LETTER IV

  MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWEFRIDAY, APRIL 28.

  Mr. Lovelace is returned already. My brother's projects were hispretence. I could not but look upon this short absence as an evasion ofhis promise; especially as he had taken such precautions with the peoplebelow; and as he knew that I proposed to keep close within-doors. Icannot bear to be dealt meanly with; and angrily insisted that he shoulddirectly set out for Berkshire, in order to engage his cousin, as he hadpromised.

  O my dearest life, said he, why will you banish me from your presence? Icannot leave you for so long a time as you seem to expect I should. Ihave been hovering about town ever since I left you. Edgware was thefarthest place I went to, and there I was not able to stay two hours, forfear, at this crisis, any thing should happen. Who can account for theworkings of an apprehensive mind, when all that is dear and valuable toit is at stake? You may spare yourself the trouble of writing to any ofyour friends, till the solemnity has passed that shall entitle me to giveweight to your application. When they know we are married, yourbrother's plots will be at an end; and your father and mother, anduncles, must be reconciled to you. Why then should you hesitate a momentto confirm my happiness? Why, once more, would you banish me from you?Why will you not give the man who has brought you into difficulties, andwho so honourably wishes to extricate you from them, the happiness ofdoing so?

  He was silent. My voice failed to second the inclination I had to saysomething not wholly discouraging to a point so warmly pressed.

  I'll tell you, my angel, resumed he, what I propose to do, if you approveof it. I will instantly go out to view some of the handsome new squaresor fine streets round them, and make a report to you of any suitablehouse I find to be let. I will take such a one as you shall choose, andset up an equipage befitting our condition. You shall direct the whole.And on some early day, either before, or after we fix, [it must be atyour own choice], be pleased to make me the happiest of men. And thenwill every thing be in a desirable train. You shall receive in your ownhouse (if it can be so soon furnished as I wish) the compliments of allmy relations. Charlotte shall visit you in the interim: and if it takeup time, you shall choose whom you will honour with your company, first,second, or third, in the summer months; and on your return you shall findall that was wanting in your new habitation supplied, and pleasures in aconstant round shall attend us. O my angel, take me to you, instead ofbanishing me from you, and make me your's for ever.

  You see, my dear, that here was no day pressed for. I was not uneasyabout that, and the sooner recovered myself, as there was not. But,however, I gave him no reason to upbraid me for refusing his offer ofgoing in search of a house.

  He is accordingly gone out for this purpose. But I find that he intendsto take up his lodging here tonight; and if to-night, no doubt on othernights, while he is in town. As the doors and windows of my apartmenthave good fastenings; as he has not, in all this time, given me cause forapprehension; as he has the pretence of my brother's schemes to plead; asthe people below are very courteous and obliging, Miss Horton especially,who seems to have taken a great liking to me, and to be of a gentlertemper and manners than Miss Martin; and as we are now in a tolerableway; I imagine it would look particular to them all, and bring me into adebate with a man, who (let him be set upon what he will) has always agreat deal to say for himself, if I were to insist upon his promise: onall these accounts, I think, I will take no notice of his lodging here,if he don't.--Let me know, my dear, your thoughts of every thing.

  You may believe I gave him back his bank note the moment I saw him.

  FRIDAY EVENING.

  Mr. Lovelace has seen two or three houses, but none to his mind. But hehas heard of one which looks promising, he says, and which he is toinquire about in the morning.

  SATURDAY MORNING.

  He has made his inquiries, and actually seen the house he was told oflast night. The owner of it is a young widow lady, who is inconsolablefor the death of her husband; Fretchville her name. It is furnishedquite in taste, every thing being new within these six months. Hebelieves, if I like not the furniture, the use of it may be agreed for,with the house, for a time certain: but, if I like it, he will endeavourto take the one, and purchase the other, directly.

  The lady sees nobody; nor are the best apartments above-stairs to beviewed, till she is either absent, or gone into the country; which shetalks of doing in a fortnight, or three weeks, at farthest, and to livethere retired.

  What Mr. Lovelace saw of the house (which were the saloon and twoparlours) was perfectly elegant; and he was assured all is of a piece.The offices are also very convenient; coach-house and stables at hand.

  He shall be very impatient, he says, till I see the whole; nor will he,if he finds he can have it, look farther till I have seen it, except anything else offer to my liking. The price he values not.

  He now does nothing but talk of the ceremony, but not indeed of the day.I don't want him to urge that--but I wonder he does not.

  He has just now received a letter from Lady Betty Lawrance, by aparticular hand; the contents principally relating to an affair she hasin chancery. But in the postscript she is pleased to say very respectfulthings of me.

  They are all impatient, she says, for the happy day being over; whichthey flatter themselves will ensure his reformation.

  He hoped, he told me, that I would soon enable him to answer their wishesand his own.

  But, my dear, although the opportunity was so inviting, he urged not forthe day. Which is the more extraordinary, as he was so pressing formarriage before we came to town.

  He was very earnest with me to give him, and four of his friends, mycompany on Monday evening, at a little collation. Miss Martin and MissHorton cannot, he says, be there, being engaged in a party of their own,with two daughters of Colonel Solcombe, and two nieces of Sir AnthonyHolmes, upon an annual occasion. But Mrs. Sinclair will be present, andshe gave him hope of the company of a young lady of very great fortuneand merit (Miss Partington), an heiress to whom Colonel Sinclair, itseems, in his lifetime was guardian, and who therefore calls Mrs.Sinclair Mamma.

  I desired to be excused. He had laid me, I said, under a mostdisagreeable necessity of appearing as a married person, and I would seeas few people as possible who were to think me so.

  He would not urge it, he said, if I were much averse: but they were hisselect friends; men of birth and fortune, who longed to see me. It wastrue, he added, that they, as well as his friend Doleman, believed wewere married: but they thought him under the restrictions that he hadmentioned to the people below. I might be assured, he told me, that hispoliteness before them should be carried into the highest degree ofreverence.

  When he is set upon any thing, there is no knowing, as I have saidheretofore, what one can do.* But I will not, if I can help it, be madea show of; especially to men of whose character and principles I have nogood opinion. I am, my dearest friend,

  Your ever affectionateCL. HARLOWE.

  * See Letter I. of this volume. See also Vol. II. Letter XX.

  ***

  [Mr. Lovelace, in his next letter, gives an account of his quick return: of his reasons to the Lady for it: of her displeasure upon it: and of her urging his absence from the safety she was in from the situation of the house, except she were to be traced out by his visits.]

  I was confoundedly puzzled, says he, on this occasion, and on herinsisting upon the execution of a too-ready offer which I made her to godown to Berks, to bring up my cousin Charlotte to visit and attend her.I made miserable excuses; and fearing that they would be mortallyresented, as her passion began to rise upon my saying Charlotte wasdelicate, which she took strangely wrong, I was obliged to screen myselfbehind the most solemn and explicit declarations.

  [He then repeats those declarations, to the same effect with the account she gives of them.]

  I began, says he, with an intention to keep my life of honour in view, inthe declaration
I made her; but, as it has been said of a certain oratorin the House of Commons, who more than once, in a long speech, convincedhimself as he went along, and concluded against the side he set outintending to favour, so I in earnest pressed without reserve formatrimony in the progress of my harangue, which state I little thought ofurging upon her with so much strength and explicitness.

  [He then values himself upon the delay that his proposal of taking and furnishing a house must occasion.

  He wavers in his resolutions whether to act honourable or not by a merit so exalted.

  He values himself upon his own delicacy, in expressing his indignation against her friends, for supposing what he pretends his heart rises against them for presuming to suppose.]

  But have I not reason, says he, to be angry with her for not praising mefor this my delicacy, when she is so ready to call me to account for theleast failure in punctilio?--However, I believe I can excuse her too,upon this generous consideration, [for generous I am sure it is, becauseit is against myself,] that her mind being the essence of delicacy, theleast want of it shocks her; while the meeting with what is so veryextraordinary to me, is too familiar to her to obtain her notice, as anextraordinary.

  [He glories in the story of the house, and of the young widow possessor of it, Mrs. Fretchville he calls her; and leaves it doubtful to Mr. Belford, whether it be a real or a fictitious story.

  He mentions his different proposals in relation to the ceremony, which he so earnestly pressed for; and owns his artful intention in avoiding to name the day.]

  And now, says he, I hope soon to have an opportunity to begin myoperations; since all is halcyon and security.

  It is impossible to describe the dear creature's sweet and silentconfusion, when I touched upon the matrimonial topics.

  She may doubt. She may fear. The wise in all important cases willdoubt, and will fear, till they are sure. But her apparent willingnessto think well of a spirit so inventive, and so machinating, is a happyprognostic for me. O these reasoning ladies!--How I love these reasoningladies!--'Tis all over with them, when once love has crept into theirhearts: for then will they employ all their reasoning powers to excuserather than to blame the conduct of the doubted lover, let appearancesagainst him be ever so strong.

  Mowbray, Belton, and Tourville, long to see my angel, and will be there.She has refused me; but must be present notwithstanding. So generous aspirit as mine is cannot enjoy its happiness without communication. If Iraise not your envy and admiration both at once, but half-joy will be thejoy of having such a charming fly entangled in my web. She thereforemust comply. And thou must come. And then I will show thee the pride andglory of the Harlowe family, my implacable enemies; and thou shalt joinwith me in my triumph over them all.

  I know not what may still be the perverse beauty's fate: I want thee,therefore, to see and admire her, while she is serene and full of hope:before her apprehensions are realized, if realized they are to be; and ifevil apprehensions of me she really has; before her beamy eyes have losttheir lustre; while yet her charming face is surrounded with all itsvirgin glories; and before the plough of disappointment has thrown upfurrows of distress upon every lovely feature.

  If I can procure you this honour you will be ready to laugh out, as Ihave often much ado to forbear, at the puritanical behaviour of themother before this lady. Not an oath, not a curse, nor the least freeword, escapes her lips. She minces in her gait. She prims up herhorse-mouth. Her voice, which, when she pleases, is the voice ofthunder, is sunk into an humble whine. Her stiff hams, that have notbeen bent to a civility for ten years past, are now limbered intocourtesies three deep at ever word. Her fat arms are crossed beforeher; and she can hardly be prevailed upon to sit in the presence of mygoddess.

  I am drawing up instructions for ye all to observe on Monday night.

  SATURDAY NIGHT.

  Most confoundedly alarmed!--Lord, Sir, what do you think? cried Dorcas--My lady is resolved to go to church to-morrow! I was at quadrille withthe women below.--To church! said I, and down I laid my cards. Tochurch! repeated they, each looking upon the other. We had done playingfor that night.

  Who could have dreamt of such a whim as this?--Without notice, withoutquestions! Her clothes not come! No leave asked!--Impossible she shouldthink of being my wife!--Besides, she don't consider, if she go tochurch, I must go too!--Yet not to ask for my company! Her brother andSingleton ready to snap her up, as far as she knows!--Known by herclothes--her person, her features, so distinguished!--Not such anotherwoman in England!--To church of all places! Is the devil in the girl?said I, as soon as I could speak.

  Well, but to leave this subject till to-morrow morning, I will now giveyou the instructions I have drawn up for your's and your companions'behaviour on Monday night.

  ***

  Instructions to be observed by John Belford, Richard Mowbray, Thomas Belton, and James Tourville, Esquires of the Body to General Robert Lovelace, on their admission to the presence of his Goddess.

  Ye must be sure to let it sink deep into your heavy heads, that there isno such lady in the world as Miss Clarissa Harlowe; and that she isneither more nor less than Mrs. Lovelace, though at present, to my shamebe it spoken, a virgin.

  Be mindful also, that your old mother's name, after that of her motherwhen a maid, is Sinclair: that her husband was a lieutenant-colonel, andall that you, Belford, know from honest Doleman's letter of her,* thatlet your brethren know.

  * See Letter XXXVIII. Vol. III.

  Mowbray and Tourville, the two greatest blunderers of the four, I allowto be acquainted with the widow and nieces, from the knowledge they hadof the colonel. They will not forbear familiarities of speech to themother, as of longer acquaintance than a day. So I have suited theirparts to their capacities.

  They may praise the widow and the colonel for people of great honour--butnot too grossly; nor to labour the point so as to render themselvessuspected.

  The mother will lead ye into her own and the colonel's praises! andTourville and Mowbray may be both her vouchers--I, and you, and Belton,must be only hearsay confirmers.

  As poverty is generally suspectible, the widow must be got handsomelyaforehand; and no doubt but she is. The elegance of her house andfurniture, and her readiness to discharge all demands upon her, whichshe does with ostentation enough, and which makes her neighbours, Isuppose, like her the better, demonstrate this. She will propose to dohandsome things by her two nieces. Sally is near marriage--with aneminent woollen-draper in the Strand, if ye have a mind to it; for thereare five or six of them there.

  The nieces may be inquired after, since they will be absent, as personsrespected by Mowbray and Tourville, for their late worthy uncle's sake.

  Watch ye diligently every turn of my countenance, every motion of my eye;for in my eye, and in my countenance will ye find a sovereign regulator.I need not bid you respect me mightily: your allegiance obliges you tothat: And who that sees me, respects me not?

  Priscilla Partington (for her looks so innocent, and discretion so deep,yet seeming so softly) may be greatly relied upon. She will accompanythe mother, gorgeously dressed, with all her Jew's extravagance flamingout upon her; and first induce, then countenance, the lady. She has hercue, and I hope will make her acquaintance coveted by my charmer.

  Miss Partington's history is this: the daughter of Colonel Sinclair'sbrother-in-law: that brother-in-law may have been a Turkey-merchant, orany merchant, who died confoundedly rich: the colonel one of herguardians [collateral credit in that to the old one:] whence she alwayscalls Mrs. Sinclair Mamma, though not succeeding to the trust.

  She is just come to pass a day or two, and then to return to hersurviving guardian's at Barnet.

  Miss Partington has suitors a little hundred (her grandmother, analderman's dowager, having left her a great additional fortune,) and isnot trusted out of her guardian's house without an old governante, notedfor discretion, except to her Mamma Sinclair, with whom now-and
-then sheis permitted to be for a week together.

  Pris. will Mamma-up Mrs. Sinclair, and will undertake to court herguardian to let her pass a delightful week with her--Sir Edward Holden hemay as well be, if your shallow pates will not be clogged with too manycircumstantials. Lady Holden, perhaps, will come with her; for shealways delighted in her Mamma Sinclair's company, and talks of her, andher good management, twenty times a day.

  Be it principally thy part, Jack, who art a parading fellow, and aimestat wisdom, to keep thy brother-varlets from blundering; for, as thou musthave observed from what I have written, we have the most watchful andmost penetrating lady in the world to deal with; a lady worth deceiving!but whose eyes will piece to the bottom of your shallow souls the momentshe hears you open. Do you therefore place thyself between Mowbray andTourville: their toes to be played upon and commanded by thine, if theygo wrong: thy elbows to be the ministers of approbation.

  As to your general behaviour; no hypocrisy!--I hate it: so does mycharmer. If I had studied for it, I believe I could have been anhypocrite: but my general character is so well known, that I should havebeen suspected at once, had I aimed at making myself too white. But whatnecessity can there be for hypocrisy, unless the generality of the sexwere to refuse us for our immoralities? The best of them love to havethe credit for reforming us. Let the sweet souls try for it: if theyfail, their intent was good. That will be a consolation to them. And asto us, our work will be the easier; our sins the fewer: since they willdraw themselves in with a very little of our help; and we shall save aparcel of cursed falsehoods, and appear to be what we are both to angelsand men.--Mean time their very grandmothers will acquit us, and reproachthem with their self-do, self-have, and as having erred againstknowledge, and ventured against manifest appearances. What folly,therefore, for men of our character to be hypocrites!

  Be sure to instruct the rest, and do thou thyself remember, not to talkobscenely. You know I never permitted any of you to talk obscenely.Time enough for that, when ye grow old, and can ONLY talk. Besides, yemust consider Prisc.'s affected character, my goddess's real one. Farfrom obscenity, therefore, do not so much as touch upon the doubleentendre. What! as I have often said, cannot you touch a lady's heartwithout wounding her ear?

  It is necessary that ye should appear worse men than myself. You cannothelp appearing so, you'll say. Well, then, there will be the lessrestraint upon you--the less restraint, the less affectation.--And ifBelton begins his favourite subject in behalf of keeping, it may make metake upon myself to oppose him: but fear not; I shall not give theargument all my force.

  She must have some curiosity, I think, to see what sort of men mycompanions are: she will not expect any of you to be saints. Are younot men born to considerable fortunes, although ye are not all of youmen of parts? Who is it in this mortal life that wealth does notmislead? And as it gives people the power of being mischievous, does itnot require great virtue to forbear the use of that power? Is not thedevil said to be the god of this world? Are we not children of thisworld? Well, then! let me tell thee my opinion--It is this, that were itnot for the poor and the middling, the world would probably, long ago,have been destroyed by fire from Heaven. Ungrateful wretches the rest,thou wilt be apt to say, to make such sorry returns, as they generally domake, to the poor and the middling!

  This dear lady is prodigiously learned in theories. But as to practices,as to experimentals, must be, as you know from her tender years, a merenovice. Till she knew me, I dare say, she did not believe, whatever shehad read, that there were such fellows in the world, as she will see inyou four. I shall have much pleasure in observing how she'll stare ather company, when she finds me the politest man of the five.

  And so much for instructions general and particular for your behaviour onMonday night.

  And let me add, that you must attend to every minute circumstance, whetheryou think there be reason for it, or not. Deep, like golden ore,frequently lies my meaning, and richly worth digging for. The hint ofleast moment, as you may imagine it, is often pregnant with events of thegreatest. Be implicit. Am I not your general? Did I ever lead you onthat I brought you not off with safety and success?--Sometimes to your ownstupid astonishment.

  And now, methinks, thou art curious to know, what can be my view inrisquing the displeasure of my fair-one, and alarming her fears, afterfour or five halcyon days have gone over our heads? I'll satisfy thee.

  The visiters of the two nieces will crowd the house.--Beds will bescarce:--Miss Partington, a sweet, modest, genteel girl, will beprodigiously taken with my charmer;--will want to begin a friendship withher--a share in her bed, for one night only, will be requested. Whoknows, but on that very Monday night I may be so unhappy as to givemortal offence to my beloved? The shyest birds may be caught napping.Should she attempt to fly me upon it, cannot I detain her? Should sheactually fly, cannot I bring her back, by authority civil or uncivil, ifI have evidence upon evidence that she acknowledged, though but tacitly,her marriage? And should I, or should I not succeed, and she forgive me,or if she but descend to expostulate, or if she bear me in her sight,then will she be all my own. All delicacy is my charmer. I long to seehow such a delicacy, on any of these occasions, will behave, and in mysituation it behoves me to provide against every accident.

  I must take care, knowing what an eel I have to do with, that the littleriggling rogue does not slip through my fingers. How silly should Ilook, staring after her, when she had shot from me into the muddy river,her family, from which with so much difficulty I have taken her!

  Well then, here are--let me see--How many persons are there who, afterMonday night, will be able to swear that she has gone by my name,answered to my name, had no other view in leaving her friends but to goby my name? her own relations neither able nor willing to deny it.--First, here are my servants, her servant, Dorcas, Mrs. Sinclair, Mrs.Sinclair's two nieces, and Miss Partington.

  But for fear these evidences should be suspected, here comes the jet ofthe business--'No less than four worthy gentlemen of fortune and family,who were all in company such a night particularly, at a collation towhich they were invited by Robert Lovelace, of Sandoun-hall, in thecounty of Lancaster, esquire, in company with Magdalen Sinclair, widow,and Priscilla Partington, spinster, and the lady complainant, when thesaid Robert Lovelace addressed himself to the said lady, on a multitudeof occasions, as his wife; as they and others did, as Mrs. Lovelace;every one complimenting and congratulating her upon her nuptials; andthat she received such their compliments and congratulations with noother visible displeasure or repugnance, than such as a young bride, fullof blushes and pretty confusion, might be supposed to express upon suchcontemplative revolvings as those compliments would naturally inspire.'Nor do thou rave at me, Jack, nor rebel. Dost think I brought the dearcreature hither for nothing?

  And here's a faint sketch of my plot.--Stand by, varlets--tanta-ra-ra-ra!--Veil your bonnets, and confess your master!