He most severely censures himself for his false notions of honour to his
friend, on this head; and recollects what the divine lady, as he
calls her, said to him on this very subject, as related by himself
in his letter to Lovelace No. XXI. Vol. VII., to which Lovelace
also (both instigator and accuser) refers, and to his own regret
and shame on the occasion. He distinguishes, however, between an
irreparable injury intended to a CLARISSA, and one designed to such
of the sex, as contribute by their weakness and indiscretion to
their own fall, and thereby entitle themselves to a large share of
the guilt which accompanies the crime.
He offers not, he says, to palliate or extenuate the crimes he himself
has been guilty of: but laments, for Mr. Lovelace's own sake, that
he gives him, with so ludicrous and unconcerned an air, such solemn
and useful lessons and warnings. Nevertheless, he resolves to make
it his whole endeavour, he tells him, to render them efficacious to
himself: and should think himself but too happy, if he shall be
enabled to set him such an example as may be a mean to bring about
the reformation of a man so dear to him as he has always been, from
the first of their acquaintance; and who is capable of thinking so
rightly and deeply; though at present to such little purpose, as
make his very knowledge add to his condemnation.
LETTER XLIII
MR. BELFORD, TO COLONEL MORDEN THURSDAY, SEPT. 21.
Give me leave, dear Sir, to address myself to you in a very serious and solemn manner, on a subject that I must not, cannot, dispense with; as I promised the divine lady that I would do every thing in my power to prevent that further mischief of which she was so very apprehensive.
I will not content myself with distant hints. It is with very great concern that I have just now heard of a declaration which you are said to have made to your relations at Harlowe-place, that you will not rest till you have avenged your cousin's wrongs upon Mr. Lovelace.
Far be it from me to offer to defend the unhappy man, or even unduly to extenuate his crime! But yet I must say, that the family, by their persecutions of the dear lady at first, and by their implacableness afterwards, ought, at least, to share the blame with him. There is even great reason to believe, that a lady of such a religious turn, her virtue neither to be surprised nor corrupted, her will inviolate, would have got over a mere personal injury; especially as he would have done all that was in his power to repair it; and as, from the application of all his family in his favour, and other circumstances attending his sincere and voluntary offer, the lady might have condescended, with greater glory to herself, than if he had never offended.
When I have the pleasure of seeing you next, I will acquaint you, Sir, with all the circumstances of this melancholy story; from which you will see that Mr. Lovelace was extremely ill treated at first, by the whole family, this admirable lady excepted. This exception, I know, heightens his crime: but as his principal intention was but to try her virtue; and that he became so earnest a suppliant to her for marriage; and as he has suffered so deplorably in the loss of his reason, for not having it in his power to repair her wrongs; I presume to hope that much is to be pleaded against such a resolution as you are said to have made. I will read to you, at the same time, some passages from letters of his; two of which (one but this moment received) will convince you that the unhappy man, who is but now recovering his intellects, needs no greater punishment than what he has from his own reflections.
I have just now read over the copies of the dear lady's posthumous letters. I send them all to you, except that directed for Mr. Lovelace; which I reserve till I have the pleasure of seeing you. Let me entreat you to read once more that written to yourself; and that to her brother;* which latter I now send you; as they are in point to the present subject.