not having taken away my letter.

  On what a point of time may one's worldly happiness depend! Had I buttwo hours more to consider of the matter, and to attend to and improveupon these new lights, as I may call them--but even then, perhaps, Imight have given him a meeting.--Fool that I was! what had I to do togive him hope that I would personally acquaint him with the reason formy change of mind, if I did change it?

  O my dear! an obliging temper is a very dangerous temper!--Byendeavouring to gratify others, it is evermore disobliging itself!

  When the bell rang to call the servants to dinner, Betty came to meand asked, if I had any commands before she went to hers; repeatingher hint, that she should be employed; adding, that she believed it wasexpected that I should not come up till she came down, or till I saw myaunt or Miss Hervey.

  I asked her some questions about the cascade, which had been out oforder, and lately mended; and expressed a curiosity to see how itplayed, in order to induce her [how cunning to cheat myself, as itproved!] to go thither, if she found me not where she left me; it beinga part of the garden most distant from the ivy summer-house.

  She could hardly have got into the house when I heard the firstsignal--O how my heart fluttered!--but no time was to be lost. Istept to the garden-door; and seeing a clear coast, unbolted thealready-unlocked door--and there was he, all impatience, waiting for me.

  A panic next to fainting seized me when I saw him. My heart seemedconvulsed; and I trembled so, that I should hardly have kept my feet,had he not supported me.

  Fear nothing, dearest creature, said he--let us hasten away--the chariotis at hand--and, by this sweet condescension, you have obliged me beyondexpression or return.

  Recovering my spirits a little, as he kept drawing me after him, O Mr.Lovelace, said I, I cannot go with you--indeed I cannot--I wrote youword so--let go my hand, and you shall see my letter. It is lain therefrom yesterday morning, till within this half-hour. I bid you watch tothe last for a letter from me, lest I should be obliged to revoke theappointment; and, had you followed the direction, you would have foundit.

  I have been watched, my dearest life, said he, half out of breath--Ihave been watched in every step I took: and my trusty servant has beenwatched too, ever since Saturday; and dared not to come near yourwall. And here we shall be discovered in a moment.--Speed away, mycharmer--this is the moment of your deliverance--if you neglect thisopportunity, you can never have such another.

  What is it you mean, Sir?--Let go my hand: for I tell you [strugglingvehemently] that I will sooner die than go with you.

  Good God! said he, with a look of wildness and surprise, what is it Ihear?--But [still drawing me after him, as he retreated farther from thedoor] it is no time to argue--by all that's good you must go--surely youcannot doubt my honour, nor give me cause to question your own.

  As you value me, Mr. Lovelace, urge me no farther. I come fixed andresolved. Let me give you the letter I have written. My further reasonsshall follow; and they will convince you that I ought not to go.

  Nothing, Madam, can convince me--by all that's sacred, I will not leaveyou. To leave you now, would be to lose you for ever--

  Am I to be thus compelled? interrupted I, with equal indignation andveh
emence.--Let go my hands--I am resolved not to go with you--and Iwill convince you that I ought not.

  All my friends expect you, Madam--all your own are determined againstyou--Wednesday next is the day, the important, perhaps the fatal day!Would you stay to be Solmes's wife?--Can this be your determination atlast?

  No, never, never will I be that man's--But I will not go with you! [drawme not thus--How dare you, Sir? I would not have seen you, but to tellyou so]. I had not met you, but for fear you would have been guilty ofsome rashness--and, once more, I will not go--What mean you?--strivingwith all my force to get from him.

  What can have possessed my angel, said he [quitting my hands, and with agentler voice] that after so much ill-usage from your relations; vows sosolemn on my part; an affection so ardent; you stab me with a refusal tostand by your own appointment?

  We have no time to talk, Mr. Lovelace. I will give you my reasons at abetter opportunity. I cannot go with you now--and once more urge me nofarther--surely, I am not to be compelled by every body!

  I see how it is, said he, with a dejected but passionate air--What asevere fate is mine!--At length your spirit is subdued!--Your brotherand sister have prevailed; and I must give up all my hopes to a wretchso truly despicable--

  Once more I tell you, interrupted I, I never will be his--all may end onWednesday differently from what you expect--

  And it may not!--And then, good heavens!

  It is to be their last effort, as I have reason to believe--

  And I have reason to believe so too--since if you stay, you willinevitably be Solmes's wife.

  Not so, interrupted I--I have obliged them in one point. They will bein good-humour with me. I shall gain time at least. I am sure I shall. Ihave several ways to gain time.

  And what, Madam, will gaining time do? It is plain you have not ahope beyond that--it is plain you have not, by putting all upon thatprecarious issue. O my dearest, dearest life, let me beseech you notto run a risque of this consequence. I can convince you that it will bemore than a risque if you go back, that you will on Wednesday next beSolmes's wife.--Prevent, therefore, now that it is in your power toprevent, the fatal mischief that will follow such a dreadful certainty.

  While I have any room for hope, it concerns your honour, Mr. Lovelace,as well as mine, (if you have the value for me you pretend, and wish meto believe you,) that my conduct in this great point should justify myprudence.

  Your prudence, Madam! When has that been questionable? Yet what steadhas either your prudence or your duty stood you in, with people sostrangely determined?

  And then he pathetically enumerated the different instances of the harshtreatment I had met with; imputing all to the malice and caprice of abrother, who set every body against him: and insisting, that I had noother way to bring about a reconciliation with my father and uncles,than by putting myself out of the power of my brother's inveteratemalice.

  Your brother's whole reliance, proceeded he, has been upon your easinessto bear his insults. Your whole family will seek to you, when you havefreed yourself from this disgraceful oppression. When they know you arewith those who can and will right you, they will give up to you your ownestate. Why then, putting his arms around me, and again drawing mewith a gentle force after him, do you hesitate a moment?--Now is thetime--Fly with me, then, I beseech you, my dearest creature! Trustyour persecuted adorer. Have we not suffered in the same cause? If anyimputations are cast upon you, give me the honour (as I shall be foundto deserve it) to call you mine; and, when you are so, shall I not beable to protect both your person and character?

  Urge me no more, Mr. Lovelace, I conjure you. You yourself have givenme a hint, which I will speak plainer to, than prudence, perhaps, on anyother occasion, would allow. I am convinced, that Wednesday next (if Ihad time I would give you my reasons) is not intended to be the day wehad both so much dreaded: and if after that day shall be over, I find myfriends determined in Mr. Solmes's favour, I will then contrive someway to meet you with Miss Howe, who is not your enemy: and when thesolemnity has passed, I shall think that step a duty, which till thenwill be criminal to take: since now my father's authority is unimpeachedby any greater.

  Dearest Madam--

  Nay, Mr. Lovelace, if you now dispute--if, after this more favourabledeclaration, than I had the thought of making, you are not satisfied, Ishall know what to think both of your gratitude and generosity.

  The case, Madam, admits not of this alternative. I am all gratitude uponit. I cannot express how much I should be delighted with the charminghope you have given me, were you not next Wednesday, if you stay, tobe another man's. Think, dearest creature! what an heightening of myanguish the distant hope you bid me look up to is, taken in this light!

  Depend, depend upon it, I will die sooner than be Mr. Solmes's. If youwould have me rely upon your honour, why should you doubt of mine?

  I doubt not your honour, Madam; your power is all I doubt. You never,never can have such another opportunity.--Dearest creature, permitme--and he was again drawing me after him.

  Whither, Sir, do you draw me?--Leave me this moment--Do you seek to keepme till my return shall grow dangerous or impracticable? This moment letme go, if you would have me think tolerably of you.

  My happiness, Madam, both here and hereafter, and the safety of all yourimplacable family, depend upon this moment.

  To Providence, Mr. Lovelace, and to the law, will I leave the safetyof my friends. You shall not threaten me into a rashness that my heartcondemns!--Shall I, to promote your happiness, as you call it, dependupon future peace of mind?

  You trifle with me, my dear life, just as our better prospects begin toopen. The way is clear; just now it is clear; but you may be preventedin a moment. What is it you doubt?--May I perish eternally, if yourwill shall not be a law to me in every thing! All my relations expectyou.--Next Wednesday!--Dearest creature! think of next Wednesday!--Andto what is it I urge you, but to take a step that sooner than any otherwill reconcile you to all whom you have most reason to value in yourfamily?

  Let my judge for myself, Sir. Do not you, who blame my friends forendeavouring to compel me, yourself seek to compel. I won't bear it.Your earnestness gives me greater apprehensions, and greater reluctance.Let me go back, then--let me, before it is too late, go back, that itmay not be worse for both--What mean you by this forcible treatment? Isit thus that I am to judge of the entire submission to my will which youhave so often vowed?--Unhand me this moment, or I will cry out for help.

  I will obey you, my dearest creature!--And quitted my hand with a lookfull of tender despondency, that, knowing the violence of his temper,half-concerned me for him. Yet I was hastening from him, when, with asolemn air, looking upon his sword, but catching, as it were, his handfrom it, he folded both his arms, as if a sudden thought had recoveredhim from an intended rashness.

  Stay, one moment--but one moment stay, O best beloved of my soul!--Yourretreat is secure, if you will go: the key lies at the door.--But,O Madam, next Wednesday, and you are Mr. Solmes's!--Fly me not soeagerly--hear me but a few words.

  When near the garden-door, I stopped; and was the more satisfied, asI saw the key there, by which I could let myself in again at pleasure.But, being uneasy lest I should be missed, I told him, I could stayno longer. I had already staid too long. I would write to him all myreasons. And depend upon it, Mr. Lovelace, said I [just upon the pointof stooping for the key, in order to return] I will die, rather thanhave that man. You know what I have promised, if I find myself indanger.

  One word, Madam, however; one word more [approaching me, his arms stillfolded, as if, I thought, he would not be tempted to mischief]. Rememberonly, that I come at your appointment, to redeem you, at the hazard ofmy life, from your gaolers and persecutors, with a resolution, God ismy witness, or may he for ever blast me! [that was his shockingimprecation] to be a father, uncle, brother, and, as I humbly hoped, inyour own good time, a husband to you, all in one. But since I find youare so ready to cry out for help against me
, which must bring down uponme the vengeance of all your family, I am contented to run all risques.I will not ask you to retreat with me; I will attend you into thegarden, and into the house, if I am not intercepted.

  Nay, be not surprised, Madam. The help you would have called for, I willattend you to; for I will face them all: but not as a revenger, if theyprovoke me not too much. You shall see what I can further bear for yoursake--and let us both see, if expostulation, and the behaviour of agentleman to them, will not procure me the treatment due to a gentlemanfrom them.

  Had he offered to draw his sword upon himself, I was prepared to havedespised him for supposing me such a poor novice, as to be intimidatedby an artifice so common. But this resolution, uttered with so seriousan air, of accompanying me in to my friends, made me gasp with terror.

  What mean you, Mr. Lovelace? said I: I beseech you leave me--leave me,Sir, I beseech you.

  Excuse me, Madam! I beg you to excuse me. I have long enough skulkedlike a thief about these lonely walls--long, too long, have I bornethe insults of your brother, and other of your relations. Absence butheightens malice. I am desperate. I have but this one chance for it; foris not the day after to-morrow Wednesday? I have encouraged virulenceby my tameness.--Yet tame I will still be. You shall see, Madam, what Iwill bear for your sake. My sword shall be put sheathed into your hands[and he offered it to me in the scabbard].--My heart, if you please,clapping one hand upon his breast, shall afford a sheath for yourbrother's sword. Life is nothing, if I lose you--be pleased, Madam, toshew me the way into the garden [moving toward the door]. I will attendyou, though to my fate!--But too happy, be it what it will, if I receiveit in your presence. Lead on, dear creature! [putting his sword into hisbelt]--You shall see what I can bear for you. And he stooped and tookup the key; and offered it to the lock; but dropped it again, withoutopening the door, upon my earnest expostulations.

  What can you mean, Mr. Lovelace?--said I--Would you thus exposeyourself? Would you thus expose me?--Is this your generosity? Is everybody to take advantage thus of the weakness of my temper?

  And I wept. I could not help it.

  He threw himself upon his knees at my feet--Who can bear, said he, [withan ardour that could not be feigned, his own eyes glistening,] whocan bear to behold such sweet emotion?--O charmer of my heart, [and,respectfully still kneeling, he took my hand with both his, pressing itto his lips,] command me with you, command me from you; in every wayI am implicit to obedience--but I appeal to all you know of yourrelations' cruelty to you, their determined malice against me, and asdetermined favour to the man you tell me you hate, (and, O Madam, if youdid not hate him, I should hardly think there would be a merit in yourapprobation, place it where you would)--I appeal to every thing youknow, to all you have suffered, whether you have not reason to beapprehensive of that Wednesday, which is my terror!--whether you canpossibly have another opportunity--the chariot ready: my friends withimpatience expecting the result of your own appointment: a man whosewill shall be entirely your will, imploring you, thus, on his knees,imploring you--to be your own mistress; that is all: nor will I askfor your favour, but as upon full proof I shall appear to deserve it.Fortune, alliance, unobjectionable!--O my beloved creature! pressing myhand once more to his lips, let not such an opportunity slip. You never,never will have such another.

  I bid him rise. He arose; and I told him, that were I not thusunaccountably hurried by his impatience, I doubted not to convincehim, that both he and I had looked upon next Wednesday with greaterapprehension than was necessary. I was proceeding to give him myreasons; but he broke in upon me--

  Had I, Madam, but the shadow of a probability to hope what you hope, Iwould be all obedience and resignation. But the license is actuallygot: the parson is provided: the pedant Brand is the man. O my dearestcreature, do these preparations mean only a trial?

  You know not, Sir, were the worst to be intended, and weak as you thinkme, what a spirit I have: you know not what I can do, and how I canresist when I think myself meanly or unreasonably dealt with: nor do youknow what I have already suffered, what I have already borne, knowing towhose unbrotherly instigations all is to be ascribed--

  I may expect all things, Madam, interrupted he, from the nobleness ofyour mind. But your spirits may fail you. What may not be apprehendedfrom the invincible temper of a father so positive, to a daughter sodutiful?--Fainting will not save you: they will not, perhaps, be sorryfor such an effect of their barbarity. What will signify expostulationsagainst a ceremony performed? Must not all, the dreadful all follow,that is torture to my heart but to think of? Nobody to appeal to, ofwhat avail will your resistance be against the consequences of a ritewitnessed to by the imposers of it, and those your nearest relations?

  I was sure, I said, of procuring a delay at least. Many ways I had toprocure a delay. Nothing could be so fatal to us both, as for me now tobe found with him. My apprehensions on this score, I told him, grew toostrong for my heart. I should think very hardly of him, if he sought todetain me longer. But his acquiescence should engage my gratitude.

  And then stooping to take up the key to let myself into the garden, hestarted, and looked as if he had heard somebody near the door, on theinside; clapping his hand on his sword.

  This frighted me so, that I thought I should have sunk down at his feet.But he instantly re-assured me: He thought, he said, he had heard arustling against the door: but had it been so, the noise would have beenstronger. It was only the effect of his apprehension for me.

  And then taking up the key, he presented it to me.--If you will go,Madam--Yet, I cannot, cannot leave you!--I must enter the garden withyou--forgive me, but I must enter the garden with you.

  And will you, will you thus ungenerously, Mr. Lovelace, take advantageof my fears? of my wishes to prevent mischief? I, vain fool, to beconcerned for every one; nobody for me!

  Dearest creature! interrupted he, holding my hand, as I tremblinglyoffered to put the key to the lock--let me, if you will go, open thedoor. But once more, consider, could you possibly obtain that delaywhich seems to be your only dependence, whether you may not be closerconfined? I know they have already had that in consideration. Will younot, in this case, be prevented from corresponding either with MissHowe, or with me?--Who then shall assist you in your escape, if escapeyou would?--From your chamber-window only permitted to view the gardenyou must not enter into, how will you wish for the opportunity younow have, if your hatred to Solmes continue!--But alas! that cannotcontinue. If you go back, it must be from the impulses of a yielding(which you'll call, a dutiful) heart, tired and teased out of your ownwill.

  I have no patience, Sir, to be thus constrained. Must I never be atliberty to follow my own judgment? Be the consequence what it may, Iwill not be thus constrained.

  And then, freeing my hand, I again offered the key to the door.

  Down the ready kneeler dropt between me and that: And can you, can you,Madam, once more on my knees let me ask you, look with an indifferenteye upon the evils that may follow? Provoked as I have been, andtriumphed over as I shall be, if your brother succeeds, my own heartshudders, at times, at the thoughts of what must happen: And can yoursbe unconcerned? Let me beseech you, dearest creature, to consider allthese things; and lose not this only opportunity. My intelligence--

  Never, Mr. Lovelace, interrupted I, give so much credit to the words ofa traitor. Your base intelligencer is but a servant. He may pretendto know more than he has grounds for, in order to earn the wages ofcorruption. You know not what contrivances I can find out.

  I was once more offering the key to the lock, when, starting from hisknees, with a voice of affrightment, loudly whispering, and as if outof breath, they are at the door, my beloved creature! and taking thekey from me, he fluttered with it, as if he would double lock it. Andinstantly a voice from within cried out, bursting against the door, asif to break it open, the person repeating his violent pushes, Are youthere?--come up this moment!--this moment!--here they are--here they areboth together!--your
pistol this moment!--your gun!--Then another push,and another. He at the same moment drew his sword, and clapping itnaked under his arm, took both my trembling hands in his; and drawing meswiftly after him, Fly, fly, my charmer; this moment is all you have forit, said he.--Your brother!--your uncles!--or this Solmes!--they willinstantly burst the door--fly, my dearest life, if you would not bemore cruelly used than ever--if you would not see two or three murderscommitted at your feet, fly, fly, I beseech you.

  O Lord:--help, help, cried the fool, all in amaze and confusion,frighted beyond the power of controuling.

  Now behind me, now before me, now on this side, now on that, turned I myaffrighted face, in the same moment; expecting a furious brother here,armed servants there, an enraged sister screaming, and a father armedwith terror in his countenance more dreadful than even the drawn swordwhich I saw, or those I apprehended. I ran as fast as he; yet knew notthat I ran; my fears adding wings to my feet, at the same time that theytook all power of thinking from me--my fears, which probably would nothave suffered me to know what course to take, had I not had him to urgeand draw me after him: especially as I beheld a man, who must have comeout of the door, keeping us in his eye, running now towards us; thenback to the garden; beckoning and calling to others, whom I supposed hesaw, although the turning of the wall hindered me from seeing them; andwhom I imagined to be my brother, my father, and their servants.

  Thus terrified, I was got out of sight of the door in a very fewminutes: and then, although quite breathless between running andapprehension, he put my arm under his, his drawn sword in the otherhand, and hurried me on still faster: my voice, however, contradictingmy action; crying, no, no, no, all the while; straining my neck to lookback, as long as the walls of the garden and park were within sight,and till he brought me to the chariot: where, attending, were two armedservants of his own, and two of Lord M.'s on horseback.

  Here I must suspend my relation for a while: for now I am come to thissad period of it, my indiscretion stares me in the face; and my shameand my grief give me a compunction that is more poignant methinks thanif I had a dagger in my heart. To have it to reflect, that I shouldso inconsiderately give in to an interview, which, had I known eithermyself or him, or in the least considered the circumstances of the case,I might have supposed would put me into the power of his resolution, andout of that of my own reason.

  For, might I not have believed, that he, who thought he had cause toapprehend that he was on the point of losing a person who had costhim so much pains and trouble, would not hinder her, if possible, fromreturning? That he, who knew I had promised to give him up for ever, ifinsisted as a condition of reconciliation, would not endeavour to put itout of my power to do so? In short, that he, who had artfully forborneto send for my letter, (for he could not be watched, my dear,) lest heshould find in it a countermand to my appointment, (as I myself couldapprehend, although I profited by the apprehension,) would want a deviceto keep me with him till the danger of having our meeting discoveredmight throw me absolutely into his power, to avoid my own worse usage,and the mischiefs which might have ensued (perhaps in my very sight) hadmy friends and he met?

  But if it shall come out, that the person within the garden was hiscorrupted implement, employed to frighten me away with him, do youthink, my dear, that I shall not have reason to hate him and myselfstill more? I hope his heart cannot be so deep and so vile a one: I hopeit cannot! But how came it to pass, that one man could get out at thegarden-door, and no more? how, that that man kept aloof, as it were,and pursued us not; nor ran back to alarm the house? my fright, and mydistance, would not let me be certain; but really this man, as I nowrecollect, had the air of that vile Joseph Leman.

  O why, why, my dear friends!--But wherefore blame I them, when I hadargued myself into a hope, not improbable, that even the dreadfultrial I was to undergo so soon might turn out better than if I had beendirectly carried away from the presence of my once indulgent parents,who might possibly intend that trial to be the last I should have had?

  Would to Heaven, that I had stood it, however! then if I had afterwardsdone, what now I have been prevailed upon, or perhaps foolishlyfrightened to do, I should not have been stung so much by inwardreproach as now I am: and this would have been a great evil avoided.

  You know, my dear, that your Clarissa's mind was ever above justifyingher own failings by those of others. God forgive those of my friendswho have acted cruelly by me! But their faults are their own, andnot excuses for mine. And mine began early: for I ought not to havecorresponded with him.

  O the vile encroacher! how my indignation, at times, rises at him! thusto lead a young creature (too much indeed relying upon her own strength)from evil to evil!--This last evil, although the remote, yet sureconsequence of my first--my prohibited correspondence! by a father earlyprohibited.

  How much more properly had I acted, with regard to that correspondence,had I, once for all, when he was forbidden to visit me, and I to receivehis visits, pleaded the authority by which I ought to have been bound,and denied to write to him!--But I thought I could proceed, or stop, asI pleased. I supposed it concerned me, more than any other, to bethe arbitress of the quarrels of unruly spirits.--And now I find mypresumption punished--punished, as other sins frequently are, by itself!

  As to this last rashness; now, that it is too late, I plainly see howI ought to have conducted myself. As he knew I had but one way oftransmitting to him the knowledge of what befel me; as he knew that myfate was upon a crisis with my friends; and that I had in my letterto him reserved the liberty of revocation; I should not have beensolicitous whether he had got my letter or not: when he had come, andfound I did not answer to his signal, he would presently have resortedto the loose bricks, and there been satisfied, by the date of my letter,that it was his own fault that he had it not before. But, governed bythe same pragmatical motives which induced me to correspond with him atfirst, I was again afraid, truly, with my foolish and busy prescience;and the disappointment would have thrown him into the way of receivingfresh insults from the same persons; which might have made him guiltyof some violence to them. And so to save him an apprehended rashness,I rushed into a real one myself. And what vexes me more is, that it isplain to me now, by all his behaviour, that he had as great a confidencein my weakness, as I had in my own strength. And so, in a point entirelyrelative to my honour, he has triumphed; for he has not been mistaken inme, while I have in myself!

  Tell me, my dear Miss Howe, tell me truly, if your unbiassed heart doesnot despise me?--It must! for your mind and mine were ever one; andI despise myself!--And well I may: For could the giddiest and mostinconsiderate girl in England have done worse than I shall appear tohave done in the eye of the world? Since my crime will be known withoutthe provocations, and without the artifices of the betrayer too; whileit will be a high aggravation, that better things were expected from methan from many others.

  You charge me to marry the first opportunity--Ah! my dear! another ofthe blessed effects of my folly--That's as much in my power now as--asI am myself!--And can I besides give a sanction immediately to hisdeluding arts?--Can I avoid being angry with him for tricking me thus,as I may say, (and as I have called it to him,) out of myself?--Forcompelling me to take a step so contrary to all my resolutions andassurances given to you; a step so dreadfully inconvenient to myself; sodisgraceful and so grievous (as it must be) to my dear mother, were I tobe less regardful of any other of my family or friends?--You don't know,nor can you imagine, my dear, how I am mortified!--How much I am sunkin my own opinion! I, that was proposed for an example, truly, toothers!--O that I were again in my father's house, stealing down witha letter to you; my heart beating with expectation of finding one fromyou!

  *****

  This is the Wednesday morning I dreaded so much, that I once thoughtof it as the day of my doom: but of the Monday, it is plain, I ought tohave been most apprehensive. Had I staid, and had the worst Idreaded happened, my friends would then have been answerable for theconsequen
ces, if any bad ones had followed:--but now, I have only thisconsolation left me (a very poor one, you'll say!) that I have clearedthem of blame, and taken it all upon myself!

  You will not wonder to see this narrative so dismally scrawled. It isowing to different pens and ink, all bad, and written in snatches oftime; my hand trembling too with fatigue and grief.

  I will not add to the length of it, by the particulars of his behaviourto me, and of our conversation at St. Alban's, and since; because thosewill come in course in the continuation of my story; which, no doubt,you will expect from me.

  Only thus much will I say, that he is extremely respectful (evenobsequiously so) at present, though I am so much dissatisfied withhim and myself that he has hitherto had no great cause to praise mycomplaisance to him. Indeed, I can hardly, at times, bear the seducer inmy sight.

  The lodgings I am in are inconvenient. I shall not stay in them: so itsignifies nothing to tell you how to direct to me hither. And where mynext may be, as yet I know not.

  He knows that I am writing to you; and has offered to send my letter,when finished, by a servant of his. But I thought I could not be toocautious, as I am now situated, in having a letter of this importanceconveyed to you. Who knows what such a man may do? So very wickeda contriver! The contrivance, if a contrivance, to get me away, soinsolently mean!--But I hope it is not a contrivance neither!--Yet, bethat as it will, I must say, that the best of him, and of my prospectswith him, are bad; and yet, having enrolled myself among the too-laterepenters, who shall pity me?

  Nevertheless, I will dare to hope for a continued interest in youraffections [I shall be miserable indeed if I may not!] and to beremembered in your daily prayers. For neither time nor accident shallever make me cease to be

  Your faithful and affectionate CLARISSA HARLOWE.