Clarissa Harlowe, Samuel Richardson [black authors fiction .txt] 📗

I wonder you dare write so freely of one we all respect⁠—but possibly it may be for that very reason.

How you begin your letter!⁠—Because I value Mr. Solmes as my friend, you treat him the worse⁠—That’s the plain dunstable of the matter, Miss!⁠—I am not such a fool but I can see that.⁠—And so a noted whoremonger is to be chosen before a man who is a money-lover!⁠—Let me tell you, Niece, this little becomes so nice a one as you have been always reckoned. Who, think you, does more injustice, a prodigal man or a saving man?⁠—The one saves his own money; the other spends other people’s. But your favourite is a sinner in grain, and upon record.

The devil’s in your sex! God forgive me for saying so⁠—the nicest of them will prefer a vile rake and wh⁠—I suppose I must not repeat the word:⁠—the word will offend, when the vicious denominated by that word will be chosen!⁠—I had not been a bachelor to this time, if I had not seen such a mass of contradictions in you all.⁠—Such gnat-strainers and camel-swallowers, as venerable Holy Writ has it.

What names will perverseness call things by!⁠—A prudent man, who intends to be just to everybody, is a covetous man!⁠—While a vile, profligate rake is christened with the appellation of a gallant man; and a polite man, I’ll warrant you!

It is my firm opinion, Lovelace would not have so much regard for you as he professes, but for two reasons. And what are these?⁠—Why, out of spite to all of us⁠—one of them. The other, because of your independent fortune. I wish your good grandfather had not left what he did so much in your own power, as I may say. But little did he imagine his beloved granddaughter would have turned upon all her friends as she has done!

What has Mr. Solmes to hope for, if you are prepossessed! Heyday! Is this you, cousin Clary!⁠—Has he then nothing to hope for from your father’s, and mother’s, and our recommendations?⁠—No, nothing at all, it seems!⁠—O brave!⁠—I should think that this, with a dutiful child, as we took you to be, was enough. Depending on this your duty, we proceeded: and now there is no help for it: for we will not be balked: neither shall our friend Mr. Solmes, I can tell you that.

If your estate is convenient for him, what then? Does that (pert cousin) make it out that he does not love you? He had need to expect some good with you, that has so little good to hope for from you; mind that. But pray, is not this estate our estate, as we may say? Have we not all an interest in it, and a prior right, if right were to have taken place? And was it not more than a good old man’s dotage, God rest his soul! that gave it you before us all?⁠—Well then, ought we not to have a choice who shall have it in marriage with you? and would you have the conscience to wish us to let a vile fellow, who hates us all, run away with it?⁠—You bid me weigh what you write: do you weigh this, Girl: and it will appear we have more to say for ourselves than you was aware of.

As to your hard treatment, as you call it, thank yourself for that. It may be over when you will: so I reckon nothing upon that. You was not banished and confined till all entreaty and fair speeches were tried with you: mind that. And Mr. Solmes can’t help your obstinacy: let that be observed too.

As to being visited, and visiting; you never was fond of either: so that’s a grievance put into the scale to make weight.⁠—As to disgrace, that’s as bad to us as to you: so fine a young creature! So much as we used to brag of you too!⁠—And besides, this is all in your power, as the rest.

But your heart recoils, when you would persuade yourself to obey your parent⁠—Finely described, is it not!⁠—Too truly described, I own, as you go on. I know that you may love him if you will. I had a good mind to bid you hate him; then, perhaps, you would like him the better: for I have always found a most horrid romantic perverseness in your sex.⁠—To do and to love what you should not, is meat, drink, and vesture, to you all.

I am absolutely of your brother’s mind, That reading and writing, though not too much for the wits of you young girls, are too much for your judgments.⁠—You say, you may be conceited, Cousin; you may be vain!⁠—And so you are, to despise this gentleman as you do. He can read and write as well as most gentlemen, I can tell you that. Who told you Mr. Solmes cannot read and write? But you must have a husband who can learn you something!⁠—I wish you knew but your duty as well as you do your talents⁠—that, Niece, you have of late days to learn; and Mr. Solmes will therefore find something to instruct you in. I will not show him this letter of yours, though you seem to desire it, lest it should provoke him to be too severe a schoolmaster, when you are his’n.

But now I think of it, suppose you are the readier at your pen than he⁠—You will make the more useful wife to him; won’t you? For who so good an economist as you?⁠—And you may keep all of his accounts, and save yourselves a steward.⁠—And, let me tell you, this is a fine advantage in a family: for those stewards are often sad dogs, and creep into a man’s estate before he knows where he is; and not seldom is he forced to pay them interest for his own money.

I know not why a good wife should be above these things. It is better than lying abed half the day, and junketing and card-playing all the night,