! gay, inconsiderate, and cruel! what has
been his gain by making unhappy a creature who hoped to make him happy!
and who was determined to deserve the love of all to whom he is related!
--Poor man!--but you will mistake a compassionate and placable nature for
love!--he took care, great care, that I should rein-in betimes any
passion that I might have had for him, had he known how to be but
commonly grateful or generous!--But the Almighty knows what is best for
his poor creatures.

Some of the letters in the same packet will also let you into the
knowledge of a strange step which I have taken, (strange you will think
it); and, at the same time, give you my reasons for taking it.*

* She means that of making Mr. Belford her executor.

It must be expected, that situations uncommonly difficult will make
necessary some extraordinary steps, which, but for those situations,
would be hardly excusable. It will be very happy indeed, and somewhat
wonderful, if all the measures I have been driven to take should be
right. A pure intention, void of all undutiful resentment, is what must
be my consolation, whatever others may think of those measures, when they
come to know them: which, however, will hardly be till it is out of my
power to justify them, or to answer for myself.

I am glad to hear of my cousin Morden's safe arrival. I should wish to
see him methinks: but I am afraid that he will sail with the stream; as
it must be expected, that he will hear what they have to say first.--But
what I most fear is, that he will take upon himself to avenge me. Rather
than he should do so, I would have him look upon me as a creature utterly
unworthy of his concern; at least of his vindictive concern.

How soothing to the wounded heart of your Clarissa, how balmy are the
assurances of your continued love and favour;--love me, my dear mamma
Norton, continue to love me, to the end!--I now think that I may, without
presumption, promise to deserve your love to the end. And, when I am
gone, cherish my memory in your worthy heart; for in so doing you will
cherish the memory of one who loves and honours you more than she can
express.

But when I am no more, I charge you, as soon as you can, the smarting
pangs of grief that will attend a recent loss; and let all be early
turned into that sweetly melancholy regard to MEMORY, which, engaging us
to forget all faults, and to remember nothing but what was thought
amiable, gives more pleasu