MEDITATION

How long will ye vex my soul, and break me in pieces with words!

Be it indeed that I have erred, mine error remaineth with myself.

To her that is afflicted, pity should be shown from her friend.

But she that is ready to slip with her feet, is as a lamp despised in the

thought of them that are at ease.

There is a shame which bringeth sin, and there is a shame which bringeth

glory and grace.

Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, O ye, my friends! for the hand of

God hath touched me.

If your soul were in my soul's stead, I also could speak as ye do: I

could heap up words against you--

But I would strengthen you with my mouth, and the moving of my lips

should assuage your grief.

Why will ye break a leaf driven to and fro? Why will ye pursue the dry

stubble? Why will ye write bitter words against me, and make me possess

the iniquities of my youth?

Mercy is seasonable in the time of affliction, as clouds of rain in the

time of drought.

Are not my days few? Cease then, and let me alone, that I may take

comfort a little--before I go whence I shall not return; even to the land

of darkness, and shadow of death!

Let me add, that the excellent lady is informed, by a letter from Mrs.

Norton, that Colonel Morden is just arrived in England. He is now the

only person she wishes to see.

I expressed some jealousy upon it, lest he should have place given over

me in the executorship. She said, That she had no thoughts to do so now;

because such a trust, were he to accept of it, (which she doubted,)

might, from the nature of some of the papers which in that case would

necessarily pass through his hands, occasion mischiefs between my friend

and him, that would be worse than death for her to think of.

Poor Belton, I hear, is at death's door. A messenger is just come from

him, who tells me he cannot die till he sees me. I hope the poor fellow

will not go off yet; since neither his affairs of this world, nor for the

other, are in tolerable order. I cannot avoid going to the poor man.

Yet am unwilling to stir, till I have an assurance from you that you will

not disturb the lady: for I know he will be very loth to part with me,

when he gets me to him.

Tourville tells me how fast thou mendest: let me conjure thee not to

think of molesting this incomparable woman. For thy own sake I request

this, as well as for her's, and for the sake of thy given promise: for,

should she die within a few weeks, as I fear she will, it will be said,

and perhaps too justly, that thy visit has hastened her end.

In hopes thou wilt not, I wish thy perfect recovery: else that thou

mayest relapse, and be confined to thy bed.

Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 8 · 第 21 / 168 题