CLARISSA; OR, THE HISTORY OF A YOUNG LADY: COMPREHENDING THE MOST IMPORTANT CONCERNS OF PRIVATE LIFE; AND PARTICULARLY SHEWING BY S. RICHARDSON. COMPLETE IN FOUR VOLUMES. VOL. IV. LEIPZIG BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ 1862. THE HISTORY OF CLARISSA HARLOWE. LETTER I. Miss Clarissa Harlowe to Mrs. Norton. Monday night, July 24. MY DEAR MRS. NORTON, had made her take, as you wrote me word in your former. I was afraid that all such freedoms would be attributed to me. And I am sure, that nothing but my own apHAD I not fallen into fresh trou-plication to my friends, and a full bles, which disabled me for several conviction of my contrition, will days from holding a pen, I should procure me favour. Least of all not have forborne enquiring after can I expect, that either your meyour health, and that of your son; diation or hers (both of whose fond for I should have been but too and partial love of me is so well ready to impute your silence to known) will avail me. the cause, to which, to my very great concern, I find it was owing. I pray to Heaven, my dear good friend, to give you comfort in the way most desirable to yourself. I am exceedingly concerned at Miss Howe's writing about me to friends. I do assure you, that my I was as ignorant of her intention so to do, as of the contents of her letter. Nor has she yet let me know (discouraged, I suppose, by her ill success) that she did write. It is impossible to share the delight which such charming spirits give, without the inconvenience that will attend their volatility. So mixed are our best enjoyments! It was but yesterday that I wrote to chide the dear creature for freedoms of that nature, which her unseasonably expressed love for me Clarissa. IV. She then gives a brief account of the arrest: of her dejection under it: of her apprehensions of being carried to her former lodgings: of Mr. Lovelace's avowed innocence, as to that insult: of her release by Mr. Belford: of Mr. Lovelace's promise not to molest her: of her clothes being sent her: of the earnest desire of all his friends, and of himself, to marry her: of Miss Howe's advice to comply with their requests: and of her declared resolution rather to die, than be his, sent to Miss Howe, to be given to his relations, but as the day before. After which she thus proceeds: Now, my dear Mrs. Norton, you will be surprised, perhaps, that I should have returned such an answer: but, when you have every 1 thing before you, you, who know house where I am, are courteous me so well, will not think me and honest. There is a widow wrong. And, besides, I am upon who lodges in it [have I not said so a better preparation, than for an formerly?] a good woman; who is earthly husband. the better for having been a profi Nor let it be imagined, my dear cient in the school of affliction. and ever venerable friend, that An excellent school! my dear my present turn of mind proceeds Mrs. Norton, in which we are from gloominess or melancholy: for taught to know ourselves, to be although it was brought on by dis- able to compassionate and bear appointment (the world shewing with one another, and to look up me early, even at my first rushing to a better hope. into it, its true and ugly face;) yet I hope, that it has obtained a better root, and will every day more and more, by its fruits, demonstrate to me, and to all my friends, that it has. I have as humane a physician (whose fees are his least regard) and as worthy an apothecary, as ever patient was visited by. My nurse is diligent, obliging, silent, and sober. So I am not unhappy without: and within I hope, my dear Mrs. Norton, that I shall be every day more and more happy within.. I have written to my sister. Last Friday I wrote. So the dye is thrown. I hope for a gentle answer. But, perhaps, they will not vouchsafe me any. It is my first No doubt, it would be one of direct application, you know. I the greatest comforts I could wish Miss Howe had left me to my know, to have you with me: you, own workings in this tender point. who love me so dearly: who have It will be a great satisfaction to been the watchful sustainer of my me to hear of your perfect re- helpless infancy: you, by whose covery, and that my foster-brother precepts I have been so much beis out of danger. But why, said I, nefited! In your dear bosom out of danger?. When can this be could I repose all my griefs: and justly said of creatures, who hold by your piety and experience in by so uncertain a tenure? This is the ways of Heaven, should I be one of those forms of common strengthened in what I am still to speech, that proves the frailty and go through. the presumption of poor mortals, at the same time. But, as it must not be, I will acquiesce; and so, I hope, will you: Don't be uneasy you cannot for you see in what respects I am answer your wishes to be with not unhappy; and in those that I me. I am happier than I could am, they lie not in your power to have expected to be among mere remedy. strangers. It was grievous at Then, as I have told you, I have first; but use reconciles every all my clothes in my own possesthing to us. The people of the sion. So I am rich enough, as to cies. this world, in common convenien-you, although but with my pen, after having found your censures You see, my venerable and dear so dreadfully justified as they have friend, that I am not always turn-been. ing the dark side of my prospects, I have not the courage to write in order to move compassion; a to my father himself, nor yet to trick imputed to me, too often, by my mother. And it is with tremmy hard-hearted sister; when, if bling, that I address myself to I know my own heart, it is above you, to beg of you to intercede for all trick or artifice. Yet I hope me, that my father will have the at last I shall be so happy, as to goodness to revoke that heaviest receive benefit rather than reproach part of the very heavy curse he from this talent, if it be my talent. laid upon me, which relates to At last, I say; for whose heart HEREAFTER; for, as to the HERE, I have 1 hitherto moved? - Not one, have indeed met with my punishment I am sure, that was not prede- from the very wretch in whom I was termined in my favour. supposed to place my confidence. As I hope not for restoration to favour, I may be allowed to be very earnest on this head: yet will I not use any arguments in support of my request, because I am sure my father, were it in his power, would not have his poor child miserable for ever. As to the day I have passed it, as I ought to pass it. It has been a very heavy day to me! More for my friends sake, too, than for my own! How did they use to pass it!— What a festivity! How have they now passed it? To imagine it, how grievous! Say not, that those are cruel, who I have the most grateful sense suffer so much for my fault; and of my mother's goodness in sendwho, for eighteen years together, ing me up my clothes. I would rejoiced in me, and rejoiced me by have acknowledged the favour the their indulgent goodness! But I moment I received them, with the will think the rest! - Adieu, my most thankful duty, but that I dearest Mrs. Norton! feared any line from me would be unacceptable. LETTER II. Adieu! I would not give fresh offence: so will decline all other commendations of duty and love: appeal Miss Clarissa Harlowe to Miss Arabella ing to my heart for both, where Harlowe. Friday, July 21. Ir, my dearest sister, I did not both are flaming with an ardour that nothing but death can extinguish: therefore only subscribe think the state of my health very myself, without so much as a precarious, and that it was my duty to take this step, I should hardly have dared to approach name, My dear and happy sister, |