Clarissa Harlowe by Samuel Richardson (e reader manga .txt) 📕

O may you not suffer from a base world for your gentleness; while my temper, by its warmth, keeping all imposition at a distance, though less amiable in general, affords me not reason, as I have mentioned heretofore, to wish to make an exchange with you!

I should indeed be inexcusable to open my lips by way of contradiction to my mother, had I such a fine spirit as yours to deal with. Truth is truth, my dear! Why should narrowness run away with the praises due to a noble expansion of heart? If everybody would speak out, as I do, (that is to say, give praise where only praise is due; dispraise where due likewise), shame, if not principle, would mend the world⁠—nay, shame would introduce principle in a generation or two. Very true, my dear. Do you apply. I dare not.⁠—For I fear you, almost as much as I love you.

I will give you an instance, nevertheless, which will anew demonstrate, that none but very generous and noble-minded people ought to be implicitly obeyed. You know what I said above, that truth is truth.

Inconveniencies will sometimes arise from having to do with persons of modest and scrupulousness. Mr. Hickman, you say, is a modest man. He put your corrective packet into my hand with a very fine bow, and a self-satisfied air (we’ll consider what you say of this honest man by-and-by, my dear): his strut was no gone off, when in came my mother, as I was reading it.

When some folks find their anger has made them considerable, they will be always angry, or seeking occasions for anger.

Why, now, Mr. Hickman⁠—why, now, Nancy, (as I was huddling in the packet between my gown and my stays, at her entrance). You have a letter brought you this instant.⁠—While the modest man, with his pausing brayings, Mad-da⁠—Mad-dam, looked as if he knew not whether to fight it out, or to stand his ground, and see fair play.

It would have been poor to tell a lie for it. She flung away. I went out at the opposite door, to read the contents; leaving Mr. Hickman to exercise his white teeth upon his thumbnails.

When I had read your letters, I went to find out my mother. I told her the generous contents, and that you desired that the prohibition might be adhered to. I proposed your condition, as for myself; and was rejected, as above.

She supposed, she was finely painted between two “young creatures, who had more wit than prudence:” and instead of being prevailed upon by the generosity of your sentiments, made use of your opinion only to confirm her own, and renewed her prohibitions, charging me to return no other answer, but that she did renew them: adding, that they should stand, till your relations were reconciled to you; hinting as if she had engaged for as much: and expected my compliance.

I thought of your reprehensions, and was meek, though not pleased. And let me tell you, my dear, that as long as I can satisfy my own mind, that good is intended, and that it is hardly possible that evil should ensue from our correspondence⁠—as long as I know that this prohibition proceeds originally from the same spiteful minds which have been the occasion of all these mischiefs⁠—as long as I know that it is not your fault if your relations are not reconciled to you, and that upon conditions which no reasonable people would refuse⁠—you must give me leave, with all deference to your judgment, and to your excellent lessons, (which would reach almost every case of this kind but the present), to insist upon your writing to me, and that minutely, as if this prohibition had not been laid.

It is not from humour, from perverseness, that I insist upon this. I cannot express how much my heart is in your concerns. And you must, in short, allow me to think, that if I can do you service by writing, I shall be better justified in continuing to write, than my mother is in her prohibition.

But yet, to satisfy you all I can, I will as seldom return answers, while the interdict lasts, as may be consistent with my notions of friendship, and with the service I owe you, and can do you.

As to your expedient of writing by Hickman (and now, my dear, your modest man comes in: and as you love modesty in that sex, I will do my endeavour, by holding him at a proper distance, to keep him in your favour) I know what you mean by it, my sweet friend. It is to make that man significant with me. As to the correspondence, that shall go on, I do assure you, be as scrupulous as you please⁠—so that that will not suffer if I do not close with your proposal as to him.

I must tell you, that I think it will be honour enough for him to have his name made use of so frequently betwixt us. This, of itself, is placing a confidence in him, that will make him walk bolt upright, and display his white hand, and his fine diamond ring; and most mightily lay down his services, and his pride to oblige, and his diligence, and his fidelity, and his contrivances to keep our secret, and his excuses, and his evasions to my mother, when challenged by her; with fifty and’s beside: and will it not moreover give him pretence and excuse oftener than ever to pad-nag it hither to good Mrs. Howe’s fair daughter?

But to admit him into my company tête-à-tête, and into my closet, as often as I would wish to write to you, I only dictate to his pen⁠—my mother all the time supposing that I was going to be heartily in love with him⁠—to make him master of my sentiments, and of my heart, as I may say, when I write to you⁠—indeed, my dear, I won’t. Nor, were I married to the best he in