Добавил:
ivanov666
Опубликованный материал нарушает ваши авторские права? Сообщите нам.
Вуз:
Предмет:
Файл:Clarissa V. The history of a young lady
.pdf
CLARISSA • V
Yet I do assure you, that I have not made any resolutions
that will be a tie upon me.
I have indeed expressed myself with vehemence upon
the occasion. Who could forbear to do so? But it is not my
way to resolve in matters of moment, till opportunity brings
the execution of my purposes within my reach. We shall see by
what manner of spirit this young man will be actuated on his
recovery. If he continue to brave and defy a family, which he
has so irreparably injured – if – but resolutions depending
upon future contingencies are best left to future determination, as I just now hinted.
Mean time, I will own that I think my cousin’s arguments
unanswerable. No good man but must be infl uenced by
them. – But, alas! Sir, who is good?
As to your arguments; I hope you will believe me, when
I assure you, as I now do, that your opinion and your reasonings have, and will always have, great and deserved weight
with me; and that I respect you still more than I did, if possible, for your expostulations in support of my cousin’s pious
injunctions to me. They come from you, Sir, with the greatest
propriety, as her executor and representative; and likewise as
you are a man of humanity, and a well-wisher to both parties.
I am not exempt from violent passions, Sir, any more than
your friend; but then I hope they are only capable of being
raised by other people’s insolence, and not by my own arrogance. If ever I am stimulated by my imperfections and my resentments to act against my judgment and my cousin’s injunctions, some such refl ections as these that follow will run away
with my reason. Indeed they are always present with me.
231
SAMUEL RICHARDSON
In the fi rst place; my own disappointment: who came over
with the hope of passing the remainder of my days in the conversation of a kinswoman so beloved; and to whom I have
a double relation as her cousin and trustee.
Then I refl ect, too, too often perhaps for my engagements to her in her last hours, that the dear creature could
only forgive for herself. She, no doubt, is happy: but who shall
forgive for a whole family, in all its branches made miserable
for their lives?
That the more faulty her friends were as to her, the more
enormous his ingratitude, and the more inexcusable – What!
Sir, was it not enough that she suffered what she did for him,
but the barbarian must make her suffer for her sufferings for
his sake? – Passion makes me express this weakly; passion refuses the aid of expression sometimes, where the propriety of
a resentment prima facie declares expression to be needless.
I leave it to you, Sir, to give this refl ection its due force.
That the author of this diffusive mischief perpetuated it
premeditatedly, wantonly, in the gaiety of his heart. To try my
cousin, say you, Sir! To try the virtue of a Clarissa, Sir! – Has she
then given him any cause to doubt her virtue? – It could not
be. – If he avers that she did, I am indeed called upon – but
I will have patience.
That he carried her, as now appears, to a vile brothel, purposely to put her out of all human resource; himself out of
the reach of all human remorse: and that, fi nding her proof
against all the common arts of delusion, base and unmanly
arts were there used to effect his wicked purposes. Once dead,
the injured saint, in her will, says, he has seen her.
232
CLARISSA • V
That I could not know this, when I saw him at M. Hall:
that, the object of his attempts considered, I could not suppose there was such a monster breathing as he: that it was
natural for me to impute her refusal of him rather to transitory resentment, to consciousness of human frailty, and
mingled doubts of the sincerity of his offers, than to villanies,
which had given the irreversible blow, and had at that instant
brought her down to the gates of death, which in a very few
days enclosed her.
That he is a man of defi ance: a man who thinks to awe every one by his insolent darings, and by his pretensions to superior courage and skill.
That, disgrace as he is to his name, and to the character of
a gentleman, the man would not want merit, who, in vindication of the dishonoured distincion, should expunge and blot
him out of the worthy list.
That the injured family has a son, who, however unworthy of such a sister, is of a temper vehement, unbridled, fi erce;
unequal, therefore, (as he has once indeed been found,) to
a contention with this man: the loss of which son, by a violent death on such an occasion, and by a hand so justly hated,
would complete the misery of the whole family; and who, nevertheless, resolves to call him to account, if I do not; his very
misbehaviour, perhaps, to such a sister, stimulating his perverse heart to do her memory the more signal justice; though
the attempt might be fatal to himself.
Then, Sir, to be a witness, as I am every hour, to the calamity and distress of a family to which I am related; every
one of whom, however averse to an alliance with him while it
233
SAMUEL RICHARDSON
had not place, would no doubt have been soon reconciled to
the admirable creature, had the man (to whom, for his family
and fortunes, it was not a disgrace to be allied) done her but
common justice!
To see them hang their pensive heads; mope about, shunning one another; though formerly never used to meet but to
rejoice in each other; affl icting themselves with refl ections,
that the last time they respectively saw the dear creature, it was
here or there, at such a place, in such an attitude; and could
they have thought that it would have been the last? – Every
one of them reviving instances of her excellencies that will for
a long time make their very blessings a curse to them!
Her closet, her chamber, her cabinet, given up to me to disfurnish, in order to answer (now too late obliging!) the legacies bequeathed; unable themselves to enter them; and even
making use of less convenient back stairs, that they may avoid
passing by the doors of her apartment!
Her parlour locked up; the walks, the retirements, the summer-house in which she delighted, and in which she used to
pursue her charming works; that in particular, from which she
went to the fatal interview, shunned, or hurried by, or over!
Her perfections, nevertheless, called up to remembrance,
and enumerated; incidents and graces, unheeded before, or
passed over in the group of her numberless perfections, now
brought back into notice, and dwelt upon!
The very servants allowed to expatiate upon these praiseful topics to their principals! Even eloquent in their praises!
The distressed principals listening and weeping! Then to see
them break in upon the zealous applauders, by their impa-
234
CLARISSA • V
tience and remorse, and throw abroad their helpless hands,
and exclaim; then again to see them listen to hear more of
her praises, and weep again – they even encouraging the servants to repeat how they used to be stopt by strangers to ask
after her, and by those who knew her, to be told of some new
instances to her honour – how aggravating all this!
In dreams they see her, and desire to see her; always an angle, and accompanied by angels; always clad in robes of light;
always endeavouring to comfort them, who declare, that they
shall never more know comfort!
What an example she set! How she indited! How she drew!
How she wrought! How she talked! How she sung! How she
played! Her voice music! Her accent harmony!
Her conversation how instructive! how sought after!
The delight of persons of all ages, of both sexes, of all ranks!
Yet how humble, how condescending! Never were dignity and
humility so illustriously mingled!
At other times, how generous, how noble, how charitable,
how judicious in her charities! In every action laudable! In every
attitude attractive! In every appearance, whether full-dressed,
or in the housewife’s more humble garb, equally elegant, and
equally lovely! Like, or resembling, Miss Clarissa Harlowe, they
now remember to be a praise denoting the highest degree of
excellence, with every one, whatever person, action, or rank,
spoken of. – The desirable daughter; the obliging kinswoman;
the affectionate sister, (all envy now subsided!) the faithful,
the warm friend; the affable, the kind, the benevolent mistress! – Not one fault remembered! All their severities called
235
SAMUEL RICHARDSON
cruelties: mutually accusing each other; each him and herself;
and all to raise her character, and torment themselves.
Such, Sir, was the angel, of whom the vilest of men has deprived the world! You, Sir, who know more of the barbarous
machinations and practices of this strange man, can help me to
still more infl aming reasons, were they needed, why a man,
not perfect, may stand excused to the generality of the world,
if he should pursue his vengeance; and the rather, as through
an absence of six years, (high as just report, and the promises of
her early youth from childhood, had raised her in his esteem,)
he could not till now know one half of her excellencies – till
now! that we have lost, for ever lost, the admirable creature! –
But I will force myself from the subject, after I have repeated that I have not yet made any resolutions that can bind me.
Whenever I do, I shall be glad they may be such as may merit
the honour of your approbation.
I send you back the copies of the posthumous letters. I see
the humanity of your purpose, in the transmission of them to
me; and I thank you most heartily for it. I presume, that it is
owing to the same laudable consideration, that you kept back
the copy of that to the wicked man himself.
I intend to wait upon Miss Howe in person with the diamond ring, and such other of the effects bequeathed to her as
are here. I am, Sir,
Your most faithful and obliged servant, WM. MORDEN.
[Mr. Belford, in his answer to this letter, farther enforces
the lady’s dying injunctions; and rejoices that the Colonel has
made no vindictive resolutions; and hopes every thing from
236
CLARISSA • V
his prudence and consideration, and from his promise given to
the dying lady.
He refers to the seeing him in town on account of the dreadful ends of two of the greatest criminals in his cousin’s affair.
“This, says he, together with Mr. Lovelace’s disorder of mind,
looks as if Providence had already taken the punishment of
these unhappy wretches into its own hands.”He desires
the Colonel will give him a day’s notice of his coming to town,
lest otherwise he may be absent at the time – this he does,
though he tells him not the reason, with a view to prevent
a meeting between him and Mr. Lovelace; who might be in
town (as he apprehends,) about the same time, in his way to
go abroad.]
LETTER XLVI
Colonel Morden, to John Belford, Esq.
Tuesday, Sept. 26.
DEAR SIR,
I cannot help congratulating myself as well as you that
we have already got through with the family every article of
the will where they have any concern.
You left me a discretional power in many instances; and, in
pursuance of it, I have had my dear cousin’s personal jewels,
and will account to you for them, at the highest price, when
I come to town, as well as for other matters that you were
pleased to intrust to my management.
These jewels I have presented to my cousin Dolly Hervey, in acknowledgement of her love to the dear departed.
I have told Miss Howe of this; and she is as well pleased with
what I have done as if she had been the purchaser of them
herself. As that young lady has jewels of her own, she could
only have wished to purchase these because they were her
beloved friend’s. – The grandmother’s jewels are also valued; and the money will be paid me for you, to be carried to
the uses of the will.
238
CLARISSA • V
Mrs. Norton is preparing, by general consent, to enter upon
her offi ce as housekeeper at The Grove. But it is my opinion
that she will not be long on this side Heaven.
I waited upon Miss Howe myself, as I told you I would, with
what was bequeathed to her and her mother. You will not be
displeased, perhaps, if I make a few observations with regard to
that young lady, so dear to my beloved cousin, as you have not
a personal acquaintance with her.
There never was a fi rmer or nobler friendship in women,
than between my dear cousin and Miss Howe, to which this
wretched man had given a period.
Friendship, generally speaking, Mr. Belford, is too fervent
a fl ame for female minds to manage: a light that but in few of
their hands burns steady, and often hurries the sex into fl ight
and absurdity. Like other extremes, it is hardly ever durable.
Marriage, which is the highest state of friendship, generally
absorbs the most vehement friendships of female to female;
and that whether the wedlock be happy, or not.
What female mind is capable of two fervent female friendships at the same time? – This I mention as a general observation; but the friendship that subsisted between these two
ladies affords a remarkable exception to it: which I account
for from those qualities and attainments in both, which, were
they more common, would furnish more exceptions still in favour of the sex.
Both had an enlarged, and even a liberal education: both
had minds thirsting after virtuous knowledge; great readers
both; great writers – [and early familiar writing I take to be
one of the greatest openers and improvers of the mind that
239
SAMUEL RICHARDSON
man or woman can be employed in.] Both generous. High in
fortune, therefore above that dependence each on the other
that frequently destroys that familiarity which is the cement of friendship. Both excelling in different ways, in which
neither sought to envy the other. Both blessed with clear and
distinguishing faculties; with solid sense; and, from their fi rst
intimacy, [I have many of my lights, Sir, from Mrs. Norton,]
each seeing something in the other to fear, as well as to love;
yet making it an indispensable condition of their friendship,
each to tell the other of her failings; and to be thankful for
the freedom taken. One by nature gentle; the other made so by
her love and admiration of her exalted friend – impossible
that there could be a friendship better calculated for duration.
I must, however, take the liberty to blame Miss Howe for
her behaviour to Mr. Hickman. And I infer from it, that even
women of sense are not to be trusted with power.
By the way, I am sure I need not desire you not to communicate to this fervent young lady the liberties I have taken with
her character.
I dare say my cousin could not approve of Miss Howe’s behaviour to this gentleman; a behaviour which is talked of by as
many as know Mr. Hickman and her. Can a wise young lady be
easy under such censure? She must know it.
Mr. Hickman is really a very worthy man. Every body
speaks well of him. But he is gentle-dispositioned, and he
adores Miss Howe; and love admits not of an air of even due
dignity to the object of it. Yet will Mr. Hickman hardly ever
get back the reins he has yielded up; unless she, by carrying
too far the power of which she seems at present too sensible,
240
Соседние файлы в предмете [НЕСОРТИРОВАННОЕ]