Clarissa Harlowe by Samuel Richardson (e reader manga .txt) ๐
Description
Clarissa Harlowe, or The History of a Young Lady is one of the longest novels in the English language. Written by Samuel Richardson over a period of several years and published in 1748, it is composed entirely of letters. Though this may seem daunting, the novel is highly regarded and is considered by many critics as one of the greatest works of English literature, appearing in several lists of the best British novels ever written.
The novel tells the story of young Clarissa, eighteen years of age at the start of the novel. She is generally regarded by her family, neighbors, and friends as the most virtuous and kind young woman they know. But she is drawn into correspondence with Richard Lovelace, a well-born, rich young man regarded as something of a rake, when she attempts to reconcile a dispute between Lovelace and her rash brother. Lovelace, imagining this indicates her love for him, carries out a series of strategems which result in him essentially abducting her from her family, from whom Clarissa then becomes estranged.
Much of the correspondence consists of the letters between Clarissa and her close friend Anna Howe, and between Lovelace and his friend Jack Belford, to whom he confesses all of his strategems and โinventionsโ in his assault on Clarissaโs honor.
The novel is thus a fascinating study of human nature. Much of Lovelaceโs actions and attitudes towards women are regrettably only too familiar to modern readers. And while Clarissa herself may be a little too good to be true, nevertheless she is shown as having some flaws which lead to a tragic outcome.
This Standard Ebooks edition is based on the 9-volume Chapman and Hall edition of 1902.
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- Author: Samuel Richardson
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No intrusion, Sir, I dare say: the lady is good-humoured. She will be so kind as to step down into the parlour, I dare say. As she stays so little a while, I am sure she will not wish to stand in my way.
No, Madam, thatโs true, if she be good-humoured, as you sayโ โHas she been with you long, Madam?
She came but yesterday, Sirโ โ
I believe I just now saw the glimpse of her. She seems to be an elderly lady.
No, Sir! youโre mistaken. Sheโs a young lady; and one of the handsomest I ever saw.
Cot so, I beg her pardon! Not but that I should have liked her the better, were she to stay longer, if she had been elderly. I have a strange taste, Madam, youโll say; but I really, for my wifeโs sake, love every elderly woman. Indeed I ever thought age was to be reverenced, which made me (taking the fortune into the scale too, that I own) make my addresses to my present dear.
Very good of you, Sir, to respect age: we all hope to live to be old.
Right, Madam.โ โBut you say the lady is beautiful. Now you must know, that though I choose to converse with the elderly, yet I love to see a beautiful young woman, just as I love to see fine flowers in a garden. Thereโs no casting an eye upon her, is there, without her notice? For in this dress, and thus muffled up about my jaws, I should not care to be seen any more than she, let her love privacy as much as she will.
I will go and ask if I may show a gentleman the apartment, Sir; and, as you are a married gentleman, and not over young, sheโll perhaps make the less scruple.
Then, like me, she loves elderly folks best perhaps. But it may be she has suffered by young ones.
I fancy she has, Sir, or is afraid she shall. She desired to be very private; and if by description inquired after, to be denied.
Thou art a true woman, goody Moore, thought I.
Good lackโ โgood lack!โ โWhat may be her story then, I pray?
She is pretty reserved in her story: but, to tell you my thoughts, I believe love is in the case: she is always in tears, and does not much care for company.
Nay, Madam, it becomes not me to dive into ladiesโ secrets; I want not to pry into other peopleโs affairs. But, pray, how does she employ herself?โ โYet she came but yesterday; so you canโt tell.
Writing continually, Sir.
These women, Jack, when you ask them questions by way of information, donโt care to be ignorant of anything.
Nay, excuse me, Madam, I am very far from being an inquisitive man. But if her case be difficult, and not merely love, as she is a friend of yours, I would give her my advice.
Then you are a lawyer, Sirโ โ
Why, indeed, Madam, I was some time at the bar; but I have long left practice; yet am much consulted by my friends in difficult points. In a pauper case I frequently give money; but never take any from the richest.
You are a very good gentleman, then, Sir.
Ay, Madam, we cannot live always here; and we ought to do what good we canโ โbut I hate to appear officious. If the lady stay any time, and think fit, upon better acquaintance, to let me into her case, it may be a happy day for her, if I find it a just one; for, you must know, that when I was at the bar, I never was such a sad fellow as to undertake, for the sake of a paltry fee, to make white black, and black white: For what would that have been, but to endeavour to establish iniquity by quirks, while I robbed the innocent?
You are an excellent gentleman, Sir: I wish (and then she sighed) I had had the happiness to know there was such a lawyer in the world; and to have been acquainted with him.
Come, come, Mrs. Moore, I think your name is, it may not be too lateโ โwhen you and I are better acquainted, I may help you perhaps.โ โBut mention nothing of this to the lady: for, as I said, I hate to appear officious.
This prohibition, I knew, if goody Moore answered the specimen she had given of her womanhood, would make her take the first opportunity to tell, were it to be necessary to my purpose that she should.
I appeared, upon the whole, so indifferent about seeing the room, or the lady, that the good woman was the more eager I should see both. And the rather, as I, to stimulate her, declared, that there was more required in my eye to merit the character of a handsome woman, than most people thought necessary; and that I had never seen six truly lovely women in my life.
To be brief, she went in; and after a little while came out again. The lady, Sir, is retired to her closet. So you may go in and look at the room.
Then how my heart began again to play its pugโs tricks!
I hobbled in, and stumped about, and liked it very much; and was sure my wife would. I begged excuse for sitting down, and asked, who was the minister of the place? If he were a good preacher? Who preached at the Chapel? And if he were a good preacher, and a good liver too, Madamโ โI must inquire after that: for I love, but I must needs say, that the clergy should practise what they preach.
Very right, Sir; but that is not so often the case as were to be wished.
Moreโs the pity, Madam. But I have a great veneration for the clergy in general. It is more a satire upon human nature than upon the cloth, if we suppose those who have the best opportunities to do good, less perfect than other
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