s her love of me
will make it more agreeable to her, than her punctilio would otherwise
allow it to be: and tell her, said she, dropping on one knee, with
clasped hands, and uplifted eyes, that in this posture you see me, in the
last moment of our parting, begging a blessing upon you both, and that
you may be the delight and comfort of each other, for many, very many
happy years!'

Tears, said he, fell from my eyes: I even sobbed with mingled joy and
sorrow; and she retreating as soon as I raised her, I went down stairs
highly dissatisfied with myself for going; yet unable to stay; my eyes
fixed the contrary way to my feet, as long as I could behold the skirts
of her raiment.

I went to the back-shop, continued the worthy man, and recommended the
angelic lady to the best care of Mrs. Smith; and, when I was in the
street, cast my eye up at her window: there, for the last time, I doubt,
said he, that I shall ever behold her, I saw her; and she waved her
charming hand to me, and with such a look of smiling goodness, and
mingled concern, as I cannot describe.

Pr'ythee tell me, thou vile Lovelace, if thou hast not a notion, even
from these jejune descriptions of mine, that there must be a more exalted
pleasure in intellectual friendship, than ever thou couldst taste in the
gross fumes of sensuality? And whether it may not be possible for thee,
in time, to give that preference to the infinitely preferable, which I
hope, now, that I shall always give?

I will leave thee to make the most of this reflection, from

Thy true friend,
J. BELFORD.

LETTER XLIX

MISS HOWE, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE
THURSDAY, JULY 25.*

* Text error: should be Tuesday.

Your two affecting letters were brought to me (as I had directed any
letter from you should be) to the Colonel's, about an hour before we
broke up. I could not forbear dipping into them there; and shedding
more tears over them than I will tell you of; although I dried my eyes
as well as I could, that the company I was obliged to return to, and my
mother, should see as little of my concern as possible.

I am yet (and was then still more) excessively fluttered. The occasion
I will communicate to you by-and-by: for nothing but the flutters given
by the stroke of death could divert my first attention from the sad and
solemn contents of your last favour. These therefore I must begin with.

How can I bear the thoughts of losing so dear a friend! I will not so
much a