LETTER XXIX
COLONEL MORDEN[IN CONTINUATION.]TUESDAY MORNING, SEPT. 12.
The good Mrs. Norton is arrived, a little amended in her spirits; owingto the very posthumous letters, as I may call them, which you, Mr.Belford, as well as I, apprehended would have had fatal effects upon her.
I cannot but attribute this to the right turn of her mind. It seems shehas been inured to afflictions; and has lived in a constant hope of abetter life; and, having no acts of unkindness to the dear deceased toreproach herself with, is most considerately resolved to exert her utmostfortitude in order to comfort the sorrowing mother.
O Mr. Belford, how does the character of my dear departed cousin riseupon me from every mouth!--Had she been my own child, or my sister!--Butdo you think that the man who occasioned this great, this extended ruin--But I forbear.
The will is not to be looked into, till the funeral rites are performed.Preparations are making for the solemnity; and the servants, as well asprincipals of all the branches of the family, are put into closemourning.
I have seen Mr. Melvill. He is a serious and sensible man. I have givenhim particulars to go upon in the discourse he is to pronounce at thefuneral; but had the less need to do this, as I find he is extremely wellacquainted with the whole unhappy story; and was a personal admirer of mydear cousin, and a sincere lamenter of her misfortunes and death. Thereverend Dr. Lewen, who is but very lately dead, was his particularfriend, and had once intended to recommend him to her favour and notice.
***
I am just returned from attending the afflicted parents, in an effortthey made to see the corpse of their beloved child. They had requestedmy company, and that of the good Mrs. Norton. A last leave, the mothersaid, she must take.
An effort, however, it was, and no more. The moment they came in sightof the coffin, before the lid could be put aside, O my dear, said thefather, retreating, I cannot, I find I cannot bear it!--Had I--had I--hadI never been hard-hearted!--Then, turning round to his lady, he had butjust time to catch her in his arms, and prevent her sinking on the floor.--O, my dearest Life, said he, this is too much!--too much, indeed!--Letus--let us retire. Mrs. Norton, who (attracted by the awful receptacle)had but just left the good lady, hastened to her--Dear, dear woman, criedthe unhappy parent, flinging her arms about her neck, bear me, bear mehence!--O my child! my child! my own Clarissa Harlowe! thou pride of mylife so lately!--never, never more must I behold thee!
I supported the unhappy father, Mrs. Norton the sinking mother, into thenext parlour. She threw herself on a settee there; he into anelbow-chair by her--the good woman at her feet, her arms clasped roundher waist. The two mothers, I as may call them, of my beloved cousin,thus tenderly engaged! What a variety of distress in these woefulscenes!
The unhappy father, in endeavouring to comfort his lady, loaded himself.Would to God, my dear, said he, would to God I had no more to chargemyself with than you have!--You relented!--you would have prevailed uponme to relent!
The greater my fault, said she, when I knew that displeasure was carriedtoo high, to acquiesce as I did!--What a barbarous parent was I, to lettwo angry children make me forget that I was mother to a third--to such athird!
Mrs. Norton used arguments and prayers to comfort her--O, my dear Norton,answered the unhappy lady, you was the dear creature's more naturalmother!--Would to Heaven I had no more to answer for than you have!
Thus the unhappy pair unavailingly recriminated, till my cousin Herveyentered, and, with Mrs. Norton, conducted up to her own chamber theinconsolable mother. The two uncles, and Mr. Hervey, came in at the sametime, and prevailed upon the afflicted father to retire with them to his--both giving up all thoughts of ever seeing more the child whose deathwas so deservedly regretted by them.
Time only, Mr. Belford, can combat with advantage such a heavydeprivation as this. Advice will not do, while the loss is recent.Nature will have way given to it, (and so it ought,) till sorrow has in amanner exhausted itself; and then reason and religion will come inseasonably with their powerful aids, to raise the drooping heart.
I see here no face that is the same I saw at my first arrival. Proud andhaughty every countenance then, unyielding to entreaty; now, how greatlyare they humbled!--The utmost distress is apparent in every protractedfeature, and in every bursting muscle, of each disconsolate mourner.Their eyes, which so lately flashed anger and resentment, now are turnedto every one that approaches them, as if imploring pity!--Could everwilful hard-heartedness be more severely punished?
The following lines of Juvenal are, upon the whole applicable to thishouse and family; and I have revolved them many times since Sundayevening:
Humani generis mores tibi nosse volenti Sufficit una domus: paucos consumere dies, & Dicere te miserum, postquam illinc veneris, aude.
Let me add, that Mrs. Norton has communicated to the family theposthumous letter sent her. This letter affords a foundation for futureconsolation to them; but at present it has new pointed their grief, bymaking them reflect on their cruelty to so excellent a daughter, niece,and sister.* I am, dear Sir,
Your faithful, humble servant,WM. MORDEN.
* This letter contains in substance--her thanks to the good woman for hercare of her in her infancy; for her good instructions, and the excellentexample she had set her; with self-accusations of a vanity andpresumption, which lay lurking in her heart unknown to herself, till hercalamities (obliging her to look into herself) brought them to light.
She expatiates upon the benefit of afflictions to a mind modest, fearful,and diffident.
She comforts her on her early death; having finished, as she says, herprobatory course, at so early a time of life, when many are not ripenedby the sunshine of Divine Grace for a better, till they are fifty, sixty,or seventy years of age.
I hope, she says, that my father will grant the request I have made tohim in my last will, to let you pass the remainder of your days at myDairy-house, as it used to be called, where once I promised myself to behappy in you. Your discretion, prudence, and economy, my dear, goodwoman, proceeds she, will male your presiding over the concerns of thathouse as beneficial to them as it can be convenient to you. For yoursake, my dear Mrs. Norton, I hope they will make you this offer. And ifthey do, I hope you will accept it for theirs.
She remembers herself to her foster-brother in a very kind manner; andcharges her, for his sake, that she will not take too much to heart whathas befallen her.
She concludes as follows:
Remember me, in the last place, to all my kind well-wishers of youracquaintance; and to those I used to call My Poor. They will be God'spoor, if they trust in Him. I have taken such care, that I hope theywill not be losers by my death. Bid them, therefore, rejoice; and do youalso, my reverend comforter and sustainer, (as well in my darker as in myfairer days,) likewise rejoice, that I am so soon delivered from theevils that were before me; and that I am NOW, when this comes to yourhands, as I humbly trust, exulting in the mercies of a gracious God, whohas conducted an end to all my temptations and distresses; and who, Imost humbly trust, will, in his own good time, give us a joyful meetingin the regions of eternal blessedness.