oo much addicted to it. Desires to know what he
means my his ridicule with regard to his charming cousin.

LETTER XLIII. From the same.--
A proper test of the purity of writing. The lady again makes excuses for
her allegorical letter. Her calm behaviour, and generous and useful
reflections, on his communicating to her Brand's misrepresentations of
her conduct.

LETTER XLIV. Colonel Morden to Clarissa.--
Offers his assistance and service to make the best of what has happened.
Advises her to marry Lovelace, as the only means to bring about a general
reconciliation. Has no doubt of his resolution to do her justice.
Desires to know if she has.

LETTER XLV. Clarissa. In answer.

LETTER XLVI. Lovelace to Belford.--
His reasonings and ravings on finding the lady's letter to him only an
allegorical one. In the midst of these, the natural gayety of his heart
runs him into ridicule on Belford. His ludicrous image drawn from a
monument in Westminster Abbey. Resumes his serious disposition. If the
worst happen, (the Lord of Heaven and Earth, says he, avert that worst!)
he bids him only write that he advises him to take a trip to Paris; and
that will stab him to the heart.

LETTER XLVII. Belford to Lovelace.--
The lady's coffin brought up stairs. He is extremely shocked and
discomposed at it. Her intrepidity. Great minds, he observes, cannot
avoid doing uncommon things. Reflections on the curiosity of women.

LETTER XLVIII. From the same.--
Description of the coffin, and devices on the lid. It is placed in her
bed-chamber. His serious application to Lovelace on her great behaviour.

LETTER XLIX. From the same.--
Astonished at his levity in the Abbey-instance. The lady extremely ill.

LETTER L. Lovelace to Belford.--
All he has done to the lady a jest to die for; since her triumph has ever
been greater than her sufferings. He will make over all his possessions
and all his reversions to the doctor, if he will but prolong her life for
one twelvemonth. How, but for her calamities, could her equanimity blaze
out as it does! He would now love her with an intellectual flame. He
cannot bear to think that the last time she so triumphantly left him
should be the last. His conscience, he says, tears him. He is sick of
the remembrance of his vile plots.

LETTER LI. Belford to Lovelace.--
The lady alive, serene, and calm. The more serene for having finished,
signed, and sealed her last will; deferred