Chapter 2
"That _Clarissa_ positively did not intend to go off with _Lovelace_ when she met him, to me is very plain; nor could he have prevailed on her, had not the Terrors raised in her Mind, by apprehended Murder, almost robbed her of her Senses, and hurried her away, not knowing what she did. For the Truth of this, I appeal to that charming painted Scene, where the Reader's Mind shares _Clarissa's_ Terror, and is kept in one continued Tumult til.
[A]_The Steeds are smote, the rapid Chariot flies, The sudden Clouds of circuling Dust arise._
[A] _Pope's Homer._
"She was vexed to her soul afterwards to find she was tricked, as she calls it, out of herself, when _Lovelace_, instead of comforting and assuring her Mind, begins such a Train of shufling artful Tricks, as no one but _Lovelace_ could have thought on: And altho' she did not know all his Design, for if she had, she would certainly have left him, yet she sees enough of his _crooked ways_, to be convinced that he acted ungenerously by her, because she was in _his Power_. Does not _Lovelace_, in a Letter to _Belford_, writ in four Days after she was with him, say?
_And do I not see, that I shall want nothing but Patience, in order to have all Power with me? For what shall we say, if all these Complaints of a Character Wounded, these Declarations of increasing Regrets of meeting me, of Resentments never to be got over for my seducing her away, these angry Commands to leave her,--what shall we say, if all were to mean nothing but Matrimony?--And what if my forbearing to enter upon that Subject comes out to be the true Cause of her Petulance and Uneasiness._
"And then he gives such an Account of his asking her Consent to marry him, and at the same Time artfully confusing her, so as to prevent her Consent, as perfectly paints his cunning vile Heart. How is her Behaviour altered to him from the Time she can write Miss _Howe_ word that her Prospects are mended, till his returning Shufling convinces her there is no Confidence to be placed in him! But if, Sir, you cannot think _Lovelace's_ Usage of _Clarissa_ a full Justification of her in this Point, I think the Author has a just Right to be heard out before his Heroine is condemned in so heavy a Charge, as that of being void of all Affection. You know enough of my Sentiments, Sir, to be convinced that I do think this the heaviest Charge a Woman can be accused of; for Love is the only Passion I should wish to be harboured in the gentle Bosom of a good Woman. Ambition, with all the Train of turbulent Passions the World is infested with, I would leave to Men: And could I make my whole Sex of my Opinion, they would be resigned without the least Grudge or Envy; for Peace and Harmony dwell not with them, but on the contrary, Discord, Perturbation and Misery are their constant Companions. But tho' I speak thus with the utmost Sincerity of Love; yet I cannot think a Woman greatly the Object of Esteem who, like _Serina_ in the _Orphan_, having such a Father as _Acasto_, and such Brothers, affectionate to her, however blameable in other Respects; while she saw her whole Family distressed and confused, and _Monimia_, the gentle Companion of her Infancy, involved in that Confusion, her Lover too behaving like a Mad-man, yet still, could cry out,
Chamont's _the dearest thing I have on Earth; Give me_ Chamont, _and let the World forsake me._
"_Clarissa_ would have acted a different Part, I do confess; and yet, if I can guess any Thing of the Author's Intention by what is already published, I fancy, when we have read the Conclusion of this Story, we shall be convinced that Love was the strongest Characteristic of _Clarissa's_ Mind."
_Bellario_ answered, with that Candor, which is known to be one of the most distinguishing Marks of his Character by all who have the Pleasure of his Acquaintance, 'That if it proved so, he should have the greatest Esteem and highest Veneration for _Clarissa_, and would suspend his Judgment till he saw the remaining Part of the Story.'
But all the Company were not so candid, for Mr. _Dellincourt_ said, 'He was sure _Clarissa_ could not in the remaining Part of the Story convince him, that her Characteristic was Love; for nothing less than the lovely _Emma's_ Passion for _Henry_ would be any Satisfaction to him, if he was a Lover.'--Miss _Gibson_ said. 'She had often been sorry that the Poem of _Henry_ and _Emma_ had not been long ago buried in Oblivion; for (continued she) it is one of those Things which, by the Dress and Ornaments of fine Language and smooth Poetry, has imposed on Mankind so strong a Fallacy, as to make a Character in itself most despicable, nay I may say most blameable, generally thought worthy Admiration and Praise: For strip it of the dazzling Beauties of Poetry, and thus fairly may the Story be told.
An old _English_ Baron retired in his Decline of Life to his Country-seat, where one only Daughter (left him by a Wife he fondly loved) was the Care, the Joy, the Comfort of his declining Years: No sooner had the State of blooming Youth taken place of that of prattling Infancy, than she became the Object of publick Admiration, and Lovers of all Degrees with Emulation strove to gain the fair _Emma's_ Favour; but as yet her Heart was free, and her Father's paternal tender Indulgence never once endeavoured to force her Choice. At last the happy _Henry_ in various Disguises found the means to obtain her Favour, and she becomes passionately in Love with him: But not content with this, he resolves on a Trial of her Constancy, and therefore tells her, that he is a Murderer, must fly from Justice, and herd amongst the lowest and basest of Mankind; that he despised her, and the fond Heart she had given him; a younger and fairer Nymph now engaging his Pursuit, and that if she would follow him, she also must herd with Outlaws his Companions, who like himself were fled from Justice; where Impiety, Blasphemy and Obscenity would be all the Language she could hear.
_Emma_ on this Trial, ignorant who _Henry_ was, or what Brothel had last given him up, without one Enquiry whether the Murder he confessed was not of the blackest Die, remorseless for all the Agonies with which she must tear her Father's tender Bosom, resolves at all Events, as _Henry_ himself says,
_Name, Habit, Parents, Woman, left behind_.
to follow him through the World; not admitted to share his Fate, but to be scorned and insulted by him. Thus _victoriously_ she stood her Trial. _Henry_ turns out a great Man; consequently his Wife is greatly admired; Success crowns all, and both Grandeur and Love join to reward her supposed heroic Virtue.
But had the Poet thought proper, that _Henry_ should have turned out the Murderer, the Vagabond, the insolent and ungrateful Scorner of her Love he represented himself to be; had her Father's Sorrow for her Fate shortned his miserable Days; had she been abandoned by the Wretch she had so much Reason to expect the worst of Treatment from, and, between Rage, Despair, and a thousand conflicting Passions, been led by a natural Gradation from one Vice to another, till she had been lost in the most abandoned Profligacy; instead of being proposed for an Example, her Name would have been only mentioned to deter others from the like rash Steps. That this was the natural Consequence of her Actions is very apparent: Nor do I think from her Behaviour, that _Henry_ had the least Reason to be convinced that she would not leave him for the first Man who would try to seduce her, provided the Colour of his Complexion suited her Fancy.
All the Company were very inclineable to yield up _Emma's_ Cause, if _Henry had_ indeed been a Villain and a Murderer; only great Part of them were very apt to forget one Circumstance, namely, that it was impossible for her to know, but that he was the Wretch he represented himself to be; and Miss _Gibson_ seemed to be much more inclined to compassionate her, if extreme Misery had been her Fate, than was the Gentleman who first mentioned her as an Object of Admiration, only because the Author of the Poem thought fit to reward her. Miss _Gibson_ then addressing herself to _Bellario_, said, 'Sir, you are a Father,--an indulgent Father,--would you have your Daughter act in such a Manner?--_Bellario_ honestly owned he would not. 'Why then, Sir, (replyed she) please to consider a Moment, and you will see the Injustice of wishing another Man's Daughter should act so.' _Bellario_ ingenuously confessed, that when he read the Poem of _Henry_ and _Emma_, the Picture of his Mistress, and not that of his Daughter, was before his Eyes, and he would have his Mistress _of all Mankind love but him alone_.----'I wonder not at that, Sir, (said Miss _Gibson_) but then you would not be the Man _Henry_ represented himself to be. Had _Henry_ had any Misfortunes by which his Heart had not been stained.
[B]_Had it pleased Heav'n To try_ him _with Affliction, had he rain'd_ _All kind of Sores and Shames on_ his _bare Head, Steep'd_ him _in Poverty to the very Lips, Given to Captivity_ him _and_ his _utmost Hopes,_
[B] OTHELLO.
no one would more have applauded _Emma's_ Resolution, _of loving of all Mankind but him alone_, than I should have done: But yet when I see a Woman seriously endeavour to conquer a Passion for a Man who proves himself unworthy her Love, it will always be to me a strong Proof of her steady Constancy to a Man she has Reason to esteem. I would have had _Emma_ stood _Henry's_ shocking Tryal as _Macduff_ in the Tragedy of _Macbeth_ does that of _Malcolm_, and when he had proved himself unworthy her least Affection; I think, in the Words of _Macduff_ she might have said,
_----Fare thee well, These Evils thou repeat'st upon thyself, Have banish'd me from_ JOY.----_Oh! my Breast, Thy Hope ends here._
On such a Behaviour, I think the Reward she met with should have been founded, and such I believe would have been the Behaviour of _Clarissa_ in the like Circumstances.
'The Love that is not judicious, must be as uncertain as its capricious Foundation: But 'tis one of the distinguishing Marks of _Clarissa's_ Character, to watch her own Mind, that Prejudice may not get Possession of it, nor her Imagination run away with her Judgment. With what a noble Contempt does she treat the extravagant Offers _Solmes_ makes her, at the Expence of Justice, and cruelly leaving his Family to starve? But how very few People, like _Clarissa_, can poise the Scales with an even Hand, where one Grain of Self is placed in either Scale?'
The Gentleman, who had at first started the Objection to _Clarissa_ of her being incapable of any strong Affection, now said, 'that he could not see any Proof of her Impartiality, in that she could view the Actions of _Solmes_ in the proper Light: He did not know whether she would have argued in the same manner With regard to _Lovelace_'. Miss _Gibson_ said, 'Do you speak this, Sir, as a Proof of the Justice of your first Objection to _Clarissa_, that her Heart was as impenetrable as Marble; is it reasonable she should be condemned both ways?' The Gentleman look'd very grave for a Moment, and then said, he was sure she had no Affections in her, notwithstand what he had now said.
Mr. _Johnson_ on this, told the following Story.
"I remember (said he) I went some time ago with Mr. _Tonson_ to a celebrated Painter's, to see a Picture he had drawn of a Gentleman we were both intimately acquainted with; the Resemblance was very strong; we were much pleased with the Picture, even to the very Drapery; the Coat was a fine Crimson Cloth, but Mr. _Tonson_, at first View, took it for Velvet; he was soon convinced of his Mistake, but yet could never since mention the Picture, without talking of the Velvet Coat; and when I have bid him remember it was Cloth, he has always acknowledged it, and said, it's very true Sir; And yet such a strong Impression had his first Idea of it made in his Mind, that in two Minutes he could talk again of the Velvet Coat, with as much Ease as if he had been perfectly ignorant of his Mistake."
A strong Objection was raised to Mr. _Lovelace's_ being so long without any Attempt on the Lady's Honour, when she was under the same Roof with him, and so much in his Power. Mr. _Johnson_ said he thought Mr. _Belford_ had given a good Reason for this Delay in a Letter to _Lovelace_, where he says,
_Thou too a Man born for Intrigue, full of Invention, intrepid, remorseless, able patiently to watch for the Opportunity, not flurried, as most Men, by Gusts of violent Passion, which often nip a Project in the Bud, and make the Snail, which was just putting out its Horns to meet the Inviter, withdraw into its Shell._
So that it seems to be a Maxim, amongst _Lovelace_ and his Club of Rakes, not to destroy their own Schemes by a too precipitate Pursuit; and _Lovelace_ gives yet a stronger Reason for it in the following Words.
_O Virtue, Virtue_, says he, _what is there in thee, that can thus affect the Heart of such a Man as me against my Will!--Whence these involuntary Tremors, and fear of giving mortal Offence! What art thou that, acting in the Breast of a feeble Woman, canst strike so much awe into a Spirit so intrepid which never before, no, not in my first Attempt, young as I then was, and frighted at my own Boldness (till I found myself_ forgiven,) _had such an Effect on me._
But Quotations from _Lovelace's_ Words to this Purpose, and that he was resolved to be slow in order to be sure, would be endless.
This, I think, was the last Objection raised; only _Bellario_ said, that the Report that the Catastrophy was to be unhappy had made a deep Impression on him; for that he could not avoid thinking that, if it was true, it must be a great Error, and destroy all the Pleasure a good-natur'd Reader might already have received: However, he said, he would keep his Word in not absolutely giving his Judgment till he saw the Conclusion.
And thus ended the second Scene of Criticism on _Clarissa_; only, as we went down Stairs, a Lady, who had not spoke one Word the whole Evening, mutter'd out a strong Dislike, that the agreeable Mr. _Lovelace_ should not become a Husband.
And now, in the Month of _December_, appears the long expected, much wished for Conclusion of _Clarissa's_ Story.
The Company we have already mentioned being again assembled, the Lady who had before grieved that the agreeable Mr. _Lovelace_ should not become a Husband, now lamented that Miss _Howe_ should be married to so insipid a Man (that was the Epithet she chose for him) as Mr. _Hickman_. This passed some little time without any Answer. Miss _Gibson_ was silent; and I saw by her Looks that she thought there was some Weight in her Objection. At last an old Lady, who had three Daughters marriagable, said, she wondered to hear Mr. _Hickman_ called insipid; for she thought there could be no Reason for giving him that Appellation, unless young Women would confess what she should be very sorry to hear them confess, namely, that, in their Opinion, Sobriety intitles a Man to the Character of Insipidity. Pray remember, continued the Lady, that there is no Ridicule cast upon Mr. _Hickman_ throughout the whole Story, but by _Lovelace_ and Miss _Howe_. The former lov'd Ridicule so well, that he could make Objects of it, by the Help of his gay Imagination, even where he found none: Besides, he hated any Man should have a fine Woman but himself; for, in his Opinion, he alone deserved them. And I think Miss _Howe_ is very censurable for the Liberties she takes with a worthy Man, whom also it is plain she intends to make her Husband.
Miss _Gibson_ agreed in censuring Miss _Howe_ for the Liberties she takes with him; but at the same time said, she thought even his bearing that Usage did lower his Character. Now you see, replied the Lady, how you are taken in; that you can condemn Miss _Howe_ for her Contempt of Mr. _Hickman_, and yet at the same time let the lively Strokes that fall from her Pen have their full force against the abused worthy Man. Yet Miss _Howe_ herself owns, as early as the second Volume, that Mr. _Hickman_ is humane, benevolent, generous,--No Fox-hunter--No Gamester--That he is sober, modest, and virtuous; and has Qualities that Mothers would be fond of in a Husband for their Daughters; and for which, perhaps, their Daughters would be the happier, could they judge as well for themselves as Experience may teach them to judge for their future Daughters. In other Places he is represented as charitable, considerate to Inferiors, so obliging and respectful to his Mother-in-law, that she leaves him at her Death, in Acknowledgment of it, all that was in her Power: And Miss _Howe_ owns he never disobliged her by Word or Look. What then is the Objection to Mr. _Hickman_? Why truly, he has not _Lovelace's_ fine Person!--_Lovelace's_ fine Address!--_Lovelace's_ impetuous Spirit; and yet he has shewn even _Lovelace_, that he wants not Courage. He is plain in his Dress!--His Gait shews him not to be so debonnaire in dancing a Minuit as _Lovelace_.--But, indeed, I am afraid whoever prefers a _Lovelace_ to a _Hickman_, will wish all her life-time she could have sooner found out, that tho' _Lovelace_ was the best Partner at a Ball; yet, when a Companion for Life was to be chose, that Mr. _Hickman's_ Goodness of Heart rendered him in all respects more essential to Happiness; much more eligible than all the gay, fluttering, and parading Spirit of a _Lovelace_ could possibly have done. And your Favourite _Clarissa_, Miss _Gibson_, says in a Letter to Miss _Howe_; 'Will you never, my Dear, give the Weight which you, and all our Sex ought to give to the Qualities of Sobriety and Regularity of Life and Manners in that Sex?--Must bold Creatures and forward Spirits for ever, and by the wisest and best of us, as well as by the indiscretest, be the most kindly used?--be best thought of'?
Again, in her posthumous Letter--'Your Choice is fallen upon a sincere, an honest, a virtuous, and what is more than all, a _pious Man_.--A Man who altho' he admires your Person, is still more in love with the Graces of your Mind; and as those Graces are improvable with every added Year of Life, which will impair the transitory ones of Person, what a firm Basis has Mr. _Hickman_ chosen to build his Love upon.'
The same Man cannot be every thing: A _Hickman_ in Heart, to a _Lovelace_ in Vivacity and Address, perhaps, is almost impossible to be met with; Time, Opportunities, and Inclinations are wanting.
Nay, Madam, says Miss _Gibson_, I do not dispute Mr. _Hickman's_ being preferable for a Husband to Mr. _Lovelace_; the Heart is certainly the first thing to be considered in a Man to whose Government a Woman resigns herself; but I should not chuse either _Lovelace_ or _Hickman_. I must confess I should desire Humour and Spirit in a Man. A married Life, tho' it cannot be said to be miserable with an honest Husband; yet it must be very dull, when a Man has not the Power of diversifying his Ideas enough to display trifling Incidents in various Lights; and 'tis impossible where this is wanting, but that a Man and his Wife must often depend on other Company to keep them from sinking into Insipidity. And for my part, I cannot paint to myself any thing more disagreeable, than to sit with a Husband and wish some-body would come in and relieve us from one another's Dulness. Trifles, Madam, become strong Entertainments to sprightly Minds!--
Ah! Miss _Gibson_, replied the Lady, in every Word you speak, you prove how necessary the Author's Moral is to be strongly inculcated; when even _your_ serious and thoughtful Turn of Mind will not suffer you to see through the Glare of what you call Humour and Spirit with that Clearness which would enable you to distinguish how very seldom that Humour and Spirit is bestowed on a Wife. Mr. _Hickman's_ whole Mind being at Home, would enliven him into a chearful Companion with his Wife; whilst a _Lovelace's_ Mind, engaged on foreign Objects, would often make him fall into Peevishness and Ill-humour, instead of this so much dreaded _Insipidity_.
Indeed, Madam, said Miss _Gibson_, I don't plead for Mr. _Lovelace_; for I detest him of all the Men I ever read of.
That is true, replied the Lady; but that is because you have _read_ of him, and know the Villanies he was capable of. But yet, I think, you have plainly proved, if a _Lovelace_ and a _Hickman_ contended for your Favour, which would have the best Chance of succeeding.
Miss _Gibson_ blushed, and was silent; when a sprightly Girl, of about Sixteen, said, She loved Mr. _Hickman_ very much; he was a good, and a gentle-hearted Man--But indeed she should not like him for her Husband.
The Gentlemen, during this Debate, had all sat silent; but they often smiled to see how few Advocates Mr. _Hickman_ was likely to have amongst the Ladies.
At last _Bellario_ said, If I had not thought so before, I should now be convinced by this Conversation, how judicious the Author of _Clarissa_ was in setting forth so very strongly as he does, the Necessity of Sobriety and Goodness in a Husband, in order to render a married State happy. For you have shown clearly, Ladies, how difficult it is for a Man to be esteemed by you who has those Qualities, since I can see no one Objection to Mr. _Hickman_, but that he has not that Gaiety of Disposition which from a vast Flow of animal Spirits, without Restraint or Curb from either Principles of Religion or Good-nature, shines forth in _Lovelace's_ wild Fancies. And this Man you find such a Reluctance to speak well of; tho' a reforming _Belford_ esteems; Colonel _Morden_ highly values him; and says, he is respected by all the World!--And a _Clarissa_ for ever acknowledges his Merit.--And, in one of the last Actions of her Life, praises him as he deserves to be praised. And earnestly recommends it to her best and dear Friend, to give both her Hand and Heart to so worthy a Man. The steady Principles of Mr. _Hickman_ was a firm Basis to depend on, for Protection and good Usage.
Miss _Gibson_ was so much pleased with seeing _Bellario_ enter so heartily into the Design of the Author of _Clarissa_, that she dropp'd the Argument, (tho' she did not seem quite convinc'd that Mr. _Hickman_ could be an agreeable Husband) and with some Earnestness desired _Bellario_ to tell her, whether he was not now convinced that _Clarissa_ was capable of the strongest Affection, could she but have found the least Foundation to have built that Affection on: Yes, replied _Bellario_, I am convinced of it, and am surprised that I did not before see how much _Lovelace's_ base unmanly Behaviour justifies her in this Point; he himself, indeed, in the Letter he writes _Belford_ after he left _England_, lays the whole Scene before us; to his own Condemnation, and _Clarissa's_ eternal Honour: He owns her meek and gentle Spirit; confesses he repeatedly, from the first, poured cold Water on her rising Flame, by meanly and ingratefully turning upon her the Injunctions which Virgin Delicacy, and filial Duty induced her to lay him under before he got her into his Power; he quotes her own Words: _That she could not be guilty of Affectation or Tyranny to the Man she intended to marry_; that from the Time he had got her from her Father's House, _he had a plain Path before him_; that _he had held her Soul in suspense an Hundred times_; that _she would have had no Reserves, had he not given her Cause of Doubt_; that she owned to _Belford_, that _once she could have loved him; and could she have made him Good would have made him Happy_.