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<h2> LETTER I </h2>
<p>MR. BELFORD [IN CONTINUATION.] SOHO, SIX O'CLOCK, SEPT. 7.</p>
<p>The lady is still alive. The Colonel having just sent his servant to let
me know that she inquired after me about an hour ago, I am dressing to
attend her. Joel begs of me to dispatch him back, though but with one line
to gratify your present impatience. He expects, he says, to find you at
Knightsbridge, let him make what haste he can back; and, if he has not a
line or two to pacify you, he is afraid you will pistol him; for he
apprehends that you are hardly yourself. I therefore dispatch this, and
will have another ready, as soon as I can, with particulars.—But you
must have a little patience; for how can I withdraw myself every half hour
to write, if I am admitted to the lady's presence, or if I am with the
Colonel?</p>
<p>SMITH'S, EIGHT IN THE MORNING.</p>
<p>The lady is in a slumber. Mrs. Lovick, who sat up with her, says she had a
better night than was expected; for although she slept little, she seemed
easy; and the easier for the pious frame she was in; all her waking
moments being taken up in devotion, or in an ejaculatory silence; her
hands and eyes often lifted up, and her lips moving with a fervour worthy
of these her last hours.</p>
<p>TEN O'CLOCK.</p>
<p>The Colonel being earnest to see his cousin as soon as she awoke, we were
both admitted. We observed in her, as soon as we entered, strong symptoms
of her approaching dissolution, notwithstanding what the women had
flattered us with from her last night's tranquillity.—The Colonel
and I, each loth to say what we thought, looked upon one another with
melancholy countenances.</p>
<p>The Colonel told her he should send a servant to her uncle Antony's for
some papers he had left there; and asked if she had any commands that way.</p>
<p>She thought not, she said, speaking more inwardly than she did the day
before. She had indeed a letter ready to be sent to her good Norton; and
there was a request intimated in it. But it was time enough, if the
request were signified to those whom it concerned when all was over.
—However, it might be sent them by the servant who was going that
way. And she caused it to be given to the Colonel for that purpose.</p>
<p>Her breath being very short, she desired another pillow. Having two
before, this made her in a manner sit up in her bed; and she spoke then
with more distinctness; and, seeing us greatly concerned, forgot her own
sufferings to comfort us; and a charming lecture she gave us, though a
brief one, upon the happiness of a timely preparation, and upon the
hazards of a late repentance, when the mind, as she observed, was so much
weakened, as well as the body, as to render a poor soul hardly able to
contend with its natural infirmities.</p>
<p>I beseech ye, my good friends, proceeded she, mourn not for one who mourns
not, nor has cause to mourn, for herself. On the contrary, rejoice with
me, that all my worldly troubles are so near to their end. Believe me,
Sirs, that I would not, if I might, choose to live, although the
pleasantest part of my life were to come over again: and yet eighteen
years of it, out of nineteen, have been very pleasant. To be so much
exposed to temptation, and to be so liable to fail in the trial, who would
not rejoice that all her dangers are over?—All I wished was pardon
and blessing from my dear parents. Easy as my departure seems promised to
be, it would have been still easier, had I that pleasure. BUT GOD ALMIGHTY
WOULD NOT LET ME DEPEND FOR COMFORT UPON ANY BUT HIMSELF.</p>
<p>She then repeated her request, in the most earnest manner, to her cousin,
that he would not heighten her fault, by seeking to avenge her death; to
me, that I would endeavour to make up all breaches, and use the power I
had with my friend, to prevent all future mischiefs from him, as well as
that which this trust might give me to prevent any to him.</p>
<p>She made some excuses to her cousin, for not having been able to alter her
will, to join him in the executorship with me; and to me, for the trouble
she had given, and yet should give me.</p>
<p>She had fatigued herself so much, (growing sensibly weaker) that she sunk
her head upon her pillows, ready to faint; and we withdrew to the window,
looking upon one another; but could not tell what to say; and yet both
seemed inclinable to speak: but the motion passed over in silence. Our
eyes only spoke; and that in a manner neither's were used to—mine,
at least, not till I knew this admirable creature.</p>
<p>The Colonel withdrew to dismiss his messenger, and send away the letter to
Mrs. Norton. I took the opportunity to retire likewise; and to write thus
far. And Joel returning to take it, I now close here.</p>
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