able motive-I should think myself the unworthiest of creatures, could I be brought to slight a dear friend, and such a meritorious one, in her distress. I would die first-and so I told mymother. And I have desired her not to watch me in my retired hours, nor to insist upon my lying with her constantly, which she now does more earnestly than ever. "Twere better, I told her, that the Harlowe-Betty were borrowed to be set over me.

Mr Hickman, who greatly honours you, has, unknown to me, interposed so warmly in your favour with my mother, that it makes for him no small merit with me.

I cannot, at present, write to every particular, unless I would be in set defiance. Teaze, teaze, teaze, for ever! The same thing, though answered fifty times over, in every hour to be repeated. Lord bless me ! what a life must my poor father-But let me remember to whom I am writing.

If this ever-active, ever-mischievous monkey of a man, this Lovelace, contrived as you suspect-But here comes my mother again-Ay, stay a little longer, my mamma, if you pleaseI can but be suspected! I can but be chidden for making you wait; and chidden I am sure to be, whether I do or not, in the way you, my good mamma, are Antony'd into.

Bless me! how impatient she is! How she thunders at the door! This moment, madam! How came I to double lock myself in! What have I done with the key! Deuce take the key! Dear madam! You flutter one so!

You may believe, my dear, that I took care of my papers before I opened the door. We have had a charming dialogue-She flung from me in a passion

So What's now to be done? Sent for down in a very peremptory manner, I assure you. What an incoherent letter will you have, when I can get it to you! But now I know where to send it, Mr Hickman shall find me a messenger. Yet, if he be detected, poor soul, he will be Harlowed off, as well as his meek mistress.

Thursday, April 13. I HAVE this moment your continuation-letter, and am favoured at present with the absence of my Argus-eyed mother.

Dear creature! I can account for all your difficulties. A young lady of your delicacy! And with such a man!-I must be brief

The man's a fool, my dear, with all his pride, and with all his complaisance, and affected regards to your injunctions. Yet his ready inventions

Sometimes I think you should go to Lady

Betty's. I know not what to advise you to do. I should, if you were not so intent upon reconciling yourself to your relations. Yet they are implacable. You can have no hopes of them. Your uncle's errand to my mother may convince you of that; and if you have an answer to your letter to your sister, that will confirm you, I dare say.

You need not to have been afraid of asking me, whether, upon reading your narrative, I thought any extenuation could lie for what you have done! I have, as above, before I had your question, told you my mind as to that. And I repeat, that I think, your provocations and inducements considered, you are free from blame ; at least the freest that ever young creature was who took such a step.

But you took it not-You were driven on one side, and, possibly, tricked on the other. If any woman on earth shall be circumstanced as you were, and shall hold out so long as you did, against her persecutors on one hand, and her seducer on the other, I will forgive her for all the rest of her conduct, be it what it will.

All your acquaintance, you may suppose, talk of nobody but you. Some, indeed, bring your admirable character for a plea against you; but nobody does, or can, acquit your father and uncles.

Everybody seems apprized of your brother and sister's motives. Your flight is, no doubt, the very thing they aimed to drive you to, by the various attacks they made upon you, unhoping (as they must do all the time) the success of their schemes in Solmes's behalf. They knew, that if once you were restored to favour, the suspended love of your father and uncles, like a river breaking down a temporary obstruction, would return with double force, and that then you would expose, and triumph over all their arts. And now, I hear they enjoy their successful malice.

Your father is all rage and violence. He ought, I am sure, to turn his rage inward. All your family accuse you of acting with deep art, and are put upon supposing that you are actually every hour exulting over them with your man, in the success of it.

They all pretend now, that your trial of Wednesday was to be the last.

Advantage would indeed, my mother owns, have been taken of your yielding, if you had yielded. But, had you not been to be prevailed upon, they would have given up their scheme, and taken your promise for renouncing Lovelace.-Believe them who will!

They own, however, that a minister was to be present.-Mr Solmes was to be at hand.And your father was previously to try his authority over you, in order to make you sign the settlements; all of it a romantic contrivance of your wild-headed foolish brother, I make no

doubt. Is it likely that he and Bell would have given way to your restoration to favour, supposing it in their power to hinder it, on any other terms than those their hearts had been so long set upon ?

How they took your flight, when they found it out, may be better supposed than described. Your aunt Harvey, it seems, was the first that went down to the ivy summer-house, in order to acquaint you that their search was over. Betty followed her, and they not finding you there, went on towards the cascade, according to a hint of yours.

Returning by the garden-door, they met a servant [they don't say it was that Joseph Leman, but it is very likely that it was he running, as he said, from pursuing Mr Lovelace (a great hedge-stake in his hand, and out of breath) to alarm the family.

If it were this fellow, and if he were employed in the double agency of cheating them, and cheating you, what shall we think of the wretch you are with? Run away from him, my dear, if so-no matter to whom-or marry him, if

you cannot.

Your aunt and all your family were accordingly alarmed by this fellow-evidently when too late for pursuit. They got together, and, when a posse, ran to the place of interview, and some of them as far as to the tracks of the chariot wheels, without stopping; and having heard the man's tale upon the spot, a general lamentation, a mutual upbraiding, and rage, and grief, were echoed from the different persons, according to their different tempers and conceptions; and they returned like fools, as they

went.

Your brother at first ordered horses and armed men to be got ready for a pursuit. Solmes and your uncle Tony were to be of the party, but your mother and your aunt Hervey dissuaded them from it, for fear of adding evil to evil, not doubting but Lovelace had taken measures to support himself in what he had done, and especially when the servant declared, that he saw you run with him as fast as you could set foot to the ground, and that there were several armed men on horseback at a small distance off.

My mother's absence was owing to her suspicion that the Knollyses were to assist in our correspondence. She made them a visit upon it. She does every thing at once; and they have promised that no more letters shall be left there without her knowledge.

But Mr Hickman has engaged one Filmer, a husbandman in the lane we call Finch-Lane, near us, to receive them. Thither you will be pleased to direct yours, under cover, to Mr John Soberton; and Mr Hickman himself will call

for them there, and there shall leave mine. It goes against me too, to make him so useful to me. He looks already so proud upon it! I shall have him [Who knows? give himself airs.He had best consider, that the favour he has been long aiming at, may put him into a very dangerous, a very ticklish situation. He that can oblige, may disoblige-Happy for some people not to have it in their power to offend!

I will have patience, if I can, for a while, to see if these bustlings in my mother will subside; but, upon my word, I will not long bear this usage.

Sometimes I am ready to think that my mother carries it thus on purpose to tire me out, and to make me the sooner marry. If I find it to be so, and that Hickman, in order to make a merit with me, is in the low plot, I will never bear him in my sight.

Plotting wretch as I doubt your man is, I wish to Heaven that you were married, that you might brave them all, and not be forced to hide yourself, and be hurried from one inconvenient place to another. I charge you, omit not to lay hold on any handsome opportunity that may offer for that purpose.

Here again comes my mother

I am got into a private corner of the garden, to be out of her way.-Lord help these mothers! Do they think they can prevent a daughter's writing, or doing anything she has a mind to do, by suspicion, watchfulness, and scolding? They had better place a confidence in one by half-Ā generous mind scorns to abuse a generous confidence.

You have a nice, a very nice, part to act with this wretch-who yet has, I think, but one plain path before him. I pity you-but you must make the best of the lot you have been forced to draw; yet I see your difficulties.-But, if he do not offer to abuse your confidence, I would have you seem at least to place some in him.

If you think not of marrying soon, I approve of your resolution to fix somewhere out of his reach; and if he know not where to find you, so much the better. Yet I verily believe, they would force you back, could they but come at you, if they were not afraid of him.

I think, by all means, you should demand of both your trustees to be put in possession of your own estate. Meantime, I have sixty guineas at your service; I beg you will command them. Before they are gone, I'll take care you

As they believe you went away by your own consent, they are, it seems, equally surprised and glad that you have left your jewels and money behind you, and have contrived for clothes so ill. Very little likelihood this shews of their answering your requests.

Indeed every one who knows not what I now know, must be at a loss to account for your flight, as they will call it. And how, my dear, can one report it with any tolerable advantage to you?—To say, you did not intend it when you met him, who will believe it?-To say, that a person of your known steadiness and punctilio was over-persuaded when you gave him the meeting, how will that sound?-To say, you were tricked out of yourself, and people were to give credit to it, how disreputable!And while unmarried, and yet with him, the man a man of such a character, what would it not lead a censuring world to think?

I want to see how you put it in your letter for your clothes.

As you may depend upon all the little spiteful things they can offer, instead of sending what you write for, pray accept the sum 1 tender. What will seven guineas do?—And I will find a way to send you also any of my clothes and linen for present supply. I beg, my dear Clarissa, that you will not put your Anna Howe upon a footing with Lovelace, in refusing to accept of my offer. If you do not oblige me, I shall be apt to think that you rather incline to be obliged to him, than to favour me. And if I find this, I shall not know how to reconcile it with your delicacy in other respects.

Pray inform me of every thing that passes between you and him. My cares for you (however needless, from your own prudence) make me wish you to continue to be very minute. If any thing occur that you would tell me of if I were present, fail not to put it down in writing, although, from your natural diffidence, it should not appear to you altogether so worthy of your pen, or of my knowing. A stander-by may see more of the game than one that plays. Great consequences, like great folks, generally owe their greatness to small causes, and little incidents.

Upon the whole, I do not now think it is in your power to dismiss him when you please. I apprized you beforehand, that it would not. I repeat, therefore, that were I you, I would at least seem to place some confidence in him. So long as he is decent, you may. Very visibly observable, to such delicacy as yours, must be that behaviour in him, which will make him unworthy of some confidence.

Your relations, according to what old Antony

says to my mother, and she to me, (by way of threatening, that you will not gain your supposed ends upon them by your flight,) seem to expect that you will throw yourself into Lady Betty's protection; and that she will offer to mediate for you. And they vow, that they will never hearken to any terms of accommodation that shall come from that quarter. They might speak out, and say, from any quarter; for I dare aver, that your brother and sister will not let them cool-at least, till their uncles have made such dispositions, and perhaps your father too, as they would have them make.

As this letter will apprize you of an alteration in the place to which you must direct your next, I send it by a friend of Mr Hickman, who may be depended upon. He has business in the neighbourhood of Mrs Sorlings; and he knows her. He will return to Mr Hickman this night; and bring back any letter you shall have ready to send, or can get ready. It is moon-light. He'll not mind waiting for you. I choose not to send by any of Mr Hickman's servants-at present, however. Every hour is now, or may be, important; and may make an alteration in your resolutions necessary.

I hear at this instant, my mother calling about her, and putting every body into motion. She will soon, I suppose, make me and my employment the subjects of her inquiry.

Adieu, my dear. May heaven preserve you, and restore you, with honour as unsullied as your mind, to

Your ever affectionate

ANNA HOWE.

LETTER VIII.

MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE TO MISS Howe.

Thursday Afternoon, April 13.

I AM infinitely concerned, my ever dear and ever kind friend, that I am the sad occasion of the displeasure between your mother and you. -How many persons have I made unhappy!

Had I not to console myself, that my error is not owing to wicked precipitation, I should be the most miserable of all creatures. As it is, I am enough punished in the loss of my character, more valuable to me than my life; and in the cruel doubts and perplexities which, conflicting with my hopes, and each getting the victory by turns, harrow up my soul between them.

I think, however, that you should obey your mother, and decline a correspondence with me; at least for the present. Take care how you fall into my error; for that began with carrying on a prohibited correspondence; a correspondence which I thought it in my power to discontinue at pleasure. My talent is scribbling; and I the readier fell into this freedom, as I found delight

in writing; having motives too, which I thought laudable, and, at one time, the permission of all my friends, to write to him.*

Yet, as to this correspondence, What hurt could arise from it, if your mother could be prevailed upon to permit it to be continued? So much prudence and discretion as you have; and you, in writing to me, lying under no temptation of following so bad an example as I have setmy letters, too, occasionally filled with self-accusation.

I thank you, my dear, most cordially I thank you, for your kind offers. You may be assured, that I will sooner be beholden to you, than to any body living. To Mr Lovelace the last. Do not therefore think, that by declining your favours, I have an intention to lay myself under obligations to him.

I am willing to hope (notwithstanding what you write) that my friends will send me my little money, together with my clothes. They are too considerate, some of them, at least, to permit that I should be put to such low difficulties. Perhaps they will not be in haste to oblige me. But, if not, I cannot yet want. I believe you think, I must not dispute with Mr Lovelace the expenses of the road and lodgings, till I can get a fixed abode. But I hope soon to put an end even to those sort of obligations.

Small hopes indeed of a reconciliation from your account of my uncle's visit to your mother, in order to set her against an almost friendless creature whom once he loved! But is it not my duty to try for it? Ought I to widen my error by obstinacy and resentment, because of their resentment; which must appear reasonable to them, as they suppose my flight premeditated; and as they are made to believe, that I am capable of triumphing in it, and over them, with the man they hate? When I have done all in my power to restore myself to their favour, I shall have the less to reproach myself with.

These considerations make me waver about following your advice, in relation to marriage; and the rather, as he is so full of complaisance with regard to my former conditions, which he calls my injunctions. Nor can I, now that my friends, as you inform me, have so strenuously declared against accepting of the mediation of the ladies of Mr Lovelace's family, put myself into their protection, unless I am resolved to give up all hopes of a reconciliation with my own.

Yet if any happy introduction could be thought of to effect this desirable purpose, how shall terms be proposed to my father, while this man is with me, or near me? On the other hand, should they in his absence get me back by force, (and this, you are of opinion, they would attempt to do, but in fear of him,) how will their sever

est acts of compulsion be justified by my flight from them!-Meanwhile, to what censures, as you remind me, do I expose myself, while he and I are together and unmarried!--Yet [can I with patience ask the question? Is it in my power ?-0, my dear Miss Howe! And am I so reduced, as that, to save the poor remains of my reputation in the world's eye, I must watch the gracious motion from this man's lips?

Were my cousin Morden in England, all might still perhaps be determined happily.

If no other mediation than this can be procured to set on foot the wished-for reconciliation, and if my situation with Mr Lovelace alter not in the interim, I must endeavour to keep myself in a state of independence till he arrive, that I may be at liberty to govern myself by his advice and direction.

I will acquaint you, as you desire, with all that passes between Mr Lovelace and me. Hitherto I have not discovered any thing in his behaviour that is very exceptionable. Yet I cannot say, that I think the respect he shews me, an easy, unrestrained, and natural respect, although I can hardly tell where the fault is.

But he has doubtless an arrogant and encroaching spirit. Nor is he so polite as his education, and other advantages, might have made one expect him to be. He seems, in short, to be one, who has always had too much of his own will, to study to accommodate himself to that of others.

As to the placing of some confidence in him, I shall be as ready to take your advice in this particular, as in all others, and as he will be to deserve it. But tricked away as I was by him, not only against my judgment, but my inclination, can he, or any body, expect, that I should immediately treat him with complaisance, as if I acknowledged obligation to him for carrying me away?-If I did, must he not either think me vile dissembler before he gained that point, or afterwards?

Indeed, indeed, my dear, I could tear my hair, on reconsidering what you write (as to the probability that the dreaded Wednesday was more dreaded than it needed to be) to think, that I should be thus tricked by this man; and that, in all likelihood, through his vile agent Joseph Leman. So premeditated and elaborate a wickedness as it must be !-Must I not, with such a man, be wanting to myself, if I were not jealous and vigilant ?-Yet what a life to live for a spirit so open, and naturally so unsuspicious, as mine.

I am obliged to Mr Hickman for the assistance he is so kindly ready to give to our correspondence. He is so little likely to make to himself an additional merit with the daughter upon

it, that I shall be very sorry, if he risk anything with the mother by it.

I am now in a state of obligation: so must rest satisfied with whatever I cannot help. Whom have I the power, once so precious to me, of obliging?-What I mean, my dear, is, that I ought, perhaps, to expect, that my influences over you are weakened by my indiscretion. Nevertheless, I will not, if I can help it, desert myself, nor give up the privilege you used to allow me, of telling you what I think of such parts of your conduct as I may not ap

prove.

You must permit me therefore, severe as your mother is against an undesigning offender, to say that I think your liveliness to her inexcusable-to pass over for this time, what nevertheless concerns me not a little, the free treatment you almost indiscriminately give to my relations.

If you will not, for your duty's sake, forbear your tauntings and impatience, let me beseech you, that you will for mine.-Since otherwise, your mother may apprehend, that my example, like a leaven, is working itself into the mind of her beloved daughter. And may not such an apprehension give her an irreconcilable displeasure against me?

I enclose the copy of my letter to my sister, which you are desirous to see. You will observe, that although I have not demanded my estate in form, and of my trustees, yet that I have hinted at leave to retire to it. How joyfully would I keep my word, if they would accept of the offer I renew!-It was not proper, I believe you will think, on many accounts, to own that I was carried off against my inclination. I am, my dearest friend,

Your ever obliged and affectionate
CL. HARLOWE.

LETTER IX.

TO MISS ARABELLA HARLOWE.

[Enclosed to Miss Howe in the preceding.]

MY DEAR SISTER,

St Alban's, April 11.

I HAVE, I confess, been guilty of an action which carries with it a rash and undutiful appearance. And I should have thought it an inexcusable one, had I been used with less severity than I have been of late; and had I not had too great reason to apprehend, that I was to be made a sacrifice to a man I could not bear to think of. But what is done, is done-perhaps I could wish it had not; and that I had trusted to the relenting of my dear and honoured parents. Yet this from no other motives but those of duty to them.-To whom I am ready to return (if I may not be permitted to retire to

The Grove) on conditions which I before offered to comply with.

on the person by whose means I have taken Nor shall I be in any sort of dependence upthis truly-reluctant step, inconsistent with any reasonable engagement I shall enter into, if I it to say, now at this important crisis! that I am not farther precipitated. Let me not have have a sister, but not a friend in that sister. My reputation, dearer to me than life, (whatken,) is suffering. A little lenity will, even yet, ever you may imagine from the step I have tapass for a temporary misunderstanding only, in a great measure restore it, and make that which otherwise will be a stain as durable as life, upon a creature who has already been treated with great unkindness, to use no harsher a word.

For your own sake, therefore, for my brother's precipitated, and for all the family's sake, agsake, by whom (I must say) I have been thus gravate not my fault, if, on recollecting every thing, you think it one; nor, by widening the unhappy difference, expose a sister for ever

prays

Your affectionate CL. HARLOWE.

I shall take it for a very great favour to have my clothes directly sent me, together with fifty guineas, which you will find in my escritoire, (of which I enclose the key ;) as also of the divinity and miscellany classes of my little library; and, if it be thought fit, my jewels-directed for me, to be left till called for, at Mr Osgood's, near Soho-square.

LETTER X.