Clarissa Harlowe Samuel Richardson (most important books to read TXT) 📖

my years, perhaps I may review them.

Mrs. Norton used to say, from her reverend father, that youth was the time of life for imagination and fancy to work in: then, were a writer to lay by his works till riper years and experience should direct the fire rather to glow, than to flame out; something between both might perhaps be produced that would not displease a judicious eye.

In a third division, folded up separately, are all Mr. Lovelace’s letters written to me since he was forbidden this house, and copies of my answers to them. I expect that you will break the seals of this parcel, and when you have perused them all, give me your free opinion of my conduct.

By the way, not a line from that man!⁠—Not one line! Wednesday I deposited mine. It remained there on Wednesday night. What time it was taken away yesterday I cannot tell: for I did not concern myself about it, till towards night; and then it was not there. No return at ten this day. I suppose he is as much out of humour as I.⁠—With all my heart.

He may be mean enough perhaps, if ever I should put it into his power, to avenge himself for the trouble he has had with me.⁠—But that now, I dare say, I never shall.

I see what sort of a man the encroacher is. And I hope we are equally sick of one another.⁠—My heart is vexedly easy, if I may so describe it.⁠—Vexedly⁠—because of the apprehended interview with Solmes, and the consequences it may be attended with: or else I should be quite easy; for why? I have not deserved the usage I receive: and could I be rid of Solmes, as I presume I am of Lovelace, their influence over my father, mother, and uncles, against me, could not hold.

The five guineas tied up in one corner of a handkerchief under the linen, I beg you will let pass as an acknowledgement for the trouble I give your trusty servant. You must not chide me for this. You know I cannot be easy unless I have my way in these little matters.

I was going to put up what little money I have, and some of my ornaments; but they are portable, and I cannot forget them. Besides, should they (suspecting me) desire to see any of the jewels, and were I not able to produce them, it would amount to a demonstration of an intention which would have a guilty appearance to them.

Friday, One o’clock, in the wood-house.

No letter yet from this man! I have luckily deposited my parcel, and have your letter of last night. If Robert take this without the parcel, pray let him return immediately for it. But he cannot miss it, I think: and must conclude that it is put there for him to take away. You may believe, from the contents of yours, that I shall immediately write again.⁠—

Clarissa Harlowe.

Letter 70 Miss Howe, to Miss Clarissa Harlowe

Thursday Night, March 30

The fruits of my inquiry after your abominable wretch’s behaviour and baseness at the paltry alehouse, which he calls an inn, prepare to hear.

Wrens and sparrows are not too ignoble a quarry for this villainous goshawk!⁠—His assiduities; his watchings; his nightly risks; the inclement weather he journeys in; must not be all placed to your account. He has opportunities of making everything light to him of that sort. A sweet pretty girl, I am told⁠—innocent till he went thither⁠—Now! (Ah! poor girl!) who knows what?

But just turned of seventeen!⁠—His friend and brother-rake (a man of humour and intrigue) as I am told, to share the social bottle with. And sometimes another disguised rake or two. No sorrow comes near their hearts. Be not disturbed, my dear, at his hoarsenesses! his pretty, Betsey, his Rosebud, as the vile wretch calls her, can hear all he says.

He is very fond of her. They say she is innocent even yet⁠—her father, her grandmother, believe her to be so. He is to fortune her out to a young lover!⁠—Ah! the poor young lover!⁠—Ah! the poor simple girl!

Mr. Hickman tells me, that he heard in town, that he used to be often at plays, and at the opera, with women; and every time with a different one⁠—Ah! my sweet friend!⁠—But I hope he is nothing to you, if all this were truth.⁠—But this intelligence, in relation to this poor girl, will do his business, if you had been ever so good friends before.

A vile wretch! Cannot such purity in pursuit, in view, restrain him? but I leave him to you!⁠—There can be no hope of him. More of a fool, than of such a man. Yet I wish I may be able to snatch the poor young creature out of his villainous paws. I have laid a scheme to do so; if indeed she be hitherto innocent and heart-free.

He appears to the people as a military man, in disguise, secreting himself on account of a duel fought in town; the adversary’s life in suspense. They believe he is a great man. His friend passes for an inferior officer; upon a footing of freedom with him. He, accompanied by a third man, who is a sort of subordinate companion to the second. The wretch himself with but one servant.

O my dear! how pleasantly can these devils, as I must call them, pass their time, while our gentle bosoms heave with pity for their supposed sufferings for us!

I have sent for this girl and her father; and am just now informed, that I shall see them. I will sift them thoroughly. I shall soon find out such a simple thing as this, if he has not corrupted her already⁠—and if he has, I shall soon find out that too.⁠—If more art than nature appears either in her or her father, I shall give them both up⁠—but depend upon it, the girl’s undone.

He is said to be fond