To show the consistence of his actions, as they now appear, with his views and principles, as he lays them down in his first letters, it may be not amiss to refer the reader to his letters, 34, 35.
See also Letter 30—and Letter 40 for Clarissa’s early opinion of Mr. Lovelace.—Whence the coldness and indifference to him, which he so repeatedly accuses her of, will be accounted for, more to her glory, than to his honour. ↩
See Letter 159. ↩
See Letter 159. ↩
As this letter of the Lady to Miss Howe contains no new matter, but what may be collected from one of those of Mr. Lovelace, it is omitted. ↩
In Pamela, Letter 124 these reasons are given, and are worthy of every parent’s consideration, as is the whole Letter, which contains the debate between Mr. B. and his Pamela, on the important subject of mothers being nurses to their own children. ↩
See Letter 161 ↩
See Letter 202. ↩
See Letter 110. ↩
See Letter 110. See also Letters 108 and 109. ↩
See Letter 131. ↩
See Letter 108. ↩
See Letter 110. ↩
See Letter 140. ↩
See Letter 177. ↩
See Letter 201. ↩
See Letter 110. ↩
See Letter 125. ↩
See Letter 177. ↩
See Letter 200. ↩
See Letter 148, paragraph 12, and Letter 150, paragraph 12.—Where the reader will observe, that the proposal came from herself; which, as it was also mentioned by Mr. Lovelace, (towards the end of Letter 155). She may be presumed to have forgotten. So that Clarissa had a double inducement for acquiescing with the proposed method of carrying on the correspondence between Miss Howe and herself by Wilson’s conveyance, and by the name of Laetitia Beaumont. ↩
See Letter 178. ↩
He means the freedom Mr. Lovelace took with her before the fire-plot. See Letter 220. When Miss Howe wrote this letter she could not know of that. ↩
See Letter 221. ↩
See Mrs. Norton’s letter, Letter 180. ↩
See Letter 230. ↩
The fashionable wigs at that time. ↩
And here, Belford, lest thou, through inattention, should be surprised at my assurance, let me remind thee (and that, thus, by way of marginal observation, that I may not break in upon my narrative) that this my intrepidity concerted (as I have from time to time acquainted thee) in apprehension of such an event as has fallen out. For had not the dear creature already passed for my wife before no less than four worthy gentlemen of family and fortune?460 and before Mrs. Sinclair, and her household, and Miss Partington? And had she not agreed to her uncle’s expedient, that she should pass for such, from the time of Mr. Hickman’s application to that uncle;461 and that the worthy Capt. Tomlinson should be allowed to propagate that belief: as he had actually reported to two families (they possibly to more); purposely that it might come to the ears of James Harlowe; and serve for a foundation for uncle John to build his reconciliation-scheme upon?462 And canst thou think that nothing was meant by all this contrivance? and that I am not still further prepared to support my story?
Indeed, I little thought, at the time that I formed these precautionary schemes, that she would ever have been able, if willing, to get out of my hands. All that I hoped I should have occasion to have recourse to them for, was only, in case I should have the courage to make the grand attempt, and should succeed in it, to bring the dear creature (and this out of tenderness to her, for what attention did I ever yet pay to the grief, the execrations, the tears of a woman I had triumphed over?) to bear me in her sight: to expostulate with me, to be pacified by my pleas, and by my own future hopes, founded upon the reconciliatory-project, upon my reiterated vows, and upon the Captain’s assurances. Since in that case, to forgive me, to have gone on with me, for a week, would have been to forgive me, to have gone on with me, forever. And that, had my eligible life of honour taken place, her trials would all have been then over: and she would have known nothing but gratitude, love, and joy, to the end of one of our lives. For never would I, never could I, have abandoned such an admirable creature as this. Thou knowest I never was a sordid villain to any of her inferiors—Her inferiors, I may say—For who