LETTER LXI
MR. BELFORD, TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ.TUES. SEPT. 9 IN THE MORN. AT MR. SMITH'S.
When I read yours of this morning, I could not help pitying you for theaccount you give of the dreadful anxiety and suspense you labour under.I wish from my heart all were to end as you are so willing to hope: butit will not be; and your suspense, if the worst part of your torment, asyou say it is, will soon be over; but, alas! in a way you wish not.
I attended the lady just now. She is extremely ill: yet is she aimingat an answer to her Norton's letter, which she began yesterday in her ownchamber, and has written a good deal: but in a hand not like her own fineone, as Mrs. Lovick tells me, but larger, and the lines crooked.
I have accepted of the offer of a room adjoining to the widow Lovick's,till I see how matters go; but unknown to the lady; and I shall go homeevery night, for a few hours. I would not lose a sentence that I couldgain from lips so instructive, nor the opportunity of receiving anycommand from her, for an estate.
In this my new apartment I now write, and shall continue to write, asoccasions offer, that I may be the more circumstantial: but I depend uponthe return of my letters, or copies of them, on demand, that I may havetogether all that relates to this affecting story; which I shallre-peruse with melancholy pleasure to the end of my life.
I think I will send thee Brand's letter to Mr. John Harlowe, recantinghis base surmises. It is a matchless piece of pedantry; and may perhapsa little divert thy deep chagrin: some time hence at least it may, if notnow.
What wretched creatures are there in the world! What strangely mixedcreatures!--So sensible and so silly at the same time! What a various,what a foolish creature is man!--
THREE O'CLOCK.
The lady has just finished her letter, and has entertained Mrs. Lovick,Mrs. Smith, and me, with a noble discourse on the vanity and brevity oflife, to which I cannot do justice in the repetition: and indeed I am sogrieved for her, that, ill as she is, my intellects are not half so clearas her's.
A few things which made the strongest impression upon me, as well fromthe sentiments themselves as from her manner of uttering them, Iremember. She introduced them thus:
I am thinking, said she, what a gradual and happy death God Almighty(blessed be his name) affords me! Who would have thought, that, sufferingwhat I have suffered, and abandoned as I have been, with such atender education as I have had, I should be so long a dying!--But see nowby little and little it had come to this. I was first take off from thepower of walking; then I took a coach--a coach grew too violent anexercise: then I took up a chair--the prison was a large DEATH-STRIDEupon me--I should have suffered longer else!--Next, I was unable to go tochurch; then to go up or down stairs; now hardly can move from one roomto another: and a less room will soon hold me.--My eyes begin to fail me,so that at times I cannot see to read distinctly; and now I can hardlywrite, or hold a pen.--Next, I presume, I shall know nobody, nor be ableto thank any of you; I therefore now once more thank you, Mrs. Lovick,and you, Mrs. Smith, and you, Mr. Belford, while I can thank you, for allyour kindness to me. And thus by little and little, in such a gradualsensible death as I am blessed with, God dies away in us, as I may say,all human satisfaction, in order to subdue his poor creatures to himself.
Thou mayest guess how affected we all were at this moving account of herprogressive weakness. We heard it with wet eyes; for what with thewomen's example, and what with her moving eloquence, I could no more helpit than they. But we were silent nevertheless; and she went on applyingherself to me.
O Mr. Belford! This is a poor transitory life in the best enjoyments.We flutter about here and there, with all our vanities about us, likepainted butterflies, for a gay, but a very short season, till at last welay ourselves down in a quiescent state, and turn into vile worms: Andwho knows in what form, or to what condition we shall rise again?
I wish you would permit me, a young creature, just turned of nineteenyears of age, blooming and healthy as I was a few months ago, now nipt bythe cold hand of death, to influence you, in these my last hours, to alife of regularity and repentance for any past evils you may have beenguilty of. For, believe me, Sir, that now, in this last stage, very fewthings will bear the test, or be passed as laudable, if pardonable, atour own bar, much less at a more tremendous one, in all we have done, ordelighted in, even in a life not very offensive neither, as we may think!--Ought we not then to study in our full day, before the dark hoursapproach, so to live, as may afford reflections that will soften theagony of the last moments when they come, and let in upon the departingsoul a ray of Divine mercy to illuminate its passage into an awfuleternity?
She was ready to faint, and choosing to lie down, I withdrew; I need notsay with a melancholy heart: and when I got to my new-taken apartment, myheart was still more affected by the sight of the solemn letter theadmirable lady had so lately finished. It was communicated to me by Mrs.Lovick; who had it to copy for me; but it was not to be delivered to metill after her departure. However, I trespassed so far, as to prevailupon the widow to let me take a copy of it; which I did directly incharacter.
I send it enclosed. If thou canst read it, and thy heart not bleed atthy eyes, thy remorse can hardly be so deep as thou hast inclined me tothink it is.
Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 8 Page 62