Part 2 (1/2)
Had not _Clarissa_ seen _Lovelace_, said Miss _Gibson_, her Triumph could never have been so compleat; and as I think the Impossibility of her Escape at that time, from Mrs. _Sinclair's_, is very apparent, had she not sought him, the true Lovers of _Clarissa_ must have mourned the Loss of seeing her Behaviour in such an uncommon Situation.
_Bellario_ gave these Sentiments a Sanction by his Approbation, and the rest of the Company either concurr'd with his Opinion, or at least did not contradict him; and the next Day Miss _Gibson_ received the following Letter from _Bellario_.
~_MADAM_~,
You seem'd so pleased last Night with my Conversion, if I may be allowed the Expression, to your Favourite _Clarissa_, that I could not seek any Repose till I had thrown together my Thoughts on that Head, in order to address them to you; nor am I ashamed to confess, that the Author's Design is more n.o.ble, and his Execution of it much happier, than I even suspected till I had seen the whole.
In a Series of familiar Letters to relate a compleat Story, where there is such a Variety of Characters, every one conducing to the forming the necessary Incidents to the Completion of that Story, is a Method so intirely new, so much an Original manner of Writing, that the Author seems to have a Right to make his own Laws; the painting Nature is indeed his Aim, but the Vehicle by which he conveys his lively Portraits to the Mind is so much his own Invention, that he may guide and direct it according to his own Will and Pleasure. _Aristotle_ drew his Rules of Epic Poetry from _Homer_, and not _Homer_ from _Aristotle_; tho' had they been Cotemporaries, perhaps that had been a Point much disputed.
As to the Length of the Story, I fancy that Complaint arises from the great Earnestness the Characters inspire the Reader with to know the Event; and on a second Reading may vanish. _Clarissa_ is not intended as a Dramatic, but as a real Picture of human Life, where Story can move but slowly, where the Characters must open by degrees, and the Reader's own Judgment form them from different Parts, as they display themselves according to the Incidents that arise. As for Example; the Behaviour of _Lovelace_ to his Rosebud must strike every one, at first View, with Admiration and Esteem for him; but when his Character comes to blaze in its full Light, it is very apparent that his Pride preserved his Rosebud, as well as it destroyed _Clarissa_; like _Milton's Satan_, he could for a Time cloath himself like an Angel of Light, even to the Deception of _Uriel_.
_For neither Man, nor Angel can discern Hypocrisie; the only Evil that walks Invisible, except to G.o.d alone, By his permissive Will, through Heaven and Earth: And oft, though Wisdom wake, Suspicion sleeps At Wisdom's Gate, and to Simplicity Resigns her Charge; while Goodness thinks no ill Where no Ill seems; which now, for once, beguiled_ Uriel, _though Regent of the Sun, and held The sharpest-sighted Spirit of all in Heaven._
Proud Spirits, such as _Satan's_ and _Lovelace's_, require Objects of their Envy, as Food for their Malice, to compleat their Triumph and applaud their own Wickedness. From this Incident of the Rosebud, and the subsequent Behaviour of _Lovelace_, arises a Moral which can never be too often inculcated; namely, that Pride has the Art of putting on the Mask of Virtue in so many Forms, that we must judge of a Man upon the whole, and not from any one single Action.
A celebrated _French_ Critick says, that
'An indifferent Wit may form a vast Design in his Imagination; but it must be an EXTRAORDINARY GENIUS that can work his Design, and fas.h.i.+on it according to Justness and Proportion: For 'tis necessary that the same Spirit _reign throughout_; that all contribute to the same _End_; and that all the _Parts_ bear a secret _Relation_ to each other; all depend on this Relation and Alliance.'
Let the nicest Critick examine the Story of _Clarissa_, and see if in any Point it fails of coming up exactly to the before-mentioned Rule.
The Author had all Nature before him, and he has beautifully made use of every Labyrinth, in the several Minds of his Characters, to lead him to his purposed End.
The Obstinacy of old _Harlowe_, who never gave up a Point, unaccustomed to Contradiction, and mad with the Thoughts of his own Authority; the Pride of the two old Batchelors, who had lived single, in order to aggrandize their Family; the overbearing impetuous _James Harlowe's_ Envy, arising from Ambition; the two-fold Envy of _Arabella Harlowe_, springing from Rivals.h.i.+p in general Admiration, as well as in particular liking; the former more rough, the latter more sly, tho' full as keen in her Reproaches; the constant Submission of Mrs. _Harlowe_, and the mad Vanity of _Lovelace_, all conspire to the grand End of distressing and destroying the poor _Clarissa_; whose Misfortune it was to be placed amongst a Set of Wretches, who were every one following the Bent of their own peculiar Madness, without any Consideration for the innocent Victim who was to fall a Sacrifice to their ungovernable Pa.s.sions. And here I must observe, how artfully the Author has conducted the opening of his different Characters, as they became more interested in his Story. The Correspondence between Miss _Howe_ and _Clarissa_, with some characteristical Letters of each of the _Harlowes_, as these were then his princ.i.p.al Actors, chiefly compose the two first Volumes.
In the third, fourth and fifth Volumes, _Lovelace_ comes prancing before the Reader's Eye; gives an unrestrained Loose to his uncurbed Imagination, and ripens into full-blown Baseness that Blackness of Mind, which had hitherto only shot forth in Buds but barely visible. The strong and lively Pen of _Lovelace_ was most proper to relate the most active Scenes. But when his mischievous Heart and plotting Head had left him no farther use for his wild Fancies, than to rave and curse his own Folly, _Belford_ takes up the Pen, and carries on the Story; and in the sixth and seventh Volumes, Colonel _Morden_ (who has. .h.i.therto made but a small Appearance) is brought upon the Stage, and his Character, as he is to be the Instrument of the Death of _Lovelace_, is as strongly painted, and as necessary to the Completion of the Story, as are any of the others. It is astonis.h.i.+ng to me how much the different Stile of each Writer is in every Particular preserved; indeed so characteristically preserved, that when I read _Clarissa's_ Letters, where every Line speaks the considerate and the pious Mind, I could almost think the Author had studied nothing but her Character. When Miss _Howe's_ lively Vein and flowing Wit entertains me, She appears to have been the princ.i.p.al Person in his Thoughts. When Mrs. _Harlowe_ writes, her broken half-utter'd Sentences are so many Pictures of the broken timorous Spirit of Meekness tyrannised over, that dictates to her Pen. When Mr.
_Harlowe_ condescends to sign his much valued Name, the dictatorial Spirit of an indulged tyrannic Disposition indites every arbitrary Command. When _John Harlowe_ writes, the Desire of proving himself of Consequence from his Fortune, and being infected with the Idea of his Niece's Disobedience, (a Word which continually resounded through his Family) plainly appear to be the only two Causes that make him insist on her Compliance. In _Anthony Harlowe's_ Roughness and Reproaches, 'The Sea prosper'd Gentleman, (as _Clarissa_ says) not used to any but elemental Controul, and even ready to buffet that, bl.u.s.ters as violently as the Winds he was accustomed to be angry at.' In _James Harlowe's_ Letters, we see how the Mind infected with the complicated Distemper of Envy, Insolence and Malice, can blot the fair Paper, and poison it with its Venom. In _Arabella Harlowe_, the sly Insinuations of feminine Envy break forth in every taunting Word, and she could ”speak Daggers, tho'
she dared not use them.” But, to imitate our Author, in turning suddenly from this detestable Picture, how does every Line of the good Mrs.
_Norton_ shew us a Mind inured to, and patiently submitting to Adversity, looking on Contempt as the unavoidable Consequence of Poverty, and fixed in a firm and pious Resolution of going through all the Vicissitudes of this transitory Life without repining.
Nor does the Author fail more in the preserving the characteristical Difference of Stile in the Writings of _Mowbray_, _Belford_ and _Lovelace_.
_Mowbray_, tho' he writes but two Letters in the whole, yet do those two so strongly fix his Character, that every Reader may see of what Consequence he made himself to Society; namely, to act the bl.u.s.tring Part in a Club of Rakes, to fill a Seat at the Table, and a.s.sist in keeping up the Roar and Noise necessary to make the Life of such a.s.semblies.
Mr. _Belford's_ Letters prove, that he acts the second Part under Mr.
_Lovelace_; he follows the Paths the other beats through the th.o.r.n.y Labyrinths of wild Libertinism; he has not the lively Humour of _Lovelace_, altho' in Understanding I think he has rather the Advantage; and his not being quite so lively, is owing to his not giving such a loose to every unbridled Fancy; but he has less Pride, and consequently more Humanity: this appears in the many Arguments he makes use of to his Friend in favour of _Clarissa_; but these Arguments, as they are only the Produce of sudden Starts of Compa.s.sion, and have no fixed Principle for their Basis, could have no Weight with _Lovelace_; and the fluctuating of a Mind sometimes intruded upon by the Force of Good-nature, and then again actuated by the Principles of Libertinism, is finely set before us by _Belford's_ Writings. And as there is a great Beauty throughout the whole of _Clarissa_, in the specific Difference of Stile preserved by every Writer, so is there an inimitable Beauty in _Belford_ differing from himself, when he changes the State of his Mind; his Stile accompanies that Change, and he appears another Man. He was always more of the true Gentleman in his Stile than _Lovelace_, because his Will was not enough overbearing to break through all Bounds; but when his Mind is softned by the many different Deaths he is witness of, and he becomes animated by _Clarissa's_ Example to think in earned of reforming his Life, the Gentleman and the Christian increase together, till he becomes at once the Executor of _Clarissa's_ Will, and, if I may be allowed the Expression, the Heir to her Principles.
In _Lovelace's_ Stile, his Humour, his Parts, his Pride, his wild Desire of throwing Difficulties in his own way, in order to conquer them, and exercise his own intriguing Spirit, break forth in every Line. His impetuous Will, unrestrained from his Infancy, as he himself complains, by his Mother, and long accustomed to bear down all before it, destroys the Gentleman, and equally every other amiable Qualification: For tho' a Knowledge of the Customs of the World may make a Man in Company, where he stays but a little while, appear polite; yet when that Man indulges himself in gratifying continually his own wild Humour, those who are intimate with him, must often have Cause to complain of his Unpoliteness; as _Clarissa_ does of _Lovelace_. And by such Complaints of _Clarissa_, I think it is very apparent, that the Author designed _Lovelace_ should be unpolite, notwithstanding his Station, in order to prove that indulged overbearing Pa.s.sions will trample under Foot every Bar that would stop them in their raging Course. But now I am upon the Subject of the different Stiles in _Clarissa_, I must observe how strictly the Author has kept up in all the Writings of his Rakes to what he says of _Lovelace_ in his Preface.
'That they preserve a Decency, as well in their Images, as in their 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.'
The various Stiles adapted to the many different Characters in _Clarissa_ make so great a Variety, as would, it attended to, in a great Measure, answer any Objection that might otherwise fairly be raised to the Length of the Story.
There is one Thing has almost astonished me in the Criticisms I have heard on _Clarissa's_ Character; namely, that they are in a Manner a Counterpart to the Reproaches cast on her in her Lifetime.
She has been called perverse and obstinate by many of her Readers; _James Harlowe_ called her so before them. Some say she was romantic; so said _Bella_; disobedient; all the _Harlowes_ agree in that; a Prude; so said _Salley Martin_; had a Mind incapable of Love; Mr. _Lovelace's_ Accusation; for he must found his Brutality on some Shadow of a Pretence, tho' he confesses at last it was but a Shadow, for that he knew the contrary the whole Time. Others say, she was artful and cunning, had the Talent only to move the Pa.s.sions; the haughty Brother and spiteful Sister's Plea to banish her from her Parents Presence. I verily think I have not heard _Clarissa_ condemned for any one Fault, but the Author has made some of the _Harlowes_, or some of Mrs.
_Sinclair's_ Family accuse her of it before.