not like her own fine
one, as Mrs. Lovick tells me, but larger, and the lines crooked.
I have accepted of the offer of a room adjoining to the widow Lovick's,
till I see how matters go; but unknown to the lady; and I shall go home
every night, for a few hours. I would not lose a sentence that I could
gain from lips so instructive, nor the opportunity of receiving any
command from her, for an estate.
In this my new apartment I now write, and shall continue to write, as
occasions offer, that I may be the more circumstantial: but I depend upon
the return of my letters, or copies of them, on demand, that I may have
together all that relates to this affecting story; which I shall
re-peruse with melancholy pleasure to the end of my life.
I think I will send thee Brand's letter to Mr. John Harlowe, recanting
his base surmises. It is a matchless piece of pedantry; and may perhaps
a little divert thy deep chagrin: some time hence at least it may, if not
now.
What wretched creatures are there in the world! What strangely mixed
creatures!--So sensible and so silly at the same time! What a various,
what a foolish creature is man!--
THREE O'CLOCK.
The lady has just finished her letter, and has entertained Mrs. Lovick,
Mrs. Smith, and me, with a noble discourse on the vanity and brevity of
life, to which I cannot do justice in the repetition: and indeed I am so
grieved for her, that, ill as she is, my intellects are not half so clear
as her's.
A few things which made the strongest impression upon me, as well from
the sentiments themselves as from her manner of uttering them, I
remember. She introduced them thus:
I am thinking, said she, what a gradual and happy death God Almighty
(blessed be his name) affords me! Who would have thought, that, suffering
what I have suffered, and abandoned as I have been, with such a
tender education as I have had, I should be so long a dying!--But see now
by little and little it had come to this. I was first take off from the
power of walking; then I took a coach--a coach grew too violent an
exercise: then I took up a chair--the prison was a large DEATH-STRIDE
upon me--I should have suffered longer else!--Next, I was unable to go to
church; then to go up or down stairs; now hardly can move from one room
to another: and a less room will soon hold me.--My eyes begin to fail me,
so that at times I cannot see to read distinctly; and now I can hardly
write, or hold a pen.--Next,
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