On the Arrival of Miss _Howe_, we turn from the slow moving Herse, to the rapid Chariot-wheels that fly to bring the warm Friend, all glowing with the most poignant lively Grief, to mourn her lost _Clarissa_. Here again the Description equals the noble Subject. Miss _Howe_, at the first striking Sight of _Clarissa_ in her Coffin, could only by frantic Actions express the labouring Anguish that perturbed her Breast. And we accompany her in Horror, when she first impatiently pushes aside the Coffin Lid. In short, we sigh, we rave, and we weep with her.
What I felt at Colonel _Morden's_ Description at the Funeral, is exactly painted in the Letter wrote by Mr. _Belford_ in Answer to that Description, where he says,
'You croud me Sir, methinks, into the silent, slow Procession--Now with the sacred Bier do I enter the Porch--'[C]
[C] See Vol. VII. Letter 74. Page 292. in _Clarissa_.
But it would be endless to mention all the moving tragic Scenes, that are now crouding into my Mind, in _Clarissa_; all judiciously interspersed with Scenes of comic Humour; such as the Behaviour of _Lovelace_ at the Ball; the Meeting between him and Mr. _Hickman_; _Lovelace's_ Description of what he calls his Tryal before Lord M--and the Ladies; with some others equally calculated to relieve the Mind from fixing too long on mournful melancholy Ideas.
Finely has the Author of _Clarissa_ set forth what is true, and what is false Honour. When _Lovelace_ upbraids _Belford_ for not preserving _Clarissa_, by betraying his own villainous Plots and Machinations to destroy her; and says, 'I am sure now, that I would have thanked thee for it with all my Heart, and thought thee more a Father and a Friend, than my real Father and my best Friend.'
All false Shame has he exposed, by shewing the Beauties of an open and frank Heart in _Clarissa's_ charming Simplicity, when she tells Mrs. _Smith_, in a publick Shop, that she had been in Prison; and when in a Letter to Lady _Betty Laurance_ she declares, that _the Disgrace she cannot hide from herself, she is not sollicitous to conceal from the World_.
True and false Friendship was never more beautifully displayed than in this Work; the firm, the steady Flame that burns in the fixed Affection between _Clarissa_ and Miss _Howe_, which, in _Clarissa's_ Words, _has Virtue for its Base_, is both well described and accounted for by Colonel _Morden_; and that Chaff and Stubble, as she well calls it, that _has not Virtue for its Base_, is inimitably painted by _Belford_, in his Account of _Mowbray's_ Behaviour to the dying _Belton_. 'It is such a horrid thing (says he) to think of, that a Man who had lived in such strict Terms of Amity with another (the Proof does not come out so as to say Friendship) who had pretended so much Love for him, could not bear to be out of his Company, would ride an hundred Miles an End to enjoy it, and would fight for him, be the Cause right or wrong; yet now could be so little moved to see him in such Misery of Body and Mind as to be able to rebuke him, and rather ridicule than pity him; because he was more affected by what he felt, than he had seen a Malefactor (hardened perhaps by Liquor, and not softened by previous Sickness) on his going to Execution.'