MR. LOVELACE TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.

April 12.

BEGIN to stagger in my resolutions. Ever averse as I was to the hymeneal shackles, how easily will old prejudices recur! Heaven give me the heart to be honest to my Clarissa!-There's a prayer, Jack! If I should not be heard, what a sad thing would that be, for the most admirable of women !-Yet, as I do not often trouble Heaven with my prayers, who knows but this may be granted?

But there lie before me such charming difficulties, such scenery for intrigue, for stratagem, for enterprise-what a horrible thing, that my talents point all that way!When I know what is honourable and just; and would almost wish to be honest ?-Almost, I say; for such a varlet am I, that I cannot altogether wish it, for the soul of me! Such a triumph over the whole sex, if I can subdue this lady!-My maiden vow, as I may call it !—For did not the sex begin with me? And does this lady spare me?-Thinkest thou, Jack, that I should have spared my rosebud, had I been set at defiance thus ?Her grandmother besought me, at first, to spare her rosebud; and when a girl is put, or puts herself, into a man's power, what can he wish for further? while I always considered opposition and resistance as a challenge to do my

worst.

Then she cuts me short in all my ardours. To vow fidelity, is by a cursed turn upon me, to show, that there is reason, in my own opinion, for doubt of it.-The very same reflection upon me once before. In my power, or out of my power, all one to this lady.-So, Belford, my poor vows are crammed down my throat, before they can well rise to my lips. And what can a lover say to his mistress, if she will neither let him lie nor swear?

One little piece of artifice I had recourse to: when she pushed so hard for me to leave her, I made a request to her, upon a condition she could not refuse; and pretended as much gratitude upon her granting it, as if it were a favour of the last consequence.

And what was this? but to promise what she had before promised, "Never to marry any other man, while I am living, and single, unless I should give her cause for high disgust against me." This, you know, was promising nothing, because she could be offended at any time; and was to be the sole judge of the offence. But it showed her, how reasonable and just my expectations were; and

that I was no encroacher.

She consented; and asked, what security I expected? Her word only.

She gave me her word: but I besought her excuse for sealing it and in the same moment (since to have waited for consent would have been asking for a denial) saluted her. And, believe me, or not, but, as I hope to live, it was the first time I had the courage to touch her charming lips with mine. And this I tell thee, Belford, that that single pressure (as modestly put too, as if I were as much a virgin as herself, that she might not be afraid of me another time) delighted me more than ever I was delighted by the ultimatum with any other woman.-So precious do awe, reverence, and apprehended prohibition, make a favour!

And now, Belford, I am only afraid, that I shall be too cunning; for she does not at present talk enough for me. I hardly know what to make of the dear creature yet.

She must needs be unprovided of money: but has too much pride to accept of any from me. I would have had her to go to town (to town, if possible, must I get her to consent to go) in order to provide herself with the richest of silks which that can afford. But neither is this to be assented to. And yet, as my intelligence acquaints me,

her implacable relations are resolved to distress her all they can.

These wretches have been most gloriously raving, ever since her flight; and still, thank heaven, continue to rave; And will, I hope, for a twelvemonth to come. Now, at last, it is my day!

I hope I shall be honest, I once more say: but as we frail mortals are not our own masters at all times, I must endeavour to keep the dear creature unapprehensive, until I can get her to our acquaintance's in London, or to some other safe place there. Should I, in the interim, give her the least room for suspicion; or offer to restrain her; she can make her appeals to strangers, and call the country in upon me; and, perhaps, throw herself upon her relations on their own terms. And were I now to lose her, how unworthy should I be to be the prince and leader of such a confraternity as ours!-How unable to look up among men! or to show my face among women!

As things at present stand, she dare not own, that she went off against her own consent; and I have taken care to make all the implacables believe, that she escaped with it.

She has received an answer from Miss Howe, to the letter written to her from St. Alban's.

Whatever are the contents, I know not; but she was drowned in tears on the perusal of it. And I am the sufferer.

Miss Howe is a charming creature too; but confoundedly smart and spiritful. I am a good deal afraid of her.

Mrs. Howe is impatient of contradiction. So is Miss. A young lady who is sensible that she has all the maternal requisites herself, to be under maternal control;-fine ground for a man of intrigue to build upon -A mother over-notable; a daughter over-sensible; and their Hickman, who is over-neither; but merely a passive

Only that I have an object still more desirable!

Yet how unhappy, that these two young ladies lived so near each other, and are so well acquainted! Else how charmingly might I have managed them both!

But one man cannot have every woman worth having -pity though-when the man is such a very clever fellow !

Never was there such a pair of scribbling lovers as we; -yet perhaps whom it so much concerns to keep from each other what each writes. She won't have anything else to do. I would, if she'd let me. I am not reformed enough for a husband.-Patience is a virtue, Lord M. says. Slow and sure, is another of his sentences. If I had not a great deal of that virtue, I should not have waited the Harlowes' own time of ripening into execution my plots upon themselves, and upon their goddessdaughter.

My charmer has written to her sister for her clothes, for some gold, and for some of her books. What books can tell her more than she knows? But I can. So she had better study me.

I proposed, and she consented, that her clothes, or whatever else her relations should think fit to send her, should be directed to thy cousin Osgood's. Let a special messenger, at my charge, bring me any letter, or portable parcel, that shall come. If not portable, give me notice of it. But thou'lt have no trouble of this sort from her relations, I dare be sworn.

Another thing remember; I have changed my name : changed it without an act of Parliament. "Robert Huntingford" it is now. "To be left, till called for, at the pothouse at Hertford."

Upon naming thee, she asked thy character. I gave thee a better than thou deservest, in order to do credit to myself. Yet I told her, that you wert an awkward fellow; and this to do credit to thee, that she may not, if ever she be to see thee, expect a cleverer man than she'll find.

Yet thy apparent awkwardness befriends thee not a little ; for wert thou a sightly mortal, people would discover nothing extraordinary in thee, when they conversed with thee whereas seeing a bear, they are surprised to find in thee anything that is like a man. Felicitate thyself then upon thy defects; which are evidently thy principal perfections; and which occasion thee a distinction which otherwise thou wouldst never have.

MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE TO MISS HOWE.

Thursday Night, April 13.

HAVE had another very warm debate with Mr. Lovelace. It brought on the subject which you advised me not to decline, when it handsomely And I want to have either your acquittal or blame for having suffered it to go off without effect. The impatient wretch sent up to me several times, while I was writing my last to you, to desire my company.

offered.

When I had finished the letter, and given it to Mr. Hickman's friend, I was going up again, and had got up half a dozen stairs; when he besought me to stop, and hear what he had to say.

Nothing, as I said, to any new purpose had he to offer; but complainings; and those in a manner, and with an air, as I thought, that bordered upon insolence. He could not live, he told me, unless he had more of my company, and of my indulgence too, than I had yet given him.

Hereupon I stepped down, and into the parlour, not a little out of humour with him; and the more, as he has very quietly taken up his quarters here, without talking of removing, as he had promised.

I told him, that I desired his absence, of all things. I saw not, I said, that my friends thought it worth their while to give me disturbance: therefore, if he would set