LETTER XLVIII
MR. BELFORD, TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ.FRIDAY MORN. SEPT. 1.
It is surprising, that I, a man, should be so much affected as I was, atsuch an object as is the subject of my former letter; who also, in mylate uncle's case, and poor Belton's had the like before me, and thedirecting of it: when she, a woman, of so weak and tender a frame, whowas to fill it (so soon perhaps to fill it!) could give orders about it,and draw out the devices upon it, and explain them with so little concernas the women tell me she did to them last night after I was gone.
I really was ill, and restless all night. Thou wert the subject of myexecration, as she was of my admiration, all the time I was quite awake:and, when I dozed, I dreamt of nothing but of flying hour-glasses,deaths-heads, spades, mattocks, and eternity; the hint of her devices (asgiven me by Mrs. Smith) running in my head.
However, not being able to keep away from Smith's, I went thither aboutseven. The lady was just gone out: she had slept better, I found, thanI, though her solemn repository was under her window, not far from herbed-side.
I was prevailed upon by Mrs. Smith and her nurse Shelburne (Mrs. Lovickbeing abroad with her) to go up and look at the devices. Mrs. Lovick hassince shown me a copy of the draught by which all was ordered; and I willgive thee a sketch of the symbols.
The principal device, neatly etched on a plate of white metal, is acrowned serpent, with its tail in its mouth, forming a ring, the emblemof eternity: and in the circle made by it is this inscription:
CLARISSA HARLOWE.
April x.
[Then the year.]
AETAT. XIX.
For ornaments: at top, an hour-glass, winged. At bottom, an urn.
Under the hour-glass, on another plate, this inscription:
HERE the wicked cease from troubling: and HERE the weary be at rest. Job. iii. 17.
Over the urn, near the bottom:
Turn again unto thy rest, O my soul! for the Lord hath rewarded thee: And why? Thou hast delivered my soul from death; mine eyes from tears; and my feet from falling. Ps. cxvi. 7, 8.
Over this is the head of a white lily snapt short off, and just fallingfrom the stalk; and this inscription over that, between the principalplate and the lily:
The days of man are but as grass. For he flourisheth as a flower of the field: for, as soon as the wind goeth over it, it is gone; and the place thereof shall know it no more. Ps. ciii. 15, 16.
She excused herself to the women, on the score of her youth, and beingused to draw for her needleworks, for having shown more fancy than wouldperhaps be thought suitable on so solemn an occasion.
The date, April 10, she accounted for, as not being able to tell what herclosing-day would be; and as that was the fatal day of her leaving herfather's house.
She discharged the undertaker's bill after I went away, with as muchcheerfulness as she could ever have paid for the clothes she sold topurchase this her palace: for such she called it; reflecting upon herselffor the expensiveness of it, saying, that they might observe in her, thatpride left not poor mortals to the last: but indeed she did not know buther father would permit it, when furnished, to be carried down to bedeposited with her ancestors; and, in that case, she ought not todiscredit those ancestors in her appearance amongst them.
It is covered with fine black cloth, and lined with white satin; soon,she said, to be tarnished with viler earth than any it could be coveredby.
The burial-dress was brought home with it. The women had curiosityenough, I suppose, to see her open that, if she did open it.--And,perhaps, thou wouldst have been glad to have been present to have admiredit too!--
Mrs. Lovick said, she took the liberty to blame her; and wished theremoval of such an object--from her bed-chamber, at least: and was soaffected with the noble answer she made upon it, that she entered it downthe moment she left her.
'To persons in health, said she, this sight may be shocking; and thepreparation, and my unconcernedness in it, may appear affected: but tome, who have had so gradual a weaning-time from the world, and so muchreason not to love it, I must say, I dwell on, I indulge, (and, strictlyspeaking, I enjoy,) the thoughts of death. For, believe me,' [lookingstedfastly at the awful receptacle,] 'believe what at this instant I feelto be most true, That there is such a vast superiority of weight andimportance in the thought of death, and its hoped-for happy consequences,that it in a manner annihilates all other considerations and concerns.Believe me, my good friends, it does what nothing else can do: it teachesme, by strengthening in me the force of the divinest example, to forgivethe injuries I have received; and shuts out the remembrance of past evilsfrom my soul.'
And now let me ask thee, Lovelace, Dost thou think that, when the timeshall come that thou shalt be obliged to launch into the boundless oceanof eternity, thou wilt be able (any more than poor Belton) to act thypart with such true heroism, as this sweet and tender blossom of a womanhas manifested, and continues to manifest!
Oh! no! it cannot be!--And why can't it be?--The reason is evident: shehas no wilful errors to look back upon with self-reproach--and her mindis strengthened by the consolations which flow from that religiousrectitude which has been the guide of all her actions; and which hastaught her rather to choose to be a sufferer than an aggressor!
This was the support of the divine Socrates, as thou hast read. When ledto execution, his wife lamenting that he should suffer being innocent,Thou fool, said he, wouldst thou wish me to be guilty!