LETTER LXIV
MR. BELFORD, TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ.TUEDAY, SEPT. 5, SIX O'CLOCK.
The lady remains exceedingly weak and ill. Her intellects, nevertheless,continue clear and strong, and her piety and patience are withoutexample. Every one thinks this night will be her last. What a shockingthing is that to say of such an excellence! She will not, however, sendaway her letter to her Norton, as yet. She endeavoured in vain tosuperscribe it: so desired me to do it. Her fingers will not hold thepen with the requisite steadiness.--She has, I fear, written and read herlast!
EIGHT O'CLOCK.
She is somewhat better than she was. The doctor had been here, andthinks she will hold out yet a day or two. He has ordered her, as forsome time past, only some little cordials to take when ready to faint.She seemed disappointed, when he told her she might yet live two or threedays; and said, she longed for dismission!--Life was not so easilyextinguished, she saw, as some imagined.--Death from grief, was, shebelieved, the slowest of deaths. But God's will must be done!--Her onlyprayer was now for submission to it: for she doubted not but by theDivine goodness she should be an happy creature, as soon as she could bedivested of these rags of mortality.
Of her own accord she mentioned you; which, till then, she had avoided todo. She asked, with great serenity, where you were?
I told her where, and your motives for being so near; and read to her afew lines of your's of this morning, in which you mention your wishes tosee her, your sincere affliction, and your resolution not to approach herwithout her consent.
I would have read more; but she said, Enough, Mr. Belford, enough!--Poorman, does his conscience begin to find him!--Then need not any body towish him a greater punishment!--May it work upon him to an happy purpose!
I took the liberty to say, that as she was in such a frame that nothingnow seemed capable of discomposing her, I could wish that you might havethe benefit of her exhortations, which, I dared to say, while you were soseriously affected, would have a greater force upon you than a thousandsermons; and how happy you would think yourself, if you could but receiveher forgiveness on your knees.
How can you think of such a thing, Mr. Belford? said she, with someemotion; my composure is owing, next to the Divine goodness blessing myearnest supplications for it, to the not seeing him. Yet let him knowthat I now again repeat, that I forgive him.--And may God Almighty,clasping her fingers, and lifting up her eyes, forgive him too; andperfect repentance, and sanctify it to him!--Tell him I say so! And tellhim, that if I could not say so with my whole heart, I should be veryuneasy, and think that my hopes of mercy were but weakly founded; andthat I had still, in my harboured resentment, some hankerings after alife which he has been the cause of shortening.
The divine creature then turning aside her head--Poor man, said she! Ionce could have loved him. This is saying more than ever I could say ofany other man out of my own family! Would he have permitted me to havebeen an humble instrument to have made him good, I think I could havemade him happy! But tell him not this if he be really penitent--it maytoo much affect him!--There she paused.--
Admirable creature!--Heavenly forgiver!--Then resuming--but pray tellhim, that if I could know that my death might be a mean to reclaim andsave him, it would be an inexpressible satisfaction to me!
But let me not, however, be made uneasy with the apprehension of seeinghim. I cannot bear to see him!
Just as she had done speaking, the minister, who had so often attendedher, sent up his name; and was admitted.
Being apprehensive that it would be with difficulty that you couldprevail upon that impetuous spirit of your's not to invade her in herdying hours, and of the agonies into which a surprise of this naturewould throw her, I thought this gentleman's visit afforded a properopportunity to renew the subject; and, (having asked her leave,)acquainted him with the topic we had been upon.
The good man urged that some condescensions were usually expected, onthese solemn occasions, from pious souls like her's, however satisfiedwith themselves, for the sake of showing the world, and for example-sake,that all resentments against those who had most injured them weresubdued; and if she would vouchsafe to a heart so truly penitent, as Ihad represented Mr. Lovelace's to be, that personal pardon, which I hadbeen pleading for there would be no room to suppose the least lurkingresentment remained; and it might have very happy effects upon thegentleman.
I have no lurking resentment, Sir, said she--this is not a time forresentment: and you will be the readier to believe me, when I can assureyou, (looking at me,) that even what I have most rejoiced in, the trulyfriendly love that has so long subsisted between my Miss Howe and herClarissa, although to my last gasp it will be the dearest to me of allthat is dear in this life, has already abated of its fervour; has alreadygiven place to supremer fervours; and shall the remembrance of Mr.Lovelace's personal insults, which I bless God never corrupted that mindwhich her friendship so much delighted, be stronger in these hours withme, then the remembrance of a love as pure as the human heart everboasted? Tell, therefore, the world, if you please, and (if, Mr.Belford, you think what I said to you before not strong enough,) tell thepoor man, that I not only forgive him, but have such earnest wishes forthe good of his soul, and that from consideration of its immortality,that could my penitence avail for more sins than my own, my last tearshould fall for him by whom I die!
Our eyes and hands expressed to us both what our lips could not utter.
Say not, then, proceeded she, nor let it be said, that my resentments areunsubdued!--And yet these eyes, lifted up to Heaven as witness to thetruth of what I have said, shall never, if I can help it, behold himmore!--For do you not consider, Sirs, how short my time is; what muchmore important subjects I have to employ it upon; and how unable I shouldbe, (so weak as I am,) to contend even with the avowed penitence of aperson in strong health, governed by passions unabated, and alwaysviolent?--And now I hope you will never urge me more on this subject?
The minister said, it were pity ever to urge this plea again.
You see, Lovelace, that I did not forget the office of a friend, inendeavouring to prevail upon her to give you her last forgivenesspersonally. And I hope, as she is so near her end, you will not invadeher in her last hours; since she must be extremely discomposed at such aninterview; and it might make her leave the world the sooner for it.
This reminds me of an expression which she used on your barbarous huntingof her at Smith's, on her return to her lodgings; and that with aserenity unexampled, (as Mrs. Lovick told me, considering the occasion,and the trouble given her by it, and her indisposition at the time;) hewill not let me die decently, said the angelic sufferer!--He will not letme enter into my Maker's presence with the composure that is required inentering into the drawing-room of an earthly prince!
I cannot, however, forbear to wish, that the heavenly creature could haveprevailed upon herself, in these her last hours, to see you; and that formy sake, as well as yours; for although I am determined never to beguilty of the crimes, which, till within these few past weeks haveblackened my former life; and for which, at present, I most heartily hatemyself; yet should I be less apprehensive of such a relapse, if wroughtupon by the solemnity which such an interview must have been attendedwith, you had become a reformed man: for no devil do I fear, but one inyour shape.
***
It is now eleven o'clock at night. The lady who retired to rest an hourago, is, as Mrs. Lovick tells me, in a sweet slumber.
I will close here. I hope I shall find her the better for it in themorning. Yet, alas! how frail is hope--How frail is life; when we areapt to build so much on every shadowy relief; although in such adesperate case as this, sitting down to reflect, we must know, that it isbut shadowy!
I will enclose Brand's horrid pedantry. And for once am aforehand withthy ravenous impatience.
Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 8 Page 65