n: takes a pride to have her
called by his name: a church-rite all the difference between them: treats
her with deserved tenderness. Nobody questions their marriage but those
proud relations of her's, whom he wishes to question it. Every year a
charming boy. Fortunes to support the increasing family with splendor.
A tender father. Always a warm friend; a generous landlord; and a
punctual paymaster. Now-and-then however, perhaps, indulging with a new
object, in order to bring him back with greater delight to his charming
Clarissa--his only fault, love of the sex--which, nevertheless, the women
say, will cure itself--defensible thus far, that he breaks no contracts
by his rovings.'--

And what is there so very greatly amiss, AS THE WORLD GOES, in all this?

Let me aver, that there are thousands and ten thousands, who have worse
stories to tell than this would appear to be, had I not interested thee
in the progress to my great end. And besides, thou knowest that the
character I gave myself to Joseph Leman, as to my treatment of my
mistress, is pretty near the truth.*

* See Vol. III. Letter XLVIII.

Were I to be as much in earnest in my defence, as thou art warm in my
arraignment, I could convince thee, by other arguments, observations, and
comparisons, [Is not all human good and evil comparative?] that though
from my ingenuous temper (writing only to thee, who art master of every
secret of my heart) I am so ready to accuse myself in my narrations, yet
I have something to say for myself to myself, as I go along; though no
one else, perhaps, that was not a rake, would allow any weight to it.--
And this caution might I give to thousands, who would stoop for a stone
to throw at me: 'See that your own predominant passions, whatever they
be, hurry you not into as much wickedness as mine do me. See, if ye
happen to be better than I in some things, that ye are not worse in
others; and in points too, that may be of more extensive bad consequence,
than that of seducing a girl, (and taking care of her afterwards,) who,
from her cradle, is armed with cautions against the delusions of men.'
And yet I am not so partial to my own follies as to think lightly of this
fault, when I allow myself to think.

Another grave thing I will add, now my hand is in: 'So dearly do I love
the sex, that had I found that a character for virtue had been generally
necessary to recommend me to them, I should have had a much greater
regard to