Volume IX Part 14 (1/2)
I am just returned from attending the afflicted parents, in an effort they made to see the corpse of their beloved child. They had requested my company, and that of the good Mrs. Norton. A last leave, the mother said, she must take.
An effort, however, it was, and no more. The moment they came in sight of the coffin, before the lid could be put aside, O my dear, said the father, retreating, I cannot, I find I cannot bear it!--Had I--had I--had I never been hard-hearted!--Then, turning round to his lady, he had but just 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!--Let us--let us retire. Mrs. Norton, who (attracted by the awful receptacle) had but just left the good lady, hastened to her--Dear, dear woman, cried the unhappy parent, flinging her arms about her neck, bear me, bear me hence!--O my child! my child! my own Clarissa Harlowe! thou pride of my life so lately!--never, never more must I behold thee!
I supported the unhappy father, Mrs. Norton the sinking mother, into the next parlour. She threw herself on a settee there; he into an elbow-chair by her--the good woman at her feet, her arms clasped round her waist. The two mothers, I as may call them, of my beloved cousin, thus tenderly engaged! What a variety of distress in these woeful scenes!
The unhappy father, in endeavouring to comfort his lady, loaded himself.
Would to G.o.d, my dear, said he, would to G.o.d I had no more to charge myself with than you have!--You relented!--you would have prevailed upon me to relent!
The greater my fault, said she, when I knew that displeasure was carried too high, to acquiesce as I did!--What a barbarous parent was I, to let two angry children make me forget that I was mother to a third--to such a third!
Mrs. Norton used arguments and prayers to comfort her--O, my dear Norton, answered the unhappy lady, you was the dear creature's more natural mother!--Would to Heaven I had no more to answer for than you have!
Thus the unhappy pair unavailingly recriminated, till my cousin Hervey entered, and, with Mrs. Norton, conducted up to her own chamber the inconsolable mother. The two uncles, and Mr. Hervey, came in at the same time, and prevailed upon the afflicted father to retire with them to his --both giving up all thoughts of ever seeing more the child whose death was so deservedly regretted by them.
Time only, Mr. Belford, can combat with advantage such a heavy deprivation 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 a manner exhausted itself; and then reason and religion will come in seasonably 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 and haughty every countenance then, unyielding to entreaty; now, how greatly are they humbled!--The utmost distress is apparent in every protracted feature, and in every bursting muscle, of each disconsolate mourner.
Their eyes, which so lately flashed anger and resentment, now are turned to every one that approaches them, as if imploring pity!--Could ever wilful hard-heartedness be more severely punished?
The following lines of Juvenal are, upon the whole applicable to this house and family; and I have revolved them many times since Sunday evening:
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 the posthumous letter sent her. This letter affords a foundation for future consolation to them; but at present it has new pointed their grief, by making 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 her care of her in her infancy; for her good instructions, and the excellent example she had set her; with self-accusations of a vanity and presumption, which lay lurking in her heart unknown to herself, till her calamities (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, her probatory course, at so early a time of life, when many are not ripened by the suns.h.i.+ne 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 to him in my last will, to let you pa.s.s the remainder of your days at my Dairy-house, as it used to be called, where once I promised myself to be happy in you. Your discretion, prudence, and economy, my dear, good woman, proceeds she, will male your presiding over the concerns of that house as beneficial to them as it can be convenient to you. For your sake, my dear Mrs. Norton, I hope they will make you this offer. And if they do, I hope you will accept it for theirs.
She remembers herself to her foster-brother in a very kind manner; and charges her, for his sake, that she will not take too much to heart what has befallen her.
She concludes as follows:
Remember me, in the last place, to all my kind well-wishers of your acquaintance; and to those I used to call My Poor. They will be G.o.d's poor, if they trust in Him. I have taken such care, that I hope they will not be losers by my death. Bid them, therefore, rejoice; and do you also, my reverend comforter and sustainer, (as well in my darker as in my fairer days,) likewise rejoice, that I am so soon delivered from the evils that were before me; and that I am NOW, when this comes to your hands, as I humbly trust, exulting in the mercies of a gracious G.o.d, who has conducted an end to all my temptations and distresses; and who, I most humbly trust, will, in his own good time, give us a joyful meeting in the regions of eternal blessedness.
LETTER x.x.x
COLONEL MORDEN [IN CONTINUATION.]
THURSDAY NIGHT, SEPT. 14.