LETTER LXXXVII.
Miss Howe, To Miss Clarissa Harlowe.
Thursday, Aug. 31.
The Colonel thought fit once, in praise of Lovelace's generosity, to say, That (as a man of honour ought) he took to himself all the blame, and acquitted you of the consequences of the precipitate step you had taken; since, he said, as you loved him, and was in his power, he must have had advantages, which he would not have had, if you had continued at your Father's, or at any Friend's.
Mighty generous, I said (were it as he supposed) in such insolent reflecters, the best of them; who pretend to clear reputations which never had been sullied, but by falling into their dirty acquaintance! But in this case, I averred, that there was no need of anything but the strictest truth, to demonstrate Lovelace to be the blackest of villains, You the brightest of innocents.
This he catched at; and swore, that if any-thing uncommon or barbarous in the seduction were to come out, as indeed one of the Letters you had written to your friends, and which had been shewn him, very strongly implied; that is to say, my dear, If anything worse than perjury, breach of faith, and abuse of a generous confidence, were to appear!---[Sorry fellows!] he would avenge his Cousin to the utmost.
I urged your apprehensions on this head from your last Letter to me: But he seemed capable of taking
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what I know to be real Greatness of Soul, in an unworthy sense: For he mentioned directly upon it, the expectation your friends had, that you should (previous to any Reconciliation with them) appear in a Court of Justice against the villain---IF you could do it with the advantage to yourself that I hinted might be done.
And truly, if I would have heard him, he had indelicacy enough to have gone into the nature of the proof of the crime upon which they wanted to have Lovelace arraigned. Yet this is a Man improved by Travel and Learning!---Upon my word, my dear, I, who have been accustomed to the most delicate conversation ever since I had the honour to know you, despise this Sex from the gentleman down to the peasant.
Upon the whole, I find that Mr. Morden has a very slender notion of womens virtue, in particular cases: For which reason I put him down, tho' your favourite, as one who is not entitled to cast the first stone.
I never knew a man who deserved to be well thought of himself for his morals, who had a slight opinion of the virtue of our Sex in general. For if, from the difference of Temperament and Education, Modesty, Chastity, and Piety too, are not to be found in our Sex preferably to the other, I should think it a sign of a much worse nature in ours.
He even hinted (as from your relations indeed) that it is impossible but there must be some Will where there is much Love.
These sort of reflections are enough to make a woman, who has at heart her own honour and the honour of her Sex, to look about her, and consider what she is doing when she enters into an intimacy with these wretches; since it is plain, that whenever she throws herself into the power of a man, and leaves for him her Parents or Guardians, every-body will
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believe it to be owing more to her good luck than to her discretion, if there be not an end of her virtue: And let the man be ever such a villain to her, she must take into her own bosom a share of his guilty baseness.
I am writing to general cases. You, my dear, are out of the question. Your Story, as I have heretofore said, will afford a Warning, as well as an Example (a) [Footnote a: 1Kb]: For who is it that will not infer, That if a person of your fortune, character, and merit, could not escape ruin, after she had put herself into the power of her hyæna, what can a thoughtless, fond, giddy creature expect?
Every man, they will say, is not a Lovelace---True: But then, neither is every woman a Clarissa. And allow for the one and for the other, the Example must be of general use.
I prepared Mr. Morden to expect your appointment of Mr. Belford for an office that we both hope he will have no occasion to act in (nor any-body else) for many, very many years to come. He was at first startled at it: But, upon hearing such of your reasons as had satisfied me, he only said, That such an appointment, were it to take place, would exceedingly affect his other Cousins.
He told me, He had a copy of Lovelace's Letter to you, imploring your pardon, and offering to undergo any penance to procure it (b) [Footnote b: 1Kb]; and also of your Answer to it (c) [Footnote c: 1Kb].
I find he is willing to hope, that a Marriage between you may still take place; which, he says, will heal up all breaches.
I would have written much more---On the following particulars especially; to wit, Of the wretched man's hunting you out of your lodgings: Of your relations strange implacableness [I am in haste, and
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cannot think of a word you would like better, just now]: Of your last Letter to Lovelace, to divert him from pursuing you: Of your Aunt Hervey's penitential conversation with Mrs. Norton: Of Mr. Wyerley's renewed address: Of your lessons to me in Hickman's behalf, so approveable, were the man more so than he is: But indeed I am offended with him at this instant, and have been for these two days:---Of your Sister's transportation-project:---And of twenty and twenty other things:---But am obliged to leave off, to attend my two Cousins Spilsworth, and my Cousin Herbert, who are come to visit us on account of my Mother's illness---I will therefore dispatch these by Rogers; and if my Mother gets well soon (as I hope she will) I am resolved to see you in town, and tell you every-thing that now is upon my mind; and particularly, mingling my Soul with yours, how much I am, and will ever be, my dearest, dear friend,
Your affectionate
Anna Howe.
Let Rogers bring one line, I pray you. I thought to have sent him this afternoon; but he cannot set out till to-morrow morning early.
I cannot express how much your staggering lines, and your conclusion, affect me!