Thy servant tells me that thou are plaguily grieved at the old fellow’s
departure.
I can’t say, but thou mayest look as if thou wert; harassed as thou
hast been for a number of days and nights with a close attendance upon
a dying man, beholding his drawing-on hour—pretending, for decency’s
sake, to whine over his excruciating pangs; to be in the way to answer
a thousand impertinent inquiries after the health of a man thou
wishedest to die—to pray by him—for so once thou wrotest to me!—To read
by him—to be forced to join in consultation with a crew of solemn and
parading doctors, and their officious zanies, the apothecaries, joined
with the butcherly tribe of scarficators; all combined to carry on the
physical farce, and to cut out thongs both from his flesh and his
estate—to have the superadded apprehension of dividing thy interest in
what he shall leave with a crew of eager-hoping, never-to-be-satisfied
relations, legatees, and the devil knows who, of private gratifiers of
passions laudable and illaudable—in these circumstances, I wonder not
that thou lookest before servants, (as little grieved as thou after
heirship,) as if thou indeed wert grieved; and as if the most wry-fac’d
woe had befallen thee.
Then, as I have often thought, the reflection that must naturally arise
from such mortifying objects, as the death of one with whom we have
been familiar, must afford, when we are obliged to attend it in its
slow approaches, and in its face-twisting pangs, that it will one day
be our own case, goes a great way to credit the appearance of grief.
And that it is this, seriously reflected upon, may temporally give a
fine air of sincerity to the wailings of lively widows, heart-exulting
heirs, and residuary legatees of all denominations; since, by keeping
down the inward joy, those interesting reflections must sadden the
aspect, and add an appearance of real concern to the assumed sables.
Well, but, now thou art come to the reward of all thy watchings,
anxieties, and close attendances, tell me what it is; tell me if it
compensate thy trouble, and answer thy hope?
As to myself, thou seest, by the gravity of my style, how the subject
has helped to mortify me. But the necessity I am under of committing
either speedy matrimony, or a rape, has saddened over my gayer
prospects, and, more than the case itself, contributed to make me
sympathize with the present joyful-sorrow.
Adieu, Jack, I must be soon out of my pain; and my Clarissa shall be
soon out of her’s—for so does the arduousness of the case require.