LETTER LIX
FROM MISS HOWE [ENCLOSED IN THE ABOVE.] THURSDAY, APRIL 27.
I have been making inquiry, as I told you I would, whether yourrelations had really (before you left them) resolved upon that change ofmeasures which your aunt mentions in her letter; and by laying togetherseveral pieces of intelligence, some drawn from my mother, through youruncle Antony's communications; some from Miss Lloyd, by your sister's;and some by a third way that I shall not tell you of; I have reason tothink the following a true state of the case.
'That there was no intention of a change of measures till within two orthree days of your going away. On the contrary, your brother and sister,though they had no hope of prevailing with you in Solmes's favour, wereresolved never to give over their persecutions till they had pushed youupon taking some step, which, by help of their good offices, should bedeemed inexcusable by the half-witted souls they had to play upon.
'But that, at last, your mother (tired with, and, perhaps, ashamed ofthe passive part she had acted) thought fit to declare to Miss Bell,that she was determined to try to put an end to the family feuds, and toget your uncle Harlowe to second her endeavours.
'This alarmed your brother and sister, and then a change of measureswas resolved upon. Solmes's offers were, however, too advantageous tobe given up; and your father's condescension was now to be their soledependence, and (as they give it out) the trying of what that would dowith you, their last effort.'
And indeed, my dear, this must have succeeded, I verily think, with sucha daughter as they had to deal with, could that father, who never, Idare say, kneeled in his life but to his God, have so far condescendedas your aunt writes he would.
But then, my dear, what would this have done?--Perhaps you wouldhave given Lovelace this meeting, in hopes to pacify him, and preventmischief; supposing that they had given you time, and not hurried youdirectly into the state. But if you had not met him, you see that he wasresolved to visit them, and well attended too: and what must have beenthe consequence?
So that, upon the whole, we know not but matters may be best as theyare, however disagreeable that best is.
I hope your considerate and thoughtful mind will make a good use ofthis hint. Who would not with patience sustain even a great evil, if shecould persuade herself that it was kindly dispensed, in order to preventa still greater?--Especially, if she could sit down, as you can, andacquit her own heart?
Permit me one further observation--Do we not see, from the above stateof the matter, what might have been done before by the worthy personof your family, had she exerted the mother, in behalf of a child someritorious, yet so much oppressed?
Adieu, my dear. I will be ever yours. ANNA HOWE.
*****
[Clarissa, in her answer to the first of the two last letters, chidesher friend for giving so little weight to her advice, in relation to her behaviour to her mother. It may be proper to insert here the following extracts from that answer, though a little before the time.]
You assume, my dear, says she, your usual and ever-agreeable style inwhat you write of the two gentlemen,* and how unaptly you think theyhave chosen; Mr. Hickman in addressing you, Mr. Lovelace me. But I aminclinable to believe that, with a view to happiness, however two mildtempers might agree, two high ones would make sad work of it, both atone time violent and unyielding. You two might, indeed, have raquetedthe ball betwixt you, as you say.** But Mr. Hickman, by his gentlemanners, seems formed for you, if you go not too far with him. If youdo, it would be a tameness in him to bear it, which would make a manmore contemptible than Mr. Hickman can ever deserve to be made. Nor isit a disgrace for even a brave man, who knows what a woman is to vow tohim afterwards, to be very obsequious beforehand.
* See Letter XXXV. and Letter XXXVI. of this volume.** See Letter XXXVI. of this volume.
Do you think it is to the credit of Mr. Lovelace's character that hecan be offensive and violent?--Does he not, as all such spirits must,subject himself to the necessity of making submissions for his excessesfar more mortifying to a proud heart than those condescensions which thehigh-spirited are so apt to impute as a weakness of mind in such a manas Mr. Hickman?
Let me tell you, my dear, that Mr. Hickman is such a one as would ratherbear an affront from a lady, than offer one to her. He had rather, Idare say, that she should have occasion to ask his pardon than he her's.But my dear, you have outlived your first passion; and had the secondman been an angel, he would not have been more than indifferent to you.
My motives for suspending, proceeds she, were not merely ceremoniousones. I was really very ill. I could not hold up my head. The contentsof my sister's letters had pierced my heart. Indeed, my dear, I was veryill. And was I, moreover, to be as ready to accept his offer as if Iwere afraid he never would repeat it?
I see with great regret that your mamma is still immovably bent againstour correspondence. What shall I do about it?--It goes against me tocontinue it, or to wish you to favour me with returns.--Yet I have somanaged my matters that I have no friend but you to advise with. It isenough to make one indeed wish to be married to this man, though a manof errors, as he has worthy relations of my own sex; and I should havesome friends, I hope:--and having some, I might have more--for asmoney is said to increase money, so does the countenance of persons ofcharacter increase friends: while the destitute must be destitute.--Itgoes against my heart to beg of you to discontinue corresponding withme; and yet it is against my conscience to carry it on against parentalprohibition. But I dare not use all the arguments against it that Icould use--And why?--For fear I should convince you; and you shouldreject me as the rest of my friends have done. I leave therefore thedetermination of this point upon you.--I am not, I find, to be trustedwith it. But be mine all the fault, and all the punishment, if it bepunishable!--And certainly it must, when it can be the cause of theletter I have before me, and which I must no farther animadvert upon,because you forbid me to do so.
[To the second letter, among other things, she says,]
So, my dear, you seem to think that there was a fate in my error. Thecordial, the considerate friendship is seen in the observation you makeon this occasion. Yet since things have happened as they have, wouldto Heaven I could hear that all the world acquitted my father, or, atleast, my mother! whose character, before these family feuds broke out,was the subject of everyone's admiration. Don't let any body say fromyou, so that it may come to her ear, that she might, from a timelyexertion of her fine talents, have saved her unhappy child. You willobserve, my dear, that in her own good time, when she saw there was notlikely to be an end to my brother's persecutions, she resolved toexert herself. But the pragmatical daughter, by the fatal meeting,precipitated all, and frustrated her indulgent designs. O my love, I amnow convinced, by dear experience, that while children are so happyas to have parents or guardians whom they may consult, they should notpresume (no, not with the best and purest intentions) to follow theirown conceits in material cases.
A ray of hope of future reconciliation darts in upon my mind, from theintention you tell me my mother had to exert herself in my favour, had Inot gone away. And my hope is the stronger, as this communication pointsout to me that my uncle Harlowe's interest is likely, in my mother'sopinion, to be of weight, if it could be engaged. It will behove me,perhaps, to apply to that dear uncle, if a proper occasion offer.