Letter 9: MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE TO MISS HOWE [Commentary]
Feb. 26, in the morning
MY aunt, who stayed here last night, made me a visit this morning as soon as it was light. She tells me that I was left alone with my papa yesterday on purpose that he might talk with me on my expected obedience, but that he owned he was put beside his purpose by reflecting on something my brother had told him in my disfavour, and by his impatience but to suppose that such a gentle spirit as mine had hitherto seemed to be should presume to dispute his will in a point where the advantage of the whole family was to be so greatly promoted by my compliance.
I find, by a few words which dropped unawares, that they have all an absolute dependence upon what they suppose to be a meekness in my temper. But in this they may be mistaken, for I verily think upon a strict examination of myself that I have almost as much in me of my father's as of my mother's family.
My uncle Harlowe, it seems, is against driving me upon extremities; but his unbrotherly nephew has engaged that the regard I have for my reputation and my principles will bring me round to my duty; that's the expression. Perhaps I shall have reason to wish I had not known this.
My aunt advises me to submit for the present to the interdicts they have laid me under; and indeed to encourage Mr. Solmes's address. I have absolutely refused the latter, let what will as I have told her be the consequence. The visiting prohibition I will conform to. But as to that of not corresponding with you, nothing but the menace that our letters shall be intercepted can engage my observation of it.
She believes that this order is from my father without consulting my mother upon it; and that purely, as she supposes, in consideration to me lest I should mortally offend him; and this from the incitements of other people (meaning you and Miss Lloyd, I make no doubt) rather than by my own will. For still, as she tells me, he speaks kind and praiseful things of me.
Here is clemency! Here is indulgence!--and so it is, to prevent a headstrong child, as a good prince would wish to deter disaffected subjects, from running into rebellion, and so forfeiting every thing! But this is all my brother’s young-man's wisdom; a plotter without a head, and a brother without a heart!
How happy might I have been with any other brother in the world but Mr. James [end page 65] Harlowe; and with any other sister but his sister! Wonder not, my dear! that I, who used to chide you for these sort of liberties with my relations, now am more undutiful than you ever were unkind. I cannot bear the thought of being deprived of the principal pleasure of my life, for such is your conversation by person and by letter. And who besides can bear to be made the dupe of such low cunning, operating with such high and arrogant passions?
But can you, my dear Miss Howe, condescend to carry on a private correspondence with me? If you can, there is one way I have thought of by which it may be done.
You must remember the Green Lane, as we call it, that runs by the side of the wood-house and poultry-yard where I keep my bantams, pheasants, and pea-hens, which generally engage my notice twice a day, the more my favourites because they were my grandfather's, and recommended to my care by him, and therefore brought hither from my dairy-house, since his death.
The lane is lower than the floor of the wood-house, and in the side of the wood-house the boards are rotted away down to the floor for half an ell together in several places. Hannah can step into the lane, and make a mark with chalk where a letter or parcel may be pushed in under some sticks, which may be so managed as to be an unsuspected cover for the written deposits from either.
I HAVE been just now to look at the place and find it will answer. So your faithful Robert may, without coming near the house, and as only passing through the green lane which leads to two or three farmhouses (out of livery, if you please), very easily take from thence my letters and deposit yours.
This place is the more convenient because it is seldom resorted to but by myself or Hannah on the above-mentioned account, for it is the general store-house for firing, the wood for constant use being nearer the house.
One corner of this being separated off for the roosting-place of my little poultry, either she or I shall never want a pretence to go thither.
Try, my dear, the success of a letter this way; and give me your opinion and advice what to do in this disgraceful situation, as I cannot but call it, and what you think of my prospects, and what you would do in my case.
But beforehand I must tell you, that your advice must not run in favour of this Solmes; and yet it is very likely they will endeavour to engage your mamma, in order to induce you, who have such an influence over me, to favour him.
Yet, on second thoughts, if you incline to that side of the question, I would have you write your whole mind. Determined as I think I am, and cannot help it, I would at least give a patient hearing to what may be said on the other side. For my regards are not so much engaged (upon my word they are not; I know not myself if they be) to another person, as some of my friends suppose; and as you, giving way to your lively vein, upon his last visits, affected to suppose. What preferable favour I may have for him to any other person, is owing more to the usage he has received, and for my sake borne, than to any personal consideration.
I write a few lines of grateful acknowledgement to your mamma for her favours to me in the late happy period. I fear I shall never know such another!--I hope she will forgive me that I did not write sooner.
The bearer if suspected and examined is to produce that, as the only one he carries. How do needless watchfulness and undue restraint produce artifice and [end page 66] contrivance! I should abhor these clandestine correspondences, were they not forced upon me. They have so mean, so low an appearance to myself, that I think I ought not to expect that you should take part in them.
But why (as I have also expostulated with my aunt) must I be pushed into a state which although I reverence, I have no wish to enter into?--Why should not my brother, so many years older and so earnest to see me engaged, be first engaged?—and if not so, why not my sister be first provided for?
But here I conclude these unavailing expostulations with the assurance that I am, and ever will be,
Your affectionate
CLARISSA HARLOWE.