Although Mrs Norton, as I have hinted, knows my whole mind in this respect; yet it may be proper to mention, in this last solemn act, that my intention is, that this fund be entirely set apart and appropriated to relieve temporarily, from the interest thereof, (as I dare say it will be put out to the best advantage,) or even from the principal, if need be, the honest, industrious, labouring poor only; when sickness, lameness, unforeseen losses, or other accidents, disable them from following their lawful callings; or to assist such honest people of large families as shall have a child of good inclinations to put out to service, trade, or husbandry.

It has always been a rule with me, in my little donations, to endeavour to aid and set forward the sober and industrious poor. Small helps, if seasonably afforded, will do for such; and so the fund may be of more extensive benefit; an ocean of wealth will not be sufficient for the idle and dissolute: whom, therefore, since they will be always in want, it will be no charity to relieve, if worthier creatures would, by relieving the others, be deprived of such as sistance as may set the wheels of their industry going, and put them in a sphere of useful action. But it is my express will and direction, that let this fund come out to be ever so considerable, it shall be applied only in support of the temporary exigencies of the persons I have described; and that no one family or person receive from it, at one time, or in one year, more than the sum of twenty pounds.

It is my will and desire, that the set of jewels which was my grandmother's, and presented to me, soon after her death, by my grandfather, be valued; and the worth of them paid to my executor, if any of my family choose to have them; or otherwise, that they be sold, and go to the augmentation of my poor's fund.—But if they may be deemed an equivalent for the sums my father was pleased to advance to me since the death of my grandfather, I desire that they may be given up to him.

I presume that the diamond necklace, solitaire, and buckles, which were properly my own, presented by my mother's uncle, Sir Josias Brookland, will not be purchased by any one of my family, for a too obvious reason: in this case I desire that they may be sent to my executor, and that he will dispose of them to the best advantage, and apply the money to the uses of my will.

In the beginning of this tedious writing, I referred to the latter part of it, the naming of the subject of the discourse which I wished might be delivered at my funeral, if permitted to be interred with my ancestors. I think the following will be suitable to my case. I hope the alteration of the words her and she, for him and he, may be allowable.

Job xv. 31, 32, 33.

"Let not her that is deceived trust in vanity; for vanity shall be her recompence. It shall be accomplished before her time; and her branch shall not be green. She shall shake off her unripe grape as

the vine, and shall cast off her flower as the olive.""

But if I am to be interred in town, let only the usual burial-service be read over my corpse. If my body be permitted to be carried down, I bequeath ten pounds to be given to the poor of the parish, at the discretion of the churchwardens, within a fortnight after my interment.

If any necessary matter be omitted in this my will, or if anything appear doubtful or contradictory, as possibly may be the case; since besides my inexperience in these matters, I am now, at this time, very weak and ill, having put off the finishing hand a little too long, in hopes of obtaining the last forgiveness of my honoured friends; in which case I should have acknowledged the favour with a suitable warmth of duty, and filled up some blanks which I left to the very last,† in a more agreeable manner to myself, than now I have been enabled to do

in case of such omissions and imperfections, I desire that my cousin Morden will be so good as to join with Mr Belford in considering them, and in comparing them with what I have more explicitly written: and if, after that, any doubt remain, that they will be pleased to apply to Miss Howe, who knows my whole heart: and I desire that the construction of these three may be established: and I hereby establish it, provided it be unanimous, and direct it to be put in force, as if I had so written and determined myself.

And now, O my blessed REDEEMER, do I, with a lively faith, humbly lay hold of thy meritorious death and sufferings; hoping to be washed clean in thy precious blood from all my sins in the bare hope of the happy consequences of which, how light do those sufferings seem (grievous as they were at the time) which, I confidently trust, will be a mean, by thy grace, to work out for me a more exceeding and eternal weight of glory!

CLARISSA HARLOWE.

Signed, sealed, published, and declared, the day and year above-written, by the said Clarissa Harlowe, as her last will and testament; contained in seven sheets of paper, all written with her own hand, and every sheet signed and sealed by herself, in the presence of us, JOHN WILLIAMS, ARTHUR BEDALL, ELIZABETH SWANTON.

+ See Letter CCCLXI. of this Vol.

LETTER CCCCXV.

COLONEL MORDEN TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.

Sat. Sept. 16. I HAVE been employed in a most melancholy task in reading the will of the dear deceased.

The unhappy mother and Mrs Norton chose to be absent on the affecting occasion. But Mrs Harlowe made it her earnest request that every article of it should be fulfilled.

They were all extremely touched with the preamble.

The first words of the will-"I, Clarissa Harlowe, now by strange, melancholy accidents, lodging," &c. drew tears from some, sighs from all.

The directions for her funeral, in case she were or were not permitted to be carried down; the mention of her orders having been given for the manner of her being laid out, and the presence of mind so visible throughout the whole, obtained their admiration, expressed by hands and eyes lifted up, and by falling tears.

When I read the direction, "That her body was not to be viewed, except any of her relations should vouchsafe, for the last time, to look upon her;" they turned away, and turned to me, three or four times alternately. Mrs Hervey and Miss Arabella sobbed; the uncles wiped their eyes; the brother looked down; the father wrung his hands.

I was obliged to stop at the words," That she was nobody's."

But when I came to the address to be made to the accursed man, " if he were not to be diverted from seeing her dead, whom ONCE before he had seen in a manner dead- -"execration, and either vows or wishes of revenge, filled every mouth.

These were still more fervently renewed, when they came to hear read her forgiveness of even this man.

You remember, sir, on our first reading of the will in town, the observations I made on the foul play which it is evident the excellent creature met with from this abandoned man, and what I said upon the occasion. I am not used to repeat things of that nature.

The dear creature's noble contempt of the nothing, as she as nobly calls it, about which she had been giving such particular directions, to wit, her body; and her apologizing for the particularity of those directions from the circumstances she was in-had the same, and as strong an effect upon me, as when I first read the animated paragraph; and, pointed by my eye, (by turns cast upon them all,) affected them all.

When the article was read which bequeathed

to the father the grandfather's estate, and the reason assigned for it, (so generous and so dutiful,) the father could sit no longer; but withdrew, wiping his eyes, and lifting up his spread hands at Mr James Harlowe; who rose to attend him to the door, as Arabella likewise did-All he could say-O son! son!-0 girl! girl!-as if he reproached them for the parts they had acted, and put him upon acting.

But yet, on some occasions, this brother and sister shewed themselves to be true will-dispu

tants.

Let tongue and eyes express what they will, Mr Belford, the first reading of a will, where a person dies worth anything considerable, generally affords a true test of the relations' love to the deceased.

The clothes, the thirty guineas for mourning to Mrs Norton, with the recommendation of the good woman for housekeeper at The Grove, were thought sufficient, had the article of 600l. which was called monstrous, been omitted. Some other passages in the will were called flights, and such whimsies as distinguish people of imagination from those of judgment.

My cousin Dolly Hervey was grudged the library. Miss Harlowe said, That as she and her sister never bought the same books, she would take that to herself, and would make it up to her cousin Dolly one way or other.

I intend, Mr Belford, to save you the trouble of interposing-the library shall be my cousin Dolly's.

Mrs Hervey could hardly keep her seat. On this occasion, however, she only said, That her late dear and ever-dear niece, was too good to her and hers. But, at another time, she declared, with tears, that she could not forgive herself for a letter she wrote,* looking at Miss Arabella, whom, it seems, unknown to anybody, she had consulted before she wrote it, and which, she said, must have wounded a spirit, that now she saw had been too deeply wounded before.

O my aunt, said Arabella, no more of that!Who would have thought that the dear creature had been such a penitent?

Mr John and Mr Antony Harlowe were so much affected with the articles in their favour, (bequeathed to them without a word or hint of reproach or recrimination,) that they broke out into self-accusations; and lamented that their sweet niece, as they called her, was now got above all grateful acknowledgment and returns. Indeed, the mutual upbraidings and grief of all present, upon those articles in which every one was remembered for good, so often interrupted me, that the reading took up above six hours. But curses upon the accursed man were a refuge to which they often resorted to exonerate themselves.

How wounding a thing, Mr Belford, is a generous and well-distinguished forgiveness! What revenge can be more effectual, and more noble, were revenge intended, and were it wished to strike remorse into a guilty or ungrateful heart! But my dear cousin's motives were all duty and love. She seems, indeed, to have been, as much as mortal could be, LOVE itself. Love sublimed by a purity, by a true delicacy, that hardly any woman before her could boast of. O Mr Belford, what an example would she have given in every station of life, (as wife, mother, mistress, friend,) had her lot fallen upon a man blessed with a mind like her own!

The 6001. bequeathed to Mrs Norton, the library to Miss Hervey, and the remembrances to Miss Howe, were not the only articles grudged. Yet to what purpose did they regret the ресиniary bequests, when the poor's fund, and not themselves, would have had the benefit, had not those legacies been bequeathed?

But enough passed to convince me that my cousin was absolutely right in her choice of an executor out of the family. Had she chosen one in it, I dare say that her will would have been no more regarded than if it had been the will of a dead king; than that of Louis XIV. in particular; so flagrantly broken through by his nephew the Duke of Orleans before he was cold. The only will of that monarch, perhaps, which was ever disputed.

But little does Mr James Harlowe think that, while he is grasping at hundreds, he will, most probably, lose thousands, if he be my survivor. A man of a spirit so selfish and narrow shall not be my heir.

You will better conceive, Mr Belford, than I can express, how much they were touched at the hint that the dear creature had been obliged to part with some of her clothes.

Silent reproach seized every one of them when I came to the passage where she mentions that she deferred filling up some blanks, in hopes of receiving their last blessing and forgiveness.

I will only add, that they could not bear to hear read the concluding part, so solemnly addressed to her Redeemer. They all arose from their seats, and crowded out of the apartment we were in; and then, as I afterwards found, separated, in order to seek that consolation in solitary retirement, which, though they could not hope for from their own reflections, yet, at the time, they had less reason to expect in each other's company. I am, sir,

Your faithful and obedient servant,
WILLIAM MORDEN.

I AM very apprehensive that the affair between Mr Lovelace and the late excellent Miss Clarissa Harlowe will be attended with farther bad consequences, notwithstanding her dying injunctions to the contrary. I would, therefore, humbly propose that your lordship, and his other relations, will forward the purpose your kinsman lately had to go abroad; where I hope he will stay till all is blown over. But as he will not stir, if he know the true motives of your wishes, the avowed inducement, as I hinted once to Mr Mowbray, may be such as respects his own health both of person and mind. To Mr Mowbray and Mr Tourville all countries are alike; and they perhaps will accompany him.

I am glad to hear that he is in a way of recovery; but this the rather induces me to press the matter. I think no time should be lost.

Your lordship has heard that I have the honour to be the executor of this admirable lady's last will. I transcribe from it the following paragraph.

He then transcribes the article which so gratefully mentions this nobleman, and the ladies of his family, in relation to the rings she bequeaths them, about which he desires their commands.

My lord having the gout in his right hand, his lordship, and Lady Sarah, and Lady Betty, have commanded me to inform you, that, before your letter came, Mr Lovelace was preparing for a foreign tour. We shall endeavour to hasten him away on the motives you suggest.

We are all extremely affected with the dear lady's death. Lady Betty and Lady Sarah have been indisposed ever since they heard of it. They had pleased themselves, as had my sister and self, with the hopes of cultivating her acquaintance and friendship after he was gone abroad, upon her own terms. Her kind remembrance of each of us has renewed, though it could not heighten, our regrets for so irreparable a loss. We shall order Mr Finch, our goldsmith, to wait on you. He has our directions about the rings. They will be long, long worn in memory of the dear testatrix.

THIS Collection having run into a much greater length than was wished, it is thought proper to omit several letters that passed between Colonel Morden, Miss Howe, Mr Belford, and Mr Hickman, in relation to the execution of the lady's will, &c.

It is, however, necessary to observe, on this subject, that the unhappy mother, being supported by the two uncles, influenced the afflicted father to over-rule all his son's objections, and to direct a literal observation of the will; and at the same time to give up all the sums which he was empowered by it to reimburse himself; as also to take upon himself to defray the funeral

expenses.

Mr Belford so much obliges Miss Howe by his steadiness, equity, and dispatch, and by his readiness to contribute to the directed collection, that she voluntarily entered into a correspondence with him, as the representative of her beloved friend. In the course of which, he communicated to her (in confidence) the letters which passed between him and Mr Lovelace, and, by Colonel Morden's consent, those which passed between that gentleman and himself.

He sent, with the first parcel of letters which he had transcribed out of short-hand for Miss Howe, a letter to Mr Hickman, dated the 16th of September, in which he expresses himself as follows:

But I ought, sir, in this parcel to have kept out one letter. It is that which relates to the interview between yourself and Mr Lovelace, at Mr Dormer's, in which Mr Lovelace treats you with an air of levity, which neither your person, your character, nor your commission, deserved ; but which was his usual way of treating every one whose business he was not pleased with. I hope, sir, you have too much greatness of mind to be disturbed at the contents of this letter, should Miss Howe communicate them to you; and the rather, as it is impossible that you should suffer with her on that account.

Mr Belford then excuses Mr Lovelace as a good-natured man with all his faults; and gives instances of his still greater freedoms with him

self.

To this Mr Hickman answers, in his letter of the 18th:

As to Mr Lovelace's treatment of me in the letter you are pleased to mention, I shall not be

concerned at it, whatever it be. I went to him prepared to expect odd behaviour from him; and was not disappointed. I argue to myself, in all such cases as this, as Miss Howe, from her everdear friend, argues, That if the reflections thrown upon me are just, I ought not only to forgive them, but endeavour to profit by them; if unjust, that I ought to despise them, and the reflector too, since it would be inexcusable to strengthen by anger an enemy whose malice might be disarmed by contempt. And, moreover, I should be almost sorry to find myself spoken well of by a man who could treat, as he treated, a lady who was an ornament to her sex and to human nature.

I thank you, however, sir, for your consideration for me in this particular, and for your whole letter, which gives me so desirable an instance of the friendship which you assured me of when I was last in town; and which I as cordially embrace as wish to cultivate.

Miss Howe, in hers of the 20th, acknowledging the receipt of the letters, and papers, and legacies, sent with Mr Belford's letter to Mr Hickman, assures him, That no use shall be made of his communications, but what he shall approve of.

He had mentioned, with compassion, the distresses of the Harlowe family-Persons of a pitiful nature, says she, may pity them. I am not one of those. You, I think, pity the infernal man likewise; while I, from my heart, grudge him his frenzy, because it deprives him of that remorse, which, I hope, on his recovery, will never leave him. At times, sir, let me tell you, that I hate your whole sex for his sake; even men of unblamable characters, whom, at those times, I cannot but look upon as persons I have not yet found out.

If my dear creature's personal jewels be sent up to you for sale, I desire that I may be the purchaser of them, at the highest price of the necklace and solitaire particularly.

Oh! what tears did the perusal of my beloved's will cost me!-But I must not touch upon the heart-piercing subject. I can neither take it up, nor quit it, but with execration of the man whom all the world must execrate.

Mr Belford, in his answer, promises that she shall be the purchaser of the jewels, if they come into his hands.

He acquaints her that the family had given Colonel Morden the keys of all that belonged to the dear departed; that the unhappy mother had (as the will allows) ordered a piece of needlework to be set aside for her, and had desired Mrs Norton to get the little book of meditations transcribed, and to let her have the original, as it was all of her dear daughter's hand-writing; and as it might, when she could bear to look

into it, administer consolation to herself. And that she had likewise reserved for herself her picture in the Vandyke taste.

Mr Belford sends with this letter to Miss Howe the lady's memorandum-book, and promises to send her copies of the several posthumous letters. He tells her that Mr Lovelace being upon the recovery, he had enclosed the posthumous letter directed for him to Lord M. that his lordship might give it to him, or not, as he should find he could bear it. The following is a copy of that letter:

TO MR LOVELACE.

Thursday, Aug. 24.

I TOLD you, in the letter I wrote to you on Tuesday last, that you should have another sent you when I had got into my father's house. I presume to say, that I am now, at your receiving of this, arrived there; and I invite you to follow me, as soon as you can be prepared for so great a journey.

Not to allegorize farther--my fate is now, at your perusal of this, accomplished. My doom is unalterably fixed; and I am either a miserable or a happy being to all eternity. If happy, I owe it solely to the Divine mercy; if miserable, to your undeserved cruelty.-And consider now, for your own sake, gay, cruel, fluttering, unhappy man! consider, whether the barbarous and perfidious treatment I have met with from you was worthy the hazard of your immortal soul; since your wicked views were not to be effected but by the wilful breach of the most solemn vows that ever were made by man; and those aided by a violence and baseness unworthy of a human creature.

In time then, once more, I wish you to consider your ways. Your golden dream cannot long last. Your present course can yield you pleasure no longer than you can keep off thought or reflection. A hardened insensibility is the only foundation on which your inward tranquillity is built. When once a dangerous sickness seizes you; when once effectual remorse breaks in upon you; how dreadful will be your condition! How poor a triumph will you then find it, to have been able, by a series of black perjuries, and studied baseness, under the name of gallantry or intrigue, to betray poor unexperienced young creatures, who perhaps knew nothing but their

duty till they knew you!-Not one good action in the hour of languishing to recollect, not one worthy intention to revolve, it will be all reproach and horror; and you will wish to have it in your power to compound for annihilation.

Reflect, sir, that I can have no other motive, in what I write, than your good, and the safety of other innocent creatures, who may be drawn in by your wicked arts and perjuries. You have not, in my wishes for your future welfare, the wishes of a suppliant wife, endeavouring, for her own sake, as well as for yours, to induce you to reform those ways. They are wholly as disinterested as undeserved. But I should mistrust my own penitence, were I capable of wishing to recompense evil for evil-if, black as your offences have been against me, I could not forgive, as I wish to be forgiven.

I repeat, therefore, that I do forgive you. And may the Almighty forgive you too! Nor have I, at the writing of this, any other essential regrets than what are occasioned by the grief I have given to parents, who, till I knew you, were the most indulgent of parents; by the scandal given to the other branches of my family; by the disreputation brought upon my sex; and by the offence given to virtue in my fall.

As to myself, you have only robbed me of what once were my favourite expectations in the transient life I shall have quitted when you receive this. You have only been the cause that I have been cut off in the bloom of youth, and of curtailing a life that might have been agreeable to myself, or otherwise, as had suited the designs and ends of Providence. I have reason to be thankful for being taken away from the evil of supporting my part of a yoke with a man so unhappy; I will only say, that, in all probability, every hour I had lived with him might have brought with it some new trouble. And I am (indeed, through sharp afflictions and distresses) indebted to you, secondarily, as I humbly presume to hope, for so many years of glory, as might have proved years of danger, temptation, and anguish, had they been added to my mortal life.

So, sir, though no thanks to your intention, you have done me real service; and, in return, I wish you happy. But such has been your life hitherto, that you can have no time to lose in setting about your repentance. Repentance to such as have lived only carelessly, and in the