FOOTNOTES

MADAM,

Youseem'd so pleased last Night with my Conversion, if I may be allowed the Expression, to your FavouriteClarissa, that I could not seek any Repose till I had thrown together my Thoughts on that Head, in order to address them to you; nor am I ashamed to confess, that the Author's Design is more noble, and his Execution of it much happier, than I even suspected till I had seen the whole.

In a Series of familiar Letters to relate a compleat Story, where there is such a Variety of Characters, every one conducing to the forming the necessary Incidents to the Completion of that Story, is a Method so intirely new, so much an Original mannerof Writing, that the Author seems to have a Right to make his own Laws; the painting Nature is indeed his Aim, but the Vehicle by which he conveys his lively Portraits to the Mind is so much his own Invention, that he may guide and direct it according to his own Will and Pleasure.Aristotledrew his Rules of Epic Poetry fromHomer, and notHomerfromAristotle; tho' had they been Cotemporaries, perhaps that had been a Point much disputed.

As to the Length of the Story, I fancy that Complaint arises from the great Earnestness the Characters inspire the Reader with to know the Event; and on a second Reading may vanish.Clarissais not intended as a Dramatic, but as a real Picture of human Life, where Story can move but slowly, where the Characters must open by degrees, and the Reader's own Judgment form them from different Parts, as they display themselves according to the Incidents that arise. As for Example; the Behaviour ofLovelaceto his Rosebud must strike every one, at first View, with Admiration and Esteem for him; but when his Character comes to blaze in its full Light, it is very apparent that his Pride preserved his Rosebud, as well as it destroyedClarissa; likeMilton's Satan, he could for a Time cloath himself like an Angel of Light, even to the Deception ofUriel.

For neither Man, nor Angel can discernHypocrisie; the only Evil that walksInvisible, except to God alone,By his permissive Will, through Heaven and Earth:And oft, though Wisdom wake, Suspicion sleepsAt Wisdom's Gate, and to SimplicityResigns her Charge; while Goodness thinks no illWhere no Ill seems; which now, for once, beguiledUriel,though Regent of the Sun, and heldThe sharpest-sighted Spirit of all in Heaven.

Proud Spirits, such asSatan'sandLovelace's, requireObjects of their Envy, as Food for their Malice, to compleat their Triumph and applaud their own Wickedness. From this Incident of the Rosebud, and the subsequent Behaviour ofLovelace, arises a Moral which can never be too often inculcated; namely, that Pride has the Art of putting on the Mask of Virtue in so many Forms, that we must judge of a Man upon the whole, and not from any one single Action.

A celebratedFrenchCritick says, that

'An indifferent Wit may form a vast Design in his Imagination; but it must be anExtraordinary Geniusthat can work his Design, and fashion it according to Justness and Proportion: For 'tis necessary that the same Spiritreign throughout; that all contribute to the sameEnd; and that all thePartsbear a secretRelationto each other; all depend on this Relation and Alliance.'

Let the nicest Critick examine the Story ofClarissa, and see if in any Point it fails of coming up exactly to the before-mentioned Rule. The Author had all Nature before him, and he has beautifully made use of every Labyrinth, in the several Minds of his Characters, to lead him to his purposed End.

The Obstinacy of oldHarlowe, who never gave up a Point, unaccustomed to Contradiction, and mad with the Thoughts of his own Authority; the Pride of the two old Batchelors, who had lived single, in order to aggrandize their Family; the overbearing impetuousJames Harlowe'sEnvy, arising from Ambition; the two-fold Envy ofArabella Harlowe, springing from Rivalship in general Admiration, as well as in particular liking; the former more rough, the latter more sly, tho' full as keen in her Reproaches; the constant Submission of Mrs.Harlowe, and the mad Vanity ofLovelace, all conspire to the grand End of distressing and destroying the poorClarissa; whose Misfortune it was to be placed amongst a Set of Wretches, who were every one following the Bent of their own peculiar Madness, without any Consideration for the innocent Victim who was to fall a Sacrifice to their ungovernable Passions. And here I must observe, how artfully the Author has conducted the opening of his different Characters, as they became more interested in his Story. The Correspondence between MissHoweandClarissa, with some characteristical Letters of each of theHarlowes, as these were then his principal Actors, chiefly compose the two first Volumes.

In the third, fourth and fifth Volumes,Lovelacecomes prancing before the Reader's Eye; gives an unrestrained Loose to his uncurbed Imagination, and ripens into full-blown Baseness that Blackness of Mind, which had hitherto only shot forth in Buds but barely visible. The strong and lively Pen ofLovelacewas most proper to relate the most active Scenes. But when his mischievous Heart and plotting Head had left him no farther use for his wild Fancies, than to rave and curse his own Folly,Belfordtakes up the Pen, and carries on the Story; and in the sixth and seventh Volumes, ColonelMorden(who has hitherto made but a small Appearance) is brought upon the Stage, and his Character, as he is to be the Instrument of the Death ofLovelace, is as strongly painted, and as necessary to the Completion of the Story, as are any of the others. It is astonishing to me how much the different Stile of each Writer is in every Particular preserved; indeed so characteristically preserved, that when I readClarissa'sLetters, where every Line speaks the considerate and the pious Mind, I could almost think the Authorhad studied nothing but her Character. When MissHowe'slively Vein and flowing Wit entertains me, She appears to have been the principal Person in his Thoughts. When Mrs.Harlowewrites, her broken half-utter'd Sentences are so many Pictures of the broken timorous Spirit of Meekness tyrannised over, that dictates to her Pen. When Mr.Harlowecondescends to sign his much valued Name, the dictatorial Spirit of an indulged tyrannic Disposition indites every arbitrary Command. WhenJohn Harlowewrites, the Desire of proving himself of Consequence from his Fortune, and being infected with the Idea of his Niece's Disobedience, (a Word which continually resounded through his Family) plainly appear to be the only two Causes that make him insist on her Compliance. InAnthony Harlowe'sRoughness and Reproaches, 'The Sea prosper'd Gentleman, (asClarissasays) not used to any but elemental Controul, and even ready to buffet that, blusters as violently as the Winds he was accustomed to be angry at.' InJames Harlowe'sLetters, we see how the Mind infected with the complicated Distemper of Envy, Insolence and Malice, can blot the fair Paper, and poison it with its Venom. InArabella Harlowe, the sly Insinuations of feminine Envy break forth in every taunting Word, and she could "speak Daggers, tho' she dared not use them." But, to imitate our Author, in turning suddenly from this detestable Picture, how does every Line of the good Mrs.Nortonshew us a Mind inured to, and patiently submitting to Adversity, looking on Contempt as the unavoidable Consequence of Poverty, and fixed in a firm and pious Resolution of going through all the Vicissitudes of this transitory Life without repining.

Nor does the Author fail more in the preservingthe characteristical Difference of Stile in the Writings ofMowbray,BelfordandLovelace.

Mowbray, tho' he writes but two Letters in the whole, yet do those two so strongly fix his Character, that every Reader may see of what Consequence he made himself to Society; namely, to act the blustring Part in a Club of Rakes, to fill a Seat at the Table, and assist in keeping up the Roar and Noise necessary to make the Life of such Assemblies.

Mr.Belford'sLetters prove, that he acts the second Part under Mr.Lovelace; he follows the Paths the other beats through the thorny Labyrinths of wild Libertinism; he has not the lively Humour ofLovelace, altho' in Understanding I think he has rather the Advantage; and his not being quite so lively, is owing to his not giving such a loose to every unbridled Fancy; but he has less Pride, and consequently more Humanity: this appears in the many Arguments he makes use of to his Friend in favour ofClarissa; but these Arguments, as they are only the Produce of sudden Starts of Compassion, and have no fixed Principle for their Basis, could have no Weight withLovelace; and the fluctuating of a Mind sometimes intruded upon by the Force of Good-nature, and then again actuated by the Principles of Libertinism, is finely set before us byBelford'sWritings. And as there is a great Beauty throughout the whole ofClarissa, in the specific Difference of Stile preserved by every Writer, so is there an inimitable Beauty inBelforddiffering from himself, when he changes the State of his Mind; his Stile accompanies that Change, and he appears another Man. He was always more of the true Gentleman in his Stile thanLovelace, because his Will was not enough overbearing to break through all Bounds; but when his Mind is softned by the many different Deaths he is witness of, and he becomes animated byClarissa'sExample to think in earned of reforming his Life, the Gentleman and the Christian increase together, till he becomes at once the Executor ofClarissa'sWill, and, if I may be allowed the Expression, the Heir to her Principles.

InLovelace'sStile, his Humour, his Parts, his Pride, his wild Desire of throwing Difficulties in his own way, in order to conquer them, and exercise his own intriguing Spirit, break forth in every Line. His impetuous Will, unrestrained from his Infancy, as he himself complains, by his Mother, and long accustomed to bear down all before it, destroys the Gentleman, and equally every other amiable Qualification: For tho' a Knowledge of the Customs of the World may make a Man in Company, where he stays but a little while, appear polite; yet when that Man indulges himself in gratifying continually his own wild Humour, those who are intimate with him, must often have Cause to complain of his Unpoliteness; asClarissadoes ofLovelace. And by such Complaints ofClarissa, I think it is very apparent, that the Author designedLovelaceshould be unpolite, notwithstanding his Station, in order to prove that indulged overbearing Passions will trample under Foot every Bar that would stop them in their raging Course. But now I am upon the Subject of the different Stiles inClarissa, I must observe how strictly the Author has kept up in all the Writings of his Rakes to what he says ofLovelacein his Preface.

'That they preserve a Decency, as well in their Images, as in their Language, which is not always to be found in the Works of some of the most celebrated modern Writers, whose Subjects and Characters have less warranted the Liberties they have taken.'

The various Stiles adapted to the many differentCharacters inClarissamake so great a Variety, as would, it attended to, in a great Measure, answer any Objection that might otherwise fairly be raised to the Length of the Story.

There is one Thing has almost astonished me in the Criticisms I have heard onClarissa'sCharacter; namely, that they are in a Manner a Counterpart to the Reproaches cast on her in her Lifetime.

She has been called perverse and obstinate by many of her Readers;James Harlowecalled her so before them. Some say she was romantic; so saidBella; disobedient; all theHarlowesagree in that; a Prude; so saidSalley Martin; had a Mind incapable of Love; Mr.Lovelace'sAccusation; for he must found his Brutality on some Shadow of a Pretence, tho' he confesses at last it was but a Shadow, for that he knew the contrary the whole Time. Others say, she was artful and cunning, had the Talent only to move the Passions; the haughty Brother and spiteful Sister's Plea to banish her from her Parents Presence. I verily think I have not heardClarissacondemned for any one Fault, but the Author has made some of theHarlowes, or some of Mrs.Sinclair'sFamily accuse her of it before.

As I have, as concisely as I could, pointed out the Difference in the chief Characters ofClarissa, all necessary to the same End; in the same Manner could I go through the Scenes all as essentially different, and rising in due Proportion one after another, till all the vast Building centers in the pointed View of the Author's grand Design. Of all the lively well-painted Scenes in the four first Volumes, and all those in the fifth previous to the Night before the Outrage, mention but any of the most trifling Circumstances, such asClarissa'storn Rufles, and Remembrance places her before us in all theAgonies of the strongest Distress; insulted over by the vilest of Women, and prostrate on her Knees imploring Mercy at the Feet of her Destroyer. Her Madness equals, (I had almost said exceeds) any Thing of the Kind that ever was written: That hitherto so peculiar Beauty in KingLear, of preserving the Character even in Madness, appears strongly inClarissa: the same self-accusing Spirit, the same humble Heart, the same pious Mind breathes in her scattered Scrapes of Paper in the midst of her Frenzy; and the Irregularity and sudden broken Starts of her Expressions alone can prove that her Senses are disordered. Her Letter toLovelace, where, even in Madness,gallingReproach drops not from her Pen, and which contains only Supplications that she may not be farther persecuted, speaks the very Soul ofClarissa, and by the Author of her Story could have been wrote for no one but herself. Whoever can read her earnest Request toLovelace, that she may not be exposed in a public Mad-house, on the Consideration that it might injurehim, without being overwhelmed in Tears, I am certain has not in himself the Concord of sweet Sounds, and, must, asShakespearsays, be fit for Treasons, Stratagems and Spoils. And to close at once, all I will say of the Author's Conduct in regard to the managing (what seems most unmanageable) the Mind even when overcome by Madness, he has no where made a stronger Contrast betweenClarissaandLovelace, or kept the Characters more distinct than in their Madness. I have already mentioned how muchClarissa'sThoughts in her Frenzy apparently flow from the same Channel, tho' more disturbed and less clear than when her uninterrupted Reason kept on its steady Course.Lovelace'sCharacter is not less preserved: his Pen or Tongue indeed seldom uttered the Words of Reason, but the same overbearing Passions, the samePride of Heart that had accustomed him to strut in his fancy'd Superiority, makes him condemn all the World but himself; and rave thatBedlammight be enlarged, imagining, that a general Madness had seized Mankind, and he alone was exempt from the dreadful Catastrophy.

In the Penknife SceneClarissais firmly brave; her Soul abhorred Self-murder, nor would she, as she told MissHowe, willingly like a Coward quit her Post; but in this Case, could she not have awedLovelaceinto Distance, tho'herHand had pointed the Knife, yet mightheproperly have been said to have struck the Blow. The picturesque Attitude of all present, whenClarissasuddenly cries out, 'God's Eye is upon us' has an Effect upon the Mind that can only be felt; and that it would be a weak and vain Effort for Language to attempt to utter.

In the Prison SceneClarissaexerts 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 butLovelace, she is the strongest Proof of whatShakespearsays, that

——where the greater Malady isfixtThe Lesser is scarce felt——

And let those who have accusedClarissaof having a suspicious Temper, from her being apt to suspectLovelace, here confess, that it must be the Person's Fault at whom her Suspicion is level'd, when she wants that Companion of a great Mind, a generous Confidence; for how soon doesBelford'shonest Intentions breaking forth in the Manner in which he addresses her, make her rely on the known Friend of her Destroyer, and the publick Companion of all his Rakeries. Nor can I here pass by in perfect Silence, the noble Simplicity with whichClarissasums up her Story to Mrs.Smithand Mrs.Lovick; for I think 'tis the strongest Pattern that can be imagined of that Simplicity which strikes to the Heart, and melts the Soul with all the softer Passions.

In ColonelMorden'sAccount of the conveying the lifeless Remains of the DivineClarissato be interred in the Vault of her Ancestors, his very Words keep solemn Pace with the Herse which incloses her once animated, now lifeless, Form. Step by Step we still attend her; turn with the Horses as they take the Bye-road toHarlow-place; start with the wretched, guilty Family, at the first Stroke of the mournful tolling Bell; are fixed in Amazement with the lumbering heavy Noise of the Herse up the paved inner Court-yard: But when the Servant comes in to acquaint the Family with its Arrival, and we read this Line,He spoke not, he could not speak; he looked, he bowed, and withdrew, we catch the Servant's silent Grief; our Words are choaked, and our Sensations grow too strong for Utterance. The awful Respect paid toClarissa'sMemory by those Persons, who generally both rejoice and mourn in Noise and Clamour, is inimitably beautiful. But even in this solemn Scene the Author has not forgot the Characters of the principal Actors in it: For the barbarous Wretches who could driveClarissafrom her native Home, and by their Cruelty hurl her to Destruction, could not shed Tears for her Loss, without mingled Bitterness, and sharp-cutting Recriminations on each other; every one striving to rid themselves of the painful Load, and to throw it doubly on their former Companions in Guilt. The Mother only, as she was the least guilty, deplores the heavy Loss with soft melting Tears, and lets Self-accusations flow from her trembling Lips.

On the Arrival of MissHowe, we turn from the slow moving Herse, to the rapid Chariot-wheels that fly to bring the warm Friend, all glowing with the most poignant lively Grief, to mourn her lostClarissa. Here again the Description equals the noble Subject. MissHowe, at the first striking Sight ofClarissain her Coffin, could only by frantic Actions express the labouring Anguish that perturbed her Breast. And we accompany her in Horror, when she first impatiently pushes aside the Coffin Lid. In short, we sigh, we rave, and we weep with her.

What I felt at ColonelMorden'sDescription at the Funeral, is exactly painted in the Letter wrote by Mr.Belfordin Answer to that Description, where he says,

'You croud me Sir, methinks, into the silent, slow Procession—Now with the sacred Bier do I enter the Porch—'[C]

But it would be endless to mention all the moving tragic Scenes, that are now crouding into my Mind, inClarissa; all judiciously interspersed with Scenes of comic Humour; such as the Behaviour ofLovelaceat the Ball; the Meeting between him and Mr.Hickman;Lovelace'sDescription of what he calls his Tryal before Lord M—and the Ladies; with some others equally calculated to relieve the Mind from fixing too long on mournful melancholy Ideas.

Finely has the Author ofClarissaset forth what is true, and what is false Honour. WhenLovelaceupbraidsBelfordfor not preservingClarissa, by betraying his own villainous Plots and Machinations to destroy her; and says, 'I am sure now, that I would have thanked thee for 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 and frank Heart inClarissa'scharming Simplicity, when she tells Mrs.Smith, in a publick Shop, that she had been in Prison; and when in a Letter to LadyBetty Lauranceshe declares, thatthe Disgrace she cannot hide from herself, she is not sollicitous to conceal from the World.

True and false Friendship was never more beautifully displayed than in this Work; the firm, the steady Flame that burns in the fixed Affection betweenClarissaand MissHowe, which, inClarissa'sWords,has Virtue for its Base, is both well described and accounted for by ColonelMorden; and that Chaff and Stubble, as she well calls it, thathas not Virtue for its Base, is inimitably painted byBelford, in his Account ofMowbray'sBehaviour to the dyingBelton. 'It is such a horrid thing (says he) to think of, that a Man who had lived in such strict Terms of Amity with another (the Proof does not come out so as to say Friendship) who had pretended so much Love for him, could not bear to be out of his Company, would ride an hundred Miles an End to enjoy it, and would fight for him, be the Cause right or wrong; yet now could be so little moved to see him in such Misery of Body and Mind as to be able to rebuke him, and rather ridicule than pity him; because he was more affected by what he felt, than he had seen a Malefactor (hardened perhaps by Liquor, and not softened by previous Sickness) on his going to Execution.'

What Merit hasClarissain breaking up and dispersing this profligate Knot of Friends, that, in the first Volume, are represented so formidable as to terrify all the honest People in the Neighbourhood, who rejoice when they go up to Town again.Shewas to revenge onLovelacehis MissBetterton, hisFrenchDevotee, hisFrenchCountess, the wholeHecatomb which he boasts that he had in different Climes sacrificed to hisNemesis, and all this by the natural Effects of his own vile Actions, and her honest noble Simplicity; whilst she steadily pursues the bright Path of Innocence, and proposes to herself no other End, no not even in Thought, but to preserve untainted her spotless Mind, and diffuse Happiness to all around her.

I confess I was against the Story's ending unhappily, till I saw the Conclusion; but I now think the different Deaths of the many Persons (for in this Point also the Difference is as essentially preserved, as in the Characters or Scenes) who fall in the winding up the Catastrophy in the seventh Volume, produce as noble a Moral as can be invented by the Wit of Man.

The broken Spirit, the dejected Heart that pursue poorBeltonthrough his last Stage of Life (brought on by a lingering Illness, and ill Usage from an artful Woman to whom Vice had attached him, and increased by his Soul's being startled and awaked from that thoughtless Lethargy in which Vice had so long lulled him) naturally break forth in those fearful Tremors, those agonizing pannic Terrors of the Mind, which follow him to the End, and make a strong and lively Picture of the Terrors of Death first thought on, when Life was flying, and could no longer supply the flowing Blood and vital Heat that animates the mortal Frame.

Mrs.Sinclair'sDeath is very different; the Suddenness of her Departure had not given Time for a regular Decay of her Strength, and the same animal Spirits which used to support her in the noisy Roar of a profligate Life, now like so many Vultures preyed on her own Bosom, and assisted to express the dreadful Horrors of an unexpected Death.

Lovelace, when he comes to die, is full of Rage and Disappointment; his uncontrouled Spirit, unused to be baffled, cannot quietly submit to the great and universal Conqueror Death himself. On his Death-bed he is a lively Picture of the End of that worldly Wisdom which is Foolishness with God. His strong Imagination that assisted him to form and carry on thosecunningPlots which he pursued to his own Destruction, now assisted his Conscience to torment his Soul, and set before his Eyes the injured Innocent who would have contributed to the utmost of her Power that he might have spent all his Days in Peace and Joy. In short, he fluttered like a gay Butterfly in the Sunshine of Prosperity; he wandered from the Path that leads to Happiness: In the Bloom of Youth he fell a Sacrifice to his own Folly: his Life was a Life of Violence, and his Death was a Death of Rage.

Whilst the gentleClarissa'sDeath is the natural Consequence of her innocent Life; her calm and prepared Spirit, like a soft smooth Stream, flows gently on, till it slides from her Misfortunes, and she leaves the World free from Fear, and animated only by a lively Hope.

She wished her closing Scene might be happy.She had her Wish, (says the Author in his Postscript)it was happy.

Nothing ever made so strong a Contrast as the Deaths ofLovelaceandClarissa. Wild was the Life ofLovelace, rapid was his Death; gentle wasClarissa'sLife, softly flowed her latest Hours; the very WordDeathseems too harsh to describe her leaving Life, and her last Breath was like the soft playing of a western Breeze, all calm! all Peace! all Quiet!

The true Difference between the Virtuous and the Vicious lies in the Mind, where the Author ofClarissahas placed it;Lovelacesays well, when he views the persecutedClarissaa-sleep.

'See the Difference in our Cases; she the charming Injured can sweetly sleep, whilst the varlet Injurer cannot close his Eyes, and has been trying to no purpose the whole Night to divert his Melancholy, and to fly from himself.'

Rightly I think in the Author's Postscript is it observed, that what is called poetical Justice is chimerical, or rather anti-providential Justice; for God makes his Sun to shine alike on the Just and the Unjust. Why then should Man invent a kind of imaginary Justice, making the common Accidents of Life turn out favourable to the Virtuous only? Vain would be the Comforts spoken to the Virtuous in Affliction, in the sacred Writings, if Affliction could not be their Lot.

But the Author ofClarissahas in his Postscript quoted such undoubted Authorities, and given so many Reasons on the Christian System for his Catastrophy, that to say more on that Head would be but repeating his Words. The Variety of Punishments also of those guilty Persons in this Work who do not die, and the Rewards of those who are innocent, I could go through; had not that Postscript, and the Conclusion supposed to be writ by Mr.Belford, already done it to my Hands. Only one thing I must say, that I don't believe the most revengeful Person upon Earth could wish their worst Enemy in a more deplorable Situation, than ifLovelacein his Frenzy, in that charming picturesque Scene, where he is riding betweenUxbridgeandLondon, when his impatient Spirit is in suspence; and also when he hears ofClarissa'sDeath.

Thus have I just hinted at the Heads of the Characters, the Difference of the chief Scenes, and the Variety of the several Deaths, all the natural Consequences of the several Lives, and productive of the designed noble Moral inClarissa; and I think it may be fairly and impartially said, The Web is wove so strongly, every Part so much depending on and assisting each other, that to divide any of them, would be to destroy the whole.

[D]That many Things having full ReferencesTo one Consent, may work contrariously:As many Arrows, loosed several Ways,Come to one Mark, as many Ways meet in one Town,As many fresh Streams meet in one salt Sea,As many Lines close in the Dial's Center,So may a thousand Actions once afootEnd in one Purpose, and be all well bornWithout Defeat.

If what I have here said can be any Amusement to you, as it concerns your favouriteClarissa, my End will be answered. I am,

Madam,

Your's,&c.

Bellario.

MissGIBSONtoBELLARIO.

SIR,

YourGood-nature in sending me your Thoughts onClarissa, with a Design to give me Pleasure, I assure you is not thrown away; mayyou have equal Success in every generous Purpose that fills your Heart, and greater Happiness in this World, I am sure I cannot wish you.

Most truly, Sir, do you remark, that a Story told in this Manner can move but slowly, that the Characters can be seen only by such as attend strictly to the Whole; yet this Advantage the Author gains by writing in the present Tense, as he himself calls it, and in the first Person, that his Strokes penetrate immediately to the Heart, and we feel all the Distresses he paints; we not only weep for, but withClarissa, and accompany her, step by step, through all her Distresses.

I see her from the Beginning, in her happy State, beloved by all around her, studying to deserve that Love; obedient to her Parents, dependant on their Will by her own voluntary Act, when her Grandfather had put it in her Power to be otherwise; respectful and tender to her Brother and Sister; firm in her Friendship to MissHowe; grateful to good Mrs.Norton, who had carefully watched over her Infant Years, and delighted to form and instruct her Mind; kind to her Inferiors; beneficent to all the Poor, Miserable, and Indigent; and above all, cultivating and cherishing in her Heart the true Spirit of Christianity, Meekness, and Resignation; watchful over her own Conduct, and charitable to the Failings of others; unwilling to condemn, and rejoicing in every Opportunity to praise. But as the Laws of God and Man have placed a Woman totally in the Power of her Husband, I believe it is utterly impossible for any young Woman, who has any Reflection, not to form in her Mind some kind of Picture of the Sort of Man in whose Power she would chuse to place herself. ThatClarissadid so, I think, plainly appears, from her steady Resolutionto refuse any Man she could not obey with the utmost Chearfulness; and to whose Will she could not submit without Reluctance. She would have had her Husband a Man on whose Principles she could entirely depend; one in whom she might have placed such a Confidence, that she might have spoke her very Thoughts aloud; one from whom she might have gained Instruction, and from whose Superiority of Understanding she would have been pleased to have taken the Rules of her own Actions. She desired no Reserves, no separate Interest from her Husband; had no Plots, no Machinations to succeed in, and therefore wanted not a Man who by artful Flattery she could have cajoled madly to have worship'd her; a kind Indulgence, in what was reasonable, was all her Desire, and that Indulgence to arise from her own Endeavour to deserve it, and not from any Blindness cast before her Husband's Eyes by dazzling Beauty, or cunning Dissimulation; but, from her Infancy, having the Example daily before her of her Mother's being tyrannized over, notwithstanding her great Humility and Meekness, perhaps tyrannized over for that very Humility and Meekness. She thought a single Life, in all Probability, would be for her the happiest; cherishing in her Heart that Characteristic of a noble Mind, especially in a Woman, of wishing, as MissHowesays she did, to pass through Life unnoted.

In this State of Mind didLovelacefirst findClarissa. She liked him; his Person and Conversation were agreeable, but the Libertinism of his Character terrified her; and her Disapprobation of him restrained her from throwing the Reins over the Neck of a Passion she thought might have hurried her into Ruin. But when by his Artifices, and the Cruelty of her Friends, she was driven into his Power, hadhe not, to use her own Words, treated her with an Insolence unbecoming a Man, and kept her very Soul in suspence; fawning at her Feet to marry him, whilst, in the same Instant, he tried to confuse her by a Behaviour that put it out of her Power to comply with him; there was nothing that she would not have done to oblige him. Then indeed she plainly saw that her Principles and his Profligacy, her Simplicity and his Cunning, were not made to be joined; and when she found such was the Man she liked best, no Wonder her Desire of a single Life should return. She saw, indeed, her own Superiority overLovelace, but it was his Baseness that made her behold it. And here I must observe, that in the very same Breath in which she tells him,Her Soul's above him, she bids himleave her, that Thought more than any other makes her resolve, at all Events, to abandon him. Was this like exulting in her own Understanding, and proudly (as I have heard it said) wanting to dictate to the Man she intended for a Husband? Such a Woman, if I am not greatly mistaken, would not desire the Man to leave her because she saw her Soul was above him; but on the contrary, concealing from him, and disguising her Thoughts, would have set Art against Art, and been the more delighted to have drawn him in to have married her, that she might have deceived him, and enjoyed the Thoughts of her own Superiority for Life. As I remember, he never asks her fairly to marry him but once, and then she consents: But how different in every Action is she from the sly and artful Woman, who would have snatched at this Opportunity, and not have trusted him with a Moment's Delay, whilstClarissa, being then ill, consents, with a Confidence that nothing but her Goodness and Simplicity could have had in such a Man.

Tho'Clarissaunfortunately met withLovelace, yet I can imagine her with a Lover whose honest Heart, assimulating with hers, would have given her leave, as she herself wishes, to have shewn the Frankness of her Disposition, and to have openly avowed her Love. ButLovelace, by his own intriguing Spirit, made her Reserves, and then complained of them; and as she was engaged with such a Man, I think the Catastrophe's being what is calledUnhappy, is but the natural Consequence of such an Engagement; tho', I confess, I was not displeased that the Report of this Catastrophe met with so many Objections, as it proved what an Impression the Author's favourite Character had made on those Minds which could not bear she should fall a Sacrifice to the Barbarity of her Persecutors. And I hope that now all the Readers ofClarissaare convinced how rightly the Author has judged in this Point. If the Story was not to have ended tragically, the grand Moral would have been lost, as well as that grand Picture, if I may call it so, of human Life, of a Man's giving up every thing that is valuable, only because every thing that is valuable is in his Power.Lovelacethought of the Substance, whilst that was yet to be persued; but once within reach of it, his plotting Head and roving Imagination would let him see only the Shadow, and once enter'd into the Pursuit, his Pride, the predominant Passion of his Soul, engaged him to fly after a visionary Gratification which his own wild Fancy had painted, till, like one following anIgnis fatuusthrough By-Paths and crooked Roads, he lost himself in the Eagerness of his own Pursuit, and involved with him the innocentClarissa, who, persecuted, misunderstood, envied, and evil-treated as she had been, by those from whom she had most Reason to hope Protection, I think could not find a better Close to herMisfortunes than a triumphant Death. Triumphant it may very well be called, when her Soul, fortified by a truly Christian Philosophy, melted and softened in the School of Affliction, had conquered every earthly Desire, baffled every uneasy Passion, lost every disturbing Fear, while nothing remained in her tender Bosom but a lively Hope of future Happiness. When her very Griefs were in a manner forgot, the Impression of them as faint and languid as a feverish Dream to one restored to Health, all calm and serene her Mind, forgiving and praying for her worst Enemies, she retired from all her Afflictions, to meet the Reward of her Christian Piety.

The Death ofClarissais, I believe, the only Death of the Kind in any Story; and in her Character, the Author has thrown into Action (if I may be allowed the Expression) the true Christian Philosophy, shewn its Force to ennoble the human Mind, till it can look with Serenity on all human Misfortunes, and take from Death itself its gloomy Horrors. Never was any thing more judicious than the Author's bringingLovelaceas near asKnight's-Bridgeat the Time ofClarissa'sDeath; for by that means he has in a manner contrived to place in one View before our Eyes the guilty Ravager of unprotected Innocence, the boasting Vaunter of his own useless Parts, in all the Horrors of mad Despair, whilst the injured Innocent, in a pious, in a divine Frame of Mind is peaceably breathing her last. 'Such a Smile! such a charming Serenity (says Mr.Belford) overspreading her sweet Face at the Instant, as seemed to manifest her eternal Happiness already begun.'

Surely the Tears we shed forClarissain her last Hours, must be Tears of tender Joy! Whilst weseem to live, and daily converse with her through her last Stage, our Hearts are at once rejoiced and amended, are both soften'd and elevated, till our Sensations grow too strong for any Vent, but that of Tears; nor am I ashamed to confess, that Tears without Number have I shed, whilst Mr.Belfordby his Relation has kept me (as I may say) with fixed Attention in her Apartment, and made me perfectly present at her noble exalted Behaviour; nor can I hardly refrain from crying out, 'Farewell, my dearClarissa! may every Friend I love in this World imitate you in their Lives, and thus joyfully quit all the Cares and Troubles that disturb this mortal Being!'

MayClarissa'sMemory be as triumphant as was her Death! May all the World, likeLovelace, bear Testimony to her Virtues, and acknowledge her Triumph!

I am with many Thanks, Sir, for your obliging Letter,

Your most obedient, &c.

Harriote Gibson.

These Letters were shewn me by MissGibson, and thus, Sir, have I collected together all I have heard on your History ofClarissa; and if every thing that MissGibsonandBellariohas said, is fairly deducible from the Story, then I am certain, by the candid and good-natured Reader, this will be deemed a fair and impartial Examination, tho' I avow myself the sincere Admirer ofClarissa, and

Your very humble Servant,

FINIS.

FOOTNOTES[A]Pope's Homer.[B]Othello.[C]See Vol. VII. Letter 74. Page 292. inClarissa.[D]SeeShakespear's Henrythe Vth.

[A]Pope's Homer.

[B]Othello.

[C]See Vol. VII. Letter 74. Page 292. inClarissa.

[D]SeeShakespear's Henrythe Vth.

Transcriber's Note:The following errors have been corrected:Page6:"Cartrou" and "Rouille" changed to "Catrou" and "Rouillé" (by the FathersCatrouandRouillé,)Page12:"make" changed to "makes" (makes the Painting the stronger)Page17:"these angry Commands to to leave her," changed to "these angry Commands to leave her,"Page22:"the the Tragedy ofMacbeth" changed to "the Tragedy ofMacbeth"Page29:"acknowleges" changed to "acknowledges" (for ever acknowledges)Page43:"fxt" changed to "fixt" (greater Malady is fixt)

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