Clarissa, Volume 8 | Page 6

him know. So indeed had
we all; for he prognosticated what would happen, as to your applying to
us, when you knew not how to help it.
* See Vol. I. Letter XXXII.
Brother John has hurt your niceness, it seems, by asking you a plain
question, which your mother's heart is too full of grief to let her ask;
and modesty will not let your sister ask; though but the consequence of
your actions--and yet it must be answered, before you'll obtain from
your father and mother, and us, the notice you hope for, I can tell you
that.
You lived several guilty weeks with one of the vilest fellows that ever
drew breath, at bed, as well as at board, no doubt, (for is not his
character known?) and pray don't be ashamed to be asked after what
may naturally come of such free living. This modesty indeed would
have become you for eighteen years of your life--you'll be pleased to
mark that--but makes no good figure compared with your behaviour
since the beginning of April last. So pray don't take it up, and wipe
your mouth upon it, as if nothing had happened.
But, may be, I likewise am to shocking to your niceness!--O girl, girl!
your modesty had better been shown at the right time and place--Every
body but you believed what the rake was: but you would believe
nothing bad of him--What think you now?
Your folly has ruined all our peace. And who knows where it may yet
end? --Your poor father but yesterday showed me this text: With bitter
grief he showed it me, poor man! and do you lay it to your heart:
'A father waketh for his daughter, when no man knoweth; and the care
for her taketh away his sleep--When she is young, lest she pass away
the flower of her age--[and you know what proposals were made to you
at different times.] And, being married, lest she should be hated. In her

virginity, lest she should be defiled, and gotten with child in her father's
house--[and I don't make the words, mind that.] And, having an
husband, lest she should misbehave herself.' And what follows? 'Keep a
sure watch over a shameless daughter--[yet no watch could hold you!]
lest she make thee a laughing stock to thine enemies--[as you have
made us all to this cursed Lovelace,] and a bye-word in the city, and a
reproach among the people, and make thee ashamed before the
multitude.' Ecclus. xlii. 9, 10, &c.
Now will you wish you had not written pertly. Your sister's severities!
--Never, girl, say that is severe that is deserved. You know the meaning
of words. No body better. Would to the Lord you had acted up but to
one half of what you know! then had we not been disappointed and
grieved, as we all have been: and nobody more than him who was
Your loving uncle, ANTONY HARLOWE.
This will be with you to-morrow. Perhaps you may be suffered to have
some part of your estate, after you have smarted a little more. Your
pertly-answered uncle John, who is your trustee, will not have you be
destitute. But we hope all is not true that we hear of you. --Only take
care, I advise you, that, bad as you have acted, you act not still worse, if
it be possible to act worse. Improve upon the hint.

LETTER IV
MISS CL. HARLOWE, TO ANTONY HARLOWE, ESQ. SUNDAY,
AUG. 13.
HONOURED SIR,
I am very sorry for my pert letter to my uncle Harlowe. Yet I did not
intend it to be pert. People new to misfortune may be too easily moved
to impatience.
The fall of a regular person, no doubt, is dreadful and inexcusable. is
like the sin of apostacy. Would to Heaven, however, that I had had the

circumstances of mine inquired into!
If, Sir, I make myself worse than I am in my health, and better than I
am in my penitence, it is fit I should be punished for my double
dissimulation: and you have the pleasure of being one of my punishers.
My sincerity in both respects will, however, be best justified by the
event. To that I refer.--May Heaven give you always as much comfort
in reflecting upon the reprobation I have met with, as you seem to have
pleasure in mortifying a young creature, extremely mortified; and that
from a right sense, as she presumes to hope, of her own fault!
What you heard of me I cannot tell. When the nearest and dearest
relations give up an unhappy wretch, it is not to be wondered at that
those who are not related to her are ready to take up and propagate
slanders against her. Yet I think I