LETTER XXV
MISS CL. HARLOWE, TO THE REV. DR. LEWENSAT. AUG. 19.
REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,
I thought, till I received your affectionate and welcome letter, that Ihad neither father, uncle, brother left; nor hardly a friend among myformer favourers of your sex. Yet, knowing you so well, and having noreason to upbraid myself with a faulty will, I was to blame, (evenalthough I had doubted the continuance of your good opinion,) to declinethe trial whether I had forfeited it or not; and if I had, whether Icould not honourably reinstate myself in it.
But, Sir, it was owing to different causes that I did not; partly toshame, to think how high, in my happier days, I stood in your esteem, andhow much I must be sunk in it, since those so much nearer in relation tome gave me up; partly to deep distress, which makes the humbled heartdiffident; and made mine afraid to claim the kindred mind in your's,which would have supplied to me in some measure all the dear and lostrelations I have named.
Then, so loth, as I sometimes was, to be thought to want to make a partyagainst those whom both duty and inclination bid me reverence: so longtrailed on between hope and doubt: so little my own mistress at one time;so fearful of making or causing mischief at another; and not beingencouraged to hope, by your kind notice, that my application to you wouldbe acceptable:--apprehending that my relations had engaged your silenceat least*--THESE--But why these unavailing retrospections now?--I was tobe unhappy--in order to be happy; that is my hope!--Resigning thereforeto that hope, I will, without any further preamble, write a few lines,(if writing to you, I can write but a few,) in answer to the subject ofyour kind letter.
* The stiff visit this good divine was prevailed upon to make her, asmentioned in Vol. II. Letter XXXI. (of which, however, she was toogenerous to remind him) might warrant the lady to think that he hadrather inclined to their party, as to the parental side, than to her's.
Permit me, then, to say, That I believe your arguments would have beenunanswerable in almost every other case of this nature, but in that ofthe unhappy Clarissa Harlowe.
It is certain that creatures who cannot stand the shock of public shame,should be doubly careful how they expose themselves to the danger ofincurring private guilt, which may possibly bring them to it. But as tomyself, suppose there were no objections from the declining way I am inas to my health; and supposing I could have prevailed upon myself toappear against this man; were there not room to apprehend that the end somuch wished for by my friends, (to wit, his condign punishment,) wouldnot have been obtained, when it came to be seen that I had consented togive him a clandestine meeting; and, in consequence of that, had beenweakly tricked out of living under one roof with him for several weeks;which I did, (not only without complaint, but) without cause ofcomplaint?
Little advantage in a court, (perhaps, bandied about, and jestedprofligately with,) would some of those pleas in my favour have been,which out of court, and to a private and serious audience, would havecarried the greatest weight against him--Such, particularly, as theinfamous methods to which he had recourse--
It would, no doubt, have been a ready retort from every mouth, that Iought not to have thrown myself into the power of such a man, and that Iought to take for my pains what had befallen me.
But had the prosecution been carried on to effect, and had he even beensentenced to death, can it be supposed that his family would not have hadinterest enough to obtain his pardon, for a crime thought too lightly of,though one of the greatest that can be committed against a creaturevaluing her honour above her life?--While I had been censured as pursuingwith sanguinary views a man who offered me early all the reparation inhis power to make?
And had he been pardoned, would he not then have been at liberty to do asmuch mischief as ever?
I dare say, Sir, such is the assurance of the man upon whom my unhappydestiny threw me; and such his inveteracy to my family, (which would thenhave appeared to be justified by their known inveteracy to him, and bytheir earnest endeavours to take away his life;) that he would not havebeen sorry to have had an opportunity to confront me, and my father,uncles, and brother, at the bar of a court of justice, on such anoccasion. In which case, would not (on his acquittal, or pardon)resentments have been reciprocally heightened? And then would mybrother, or my cousin Morden, have been more secure than now?
How do these conditions aggravate my fault! My motives, at first, werenot indeed blamable: but I had forgotten the excellent caution, which yetI was not ignorant of, That we ought not to do evil that good may come ofit.
In full conviction of the purity of my heart, and of the firmness of myprinciples, [Why may I not, thus called upon, say what I am conscious of,and yet without the imputation of faulty pride; since all is but a duty,and I should be utterly inexcusable, could I not justly say what I do?--In this full conviction,] he has offered me marriage. He has avowed hispenitence: a sincere penitence I have reason to think it, though perhapsnot a christian one. And his noble relations, (kinder to the poorsufferer than her own,) on the same conviction, and his own notungenerous acknowledgements, have joined to intercede with me to forgiveand accept of him. Although I cannot comply with the latter part oftheir intercession, have not you, Sir, from the best rules, and from thedivinest example, taught me to forgive injuries?
The injury I have received from him is indeed of the highest nature, andit was attended with circumstances of unmanly baseness and premeditation;yet, I bless God, it has not tainted my mind; it has not hurt my morals.No thanks indeed to the wicked man that it has not. No vile courses havefollowed it. My will is unviolated. The evil, (respecting myself, andnot my friends,) is merely personal. No credulity, no weakness, no wantof vigilance, have I to reproach myself with. I have, through grace,triumphed over the deepest machinations. I have escaped from him. Ihave renounced him. The man whom once I could have loved, I have beenenabled to despise: And shall not charity complete my triumph? and shallI not enjoy it?--And where would be my triumph if he deserved myforgiveness?--Poor man! he has had a loss in losing me! I have the prideto think so, because I think I know my own heart. I have had none inlosing him.
But I have another plea to make, which alone would have been enough (as Ipresume) to answer the contents of your very kind and friendly letter.
I know, my dear and reverend friend, the spiritual guide and director ofmy happier days! I know, that you will allow of my endeavour to bringmyself to this charitable disposition, when I tell you how near I thinkmyself to that great and awful moment, in which, and even in the ardentpreparation to which, every sense of indignity or injury that concernsnot the immortal soul, ought to be absorbed in higher and more importantcontemplations.
Thus much for myself.
And for the satisfaction of my friends and favourers, Miss Howe issolicitous to have all those letters and materials preserved, which willset my whole story in a true light. The good Dr. Lewen is one of theprincipal of those friends and favourers.
The warning that may be given from those papers to all such youngcreatures as may have known or heard of me, may be of more efficacy tothe end wished for, as I humbly presume to think, than my appearancecould have been in a court of justice, pursuing a doubtful event, underthe disadvantages I have mentioned. And if, my dear and good Sir, youare now, on considering every thing, of this opinion, and I could knowit, I should consider it as a particular felicity; being as solicitousas ever to be justified in what I may in your eyes.
I am sorry, Sir, that your indisposition has reduced you to the necessityof writing upon your pillow. But how much am I obliged to that kind andgenerous concern for me, which has impelled you, as I may say, to write aletter, containing so many paternal lines, with such inconvenience toyourself!
May the Almighty bless you, dear and reverend Sir, for all your goodnessto me of long time past, as well as for that which engaged my presentgratitude! Continue to esteem me to the last, as I do and will venerateyou! And let me bespeak your prayers, the continuance, I should say, of
your prayers; for I doubt not, that I have always had them: and to them,perhaps, has in part been owing (as well as to your pious preceptsinstilled through my earlier youth) that I have been able to make thestand I have made; although every thing that you prayed for has not beengranted to me by that Divine Wisdom, which knows what is best for itspoor creatures.
My prayers for you are, that it will please God to restore you to youraffectionate flock; and after as many years of life as shall be for hisservice, and to your own comfort, give us a happy meeting in thoseregions of blessedness, which you have taught me, as well by example, asby precept, to aspire to!
CLARISSA HARLOWE.