He explains to Belford, “truly, a single woman who thinks she has a soul, and knows that she wants something, would be thought to have found a fellow-soul for it in her own sex...; when a man comes in between the pretended inseparables, [friendship] is given up like their music and other maidenly amusements” (L252).

In this complex, unstable triangle, we have both Clarissa and Lovelace equated with Anna, and each of the three principals expressing passion for the other two. This glimpse into the transgressive potential of relationship delays but cannot quite subvert the conventional direction of domestic fiction. Anna Howe, former spokesperson for women’s independence, must eventually marry the sweet-tempered Mr. Hickman, thus restoring social coherence to the disrupted neighborhood.

And yet neither Clarissa nor Lovelace will so compromise. In Lovelace’s words, “I must soon blow up the lady, or be blown up myself” (L255).

—Sheila Ortiz-Taylor

Letter 1: MISS ANNA HOWE TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE

Jan. 10

I am extremely concerned, my dearest friend, for the disturbances 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 everybody’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, 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 be well 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 violence left him from the very first pass 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 pass by everything if—’

But this the more provoked his rashness to lay himself open to the advantage of his adversary, who, after a slight wound in the arm, took away his sword.

There are people who love not your brother, because of his natural imperiousness and fierce and uncontrollable temper: these say that the young gentleman’s passion was abated on seeing his blood gush plentifully down his arm; and that he received the generous offices of his adversary (who helped him off with his coat and waistcoat and bound up his arm, till the surgeon could come) with such patience as was far from making a visit afterwards from that adversary to inquire after his health appear either insulting or improper.

Be this as it may, everybody pities you. So steady, so uniform in your conduct; so desirous, as you always said, of sliding through life to the end of it unnoted; and, as I may add, not wishing to be observed even for your silent benevolence; sufficiently happy in the noble consciousness which rewards it: Rather useful than glaring, your deserved motto; though now pushed into blaze, as we see, to your regret; and yet blamed at home for the faults of others. How must such a virtue suffer on every hand! Yet it must be allowed that your present trial is but proportioned to your prudence! As all your friends without doors are apprehensive that some other unhappy event may result from so violent a contention, in which it seems the families on both sides are now engaged, I must desire you to enable me, on the authority of your own information, to do you occasional justice.

My mamma, and all of us, like the rest of the world, talk of nobody but you on this occasion, and of the consequences which may follow from the resentments of a man of Mr Lovelace’s spirit; who, as he gives out, has been treated with high indignity by your uncles. My mamma will have it that you cannot now, with any decency, either see him or correspond with him. She is a good deal prepossessed by your uncle Antony, who occasionally calls upon us, as you know; and, on this rencounter, has represented to her the crime which it would be in a sister to encourage a man, who is to wade into her favour (this was his expression) through the blood of her brother.

Write to me therefore, my dear, the whole of your story from the time that Mr Lovelace was first introduced into your family; and particularly an account of all that passed between him and your sister, about which there are different reports; some people supposing that the younger sister (at least by her uncommon merit) has stolen a lover from the elder. And pray write in so full a manner as may gratify those who know not so much of your affairs as I do. If anything unhappy should fall out from the violence of such spirits as you have to deal with, your account of all things previous to it will be your justification.

You see what you draw upon yourself by excelling all your sex. Every individual of it who knows you, or has heard of you, seems to think you answerable to her for your conduct in points so very delicate and concerning.

Every eye, in short, is upon you with the expectation of an example. I wish to heaven you were at liberty to pursue your own methods; all would then, I dare say, be easy and honourably ended. But I dread your directors and directresses; for your mamma, admirably well qualified as she is to lead, must submit to be led. Your sister and brother will certainly put you out of your course.

But this is a point you will not permit me to expatiate upon: pardon me therefore, and I have done. Yet, why should I say, Pardon me? When your concerns are my concerns? When your honour is my honour? When I love you, as never woman loved another? And when you have allowed of that concern and of that love, and have for years, which in persons so young may be called many, ranked in the first class of your friends.

Your ever-grateful and affectionate

ANNA HOWE?

Letter 2: MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE TO MISS HOWE

Harlowe Place, Jan. 13

How you oppress me, my dearest friend, with your politeness! I cannot doubt your sincerity; but you should take care that you give me not reason from your kind partiality to call in question your judgement. You do not distinguish that I take many admirable hints from you, and have the art to pass them upon you for my own. For in all you do, in all you say, nay, in your very looks (so animated!) you give lessons, to one who loves you and observes you as I love and observe you, without knowing that you do. So, pray, my dear, be more sparing of your praise for the future, lest after this confession we should suspect that you secretly intend to praise yourself, while you would be thought only to commend another.

Our family has indeed been strangely discomposed. Discomposed! It has been in tumults, ever since the unhappy transaction; and I have borne all the blame; yet should have had too much concern from myself had I been more justly spared by everyone else.

For, whether it be owing to a faulty impatience, having been too indulgently treated to be inured to blame, or to the regret I have to hear those censured on my account whom it is my duty to vindicate; I have sometimes wished that it had pleased God to have taken me in my last fever, when I had everybody’s love and good opinion; but oftener, that I had never been distinguished by my grandpapa as I was: which has estranged me, I doubt, my brother’s and sister’s affections; at least, has raised a jealousy, with regard to the apprehended favour of my two uncles, that now and then overshadows their love.

My brother being happily recovered of his fever and his wound in a hopeful way, although he has not yet ventured abroad, I will be as particular as you desire in the little history you demand of me. But heaven forbid that anything should ever happen which may require it to be produced for the purpose you so kindly mention!

I will begin as you command, with Mr Lovelace’s address to my sister, and be as brief as possible. I will recite facts only, and leave you to judge of the truth of the report raised that the younger sister has robbed the elder.

It was in pursuance of a conference between Lord M. and my uncle Antony, that Mr Lovelace (my papa and mamma not forbidding) paid his respects to my sister Arabella.