And what! (methinks thou askest with surprise) Dost thou question this most admirable of women?—The virtue of a CLARISSA dost thou question?
I do not, I dare not question it. My reverence for her will not let me directly question it. But let me, in my turn, ask thee—Is not, may not her virtue be founded rather in pride than in principle? Whose daughter is she?—And is she not a daughter? If impeccable, how came she by her impeccability? The pride of setting an example to her sex has run away with her hitherto, and may have made her till now invincible. But is not that pride abated? What may not both men and women be brought to do in a mortified state? What mind is superior to calamity? Pride is perhaps the principal bulwark of female virtue. Humble a woman, and may she not be effectually humbled?
Then who says Miss Clarissa Harlowe is the paragon of virtue?—Is virtue itself?
All who know her, and have heard of her, it will be answered.
Common bruit!—Is virtue to be established by common bruit only?—Has her virtue ever been proved?—Who has dared to try her virtue?
I told thee, I would sit down to argue with myself; and I have drawn myself into argumentation before I was aware.
Let me enter into a strict discussion of this subject.
I know how ungenerous an appearance what I have said, and what I have further to say, on this topic, will have from me: But am I not bringing virtue to the touchstone, with a view to exalt it, if it come out to be proof?—'Avaunt then, for one moment, all consideration that may arise from a weakness which some would miscall gratitude; and is oftentimes the corrupter of a heart most ignoble!'
To the test then—and I will bring this charming creature to the strictest test, 'that all the sex, who may be shewn any passages in my letters,' [and I know thou cheerest the hearts of all thy acquaintance with such detached parts of mine as tend not to dishonour characters or reveal names: and this gives me an appetite to oblige thee by interlardment,] 'that all the sex, I say, may see what they ought to be; what is expected from them; and if they have to deal with a person of reflection and punctilio, [of pride, if thou wilt,] how careful they ought to be, by a regular and uniform conduct, not to give him cause to think lightly of them for favours granted, which may be interpreted into natural weakness. For is not a wife the keeper of a man's honour? And do not her faults bring more disgrace upon a husband than even upon herself?'
It is not for nothing, Jack, that I have disliked the life of shackles.