your

ill offices to keep up a variance between a man and his wife-and so taking the letter from your messenger

as me.

Miss Rawlins takes pains to excuse Mrs. Bevis's intention. She expresses their astonishment, and concern at what I communicate but is glad, however, and so they are all, that they know in time the vileness of the base man; the two widows and herself having, at his earnest invitation, designed me a visit at Mrs. Sinclair's: supposing all to be happy between him and me; as he 'assured them was the case. Mr. Lovelace, she informs 6 me, had handsomely satisfied Mrs. Moore. And Miss Rawlins concludes with wishing to be favoured with the 'particulars of so extraordinary a story, as these parti. culars may be of use, to let her see what wicked creatures (women as well as men) there are in the world.' I thank you, my dear, for the draughts of your two letters which were intercepted by this horrid man. the great advantage they were of to him, in the prosecution of his villanous designs against the poor wretch whom he has so long made the sport of his abhorred inventions.

I see

Let me repeat, that I am quite sick of life; and of an earth, in which innocent and benevolent spirits are sure to be considered as aliens, and to be made sufferers by the genuine sons and daughters of that earth.

How unhappy, that those letters only which could have acquainted me with his horrid views, and arined me against them, and against the vileness of the base women, should fall into his hands!-Unhappier still, in that my very escape to Hampstead gave him the opportunity of receiving

them.

Nevertheless, I cannot but still wonder, how it was pos

sible for that Tomlinson to know what passed between Mr. Hickman and my uncle Harlowe *: a circumstance which gave the vile impostor most of his credit with me.

How the wicked wretch himself could find me out at Hampstead, must also remain wholly a mystery to me. He may glory in his contrivances-he, who has more wickedness than wit, may glory in his contrivances !— But, after all, I shall, I humbly presume to hope, be happy, when he, poor wretch, will be-alas!-who can say what!

Adieu, my dearest friend !-May you be happy!-And then your Clarissa cannot be wholly miserable!

LETTER LI.

MISS HOWE, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE.

Wed. Night, July 12.

I WRITE, my dearest creature, I cannot but write, to express my concern on your dejection. Let me beseech you, my charming excellence, let me beseech you, not to give way to it.

Comfort yourself, on the contrary, in the triumphs of Who could a virtue unsullied; a will wholly faultless. have withstood the trials that you have surmounted?Your cousin Morden will soon come. He will see justice done you, I make no doubt, as well with regard to what concerns your person as your estate. And many happy days may you yet see; and much good may you still do,

* See the note in Letter XLVII. of this volume.

if you will not heighten unavoidable accidents into guilty despondency.

But why, my dear, this pining solicitude continued after a reconciliation with relations as unworthy as implacable; whose wills are governed by an all-grasping brother, who finds his account in keeping the breach open? On this oversolicitude it is now plain to me, that the vilest of men built all his schemes. He saw that you thirsted after it beyond all reason for hope. The view, the hope, I own, extremely desirable, had your family been Chris. tians: or even had they been Pagans who had had bowels.

I shall send this short letter [I am obliged to make it a short one] by young Rogers, as we call him; the fellow I sent to you to Hampstead; an innocent, though prag. matical rustic. Admit him, I pray you, into your pre. sence, that he may report to me how you look, and how

you are.

Mr. Hickman should attend you; but I apprehend, that all his motions, and mine own too, are watched by the ex. ecrable wretch: and indeed his are by an agent of mine; for I own, that I am so apprehensive of his plots and revenge, now I know that he has intercepted my vehement letters against him, that he is the subject of my dreams, as well as of my waking fears.

My mother, at my earnest importunity, has just given me leave to write, and to receive your letters-but fastened this condition upon the concession, that your's must be under cover to Mr. Hickman, [this with a view, I suppose, to give him consideration with me]; and upon this further condition, that she is to see all we write. When girls

are set upon a point,' she told one who told me again, it is better for a mother, if possible, to make herself

' of their party, than to oppose them; since there will 'be then hopes that she will still hold the reins in her own 'hands.'

Pray let me know what the people are with whom you lodge?—Shall I send Mrs. Townsend to direct you to lodgings either more safe or more convenient for you ? Be pleased to write to me by Rogers; who will wait on you for your answer, at your own time.

Adieu, my dearest creature. Comfort yourself, as you would in the like unhappy circumstances comfort

Your own

ANNA HOWE.

I

LETTER LII.

MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE.

Thursday, July 13.

AM extremely concerned, my dear Miss Howe, for being primarily the occasion of the apprehensions you have of this wicked man's vindictive attempts. What a widespreading error is mine!

If I find that he sets on foot any machination against you, or against Mr. Hickman, I do assure you I will consent to prosecute him, although I were sure I should not survive my first appearance at the bar he should be arraigned at.

I own the justice of your mother's arguments on that subject; but must say, that I think there are circumstan. ces in my particular case, which will excuse me, although on a slighter occasion than that you are apprehensive of I

should decline to appear against him. I have said, that I may one day enter more particularly into this argument.

Your messenger has now indeed seen me. I talked with him on the cheat put upon him at Hampstead: and am sorry to have reason to say, that had not the poor young man been very simple, and very self-sufficient, he had not been so grossly deluded. Mrs. Bevis has the same plea to make for herself. A good-natured, thoughtless woman; not used to converse with so vile and so specious a deceiver as him, who made his advantage of both these shallow creatures.

I think I cannot be more private than where I am. I hope I am safe. All the risque I run, is in going out, and returning from morning-prayers; which I have two or three times ventured to do; once at Lincoln's-inn chapel, at eleven; once at St. Dunstan's, Fleet- street, at seven in the morning*, in a chair both times; and twice, at six in the morning, at the neighbouring church in Covent-gar. den. The wicked wretches I have escaped from, will not, I hope, come to church to look for me; especially at so early prayers; and I have fixed upon the privatest pew in the latter church to hide myself in; and perhaps I may lay out a little matter in an ordinary gown, by way of disguise; my face half hid by my mob.-I am very careless, my dear, of my appearance now. Neat and clean takes up the whole of my attention.

The man's name at whose house I lodge, is Smith-a glove maker, as well as seller. His wife is the shop. keeper. A dealer also in stockings, ribbands, snuff, and

The seven-o'clock prayers at St. Dunstan's have been since dis continued.