arent, that the pains they
took about themselves but the more exposed their defects.

The man who is fond of being thought more or better than he is, as I have
often observed, but provokes a scrutiny into his pretensions; and that
generally produces contempt. For pride, as I believe I have heretofore
said, is an infallible sign of weakness; of something wrong in the head
or in both. He that exalts himself insults his neighbour; who is
provoked to question in him even that merit, which, were he modest, would
perhaps be allowed to be his due.

You will say that I am very grave: and so I am. Mr. Lovelace is
extremely sunk in my opinion since Monday night: nor see I before me any
thing that can afford me a pleasing hope. For what, with a mind so
unequal as his, can be my best hope?

I think I mentioned to you, in my former, that my clothes were brought
me. You fluttered me so, that I am not sure I did. But I know I
designed to mention that they were. They were brought me on Thursday;
but neither my few guineas with them, nor any of my books, except a
Drexelius on Eternity, the good old Practice of Piety, and a Francis
Spira. My brother's wit, I suppose. He thinks he does well to point out
death and despair to me. I wish for the one, and every now-and-then am
on the brink of the other.

You will the less wonder at my being so very solemn, when, added to the
above, and to my uncertain situation, I tell you, that they have sent me
with these books a letter form my cousin Morden. It has set my heart
against Mr. Lovelace. Against myself too. I send it enclosed. If you
please, my dear, you may read it here:

COL. MORDEN, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE

Florence, April 13.

I am extremely concerned to hear of a difference betwixt the rest of a
family so near and dear to me, and you still dearer to than any of the
rest.

My cousin James has acquainted me with the offers you have had, and with
your refusals. I wonder not at either. Such charming promises at so
early an age as when I left England; and those promises, as I have often
heard, so greatly exceeded, as well in your person as mind; how much must
you be admired! how few must there be worthy of you!

Your parents, the most indulgent in the world, to a child the most
deserving, have given way it seems to your refusal of several gentlemen.
They have contented themselves at last to name one with earnestness to
you, because of the address of another whom th