Read Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 6 Page 23


  LETTER XXIII

  MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.

  But with all this dear creature's resentment against me, I cannot, for myheart, think but she will get all over, and consent to enter the palewith me. Were she even to die to-morrow, and to know she should, wouldnot a woman of her sense, of her punctilio, and in her situation, and ofso proud a family, rather die married, than otherwise?--No doubt but shewould; although she were to hate the man ever so heartily. If so, thereis now but one man in the world whom she can have--and that is me.

  Now I talk [familiar writing is but talking, Jack] thus glibly ofentering the pale, thou wilt be ready to question me, I know, as to myintentions on this head.

  As much of my heart, as I know of it myself, will I tell thee.--When I amfrom her, I cannot still help hesitating about marriage; and I evenfrequently resolve against it, and determine to press my favourite schemefor cohabitation. But when I am with her, I am ready to say, to swear,and to do, whatever I think will be the most acceptable to her, and werea parson at hand, I should plunge at once, no doubt of it, into thestate.

  I have frequently thought, in common cases, that it is happy for manygiddy fellows [there are giddy fellows, as well as giddy girls, Jack; andperhaps those are as often drawn in, as these] that ceremony and paradeare necessary to the irrevocable solemnity; and that there is generallytime for a man to recollect himself in the space between the heatedover-night, and the cooler next morning; or I know not who could escapethe sweet gypsies, whose fascinating powers are so much aided by our ownraised imaginations.

  A wife at any time, I used to say. I had ever confidence and vanityenough to think that no woman breathing could deny her hand when I heldout mine. I am confoundedly mortified to find that this lady is able tohold me at bay, and to refuse all my honest vows.

  What force [allow me a serious reflection, Jack: it will be put down!What force] have evil habits upon the human mind! When we enter upon adevious course, we think we shall have it in our power when we willreturn to the right path. But it is not so, I plainly see: For, who canacknowledge with more justice this dear creature's merits, and his ownerrors, than I? Whose regret, at times, can be deeper than mine, for theinjuries I have done her? Whose resolutions to repair those injuriesstronger?--Yet how transitory is my penitence!--How am I hurried away--Canst thou tell by what?--O devil of youth, and devil of intrigue, how doyou mislead me!--How often do we end in occasions for the deepestremorse, what we begin in wantonness!--

  At the present writing, however, the turn of the scale is in behalf ofmatrimony--for I despair of carrying with her my favourite point.

  The lady tells Dorcas, that her heart is broken: and that she shall livebut a little while. I think nothing of that, if we marry. In the firstplace, she knows not what a mind unapprehensive will do for her, in astate to which all the sex look forwards with high satisfaction. Howoften have the whole of the sacred conclave been thus deceived in theirchoice of a pope; not considering that the new dignity is of itselfsufficient to give new life! A few months' heart's ease will give mycharmer a quite different notion of things: and I dare say, as I haveheretofore said,* once married, and I am married for life.

  * See Letter IX. of this volume.

  I will allow that her pride, in one sense, has suffered abasement: buther triumph is the greater in every other. And while I can think thatall her trials are but additions to her honour, and that I have laid thefoundations of her glory in my own shame, can I be called cruel, if I amnot affected with her grief as some men would be?

  And for what should her heart be broken? Her will is unviolated;--atpresent, however, her will is unviolated. The destroying of good habits,and the introducing of bad, to the corrupting of the whole heart, is theviolation. That her will is not to be corrupted, that her mind is not tobe debased, she has hitherto unquestionably proved. And if she givecause for farther trials, and hold fast her integrity, what ideas willshe have to dwell upon, that will be able to corrupt her morals? Whatvestigia, what remembrances, but such as will inspire abhorrence of theattempter?

  What nonsense then to suppose that such a mere notional violation as shehas suffered should be able to cut asunder the strings of life?

  Her religion, married, or not married, will set her above making such atrifling accident, such an involuntary suffering fatal to her.

  Such considerations as these they are that support me against allapprehensions of bugbear consequences; and I would have them have weightwith thee; who are such a doughty advocate for her. And yet I allow theethis; that she really makes too much of it; takes it too much to heart.To be sure she ought to have forgot it by this time, except the charming,charming consequence happen, that still I am in hopes will happen, were Ito proceed no farther. And, if she apprehended this herself, then hasthe dear over-nice soul some reason for taking it so much to heart; andyet would not, I think, refuse to legitimate.

  O Jack! had I am imperial diadem, I swear to thee, that I would give itup, even to my enemy, to have one charming boy by this lady. And shouldshe escape me, and no such effect follow, my revenge on her family, and,in such a case, on herself, would be incomplete, and I should reproachmyself as long as I lived.

  Were I to be sure that this foundation is laid [And why may I not hope itis?] I should not doubt to have her still (should she withstand her dayof grace) on my own conditions; nor should I, if it were so, questionthat revived affection in her, which a woman seldom fails to have for thefather of her first child, whether born in wedlock, or out of it.

  And pr'ythee, Jack, see in this my ardent hope, a distinction in myfavour from other rakes; who, almost to a man, follow their inclinationswithout troubling themselves about consequences. In imitation, as onewould think, of the strutting villain of a bird, which from featheredlady to feathered lady pursues his imperial pleasures, leaving it to hissleek paramours to hatch the genial product in holes and corners of theirown finding out.