Clarissa, Or, the History of a Young Lady

by Samuel Richardson

  I am, my dearest friend,

  Your ever-obliged

  CLARISSA HARLOWE

  Letter 186: MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE TO MISS HOWE

  Tuesday night, May 16

  Mr Lovelace has sent me, by Dorcas, his proposals, as follow:

  ‘To spare a delicacy so extreme, and to obey you, I write: and the rather that you may communicate this paper to Miss Howe, who may consult any of her friends you shall think proper to have entrusted on this occasion. I say entrusted because, as you know, I have given it out to several persons that we are actually married.

  ‘In the first place, madam, I offer to settle upon you, by way of jointure, your whole estate. And moreover to vest in trustees such a part of mine in Lancashire as shall produce a clear four hundred pounds a year, to be paid to your sole and separate use, quarterly.

  ‘My own estate is a clear £2000 per annum. Lord M. proposes to give me possession either of that which he has in Lancashire (to which, by the way, I think I have a better title than he has himself), or that we call The Lawn in Hertfordshire, upon my nuptials with a lady whom he so greatly admires; and to make that I shall choose a clear £1000 per annum.

  ‘If, as your own estate is at present in your father’s hands, you rather choose that I should make a jointure out of mine, tantamount to yours, be it what it will, it shall be done. I will engage Lord M. to write to you, what he proposes to do on the happy occasion: not as your desire or expectation, but to demonstrate that no advantage is intended to be taken of the situation you are in with your own family.

  ‘To show the beloved daughter the consideration I have for her, I will consent that she shall prescribe the terms of agreement in relation to the large sums, which must be in her father’s hands, arising from her grandfather’s estate. I have no doubt but he will be put upon making large demands upon you. All those it shall be in your power to comply with, for the sake of your own peace. And the remainder shall be paid into your hands, and be entirely at your disposal, as a fund to support those charitable donations, which I have heard you so famed for out of your family; and for which you have been so greatly reflected upon in it.

  ‘As to clothes, jewels, and the like, against the time you shall choose to make your appearance, it will be my pride that you shall not be beholden for such of these as shall be answerable to the rank of both, to those who have had the stupid folly to renounce a daughter they deserved not. You must excuse me, madam: you would mistrust my sincerity in the rest, could I speak of these people with less asperity, though so nearly related to you.

  ‘These, madam, are my proposals. They are such as I always designed to make, whenever you would permit me to enter into the delightful subject.

  ‘I will only add, that if I have omitted anything that would have given you further satisfaction; or if the above terms be short of what you would wish; you will be pleased to supply them as you think fit. And when I know your pleasure, I will instantly order articles to be drawn up conformably; that nothing in my power may be wanting to make you happy.

  ‘You will now, dearest madam, judge how far all the rest depends upon yourself.’

  • • •

  You see, my dear, what he offers. You see it is all my fault that he has not made these offers before. I am a strange creature! To be to blame in everything, and to everybody! Yet neither intend the ill at the time, nor know it to be the ill till too late, or so nearly too late that I must give up all the delicacy he talks of to compound for my fault!

  Would you not, as you read, have supposed that the paper would conclude with the most earnest demand of a day? I own I had that expectation so strong, resulting naturally, as I may say, from the premises, that without studying for dissatisfaction, I could not help being dissatisfied when I came to the conclusion.

  I will consider this paper; and write to it, if I am able: for it seems now, all the rest depends upon myself.

  Letter 187: MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE TO MISS HOWE

  Wednesday morning, May 17

  Mr Lovelace would fain have engaged me last night. But as I was not prepared to enter upon the subject of his proposals, intending to consider them maturely, and was not highly pleased with his conclusion (and then there is hardly any getting from him in tolerable time over-night), I desired to be excused seeing him till morning.

  About seven o’clock we met in the dining-room. I find he was full of expectation that I should meet him with a very favourable, who knows but with thankful aspect? And I immediately found by his sullen countenance, that he was under no small disappointment that I did not.

  My dearest love, are you well? Why look you so solemn upon me? Will your indifference never be over? If I have proposed terms in any respect short of your expectation—

  I told him that he had very considerately mentioned my showing his proposals to Miss Howe, and consulting any of her friends upon them by her means; and I should have an opportunity to send them to her by Collins by-and-by, and so insisted to suspend any talk upon that subject till I had her opinion upon them.

  Good God! If there were but the least loop-hole, the least room for delay! But he was writing a letter to his uncle, to give him an account of his situation with me, and could not finish it so satisfactorily, either to my lord or to himself, as if I would condescend to say whether the terms he had proposed were acceptable or not.

  But by his soul, he knew not, so much was I upon the reserve, and so much latent meaning did my eye import, whether, when he most hoped to please me, he was not farthest from doing so. Would I vouchsafe to say, whether I approved of his compliment to Lord M. or not?

  Miss Howe, thought I at that moment, says I must not run away from this man!

  To be sure, Mr Lovelace, if this matter is ever to be, it must be agreeable to me to have the full approbation of one side, since I cannot have that of the other.

  If this be ever to be! Good God! what words were those at this time of day! And full approbation of one side! Why that word approbation? when the greatest pride of all his family was that of having the honour of so dear a creature for their relation? Would to Heaven, my dearest life, added he, that, without complimenting anybody, tomorrow might be the happiest day of my life! What say you, my angel? with a trembling impatience that seemed not affected. What say you for tomorrow?

  No, no! you cannot think all of a sudden there should be reason for such a hurry. It will be most agreeable, to be sure, for my lord to be present.

  I am all obedience and resignation, returned the wretch, with a self-pluming air, as if he had acquiesced to a proposal made by me, and had complimented me with a great piece of self-denial.

  Modesty, I think, required it of me that it should pass so. Did it not? I think it did. Would to Heaven—but what signifies wishing?

  But when he would have rewarded himself, as he had heretofore called it, for this self-supposed concession, with a kiss, I repulsed him with a just and very sincere disdain.

  He seemed both vexed and surprised, as one who had made proposals that he had expected everything from. He plainly said that he thought our situation would entitle him to such an innocent freedom: and he was both amazed and grieved to be thus scornfully repulsed.

  No reply could be made by me. I abruptly broke from him. I recollect, as I passed by one of the pier-glasses, that I saw in it his clenched hand offered in wrath to his forehead: the words, indifference, by his soul, next to hatred, I heard him speak: and something of ice he mentioned: I heard not what.

  And so much at present for Mr Lovelace’s proposals: of which I desire your opinion.

  I am, my dearest friend,

  Your ever-obliged

  CL. HARLOWE

  Letter 188: MISS HOWE TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE

  Thursday, May 18

  I have neither time nor patience, my dear friend, to answer to every material article in your last letters just now re
ceived. Mr Lovelace’s proposals are all I like of him. And yet (as you do) I think that he concludes them not with that warmth and earnestness which we might naturally have expected from him. Never in my life did I hear or read of so patient a man, with such a blessing in his reach. But wretches of his cast, between you and me, my dear, have not, I fancy, the ardours that honest men have.

  But, as matters now stand betwixt you, I am very unseasonable in expressing my resentments against him. Yet I don’t know whether I am or not, neither; since it is the cruellest of states for a woman to be forced to have a man whom her heart despises. You must, at least, despise him; at times, however. His clenched fist offered to his forehead on your leaving him in just displeasure; I wish it had been a poleaxe, and in the hand of his worst enemy.

  I will endeavour to think of some method, of some scheme, to get you from him, and to fix you safely somewhere till your cousin Morden arrives; a scheme to lie by you, and to be pursued as occasion may be given. You are sure that you can go abroad when you please; and that our correspondence is safe. I cannot, however, for the reasons heretofore mentioned respecting your own reputation, wish you to leave him while he gives you not cause to suspect his honour. But your heart, I know, would be the easier if you were sure of some asylum, in case of necessity.

  Yet once more, I say, I can have no notion that he can or dare to mean you dishonour. But then the man is a fool, my dear. That’s all.

  However, since you are thrown upon a fool, marry the fool at the first opportunity; and though I doubt that this man will be the most ungovernable of fools, as all witty and vain fools are, take him as a punishment, since you cannot as a reward. In short, as one given to convince you that there is nothing but imperfection in this life.

  I shall be impatient till I have your next. I am, my dearest friend,

  Your ever-affectionate and faithful

  ANNA HOWE

  Letter 194: MR LOVELACE TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.

  Saturday, May 20

  And what must necessarily be the consequence of all this, with regard to my beloved’s behaviour to me? Canst thou doubt that it was all complaisance next time she admitted me into her presence?

  Thursday we were very happy. All the morning extremely happy. I kissed her charming hand. I need not describe to thee her hand and arm. Fifty times kissed her hand, I believe. Once her cheek, intending her lip, but so rapturously, that she could not help seeming angry.

  Had she not thus kept me at arms-length; had she not denied me those innocent liberties which our sex, from degree to degree, aspire to; could I but have gained access to her in her hours of heedlessness and dishabille (for full dress creates dignity, augments consciousness, and compels distance), we had been familiarized to each other long ago. But keep her up ever so late; meet her ever so early; by breakfast-time dressed for the day; and at her earliest hour, as nice as others dressed. All her forms thus kept up, wonder not that I have made so little progress in the proposed trial. But how must all this distance stimulate!

  Thursday morning, I said, we were extremely happy. About noon, she numbered the hours she had been with me; all of them to me but as one minute; and desired to be left to herself. I was loth to comply: but observing the sunshine begin to shut in, I yielded.

  I dined out. Returned; talked of the house. Had written to my uncle; expected an answer soon from him. I was admitted to sup with her. Urged for her approbation or correction of my written terms. She promised an answer as soon as she had heard from Miss Howe.

  Friday passed as the day before.

  Here were two happy days to both! Why cannot I make every day equally happy? It looks as if it were in my power to do so. Strange I should thus delight in teasing a woman I so dearly love! I must, I doubt, have something in my temper like Miss Howe, who loves to plague the man who puts himself in her power. But I could not do thus by such an angel as this, did I not believe that after her probation-time is expired, and if there is no bringing her to cohabitation (my darling view), I shall reward her as she wishes.

  Letter 196: MISS HOWE TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE

  Saturday, May 20

  I did not know, my dear, that you deferred giving an answer to Mr Lovelace’s proposals till you had my opinion of them. A particular hand occasionally going to town will leave this at Wilson’s, that no delay may be made on that account.

  I never had any doubt of the man’s justice and generosity in matters of settlement; and all his relations are as noble in their spirits as in their descent: but now, it may not be amiss for you to wait to see what returns my lord makes to his letter of invitation.

  The scheme I think of is this.

  There is a person (I believe you have seen her with me), one Mrs Townsend, who is a great dealer in Indian silks, Brussels and French laces, cambrics, linen, and other valuable goods; which she has a way of coming at, duty-free; and has a great vend for them, and for other curiosities which she imports, in the private families of the gentry round us.

  She has her days of being in town, and then is at a chamber she rents in an inn in Southwark, where she has patterns of all her silks and much of her portable goods, for the conveniency of her London customers. But her place of residence, and where she has her principal warehouse, is at Deptford, for the opportunity of getting her goods on shore.

  And having applied to me, to recommend her to you (as it is her view to be known to young ladies who are likely to change their condition), I am sure I can engage her to give you protection at her house at Deptford; which she says is a populous village; and one of the last, I should think, that you would be sought for in. She is not much there, you will believe, by the course of her dealings; but no doubt must have somebody on the spot in whom she can confide: and there perhaps you might be safe, till your cousin comes. And I should not think it amiss, that you write to him out of hand. I cannot suggest to you what you should write. That must be left to your own discretion. For you will be afraid, no doubt, of the consequence of a variance between the two men.

  I will think further of this scheme of mine in relation to Mrs Townsend, if you find it necessary that I should. But I hope there will be no occasion to do so, since your prospects seem to be changed, and that you have had twenty-four not unhappy hours together. How my indignation rises for this poor consolation in the courtship (courtship must I call it?) of such a lady!

  The wretch is no assassin, no night-murderer. He is an open, because a fearless enemy; and should he attempt anything that should make him obnoxious to the laws of society, you might have a fair riddance of him either by flight or the gallows; no matter which.

  I showed Mr Lovelace’s proposals to Mr Hickman, who had chambers once at Lincoln’s Inn, being designed for the law had his elder brother lived. He looked so wise, so proud, and so important, upon the occasion; and wanted to take so much consideration about them—would take them home if I pleased—and weigh them well—and so forth—and the like—and all that—that I had no patience with him, and snatched them back with anger.

  He begged my pardon. Saw no objection, indeed. But might he be allowed once more—

  No matter—no matter—I would have shown them to my mother, I said, who, though of no Inn of Court, knew more of these things than half the lounging lubbers of them; and that at first sight.

  But, my dear, let the articles be drawn up, and ingrossed; and solemnize upon them; and there’s no more to be said.

  I send this away directly. May your prospects be still more and more happy, prays

  Your own

  ANNA HOWE

  Letter 198: MR LOVELACE TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.

  Sunday, May 21

  I am too much disturbed in my mind to think of any thing but revenge; or I had intended to give thee an account of Miss Harlowe’s curious observations on the play. Miss Harlowe’s, I say. Thou knowest that I hate the name of Harlowe; and I am exceedingly out of humour wi
th her, and with her saucy friend.

  What’s the matter now, thou’lt ask? Matter enough; for while we were at the play, Dorcas, who had her orders and a key to her lady’s chamber, as well as a master-key to her drawers and mahogany chest, closet-key and all, found means to come at some of Miss Howe’s last-written letters. The vigilant wench was directed to them by seeing her lady take a letter out of her stays, and put it to the others, before she went out with me—afraid, as the women upbraidingly tell me, that I should find it there.

  Dorcas no sooner found them, than she assembled three ready writers of the non-apparents, and Sally, and she and they employed themselves with the utmost diligence, in making extracts according to former directions, from these cursed letters, for my use. Cursed, I may well call them. Such abuses, such virulence! Oh this little fury Miss Howe! Well might her saucy friend (who has been equally free with me, or the occasion could not have been given) be so violent as she lately was at my endeavouring to come at one of these letters.

  And here, just now, is another letter brought from the same little virulent devil. I hope to procure transcripts from that too, very speedily, if it be put to the rest; for the saucy lady is resolved to go to church this morning; not so much from a spirit of devotion, I have reason to think, as to try whether she can go out without check or control, or my attendance.

  • • •

  I have been denied breakfasting with her. Indeed she was a little displeased with me last night; because, on our return from the play, I obliged her to pass the rest of the night with the women and me, in their parlour, and to stay till near one. She told me at parting that she expected to have the whole next day to herself. I had not read the extracts then; so was all affectionate respect, awe, and distance; for I had resolved to begin a new course, and, if possible, to banish all jealousy and suspicion from her heart: and yet I had no reason to be much troubled at her past suspicions; since, if a woman will continue with a man whom she suspects, when she can get from him, or thinks she can, I am sure it is a very hopeful sign.