Why?  Can you ask why, my dearest Miss Howe, of a creature, who, in the world’s eye, had enrolled her name among the giddy and inconsiderate; who labours under a parent’s curse, and the cruel uncertainties, which must arise from reflecting, that, equally against duty and principle, she has thrown herself into the power of a man, and that man an immoral one?—­ Must not the sense she has of her inconsideration darken her most hopeful prospects?  Must it not even rise strongest upon a thoughtful mind, when her hopes are the fairest?  Even her pleasures, were the man to prove better than she expects, coming to her with an abatement, like that which persons who are in possession of ill-gotten wealth must then most poignantly experience (if they have reflecting and unseared minds) when, all their wishes answered, (if answered,) they sit down in hopes to enjoy what they have unjustly obtained, and find their own reflections their greatest torment.

May you, my dear friend, be always happy in your reflections, prays

Your ever affectionate
CL.  Harlowe.

***

[Mr. Lovelace, in his next letter, triumphs on his having carried his two
   great points of making the Lady yield to pass for his wife to the
   people of the house, and to his taking up his lodging in it, though
   but for one night.  He is now, he says, in a fair way, and doubts not
   but that he shall soon prevail, if not by persuasion, by surprise. 
   Yet he pretends to have some little remorse, and censures himself as
   to acting the part of the grand tempter.  But having succeeded thus
   far, he cannot, he says, forbear trying, according to the resolution
   he had before made, whether he cannot go farther.

He gives the particulars of their debates on the above-mentioned
   subjects, to the same effect as in the Lady’s last letters.

It will by this time be seen that his whole merit, with regard to the
   Lady, lies in doing justice to her excellencies both of mind and
   person, though to his own condemnation.  Thus he begins his succeeding
   letter:]

And now, Belford, will I give thee an account of our first breakfast-conversation.

All sweetly serene and easy was the lovely brow and charming aspect of my goddess, on her descending among us; commanding reverence from every eye, a courtesy from every knee, and silence, awful silence, from every quivering lip:  while she, armed with conscious worthiness and superiority, looked and behaved as an empress would look and behave among her vassals; yet with a freedom from pride and haughtiness, as if born to dignity, and to a behaviour habitually gracious.

[He takes notice of the jealousy, pride, and vanity of Sally Martin and
   Polly Horton, on his respectful behaviour to the Lady:  creatures who,
   brought up too high for their fortunes, and to a taste of pleasure,
   and the public diversions, had fallen an easy prey to his seducing
   arts (as will be seen in the conclusion of this work:) and who, as he
   observed, ’had not yet got over that distinction in their love, which
   makes a woman prefer one man to another.’]