Clarissa.
Volume 1.
by Samuel Richardson.
PREFACE
The following History is given in a series of letters, written Princ.i.p.ally in a double yet separate correspondence;
Between two young ladies of virtue and honor, bearing an inviolable friendship for each other, and writing not merely for amus.e.m.e.nt, but upon the most interesting subjects; in which every private family, more or less, may find itself concerned; and,
Between two gentlemen of free lives; one of them glorying in his talents for stratagem and invention, and communicating to the other, in confidence, all the secret purposes of an intriguing head and resolute heart.
But here it will be proper to observe, for the sake of such as may apprehend hurt to the morals of youth, from the more freely-written letters, that the gentlemen, though professed libertines as to the female s.e.x, and making it one of their wicked maxims, to keep no faith with any of the individuals of it, who are thrown into their power, are not, however, either infidels or scoffers; nor yet such as think themselves freed from the observance of those other moral duties which bind man to man.
On the contrary, it will be found, in the progress of the work, that they very often make such reflections upon each other, and each upon himself and his own actions, as reasonable beings must make, who disbelieve not a future state of rewards and punishments, and who one day propose to reform--one of them actually reforming, and by that means giving an opportunity to censure the freedoms which fall from the gayer pen and lighter heart of the other.
And yet that other, although in unbosoming himself to a select friend, he discover wickedness enough to ent.i.tle him to general detestation, preserves a decency, as well in his images as in his language, which is not always to be found in the works of some of the most celebrated modern writers, whose subjects and characters have less warranted the liberties they have taken.
In the letters of the two young ladies, it is presumed, will be found not only the highest exercise of a reasonable and practicable friendship, between minds endowed with the n.o.blest principles of virtue and religion, but occasionally interspersed, such delicacy of sentiments, particularly with regard to the other s.e.x; such instances of impartiality, each freely, as a fundamental principle of their friendship, blaming, praising, and setting right the other, as are strongly to be recommended to the observation of the younger part (more specially) of female readers.
The principle of these two young ladies is proposed as an exemplar to her s.e.x. Nor is it any objection to her being so, that she is not in all respects a perfect character. It was not only natural, but it was necessary, that she should have some faults, were it only to show the reader how laudably she could mistrust and blame herself, and carry to her own heart, divested of self-partiality, the censure which arose from her own convictions, and that even to the acquittal of those, because revered characters, whom no one else would acquit, and to whose much greater faults her errors were owing, and not to a weak or reproachable heart. As far as it is consistent with human frailty, and as far as she could be perfect, considering the people she had to deal with, and those with whom she was inseparably connected, she is perfect. To have been impeccable, must have left nothing for the Divine Grace and a purified state to do, and carried our idea of her from woman to angel. As such is she often esteemed by the man whose heart was so corrupt that he could hardly believe human nature capable of the purity, which, on every trial or temptation, shone out in her"s [sic].
Besides the four princ.i.p.al person, several others are introduced, whose letters are characteristic: and it is presumed that there will be found in some of them, but more especially in those of the chief character among the men, and the second character among the women, such strokes of gayety, fancy, and humour, as will entertain and divert, and at the same time both warn and instruct.
All the letters are written while the hearts of the writers must be supposed to be wholly engaged in their subjects (the events at the time generally dubious): so that they abound not only in critical situations, but with what may be called instantaneous descriptions and reflections (proper to be brought home to the breast of the youthful reader;) as also with affecting conversations; many of them written in the dialogue or dramatic way.
"Much more lively and affecting," says one of the princ.i.p.al character, "must be the style of those who write in the height of a present distress; the mind tortured by the pangs of uncertainty (the events then hidden in the womb of fate;) than the dry, narrative, unanimated style of a person relating difficulties and danger surmounted, can be; the relater perfectly at ease; and if himself unmoved by his own story, not likely greatly to affect the reader."
What will be found to be more particularly aimed at in the following work is--to warn the inconsiderate and thoughtless of the one s.e.x, against the base arts and designs of specious contrivers of the other--to caution parents against the undue exercise of their natural authority over their children in the great article of marriage--to warn children against preferring a man of pleasure to a man of probity upon that dangerous but too-commonly-received notion, that a reformed rake makes the best husband--but above all, to investigate the highest and most important doctrines not only of morality, but of christianity, by showing them thrown into action in the conduct of the worthy characters; while the unworthy, who set those doctrines at defiance, are condignly, and, as may be said, consequentially punished.
From what has been said, considerate readers will not enter upon the perusal of the piece before them as if it were designed only to divert and amuse. It will probably be thought tedious to all such as dip into it, expecting a light novel, or transitory romance; and look upon story in it (interesting as that is generally allowed to be) as its sole end, rather than as a vehicle to the instruction.
Different persons, as might be expected, have been of different opinions, in relation to the conduct of the Heroine in particular situations; and several worthy persons have objected to the general catastrophe, and other parts of the history. Whatever is thought material of these shall be taken notice of by way of Postscript, at the conclusion of the History; for this work being addressed to the public as a history of life and manners, those parts of it which are proposed to carry with them the force of an example, ought to be as un.o.bjectionable as is consistent with the design of the whole, and with human nature.
NAMES OF THE PRINc.i.p.aL PERSONS
MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, a young lady of great beauty and merit.
ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ. her admirer.
JAMES HARLOWE, ESQ. father of Clarissa.
MRS. HARLOWE, his lady.
JAMES HARLOWE, their only son.
ARABELLA, their elder daughter.
JOHN HARLOWE, ESQ. elder brother of James Harlowe, sen.
ANTONY HARLOWE, third brother.
ROGER SOLMES, ESQ. an admirer of Clarissa, favoured by her friends.
MRS. HERVEY, half-sister of Mrs. Harlowe.
MISS DOLLY HERVEY, her daughter.
MRS. JUDITH NORTON, a woman of great piety and discretion, who had a princ.i.p.al share in the education of Clarissa.
COL. WM. MORDEN, a near relation of the Harlowes.
MISS HOWE, the most intimate friend, companion, and correspondent of Clarissa.
MRS. HOWE, her mother.
CHARLES HICKMAN, ESQ. an admirer of Miss Howe.
LORD M., uncle to Mr. Lovelace.
LADY SARAH SADLEIR, LADY BETTY LAWRANCE, half-sisters of Lord M.
MISS CHARLOTTE MONTAGUE, MISS PATTY MONTAGUE, nieces of the same n.o.bleman.
DR. LEWEN, a worthy divine.
MR. ELIAS BRAND, a pedantic young clergyman.
DR. H. a humane physician.
MR. G.o.dDARD, an honest and skilful apothecary.
JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. Mr. Lovelace"s princ.i.p.al intimate and confidant.
RICHARD MOWBRAY, THOMAS DOLEMAN, JAMES TOURVILLE, THOMAS BELTON, ESQRS. libertine friends of Mr. Lovelace.
MRS. MOORE, a widow, keeping a lodging-house at Hampstead.
MISS RAWLINS, a notable young gentlewoman there.
MRS. BEVIS, a lively young widow of the same place.
MRS. SINCLAIR, the pretended name of a private brothel-keeper in London.
CAPTAIN TOMLINSON, the a.s.sumed name of a vile pander to the debaucheries of Mr. Lovelace.
SALLY MARTIN, POLLY HORTON, a.s.sistants of, and partners with, the infamous Sinclair.
DORCAS WYKES, an artful servant at the vile house.
THE HISTORY OF CLARISSA HARLOWE
LETTER I
MISS ANNA HOWE, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE JAN 10.
I am extremely concerned, my dearest friend, for the disturbance that have happened in your family. I know how it must hurt you to become the subject of the public talk: and yet, upon an occasion so generally known, it is impossible but that whatever relates to a young lady, whose distinguished merits have made her the public care, should engage every body"s attention. I long to have the particulars from yourself; and of the usage I am told you receive upon an accident you could not help; and in which, as far as I can learn, the sufferer was the aggressor.
Mr. Diggs, the surgeon, whom I sent for at the first hearing of the rencounter, to inquire, for your sake, how your brother was, told me, that there was no danger from the wound, if there were none from the fever; which it seems has been increased by the perturbation of his spirits.
Mr. Wyerley drank tea with us yesterday; and though he is far from being partial to Mr. Lovelace, as it may well be supposed, yet both he and Mr.
Symmes blame your family for the treatment they gave him when he went in person to inquire after your brother"s health, and to express his concern for what had happened.
They say, that Mr. Lovelace could not avoid drawing his sword: and that either your brother"s unskilfulness or pa.s.sion left him from the very first pa.s.s entirely in his power.
This, I am told, was what Mr. Lovelace said upon it; retreating as he spoke: "Have a care, Mr. Harlowe--your violence puts you out of your defence. You give me too much advantage. For your sister"s sake, I will pa.s.s by every thing:--if--"
But this the more provoked his rashness, to lay himself open to the advantage of his adversary--who, after a slight wound given him in the arm, took away his sword.