She is somewhat better than she was. The doctor had been here, and
thinks she will hold out yet a day or two. He has ordered her, as for
some 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 three
days; and said, she longed for dismission!--Life was not so easily
extinguished, she saw, as some imagined.--Death from grief, was, she
believed, the slowest of deaths. But God's will must be done!--Her only
prayer was now for submission to it: for she doubted not but by the
Divine goodness she should be an happy creature, as soon as she could be
divested of these rags of mortality.
Of her own accord she mentioned you; which, till then, she had avoided to
do. She asked, with great serenity, where you were?
I told her where, and your motives for being so near; and read to her a
few lines of your's of this morning, in which you mention your wishes to
see her, your sincere affliction, and your resolution not to approach her
without her consent.
I would have read more; but she said, Enough, Mr. Belford, enough!--Poor
man, does his conscience begin to find him!--Then need not any body to
wish 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 nothing
now seemed capable of discomposing her, I could wish that you might have
the benefit of her exhortations, which, I dared to say, while you were so
seriously affected, would have a greater force upon you than a thousand
sermons; and how happy you would think yourself, if you could but receive
her forgiveness on your knees.
How can you think of such a thing, Mr. Belford? said she, with some
emotion; my composure is owing, next to the Divine goodness blessing my
earnest supplications for it, to the not seeing him. Yet let him know
that I now again repeat, that I forgive him.--And may God Almighty,
clasping her fingers, and lifting up her eyes, forgive him too; and
perfect repentance, and sanctify it to him!--Tell him I say so! And tell
him, that if I could not say so with my whole heart, I should be very
uneasy, and think that my hopes of mercy were but weakly founded; and
that I had still, in my harboured resentment, some hankerings after a
life which he has been the cause of shortening.
The divine creature then turning aside her head--Poor man, said she! I
once could have loved him. This is saying more than ever I could say of
any other man out of my own family! Would he have permitted me to have
been an humble instrument to have made him good, I think I could have
made him happy! But tell him not this if he be really penitent--it may
too much affect him!--There she paused.--
Admirable creature!--Heavenly forgiver!--Then resuming--but pray tell
him, that if I could know that my death might be a mean to reclaim and
save him, it would be an inexpressible satisfaction to me!
But let me not, however, be made uneasy with the apprehension of seeing
him. I cannot bear to see him!
Just as she had done speaking, the minister, who had so often attended
her, sent up his name; and was admitted.
Being apprehensive that it would be with difficulty that you could
prevail upon that impetuous spirit of your's not to invade her in her
dying hours, and of the agonies into which a surprise of this nature
would throw her, I thought this gentleman's visit afforded a proper
opportunity 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, on
these solemn occasions, from pious souls like her's, however satisfied
with themselves, for the sake of showing the world, and for example-sake,
that all resentments against those who had most injured them were
subdued; and if she would vouchsafe to a heart so truly penitent, as I
had represented Mr. Lovelace's to be, that personal pardon, which I had
been pleading for there would be no room to suppose the least lurking
resentment remained; and it might have very happy effects upon the
gentleman.
I have no lurking resentment, Sir, said she--this is not a time for
resentment: and you will be the readier to believe me, when I can assure
you, (looking at me,) that even what I have most rejoiced in, the truly
friendly love that has so long subsisted between my Miss Howe and her
Clarissa, although to my last gasp it will be the dearest to me of all
that is dear in this life, has already abated of its fervour; has already
given place to supremer fervours; and shall the remembrance of Mr.
Lovelace's personal insults, which I bless God never corrupted that mind
which her friendship so much delighted, be stronger in these hours with
me, then the remembrance of a love as pure as the human heart ever
boasted? Tell, therefore, the world, if you please, and (if, Mr.
Belford, you think what I said to you before not strong enough,) tell the
poor man, that I not only forgive him, but have such earnest wishes for
the good of his soul, and that from consideration of its immortality,
that could my penitence avail for more sins than my own, my last tear
should 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 are
unsubdued!--And yet these eyes, lifted up to Heaven as witness to the
truth of what I have said, shall never, if I can help it, behold him
more!--For do you not consider, Sirs, how short my time is; what much
more important subjects I have to employ it upon; and how unable I should
be, (so weak as I am,) to contend even with the avowed penitence of a
person in strong health, governed by passions unabated, and always
violent?--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, in
endeavouring to prevail upon her to give you her last forgiveness
personally. And I hope, as she is so near her end, you will not invade
her in her last hours; since she must be extremely discomposed at such an
interview; and it might make her leave the world the sooner for it.
This reminds me of an expression which she used on your barbarous hunting
of her at Smith's, on her return to her lodgings; and that with a
serenity unexampled, (as Mrs. Lovick told me, considering the occasion,
and the trouble given her by it, and her indisposition at the time;) he
will not let me die decently, said the angelic sufferer!--He will not let
me enter into my Maker's presence with the composure that is required in
entering into the drawing-room of an earthly prince!
I cannot, however, forbear to wish, that the heavenly creature could have
prevailed upon herself, in these her last hours, to see you; and that for
my sake, as well as yours; for although I am determined never to be
guilty of the crimes, which, till within these few past weeks have
blackened my former life; and for which, at present, I most heartily hate
myself; yet should I be less apprehensive of such a relapse, if wrought
upon by the solemnity which such an interview must have been attended
with, you had become a reformed man: for no devil do I fear, but one in
your shape.
***
It is now eleven o'clock at night. The lady who retired to rest an hour
ago, 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 the
morning. Yet, alas! how frail is hope--How frail is life; when we are
apt to build so much on every shadowy relief; although in such a
desperate case as this, sitting down to reflect, we must know, that it is
but shadowy!
I will enclose Brand's horrid pedantry. And for once am aforehand with
thy ravenous impatience.