MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE JAN. 20
I have been hindered from prosecuting my intention. Neither nights
nor mornings have been my own. My mother has been very ill; and would
have no other nurse but me. I have not stirred from her bedside (for
she kept her bed); and two nights I had the honour of sharing it with
her.
Her disorder was a very violet colic. The contentions of these
fierce, these masculine spirits, and the apprehension of mischiefs
that may arise from the increasing animosity which all here have
against Mr. Lovelace, and his too well known resenting and intrepid
character, she cannot bear. Then the foundations laid, as she dreads,
for jealousy and heart-burnings in her own family, late so happy and
so united, afflict exceedingly a gentle and sensible mind, which has
from the beginning, on all occasions, sacrificed its own inward
satisfaction to outward peace. My brother and sister, who used very
often to jar, are now so entirely one, and are so much together,
(caballing was the word that dropt from my mother's lips, as if at
unawares,) that she is very fearful of the consequences that may
follow;--to my prejudice, perhaps, is her kind concern; since she sees
that they behave to me every hour with more and more shyness and
reserve: yet, would she but exert that authority which the superiority
of her fine talents gives her, all these family feuds might perhaps be
extinguished in their but yet beginnings; especially as she may be
assured that all fitting concessions shall be made by me, not only as
my brother and sister are my elders, but for the sake of so excellent
and so indulgent a mother.
For, if I may say to you, my dear, what I would not to any other
person living, it is my opinion, that had she been of a temper that
would have borne less, she would have had ten times less to bear, than
she has had. No commendation, you'll say, of the generosity of those
spirits which can turn to its own disquiet so much condescending
goodness.
Upon my word I am sometimes tempted to think that we may make the
world allow for and respect us as we please, if we can but be sturdy
in our wills, and set out accordingly. It is but being the less
beloved for it, that's all: and if we have power to oblige those we
have to do with, it will not appear to us that we are. Our flatterers
will tell us any thing sooner than our faults, or what they know we do
not like to hear.
Were there not truth in this observation, is it possible that my
brother and sister could make their very failings, their vehemences,
of such importance to all the family? 'How will my son, how will my
nephew, take this or that measure? What will he say to it? Let us
consult him about it;' are references always previous to every
resolution taken by his superiors, whose will ought to be his. Well
may he expect to be treated with this deference by every other person,
when my father himself, generally so absolute, constantly pays it to
him; and the more since his godmother's bounty has given independence
to a spirit that was before under too little restraint.--But whither
may these reflections lead me!--I know you do not love any of us but
my mother and me; and, being above all disguises, make me sensible
that you do not oftener than I wish.--Ought I then to add force to
your dislikes of those whom I wish you to like?--of my father
especially; for he, alas! has some excuse for his impatience of
contradiction. He is not naturally an ill-tempered man; and in his
person and air, and in his conversation too, when not under the
torture of a gouty paroxysm, every body distinguishes the gentleman
born and educated.
Our sex perhaps must expect to bear a little--uncourtliness shall I
call it?--from the husband whom as the lover they let know the
preference their hearts gave him to all other men.--Say what they will
of generosity being a manly virtue; but upon my word, my dear, I have
ever yet observed, that it is not to be met with in that sex one time
in ten that it is to be found in ours.--But my father was soured by
the cruel distemper I have named; which seized him all at once in the
very prime of life, in so violent a manner as to take from the most
active of minds, as his was, all power of activity, and that in all
appearance for life.--It imprisoned, as I may say, his lively spirits
in himself, and turned the edge of them against his own peace; his
extraordinary prosperity adding to his impatiency. Those, I believe,
who want the fewest earthly blessings, most regret that they want any.
But my brother! What excuse can be made for his haughty and morose
temper? He is really, my dear, I am sorry to have occasion to say it,
an ill-temper'd young man; and treats my mother sometimes--Indeed he
is not dutiful.--But, possessing every thing, he has the vice of age,
mingled with the ambition of youth, and enjoys nothing--but his own
haughtiness and ill-temper, I was going to say.--Yet again am I adding
force to your dislikes of some of us.--Once, my dear, it was perhaps
in your power to have moulded him as you pleased.--Could you have been
my sister!--Then had I friend in a sister.--But no wonder that he does
not love you now; who could nip in the bud, and that with a disdain,
let me say, too much of kin to his haughtiness, a passion that would
not have wanted a fervour worthy of the object; and which possibly
would have made him worthy.
But no more of this. I will prosecute my former intention in my next;
which I will sit down to as soon as breakfast is over; dispatching
this by the messenger whom you have so kindly sent to inquire after us
on my silence. Mean time, I am,
Your most affectionate and obliged friend and servant, CL. HARLOWE.
