Chapter 2

Others, likewise gave _their_ Opinions. But no Two being of the same
Mind, as to the Parts which could be omitted, it was resolved to present
to the World, the Two First Volumes, by way of Specimen: and to be
determined with regard to the rest by the Reception those should meet
with.

If that be favourable, Two others may soon follow; the whole Collection
being ready for the Press: That is to say, If it be not found necessary
to abstract or omit some of the Letters, in order to reduce the Bulk of
the Whole.

Thus much in general. But it may not be amiss to add, in particular,
that in the great Variety of Subjects which this Collection contains it
is one of the principal Views of the Publication,

To caution Parents against the _undue_ Exertion of their natural
Authority over their Children, in the great Article of Marriage:

And 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 as the Characters will not all appear in the Two First Volumes, it
has been thought advisable, in order to give the Reader some further
Idea of Them, and of the Work, to prefix

_HINTS OF PREFACES FOR CLARISSA_

HINTS OF PREFACES FOR CLARISSA

[1]

Prefatical Hints. Partly taken from Letters to the Warrington Lady,
Letter VI.

As Religion is too often wounded thro' the sides of its Professors,
whether all good Men or not; so is Virtue, where Women are thought too
meanly of, and depretiated. The Author of the following Work, being
convinced of the Truth of this Observation, has endeavoured in it to
exalt the Sex. He has made his Heroine pass thro' many Persecutions from
her Friends, and ardent Trials from her Lover; yet in the first to keep
her Duty in her Eye, and in the latter to be proof against the most
insidious Arts, Devices, and Machinations of a Man, who holds, as Parts
of the Rake's Credenda, these two Libertine Maxims; That no Woman can
resist _Opportunity_ and _Importunity_, especially when attacked by a
Man she loves; and, That, _when once subdued, she is always subdued_;
and who sets out with a Presumption, that in the Conquest of such a Lady
he shall triumph over the whole Sex, against which he had vowed Revenge
for having been used ill, as he thought, by one of it.

The Lady's Sufferings and Distresses are unequalled. Like pure Gold,
tried by the Fire of Affliction, she is found pure. She preserves her
Will inviolate, her Sincerity unimpeachable, her Duty to those who do
not theirs by her, intire--Is patient, serene, resigned; and, from the
best Motives, aspires to a World more worthy of her, than that she longs
to quit.

The Christian System, in short, is endeavoured in her Conduct to be
recommended and enforced. This Life she looks upon as a Life of
Probation only. She prepares for a better. Her Preparation is
exemplarily set forth, and expatiated upon. She has her perfidious Lover
for her Vindicator. He engages all his own Relations, who adore her
(while hers, influenced by wicked Reports, persecute her) to plead for
him; and that she will accept of him upon her own Terms.

Here is her Triumph. Yet not glorying in it herself; but, on reasonable
and just Motives, rejecting him; Motives, that every virtuous Heart must
approve of. Yet believing that she shall not long live, in the true
Christian Spirit of Forgiveness, wishes and prays for his Reformation.
She as nobly forgives, and prays for, and endeavours to give posthumous
Comfort to, her persecuting Relations; wounding all of them deeper by
the Generosity of her Forgiveness, than if they were to suffer the most
cruel Deaths.

While it is one of the latent Morals of this Work, that Women, in
chusing Companions for Life, should chuse companiable Men; should chuse
for Men whose Hearts would probably be all their own, rather than to
share with Scores perhaps the volatile mischievous one of a Libertine:
In short, that they should chuse for _Mind_ and not for _Person_; and
not make a Jest of a good Man, in favour of a bad, who would make a Jest
of them, and of their whole Sex. / /

[2]

"May my Story," says our Heroine, Vol. ____ p. ____ "be a Warning to all
my Sex, how they perfer a Libertine to a Man of true Honour; and how
they permit themselves, where they mean the best) [sic] to be misled by
the specious, but foolish Hope of subduing _rivetted Habits_, and, as I
may say, of _altering Natures_. The more foolish, as Experience might
convince us, that there is hardly one in ten, of even tolerably happy
Marriages, in which the Wife keeps the Hold in the Husband's Affections,
which she had in the Lover's. What Influence then can she hope to have
upon the Morals of an avowed Libertine, who marries perhaps for
Conveniency; who despises the Tie; and whom it is too probable that
nothing but Age or Sickness, or Disease (the Consequence of ruinous
Riot), can reclaim." There cannot be a more pernicious Notion, than that
which is so commonly received, That a reformed Rake makes the best
Husband. This Notion it was the Intent of the Author of Clarissa to
explode.

The Authors of Novels and Romances, who always make their Heroes and
Heroines contend with great Distresses (the more romantic, with them,
the better) seem to think they have done every-thing, when they have
joined the Lovers Hands; and this is called a _happy Ending_ of the
Story. But, alas! it is then, too generally, that the Lovers have the
greatest Difficulties to encounter with, as they then see each other in
nearer and truer Lights.

And I have moreover always thought, that these sudden Conversions have
neither Art, nor Nature, nor Probability in them; and that they are,
besides, of very bad Example. To have a Libertine, for a Series of
Years, glory in his Wickedness, and to think he had nothing to do, but,
as an Act of Grace and Favour, to hold out his Hand to receive that of
the best of Women, whenever he pleased, and that Marriage would be a
sufficient Amends for his Villainies, I could not bear that, nor wished
I, that the World should think it Amends.

I had given in the Story of Pamela what is called a happy Issue. It was,
however, owing to her implicit Submission to a lordly and imperious
Husband, who hardly deserved her, that she was happy; a Submission which
every Woman could not have shewn. And yet she had a too well grounded
Jealousy to contend with afterwards; which, for the time, tore her Heart
in pieces. Nor was Mr. B's Reformation secured, till religious
Considerations obtained place, on seeing the Precipice he was dancing
upon with the Countess. _For we must observe_, that Reformation is not
to be secured by a fine Face, by a Passion that has Sense for its
Object; nor by the Goodness of a Wife's Heart, if the Husband have not a
good one of his own; and that properly touched by the divine Finger.

The Author of this Piece was willing to try to do something in this way,
that never before had been done. The Tragic Poets have seldom made their
Heroes _true_ Objects of Pity; and very seldom have made them in their
Deaths look forward to a better Hope. And thus, when they die, they seem
_totally_ to perish. Death in _such_ Instances must be terrible. It must
be considered as the greatest Evil. But why is Death set in such
shocking Lights, when it is the common Lot? / /

* * * * *
[3]

The Heroine of this Piece shews, that she has well considered this great
Point, when she says--"What is even the long Life, which in high Health
we wish for? What but, as we go along, a Life of Apprehension, sometimes
for our Friends, oftener for ourselves? And at last, when arrived at the
old Age we covet, one heavy Loss or Deprivation having succeeded
another, we see ourselves stript, as I may say, of every one we loved;
and find ourselves exposed, as uncompaniable poor Creatures, to the
Slights, the Contempts, of jostling Youth, who want to push us off the
Stage, in Hopes to possess what we have. And, superadded to all, our own
Infirmities every Day increasing; of themselves enough to make the Life
we wished for, the greatest Disease of all."

Such are the Doctrines, such the Lessons, which are endeavoured to be
inculcated in the following Sheets by an Example in natural Life. The
more unfashionable, the more irksome, these Doctrines, these Lessons,
are to the Young, the Gay, and the Healthy, the more necessary are they
to be inculcated. Religion never since the Reformation was at so low an
Ebb as at present: And if there be those, who suppose this Work to be of
the Novel Kind, it may not be amiss, even in the Opinion of such, to
try whether, by an Accommodation to the light Taste of the Age a
Religious Novel will do Good.

But altho' the Work, according to the Account thus far given of it, may
be thought to wear a solemn Aspect, and is indeed intended to be of the
Tragic Species, it will not be amiss to acquaint our youthful Readers,
that they will find in the Letters of the Gentlemen, and even in many of
those of one of the Ladies, Scenes and Subjects of a diverting Turn; one
of the Men humorously, yet not uninstructively, glorying in his Talents
for Stratagem and Invention, as he communicates to the other, in
Confidence, all the secret Purposes of his Heart.

Not uninstructively, we repeat; for it is proper to apprise the serious
Reader, and such as may apprehend Hurt to the Morals of Youth from their
Perusal of the more freely written Letters, that the Gentlemen, tho'
professed Libertines as to the Fair Sex, are not, however, Infidels or
Scoffers; nor yet such as think themselves freed from the Observance of
those other moral Obligations which bind Man to Man. / /

[4]

The Reader is referred to the Postscript, at the End of the last Volume,
for what may be further necessary to be observed in relation to this
Work.

Judges will see, that, long as the Work is, there is not one Digression,
not one Episode, not one Reflection, but what arises naturally from the
Subject, and makes for it, and to carry it on.

Variety of Styles and Circumstances.

The Two first Volumes chiefly written by the Two Ladies.
Two next....................................by Lovelace.
Three last.....................by the reforming Belford.

Whence different Styles, Manners, &c. that make Episodes useless.

~_Clarissa an Example to the Reader: The Example not to be taken from the
Reader._~

The vicious Characters in this History are more pure, Images more
chaste, than in the most virtuous of the Dramatic Poets.

Clarissa is so ready to find fault with herself on every Occasion, that
we cannot consent, that a Character so exemplary in the greater Points
should suffer merely from the Inattention of the hasty Reader. Let us
therefore consider of some of the Objections made against her Story: And
yet we may venture to assert, that there is not an Objection that is
come to Knowlege [sic], but is either answered or anticipated in the
Work.

Obj. I. _Clarissa has been thought by some to want Love_--To be
prudish--To be over-delicate.

Those who blame Clarissa for Over-niceness, would most probably have
been an easy Prey to a Lovelace.

One Design in her Character is to shew, that Love ought to be overcome,
when it has not Virtue or Reformation for its Object.

Many Persons readier to find fault with a supposed perfect Character,
than to try to imitate it: To bring it down to their Level, rather than
to rise to it.

Clarissa an Example _to_ the Reader: The Example not to be taken _from_
the Reader.

Obj. II. _Lovelace could not be so generous, and so wicked._ Common
Experience confutes this Objection.

Obj. III. _There could not be such a Tyrant of a Father: Such an
insolent and brutal Brother: Such an unrelenting Sister: Such a passive
Mother_--Every-body is not of this Opinion. It were to be wished, that
this Objection were unanswerable.

Obj. IV. _The History is too minute._ Its Minuteness one of its
Excellencies.

[5]

Attentive Readers have found, and will find, that the Probability of all
Stories told, or of Narrations given, depends upon small Circumstances;
as may be observed, that in all Tryals for Life and Property, the/ /Merits
of the Cause are more determinable by such, than by the greater Facts;
which usually are so laid, and taken care of, as to seem to authenticate
themselves.

Cannot consent, that the History of Clarissa should be looked upon as a
mere Novel or Amusement--since it is rather a History of Life and
Manners; the principal View of which, by an Accommodation to the present
light Taste of an Age immersed in Diversions, that engage the Eye and
the Ear only, and not the Understanding, aims to investigate the great
Doctrines of Christianity, and to teach the Reader how to die, as well
as how to live.

Step by Step, Difficulties varied and enumerated, that young Creatures
may know, that tho' they may not have all her Trials, how to comport
gradatim.

If provoked and induced as she was, yet so loth to leave her Friends,
and go off with her Lover, what Blame must those incur, who take such a
Step, and have not her Provocations and Inducements!

Obj. V. _Why did she not throw herself into Lady Betty's Protection?_

For Answer, see Vol. III, p. 152, and before: Also p. 158, 159, that
Lady's writing to her, and not inviting her to her. See also their
Debate, p. 159, 160.--Miss Montague wishes to see her at M. Hall; but it
is after she should be married. See further, her Observations on Miss
Montague's not excusing her self for not meeting her on the Road; yet
Clarissa's Willingness to say something for L. / /

* * * * *

[6]

On the contrary, it will be found, that they every-where disclaim the
Impiety of such as endeavour to make a Religion to their Practices; and
each upon himself, and
very often make such Reflections upon each other, and, / upon his Actions,
as reasonable Beings, who disbelieve not a future State of Rewards and
Punishments (and who one Day propose to reform) must sometimes make--one
of them actually reforming, and antidoting the Poison spread by the
gayer Pen, and lighter Heart, of the other.

And yet that other (altho', in unbosoming himself to a select Friend, he
discover Wickedness enough to intitle him to general Hatred) 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.

The Writer chose to tell his Tale in a Series of Letters, supposed to be
written by the Parties concerned, as the Circumstances related passed:
For this Juncture afforded him the only natural Opportunity that could
be had, of representing with any Grace those lively and delicate
Impressions, which _Things present_ are known to make upon the Minds of
those affected by them. And he apprehends, that in the Study of human
Nature the Knowlege [sic] of those Apprehensions leads us farther into
the Recesses of the human Mind, than the colder and more general
Reflections suited to a continued and more contracted Narrative.

On the Contents.

Obj. _Contents will anticipate the Reader's Curiosity._

The Curiosity not so much the View to excite, as the Attention to the
Instruction. When the Curiosity is partly gratified, there will be the
more room for the Attention. Rather instruct, than divert or amuse.

The Reader will remember, that the Instructions, Lessons, and Warnings,
both to Parents and Children, for the sake of which the Whole was
published, cannot appear in a Table of Contents, that means only to
point out the principal Facts, the Connexion of the Whole, and to set
before the Reader as well the blameable as the laudable Conduct of the
principal Characters, and to teach them what to pursue, and what to
avoid, in a Piece that is not to be considered as an Amusement only, but
rather as a History of Life and Manners. / /

[7]

Drawn up with a View to obviate such of the Objections as have been made
to particular Characters and Passages, thro' want of Attention to the
Story.

--In such as have pursued the Story with too much Rapidity to attend to
the Connexion, and to the Instruction aimed to be given, and to the
Example proposed to be set.

So many important Lessons, as to Life and Manners, in the Work, that the
Reader may be intrusted with the Contents. / /

* * * * *

[8]

Rev. Mr. Skelton.

They who read Romances and Novels, being accustomed to a Variety of
Intrigues and Adventures, thro' which they are hurried to the
Catastrophe; when they take up Clarissa, not considering that it is
another kind of Work, or rather a new Species of Novel, are apt to think
it tedious, towards the Beginning especially, because they have not the
same Palate for natural Incidents, as for imaginary Adventures; for the
Workings of private and domestic Passions, as for those of Kings,
Heroes, Heroines; for a Story English as to its Scenes, Names, Manners,
as for one that is foreign: But a Reader of true Taste and Judgment will
like it infinitely better, because it comes home to the Heart, and to
common Life, in every Line; because it abounds with a surprising Variety
of Strokes and Paintings, that seem to be taken from real Life, and of
Maxims and Reflections too just, and too useful, to be passed over
unnoticed or unremembred [sic] by a Reader of Experience. These,
together with the masterly Management of the Characters, serve better to
entertain, while they instruct, a judicious Reader, than a Croud of mere
imaginary Amours, Duels, and such-like Events, which abound with Leaves
and Flowers, but no Fruits; and therefore cannot be relished but by a
vitiated Taste, by the Taste of a Chameleon, not of a Man. Two or three
Hours furnish Matter for an excellent Play: Why may not Two or Three
Months supply Materials for as many Volumes? Is the History of
Thucydides less entertaining or instructive, because its Subject is
confined to narrow Bounds, than that of Raleigh, which hath the World
for its Subject? Is Clarissa a mere Novel? Whoever considers it as such,
does not understand it. It is a System of religious and moral Precepts
and Examples, planned on an entertaining Story, which stands or goes
forward, as the excellent Design of the Author requires; but never
stands without pouring in Incidents, Descriptions, Maxims, that keep
Attention alive, that engage and mend the Heart, that play with the
Imagination, while they inform the Understanding. / /

* * * * *

[9]

Rev. Mr. Spence.

It is the more necessary to say something, by way of Preface, of the
following Work; because it is a Work of a new kind among us.

The Writers of _Novels_ and _Romances_ have generally endeavoured to
pick out the most pleasing Stories; to pass over the dry Parts in them;
and to hurry the Reader on from one striking Event to another. Their
_only_ Aim seems to be that of making a Tissue of Adventures, which by
their Strangeness and Variety are meant only to surprise and please.
Nature they have not much in View; and Morality is often quite out of
the Question with them.

Instead of following this way of writing, the Author of Clarissa has
attempted to give a plain and natural Account of an Affair that happened
in a private Family, just in the manner that it did happen. He has aimed
solely at following Nature; and giving the Sentiments of the Persons
concerned, just as they flowed warm from their Hearts.

The best way to do this he thought was to carry on the Story, not in the
narrative way, as usual; but by making them write their own Thoughts to
Friends, soon after each Incident happened; with all that Naturalness
and Warmth, with which they felt them, at that time, in their own Minds.

This must necessarily lead the Work into a great Length: For as his Aim
was to give a true and full Picture of Nature, the whole Course of the
Affair is represented; frequently, even to the most minute Particulars:
And as they are related by Persons concerned, you have not only the
Particulars, but what they felt in their own Minds at the time, and
their Reflections upon them afterwards: Beside, that Letters always give
a Liberty of little Excursions; and when between Intimate Friends,
require an Opening of the Heart, and consequently a Diffuseness, that
the narrative Style would not admit of.

The chief Intent of the Work was, to draw off the Ladies, if possible,
from the distinguishing Fondness many of them are too apt to entertain
for Rakes; and to shew them, that if they put themselves into the Power
of a Rake, they are sure of being ill used by him.

[10]

To this End the Author has chosen out a Story, which is as strong a
Proof of it as can well be. A Lady of particular good Sense, Breeding,
and Morals, is so ill used by her Family, in order to oblige her to
marry a Man she cannot like, that they drive her at last into the Hands
of a Rake, who professes the most honourable Passion for her. From the
Moment she is in his Hands, he is plotting how to ruin her: Her
Innocence is above all his Art and Temtations [sic]; so that he is
forced to use other, and yet viler Means. In spite/ /of all her
Virtue, her Person is abused. She resents it, as she ought; and escapes
from him: But, worn out with a continued Series of ill Usage (from her
own Family, as well as from the Villain, and his Adherents), she
continues languishing; and at last dies forgiving all her Enemies.

To give this the greater Strength, the Lady is represented as superior
to all her Sex; and the Rake of a mixt Character, and not so bad as
several of his. She likes the Man; but has no violent Passion for him:
He loves her above all Women; and yet is resolved most steadily to
pursue her Ruin. All her Calamities with him are occasioned, at
first,[34] by going scarce sensibly out of the Bounds of her Duty; and
afterwards, by being betrayed into an Action[35], which she did not
intend; and which, had she intended [it] [sic], under her Circumstances,
was scarce to be blamed. When in his Hands, her Virtue is invincible:
She is perpetually alarmed, and her Prudence is ever on the Watch. And
yet she falls a Prey to his Villainy; and from being the Glory of her
Sex, becomes an Object of our Compassion. If a Clarissa thus fell, what
must the rest of Women expect, if they give greater Encouragements to
yet more abandoned Men?

There are other Side-Morals (and particularly that very instructive one
to Parents, not to insist too rigidly on forcing their Childrens
Inclinations); but this is the direct Moral of the whole Story: "That a
Woman, even of the greatest Abilities, should not enter into any, even
the most guarded, Correspondence with a Rake; and that if she once falls
into his Power, she is undone."

To enforce this Moral, it was necessary to Paint out all the Distresses
of the Sufferer; and to make her suffer to the End: In doing which, the
Author, I dare say, has given several Pangs to his own Heart, as well as
to the Hearts of his Readers. But these should be looked upon like the
Incisions made by a kind Surgeon; who feels himself for every Stroke
that he gives; and who gives them only out of Humanity, and to save his
Patients.

Indeed, as the Patients here are the Ladies, the Suffering must be the
greater; to the Author, as well as to them: But had they not better
suffer, from these generous Tendernesses of their own Hearts, than from
the Villainies of such Enemies, as they are here warned to avoid? Their
Tears look beautifully, when they are shed for a Clarissa; but they
would be a killing Sight to one, were they to be shed for themselves,
upon falling into Distresses like hers.

[11]

I do not wonder, that in reading this Story, many of them should wish,
that it might have ended less unfortunately. It is agreeable to the
Tenderness and Goodness of their Hearts. The Author, no doubt, wished so
too: But that could not be brought about, without taking away the Moral,
or, at least, very much weakening the Force of it. The Business of this
Work is to shew the Distresses of an almost innocent Sufferer, and the
Villainies of a debauched Man, who wanted chiefly to pride himself in
the Conquest of her. It/ /is all but one Story, with one Design; and
the making the Lady fortunate in the End, would have varied the Fact,
and undermined his Design. In a Picture that represents any melancholy
Story, a good Painter will make the Sky all dark and cloudy; and cast a
Gloom on every thing in it: If the Subject be gay, he gives a Brightness
to all his Sky; and an Enlivening to all the Objects: But he will never
confound these Characters; and give you a Picture that shall be sad in
one half of it, and gay in the other. In this Work the Design is as much
one, and the Colouring as much one, as they can be in a Picture; and to
confuse either, would be the most ready way to spoil both.

Clarissa takes but one false Step in the whole Piece. She is impelled
toward it, in general, by the strange Behaviour of her Family; and
betrayed into it, at the time, by the strange Contrivances of her
Deceiver. But this single Step was of the utmost Consequence. It flings
her into the Power of the most dangerous of Men; and that makes all the
Remainder of her Life melancholy and distressed. This is the Lesson:
And if it be a good one, the Force of it ought not to be weakened by her
Recovering from all her Distresses, and growing quite happy again; which
indeed would not only weaken, but intirely take away, all the Force that
was intended to be given to it.

Yet if Clarissa be unfortunate, she is not miserable. She preserved her
Innocence thro' all her Trials, after that one false Step: When she had
no Comfort to expect in this World, she turns her Hopes and Confidence
toward Heaven: Her Afflictions are soon ended, for the Course of this
whole Affair (taking it from the very Beginning) is included within the
Bounds of one Year: And she departs with Pleasure from a Life full of
Trouble, to be rewarded without End. So that, tho' we are warned by
Clarissa's Example, we have no Reason to be concerned at her
Dissolution: Much more noble, and more to be admired, in her Steadiness,
and just Conduct, then, than when she was caressed by all her Relations,
in the Bloom of her unviolated Innocence, and busied in all the little
endearing Offices of her good Nature, and good Sense. / /

* * * * *

[12]

All the Objections to the Design and Conduct of the History of =Clarissa=,
which have seemed to carry any Weight in them, being, we presume,
obviated in the PS. to this Work, we apprehend it will be only expected
from us, on this Second Publication, that we exhibit some Particulars,
which may help to shew the superiority of its Moral to any of the Morals
of those Works of Invention, which have been offered to the Public under
the Name of =Novel=, or =Romance=.

Now what a Romance usually professes to entertain us with, may be
considered under Three General Heads; _Ridicule_; or, _Serious
Adventures_; or, lastly, a _Mixture of both_.

It must be owned, that there are some Works under the First of these
Heads, which have their Excellencies; Tho' we may be permitted to doubt,
whether _Ridicule_ is a proper Basis (without the Help of more solid
Buttresses) whereon to build Instruction, whatever Delight it may
administer to the Reader.

As to those Authors who have given us the _Serious_; some of them make
use of a Style as horrid as their Matter: We may be excused mentioning
their Names, in this Place, since, without Self-flattery, we may say, we
disdain to appear on the same Page with them. We shall only observe in
general, that they are far from being clear of the strained Metaphors,
and unnatural Rants, of the old Romances, whose enormous Volumes would
be enough to terrify a Reader who sought only for Amusement, and not for
Employment of his better to be employed Hours.

Between these two Extremes that something useful to the Cause of
Religion and Virtue should be struck out, was the Author of Clarissa's
Intent. Such an Intent has Two manifest Advantages over all other Works
which
of Invention ~that~ have yet appeared.

The First of these is, That, by the Work now presented to our Fair
Readers, they may be instructed to render themselves superior to that
_extravagant_ Taste in Courtship, which was the prevailing Mode in Two
or Three preceding Centuries; and from which the present, we are sorry
to say, is not absolutely free.