the curse, or the reason
for it, upon remote generations.

Wicked as the sober world accounts you and me, we have not yet, it is
to be hoped, got over all compunction. Although we find religion against
us, we have not yet presumed those who do. And we know better than to
be even doubters. In short, we believe a future state of rewards and
punishments. But as we have so much youth and health in hand, we hope to
have time for repentance. That is to say, in plain English, [nor think
thou me too grave, Lovelace: thou art grave sometimes, though not
often,] we hope to live to sense, as long as sense can relish, and
purpose to reform when we can sin no longer.

And shall this admirable woman suffer for her generous endeavours to set
on foot thy reformation; and for insisting upon proofs of the sincerity
of thy professions before she will be thine?

Upon the whole matter, let me wish thee to consider well what thou art
about, before thou goest a step farther in the path which thou hast
chalked out for thyself to tread, and art just going to enter upon.
Hitherto all is so far right, that if the lady mistrusts thy honour, she
has no proofs. Be honest to her, then, in her sense of the word. None of
thy companions, thou knowest, will offer to laugh at what thou dost.
And if they should (of thy entering into a state which has been so much
ridiculed by thee, and by all of us) thou hast one advantage--it is
this, that thou canst not be ashamed.

Deferring to the post-day to close my letter, I find one left at my
cousin Osgood's, with directions to be forwarded to the lady. It
was brought within these two hours by a particular hand, and has a
Harlowe-seal upon it. As it may therefore be of importance, I dispatch
it with my own, by my servant, post-haste.*

* This letter was from Miss Arabella Harlowe. See Let. LV.

I suppose you will soon be in town. Without the lady, I hope. Farewell.

Be honest, and be happy, J. BELFORD.

SAT. APRIL 22.

LETTER LII

MRS. HERVEY, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE [IN ANSWER TO LETTER XVIII.]

DEAR NIECE,

It would be hard not to write a few lines, so much pressed to write, to
one I ever loved. Your former letter I received; yet was not at liberty
to answer it. I break my word to answer you now.

Strange informations are every day received about you. The wretch you
are with, we are told, is every hour triumphing and defying--Must not
these informations aggravate? You know the