(unprotected as I have long been) as his property.

Now, Mr Belford, as I have already mentioned, knows everything that has passed. He is a man of spirit, and, it seems, as fearless as the other, with more humane qualities. You don't know, my dear, what instances of sincere humanity this Mr Belford has shewn, not only on occasion of the cruel arrest, but on several occasions since. And Mrs Lovick has taken pains to inquire after his general character; and hears a very good one of him, for justice and generosity in all his concerns of meum and tuum, as they are called; he has a knowledge of law-matters; and has two executorships upon him at this time, in the discharge of which his honour is unquestioned.

All these reasons have already in a manner determined me to ask this favour of him; although it will have an odd sound with it to make an intimate friend of Mr Lovelace my

executor.

This is certain; my brother will be more acquiescent a great deal in such a case with the articles of my will, as he will see that it will be to no purpose to controvert some of them, which else, I dare say, he would controvert, or persuade my other friends to do so. And who would involve an executor in a law-suit, if they could help it? Which would be the case, if anybody were left, whom my brother could hope to awe or control; since my father has possession of all, and is absolutely governed by him. Angry spirits, my dear, as I have often seen, will be overcome by more angry ones, as well as sometimes be disarmed by the meek.] -Nor would I wish, you may believe, to have effects torn out of my father's hands; while Mr Belford, who is a man of fortune, (and a good economist in his own affairs,) would have no interest but to do justice.

Then he exceedingly presses for some occasion to shew his readiness to serve me; and he would be able to manage his violent friend, over whom he has more influence than any other per

son.

But, after all, I know not if it were not more eligible by far, that my story, and myself, too, should be forgotten as soon as possible. And of this I shall have the less doubt, if the character of my parents you will forgive me, my dear] cannot be guarded against the unqualified bitterness which, from your affectionate zeal for me, has sometimes mingled with your ink-a point that ought, and (I insist upon it) must be well considered of, if anything be done which your mother and you are desirous to have done. The generality of the world is too apt to oppose a duty-and general duties, my dear, ought not to be weakened by the justification of a single person, however unhappily circumstanced. My father has been so good as to take off the heavy malediction he laid me under. I must

be now solicitous for a last blessing; and that is all I shall presume to petition for. My sister's letter, communicating this grace, is a severe one; but as she writes to me as from everybody, how could I expect it to be otherwise?

If you set out to-morrow, this letter cannot reach you till you get to your aunt Harman's. I shall therefore direct it thither, as Mr Hickman instructed me.

I hope you will have met with no inconveniencies in your little journey and voyage; and that you will have found in good health all whom you wish to see well.

If your relations in the little island join their solicitations with your mother's commands, to have your nuptials celebrated before you leave them, let me beg of you, my dear, to oblige them. How grateful will the notification that you have done so be to

Your ever faithful and affectionate
CL. HARLOWE.

LETTER CCLXXXVII.

MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE TO MISS HARLOWE.

Saturday, July 29.

I REPINE not, my dear sister, at the severity you have been pleased to express in the letter you favoured me with; because that severity was accompanied with the grace I had petitioned for; and because the reproaches of mine own heart are stronger than any other person's reproaches can be; and yet I am not half so culpable as I am imagined to be; as would be allowed, if all the circumstances of my unhappy story were known; and which I shall be ready to communicate to Mrs Norton, if she be commissioned to inquire into them; or to you, my sister, if you can have patience to hear them."

I remembered with a bleeding heart what day the 24th of July was. I began with the eve of it; and I passed the day itself-as it was fit I should pass it. Nor have I any comfort to give to my dear and ever-honoured father and mother, and to you, my Bella, but this—that, as it was the first unhappy anniversary of my birth, in all probability it will be the last.

Believe me, my dear sister, I say not this merely to move compassion, but from the best grounds. And as, on that account, I think it of the highest importance to my peace of mind to obtain one farther favour, I would choose to owe to your intercession, as my sister, the leave I beg, to address half a dozen lines (with the hope of having them answered as I wish) to either or to both my honoured parents, to beg their last blessing.

This blessing is all the favour I have now to ask; it is all I dare to ask; yet am I afraid to rush at once, though by letter, into the presence of either. And if I did not ask it, it might

seem to be owing to stubbornness and want of duty, when my heart is all humility and penitence. Only, be so good as to embolden me to attempt this task-write but this one line, Clary Harlowe, you are at liberty to write as you desire.' This will be enough-and shall, to my last hour, be acknowledged as the greatest favour, by

Your truly penitent sister,
CLARISSA HARLOWE.

LETTER CCLXXXVIII.

MRS NORTON TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE.

Monday, July 31.

MY DEAREST YOUNG LADY, I MUST indeed own that I took the liberty to write to your mother, offering to enclose to her, if she gave me leave, yours of the 24th: by which I thought she would see what was the state of your mind; what the nature of your last troubles was from the wicked arrest; what the people are where you lodge; what proposals were made you from Lord M.'s family; also your sincere penitence; and how much Miss Howe's writing to them, in the terms she wrote in, disturbed you-but, as you have taken the matter into your own hands, and forbid me, in your last, to act in this nice affair unknown to you, I am glad the letter was not required of me—and indeed it may be better that the matter lie wholly between you and them; since my affection for you is thought to proceed from partiality.

They would choose, no doubt, that you should owe to themselves, and not to my humble mediation, the favour for which you so earnestly sue, and of which I would not have you despair for I will adventure to assure you, that your mother is ready to take the first opportunity to shew her maternal tenderness: and this I gather from several hints I am not at liberty to explain myself upon.

I long to be with you, now I am better, and now my son is in a fair way of recovery. But is it not hard to have it signified to me that at present it will not be taken well if I go?—I suppose, while the reconciliation, which I hope will take place, is negotiating by means of the correspondence so newly opened between you and your sister. But if you would have me come, I will rely on my good intentions, and risk every one's displeasure.

Mr Brand has business in town; to solicit for a benefice which it is expected the incumbent will be obliged to quit for a better preferment: and, when there, he is to inquire privately after your way of life, and of your health.

He is a very officious young man; and, but that your uncle Harlowe (who has chosen him for this errand) regards him as an oracle, your mother had rather anybody else had been sent. He is one of those puzzling, over-doing gentlemen, who think they see farther into matters than anybody else, and are fond of discovering mysteries where there are none, in order to be thought shrewd men.

I can't say I like him, either in the pulpit or out of it: I, who had a father one of the soundest divines and finest scholars in the kingdom; who never made an ostentation of what he knew ; but loved and venerated the gospel he taught, preferring it to all other learning; to be obliged to hear a young man depart from his text as soon as he has named it, (so contrary, too, to the example set him by his learned and worthy principal, when his health permits him to preach ;) and throwing about, to a christian and country audience, scraps of Latin and Greek from the pagan classics; and not always brought in with great propriety neither, (if I am to judge by the only way given me to judge of them, by the English he puts them into,) is an indication of something wrong, either in his head or his heart, or both; for, otherwise, his education at the university must have taught him better. You know, my dear Miss Clary, the honour I have for the cloth: it is owing to that, that I say what I do.

I know not the day he is to set out; and, as his inquiries are to be private, be pleased to take no notice of this intelligence. I have no doubt that your life and conversation are such as may defy the scrutinies of the most officious inquirer.

I am just now told that you have written a second letter to your sister; but am afraid they will wait for Mr Brand's report, before farther favour will be obtained from them; for they will not believe you are so ill as I fear you are.

But you would soon find that you have an indulgent mother, were she at liberty to act according to her own inclination. And this gives me great hopes that all will end well at last: for verily think you are in the right way to a reconciliation. God give a blessing to it, and restore your health, and you to all your friends, prays

I

Your ever affectionate JUDITH NORTON.

Your good mother has privately sent me five guineas; she is pleased to say to help us in the illness we have been afflicted with; but, more likely, that I might send them to you, as from myself. I hope, therefore, I may send them up, with ten more I have still left. I will send you word of Mr Morden's arrival, the moment I know it.

If agreeable, I should be glad to know all that passes between your relations and you.

LETTER CCLXXXIX.

MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE TO MRS NORTON.

Wednesday, Aug. 2. You give me, my dear Mrs Norton, great pleasure in hearing of yours and your son's recovery. May you continue, for many, many years, a blessing to each other!

You tell me that you did actually write to my mother, offering to enclose to her mine of the 24th past: and you say it was not required of you. That is to say, although you cover it over as gently as you could, that your offer was rejected; which makes it evident that no plea will be made for me. Yet, you bid me hope, that the grace I sued for would, in time, be granted. The grace I then sued for was indeed granted; but you are afraid, you say, that they will wait for Mr Brand's report, before favour will be obtained in return to the second letter which I wrote to my sister; and you add, that I have an indulgent mother, were she at liberty to act according to her own inclination; and that all will end well at last.

But what, my dear Mrs Norton, what is the grace I sue for in my second letter?-It is not that they will receive me into favour-If they think it is—they are mistaken. I do not, I cannot expect that. Nor, as I have often said, should I, if they would receive me, bear to live in the eye of those dear friends whom I have so grievously offended. 'Tis only, simply, a blessing I ask: a blessing to die with; not to live with.

-Do they know that? and do they know that their unkindness will perhaps shorten my date; so that their favour, if ever they intend to grant it, may come too late?

Once more, I desire you not to think of coming to me. I have no uneasiness now, but what proceeds from the apprehension of seeing a man I would not see for the world, if I could help it; and from the severity of my nearest and dearest relations: a severity entirely their own, I doubt; for you tell me that my brother is at Edinburgh! You would therefore heighten their severity, aud make yourself enemies besides, if you were to come to me-Don't you see that you would?

Mr Brand may come, if he will. He is a clergyman, and must mean well or I must think so, let him say of me what he will. All my fear is, that, as he knows I am in disgrace with a family whose esteem he is desirous to cultivate; and as he has obligations to my uncle Harlowe and to my father; he will be but a

languid acquitter-not that I am afraid of what he, or anybody in the world, can hear as to my conduct. You may, my revered and dear friend, indeed you may, rest satisfied, that that is such as may warrant me to challenge the inquiries of the most officious.

I will send you copies of what passes, as you desire, when I have an answer to my second letter. I now begin to wish that I had taken the heart to write to my father himself; or to my mother, at least; instead of to my sister; and yet I doubt my poor mother can do nothing for me of herself. A strong confederacy, my dear Mrs Norton, (a strong confederacy indeed!) against a poor girl, their daughter, sister, niece! -My brother, perhaps, got it renewed before he left them. He needed not-his work is done; and more than done.

Don't afflict yourself about money-matters on my account. I have no occasion for money. I am glad my mother was so considerate to you. I was in pain for you on the same subject. But Heaven will not permit so good a woman to want the humble blessings she was always satisfied with. I wish every individual of our family were but as rich as you!-O my mamma Norton, you are rich! you are rich indeed!-the true riches are such content as you are blessed with. -And I hope in God that I am in the way to be rich too.

Adieu, my ever-indulgent friend. You say all will be at last happy--and I know it will— I confide that it will, with as much security as you may, that I will be, to my last hour,

Your ever grateful and affectionate
CL. HARLOWE.

LETTER CCXC.

MR LOVELACE TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.

Tuesday, Aug. 1. I AM most confoundedly chagrined and disappointed: for here, on Saturday, arrived a messenger from Miss Howe, with a letter to my cousins;* which I knew nothing of till yesterday; when Lady Sarah and Lady Betty were procured to be here, to sit in judgment upon it with the old peer, and my two kinswomen. And never was bear so miserably baited as thy poor friend!-And for what?-why for the cruelty of Miss Harlowe: For have I committed any new offence? and would I not have reinstated myself in her favour upon her own terms, if I could? And is it fair to punish me for what is my misfortune, and not my fault? Such eventjudging fools as I have for my relations! I am ashamed of them all.

In that of Miss Howe was enclosed one to

her from Miss Harlowe, to be transmitted to my cousins, containing a final rejection of me; and that in very vehement and positive terms; yet she pretends that, in this rejection, she is governed more by principle than passion[D- -d lie, as ever was told ! and, as a proof that she is, says, that she can forgive me, and does, on this one condition, that I will never molest her more-the whole letter so written as to make herself more admired, me more detested. What we have been told of the agitations and workings, and sighings and sobbings, of the French prophets among us formerly, was nothing at all to the scene exhibited by these maudlin souls, at the reading of these letters; and of some affecting passages extracted from another of my fair implacable's to Miss Howesuch lamentations for the loss of so charming a relation! such applaudings of her virtue, of her exaltedness of soul and sentiments! such menaces of disinherisons! I not needing their reproaches to be stung to the heart with my own reflections, and with the rage of disappointment, and as sincerely as any of them admiring her"What the devil," cried I, " is all this for? Is it not enough to be despised and rejected? Can I help her implacable spirit? Would I not repair the evils I have made her suffer?"-Then was I ready to curse them all, herself and Miss Howe for company; and heartily swore that she should yet be mine.

I now swear it over again to thee-" Were her death to follow in a week after the knot is tied, by the Lord of Heaven, it shall be tied, and she shall die a Lovelace!"-Tell her so, if thou wilt: but, at the same time, tell her that I have no view to her fortune; and that I will solemnly resign that, and all pretensions to it, in whose favour she pleases, if she resign life is sueless. I am not so low-minded a wretch, as to be guilty of any sordid views to her fortune. -Let her judge for herself, then, whether it be not for her honour rather to leave this world a Lovelace than a Harlowe.

But do not think I will entirely rest a cause so near my heart upon an advocate who so much more admires his client's adversary than his client. I will go to town, in a few days, in order to throw myself at her feet: and I will carry with me, or have at hand, a resolute, wellprepared parson; and the ceremony shall be performed, let what will be the consequence.

But if she will permit me to attend her for this purpose at either of the churches mentioned in the licence, (which she has by her, and, thank Heaven! has not returned me with my letters,) then will I not disturb her; but meet her at the altar in either church, and will engage to bring my two cousins to attend her, and

even Lady Sarah and Lady Betty; and my Lord M. in person shall give her to me.

Or, if it be still more agreeable to her, I will undertake that either Lady Sarah or Lady Betty, or both, shall go to town and attend her down; and the marriage shall be celebrated in their presence, and in that of Lord M., either here or elsewhere, at her own choice.

Do not play me booty, Belford; but sincerely and warmly use all the eloquence thou art master of, to prevail upon her to choose one of these three methods. One of them she must choose-by my soul, she must.

Here is Charlotte tapping at my closet-door for admittance. What a devil wants Charlotte? I will hear no more reproaches !-Come in, girl!

My cousin Charlotte, finding me writing on with too much earnestness to have any regard for politeness to her, and guessing at my subject, besought me to let her see what I had written.

I obliged her. And she was so highly pleased on seeing me so much in earnest, that she offered, and I accepted her offer, to write a letter to Miss Harlowe; with permission to treat me in it as she thought fit.

I shall enclose a copy of her letter.

When she had written it, she brought it to me, with apologies for the freedom taken with me in it; but I excused it; and she was ready to give me a kiss for joy of my approbation; and I gave her two for writing it, telling her Í had hopes of success from it, and that I thought she had luckily hit it off.

Every one approves of it, as well as I ; and is pleased with me for so patiently submitting to be abused, and undertaken for.-If it do not succeed, all the blame will be thrown upon the dear creature's perverseness; her charitable or forgiving disposition, about which she makes such a parade, will be justly questioned; and the pity, of which she is now in full possession will be transferred to me.

Putting, therefore, my whole confidence in this letter, I postpone all my other alternatives, as also my going to town, till my empress send an answer to my cousin Montague.

But if she persist, and will not promise to take time to consider of the matter, thou mayest communicate to her what I had written, as above. before my cousin entered; and, if she be still perverse, assure her, that I must and will see her-but this with all honour, all humility; and, if I cannot move her in my favour, I will then go abroad, and perhaps never more return to England.

I am sorry thou art, at this critical time, so busily employed, as thou informest me thou art, in thy Watford affairs, and in preparing to do Belton justice. If thou wantest my assistance in the latter, command me. Though engrossed by this perverse beauty, and plagued as I am, I will obey thy first summons.

I have great dependence upon thy zeal and thy friendship; hasten back to her, therefore, and resume a task so interesting to me, that it is equally the subject of my dreams, as of my waking hours.

LETTER CCXCI.

MISS MONTAGUE TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE.

Tuesday, Aug. 1.

DEAREST MADAM, ALL our family is deeply sensible of the injuries you have received at the hands of one of it, whom you only can render in any manner worthy of the relation he stands in to us all; and if, as an act of mercy and charity, the greatest your pious heart can shew, you will be pleased to look over his past wickedness and ingratitude, and suffer yourself to be our kinswoman, you will make us the happiest family in the world; and I can engage, that Lord M., and Lady Sarah Sadleir, and Lady Betty Lawrence, and my sister, who are all admirers of your virtues, and of your nobleness of mind, will for ever love and reverence you, and do everything in all their powers to make you amends for what you have suffered from Mr Lovelace. This, madam, we should not, however, dare to petition for, were we not assured, that Mr Lovelace is most sincerely sorry for his past vileness to you;` and that he will, on his knees, beg your pardon, and vow eternal love and honour to you.

Wherefore, my dearest cousin, [how you will charm us all, if this agreeable style may be permitted! for all our sakes, for his soul's sake, [you must, I am sure, be so good a lady, as to wish to save a soul!] and allow me to say, for your own fame's sake, condescend to our joint request; and if, by way of encouragement, you will but say you will be glad to see, and to be as much known personally, as you are by fame, to Charlotte Montague, I will, in two days' time from the receipt of your permission, wait upon you, with or without my sister, and receive your farther commands.

Let me, our dearest cousin, [we cannot deny ourselves the pleasure of calling you so; let me] entreat you to give me your permission for my journey to London; and put it in the power of Lord M. and of the ladies of the family, to make you what reparation they can make you, for the injuries which a person of the greatest merit in the world has received from one of the

most audacious men in it; and you will infinitely oblige us all; and particularly her, who repeatedly presumes to style herself Your affectionate cousin, and obliged servant, CHARLOTTE MONTAGUE.

LETTER CCXCII.

MR BELFORD TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ.

Thursday Morn., Aug. 3, Six o'clock. I HAVE been so much employed in my own and Belton's affairs, that I could not come to town till last night; having contented myself with sending to Mrs Lovick, to know, from time to time, the state of the lady's health; of which I received but very indifferent accounts, owing, in a great measure, to letters or advices brought her from her implacable family.

I have now completed my own affairs; and, next week, shall go to Epsom, to endeavour to put Belton's sister into possession of his own house for him; after which, I shall devote myself wholly to your service, and to that of the lady.

I was admitted to her presence last night; and found her visibly altered for the worse. When I went home, I had your letter of Tuesday last put into my hands. Let me tell thee, Lovelace, that I insist upon the performance of thy engagement to me that thou wilt not personally molest her.

[Mr Belford dates again on Thursday morning, ten o'clock; and gives an account of a conversation which he had just held with the Lady upon the subject of Miss Montague's letter to her, preceding, and upon Mr Lovelace's alternatives, as mentioned in Letter CCXC., which Mr Belford supported with the utmost earnestness. But, as the result of this conversation will be found in the subsequent letters, Mr Belford's pleas and arguments in favour of his friend, and the lady's answers, are omitted.]