Family accuse her of it before.
As I have, as concisely as I could, pointed out the Difference in thechief Characters of _Clarissa_, all necessary to the same End; in thesame Manner could I go through the Scenes all as essentially different,and rising in due Proportion one after another, till all the vastBuilding centers in the pointed View of the Author's grand Design. Ofall the lively well-painted Scenes in the four first Volumes, and allthose in the fifth previous to the Night before the Outrage, mention butany of the most trifling Circumstances, such as _Clarissa's_ tornRufles, and Remembrance places her before us in all the Agonies of thestrongest Distress; insulted over by the vilest of Women, and prostrateon her Knees imploring Mercy at the Feet of her Destroyer. Her Madnessequals, (I had almost said exceeds) any Thing of the Kind that ever waswritten: That hitherto so peculiar Beauty in King _Lear_, of preservingthe Character even in Madness, appears strongly in _Clarissa_: the sameself-accusing Spirit, the same humble Heart, the same pious Mindbreathes in her scattered Scrapes of Paper in the midst of her Frenzy;and the Irregularity and sudden broken Starts of her Expressions alonecan prove that her Senses are disordered. Her Letter to _Lovelace_,where, even in Madness, _galling_ Reproach drops not from her Pen, andwhich contains only Supplications that she may not be fartherpersecuted, speaks the very Soul of _Clarissa_, and by the Author of herStory could have been wrote for no one but herself. Whoever can read herearnest Request to _Lovelace_, that she may not be exposed in a publicMad-house, on the Consideration that it might injure _him_, withoutbeing overwhelmed in Tears, I am certain has not in himself the Concordof sweet Sounds, and, must, as _Shakespear_ says, be fit for Treasons,Stratagems and Spoils. And to close at once, all I will say of theAuthor's Conduct in regard to the managing (what seems mostunmanageable) the Mind even when overcome by Madness, he has no wheremade a stronger Contrast between _Clarissa_ and _Lovelace_, or kept theCharacters more distinct than in their Madness. I have already mentionedhow much _Clarissa's_ Thoughts in her Frenzy apparently flow from thesame Channel, tho' more disturbed and less clear than when heruninterrupted Reason kept on its steady Course. _Lovelace's_ Characteris not less preserved: his Pen or Tongue indeed seldom uttered the Wordsof Reason, but the same overbearing Passions, the same Pride of Heartthat had accustomed him to strut in his fancy'd Superiority, makes himcondemn all the World but himself; and rave that _Bedlam_ might beenlarged, imagining, that a general Madness had seized Mankind, and healone was exempt from the dreadful Catastrophy.
In the Penknife Scene _Clarissa_ is firmly brave; her Soul abhorredSelf-murder, nor would she, as she told Miss _Howe_, willingly like aCoward quit her Post; but in this Case, could she not have awed_Lovelace_ into Distance, tho' _her_ Hand had pointed the Knife, yetmight _he_ properly have been said to have struck the Blow. Thepicturesque Attitude of all present, when _Clarissa_ suddenly cries out,'God's Eye is upon us' has an Effect upon the Mind that can only befelt; and that it would be a weak and vain Effort for Language toattempt to utter.
In the Prison Scene _Clarissa_ exerts a different kind of Bravery.Insult and Distress, Cold and Hardships, to what she was accustomed to,she bears almost in silence; and by her Suffering without repining,without Fear of any thing but _Lovelace_, she is the strongest Proof ofwhat _Shakespear_ says, that
_----where the greater Malady is fixt The Lesser is scarce felt----_
And let those who have accused _Clarissa_ of having a suspicious Temper,from her being apt to suspect _Lovelace_, here confess, that it must bethe Person's Fault at whom her Suspicion is level'd, when she wants thatCompanion of a great Mind, a generous Confidence; for how soon does_Belford's_ honest Intentions breaking forth in the Manner in which headdresses her, make her rely on the known Friend of her Destroyer, andthe publick Companion of all his Rakeries. Nor can I here pass by inperfect Silence, the noble Simplicity with which _Clarissa_ sums up herStory to Mrs. _Smith_ and Mrs. _Lovick_; for I think 'tis the strongestPattern that can be imagined of that Simplicity which strikes to theHeart, and melts the Soul with all the softer Passions.
In Colonel _Morden's_ Account of the conveying the lifeless Remains ofthe Divine _Clarissa_ to be interred in the Vault of her Ancestors, hisvery Words keep solemn Pace with the Herse which incloses her onceanimated, now lifeless, Form. Step by Step we still attend her; turnwith the Horses as they take the Bye-road to _Harlow-place_; start withthe wretched, guilty Family, at the first Stroke of the mournful tollingBell; are fixed in Amazement with the lumbering heavy Noise of the Herseup the paved inner Court-yard: But when the Servant comes in to acquaintthe Family with its Arrival, and we read this Line, _He spoke not, hecould not speak; he looked, he bowed, and withdrew_, we catch theServant's silent Grief; our Words are choaked, and our Sensations growtoo strong for Utterance. The awful Respect paid to _Clarissa's_ Memoryby those Persons, who generally both rejoice and mourn in Noise andClamour, is inimitably beautiful. But even in this solemn Scene theAuthor has not forgot the Characters of the principal Actors in it: Forthe barbarous Wretches who could drive _Clarissa_ from her native Home,and by their Cruelty hurl her to Destruction, could not shed Tears forher Loss, without mingled Bitterness, and sharp-cutting Recriminationson each other; every one striving to rid themselves of the painful Load,and to throw it doubly on their former Companions in Guilt. The Motheronly, as she was the least guilty, deplores the heavy Loss with softmelting Tears, and lets Self-accusations flow from her trembling Lips.
On the Arrival of Miss _Howe_, we turn from the slow moving Herse, tothe rapid Chariot-wheels that fly to bring the warm Friend, all glowingwith the most poignant lively Grief, to mourn her lost _Clarissa_. Hereagain the Description equals the noble Subject. Miss _Howe_, at thefirst striking Sight of _Clarissa_ in her Coffin, could only by franticActions express the labouring Anguish that perturbed her Breast. And weaccompany her in Horror, when she first impatiently pushes aside theCoffin Lid. In short, we sigh, we rave, and we weep with her.
What I felt at Colonel _Morden's_ Description at the Funeral, is exactlypainted in the Letter wrote by Mr. _Belford_ in Answer to thatDescription, where he says,
'You croud me Sir, methinks, into the silent, slow Procession--Now with the sacred Bier do I enter the Porch--'[C]
[C] See Vol. VII. Letter 74. Page 292. in _Clarissa_.
But it would be endless to mention all the moving tragic Scenes, thatare now crouding into my Mind, in _Clarissa_; all judiciouslyinterspersed with Scenes of comic Humour; such as the Behaviour of_Lovelace_ at the Ball; the Meeting between him and Mr. _Hickman_;_Lovelace's_ Description of what he calls his Tryal before Lord M--andthe Ladies; with some others equally calculated to relieve the Mind fromfixing too long on mournful melancholy Ideas.
Finely has the Author of _Clarissa_ set forth what is true, and what isfalse Honour. When _Lovelace_ upbraids _Belford_ for not preserving_Clarissa_, by betraying his own villainous Plots and Machinations todestroy her; and says, 'I am sure now, that I would have thanked theefor it with all my Heart, and thought thee more a Father and a Friend,than my real Father and my best Friend.'
All false Shame has he exposed, by shewing the Beauties of an open andfrank Heart in _Clarissa's_ charming Simplicity, when she tells Mrs._Smith_, in a publick Shop, that she had been in Prison; and when in aLetter to Lady _Betty Laurance_ she declares, that _the Disgrace shecannot hide from herself, she is not sollicitous to conceal from theWorld_.
True and false Friendship was never more beautifully displayed than inthis Work; the firm, the steady Flame that burns in the fixed Affectionbetween _Clarissa_ and Miss _Howe_, which, in _Clarissa's_ Words, _hasVirtue for its Base_, is both well described and accounted for byColonel _Morden_; and that Chaff and Stubble, as she well calls it, that_has not Virtue for its Base_, is inimitably painted by _Belford_, inhis Account of _Mowbray's_ Behaviour to the dying _Belton_. 'It is sucha horrid thing (says he) to think of, that a Man who had lived in suchstrict Terms of Amity with another (the Proof does not come out so as tosay Friendship) who had pretended so much L
ove for him, could not bearto be out of his Company, would ride an hundred Miles an End to enjoyit, and would fight for him, be the Cause right or wrong; yet now couldbe so little moved to see him in such Misery of Body and Mind as to beable to rebuke him, and rather ridicule than pity him; because he wasmore affected by what he felt, than he had seen a Malefactor (hardenedperhaps by Liquor, and not softened by previous Sickness) on his goingto Execution.'
What Merit has _Clarissa_ in breaking up and dispersing this profligateKnot of Friends, that, in the first Volume, are represented soformidable as to terrify all the honest People in the Neighbourhood, whorejoice when they go up to Town again. _She_ was to revenge on_Lovelace_ his Miss _Betterton_, his _French_ Devotee, his _French_Countess, the whole Hecatomb which he boasts that he had in differentClimes sacrificed to his _Nemesis_, and all this by the