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

it to be so, however): for I depended the more upon it, as the people I had it from are very sober, and live in the fear of God: and indeed when I wait upon you, you will see by their letter, that they must be conscientious good people: wherefore, Sir, let me be entitled, from all your good family, to that of my last-named poet,

Aspera confesso verba remitte reo.

And now, Sir, (what is much more becoming of my function), let me, instead of appearing with the face of an accuser, and a rash censurer, (which in my heart I have not deserved to be thought), assume the character of a reconciler; and propose (by way of penance to myself for my fault) to be sent up as a messenger of peace to the pious young lady; for they write me word absolutely (and, I believe in my heart, truly) that the doctors have given her over, and that she cannot live. Alas! alas! what a sad thing would that be, if the poor bough, that was only designed (as I very well know, and am fully assured) to be bent, should be broken!

Let it not, dear Sir, seem to the world that there was anything in your resentments (which, while meant for reclaiming, were just and fit) that hath the appearance of violence, and fierce wrath, and inexorability; (as it would look to some, if carried to extremity, after repentance and contrition, and humiliation, on the fair offender’s side): for all this while (it seemeth) she hath been a second Magdalen in her penitence, and yet not so bad as a Magdalen in her faults; (faulty, nevertheless, as she hath been once, the Lord knoweth!

Nam vitiis nemo sine nascitur: optimus ille est,
Qui minimis urgentur⁠⸺⁠saith Horace)

Now, Sir, if I may be named for this blessed employment, (for, Blessed is the peacemaker!) I will hasten to London; and (as I know Miss had always a great regard to the function I have the honour to be of) I have no doubt of making myself acceptable to her, and to bring her, by sound arguments, and good advice, into a liking of life, which must be the first step to her recovery: for, when the mind is made easy, the body will not long suffer; and the love of life is a natural passion, that is soon revived, when fortune turneth about, and smileth:

Vivere quisque diu, quamvis & egenus & ager,
Optat.⁠⸻

Ovid.

And the sweet Lucan truly observeth,

⸺⁠Fatis debentibus annos
Mors invita subit.⁠—

And now, Sir, let me tell you what shall be the tenor of my pleadings with her, and comfortings of her, as she is, as I may say, a learned lady; and as I can explain to her those sentences, which she cannot so readily construe herself: and this in order to convince you (did you not already know my qualifications) how well qualified I am for the Christian office to which I commend myself.

I will, in the First Place, put her in mind of the common course of things in this sublunary world, in which joy and sorrow, sorrow and joy, succeed one another by turns; in order to convince her, that her griefs have been but according to that common course of things:

Gaudia post luctus veniunt, post gaudia luctus.

Secondly, I will remind her of her own notable description of sorrow, whence she was once called upon to distinguish wherein sorrow, grief, and melancholy, differed from each other; which she did impromptu, by their effects, in a truly admirable manner, to the high satisfaction of everyone: I myself could not, by study, have distinguished better, nor more concisely⁠—Sorrow, said she, wears; grief tears; but melancholy sooths.

My inference to her shall be, that since a happy reconciliation will take place, grief will be banished; sorrow dismissed; and only sweet melancholy remain to sooth and indulge her contrite heart, and show to all the world the penitent sense she hath of her great error.

Thirdly, That her joys,380 when restored to health and favour, will be the greater, the deeper her griefs were.

Gaudia, quae multo parta labore, placent.

Fourthly, That having really been guilty of a great error, she should not take impatiently the correction and anger with which she hath been treated.

Leniter, ex merito quicquid patiare ferundum est.

Fifthly, That virtue must be established by patience; as saith Prudentius:

Haec virtus vidua est, quam non patientia firmat.

Sixthly, That in the words of Horace, she may expect better times, than (of late) she had reason to look for.

Grata superveniet, quae non sperabitur, hora.

Seventhly, That she is really now in a way to be happy, since, according to Ovid, she can count up all her woe:

Felix, qui patitur quae numerare potest.

And those comforting lines,

Estque serena dies post longos gratior imbres,
Et post triste malum gratior ipsa salus.

Eighthly, That, in the words of Mantuan, her parents and uncles could not help loving her all the time they were angry at her:

Aequa tamen mens est, & amica voluntas,
Sit licet in natos austere parentum.

Ninthly, That the ills she hath met with may be turned (by the good use to be made of them) to her everlasting benefit; for that,

Cum furit atque ferit, Deus olim parcere quaerit.

Tenthly, That she will be able to give a fine lesson (a very fine lesson) to all the young ladies of her acquaintance, of the vanity of being lifted up in prosperity, and the weakness of being cast down in adversity; since no one is so high, as to be above being humbled; so low, as to need to despair: for which purpose the advice of Ausonius,

Dum fortuna juvat, caveto tolli:
Dum fortuna tonat, caveto mergi.

I shall tell her, that Lucan saith well, when he calleth adversity the element of patience;

—Gaudet