ven 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 Distres