me for pardon and acceptance unto that precious blood, enriched with all the fulness of in-dwelling God-head! O my soul, bless thou the Lord for a sense of sin; for though it is painful, it is also salutary. Let them not be accounted for thy companions, who deem a sense of sin to be superfluous in religion. It was now that I thought my guide Veratio interrupted me, just as the sin-hardened Securus departed this life; and said, thoughtless he lived, and thoughtless he died; but now he is thoughtful enough. Believe me, Novitio, he hath already thought more of hell, sin, and rebellion, than ever he did in all his life. Look you, Novitio, to yonder lake of fire and brimstone, where he is already plunged, undergoing the unknown tortures of the second death. And now he hath a never-ending eternity before him, to think of what is past, and what is future. Unhappy is he who is thoughtless in life, and unprovided for in death, like the wretched Securus! A pompous funeral is indeed designed him; but, alas! what pleasure can lifeless clay, or a tormented ghost, take in funeral pomp, or the crocodile tears of the mercenary mourner? But let us leave his relicts to endure that honour designed to be imposed upon them, and let you and I see what farther discoveries we can make. O, Sir, said I, what dreadful scenes you unfold! Is this, Veratio, the portraiture of unmasked death? Do all my fellow-creatures die thus miserable? And is there no such thing as a comfortable Death to be seen? O, Sir, my very flesh shudders at these awful discove ries. My guide replied, Know, young man, that sorrow is antecedent to joy, grief before consolation, darkness before light, and humility before honour. Shrink not back when the cup of bitterness kisseth your lips, seeing it is preparative to the cup of salvation. But if Novitio trembles to see such horrible appearances of Death, only think what they must feel who endure them! However, compassionating your timorous disposition, I shall shew you but one instance more of the death of the ungodly; after which I shall endeavour to recompense your pain by more pleasant discoveries. I mean, I shall discover unto you some of the godly, with their latter end. In the meanwhile, let us attend the disconsolate Letitia in her departing ágonies. This said, he led me away to a magnificent apartment, decorated with all the productions of art. In this apartment, brilliant as it was, we saw a lady whom all the riches of the East could not make happy: she lay on a bed of down, surrounded with hangings of damask, it is true, but found no more rest than if she had lain on a flinty rock: she was under the power of an inveterate malady, and had been so for several years, but greatly added there unto by murmuring at and repinning under the afflictive dispensation. She seemed to me to be about thirty-five years of age, and had been possessed of a goodly measure of external beauty, before it was blasted by this inveterate evil; so that, whilst a maiden, she was what we commonly call a genteel lady; and whatever qualifications Teresa could boast of, were all to be found in the youthful Letitia. In her affliction, which was indeed grievous, being a cancer in the breast, she greatly envied the happiness of her visitors, purely because they enjoyed health, the loss of which she inconsolably lamented; and instead of receiving the visits of her friends with that grateful civility which might have been expected from a person of her rank and education, reduced to such distressing circumstances, she was used to give it them in some such terms as these: "It is well for you: you can go abroad at your pleasure, and visit your friends, and with them partake of the sweetness of life. You may make much of it now, for you have all the genteel amusements to yourselves; as for me, I know not what evil I have committed more than others, that I should be imprisoned in this solitary place, to endure such racking pains as I do. I hear of many who have lived far more liberal than ever I did, who still continue to enjoy all the pleasures which either town or country can afford; but I must lie here, on this irksome bed, and nobody knows when I shall be able to go abroad, so much as to take an airing, or to see one friend or another. I employ the best physician in the country; but how it is, I know not, he can cure others, but all his prescriptions seem to be lost upon me." It was thus she entertained her friends, and thus she rendered herself. disagreeable to all that come near her. A godly minister in the neighbourhood was used occasionally to visit her, though his company was never very desirable, his conversation being by far too serious for a lady of her disposition of mind. Her élevated station, and the known precariousness of her temper, long deterred him from dealing so faithfully with her as he desired; but at last he greatly offended her, by telling her that she ought to consider herself as a dying woman, who must soon give an account of all her actions to a just and impartial God, whose sentence cannot possibly be evaded. He faithfully told her, that she must be regenerated by the Spirit of God, and sprinkled with the blood of Christ, before she had any reason to expect that her death would be comfortable. He told her, that unless she was renewed by the Holy Ghost, no regard would be paid at the great tribunal to her elevated station in life; for only those in every nation who fear God and work righteousness shall be saved for the Lord God, said he, is no respecter of persons. By this seasonable advice, and salutary instruction, the good Philanthropos ineurred her ladyship's displeasure so far, that she could never after gratefully receive a visit from him, but was always sullen and out of temper in his company. The venerable Veratio turned himself to me, and thus he said: Letitia was a fine gentlewoman, a descendant of a right honourable and illustrious family, genteel and handsome in the graces of her person, and by her birth entitled to an ample fortune. Her noble parents, with all imaginable tenderness, from her earliest days, indulged her to the last degree; they never cared to cross her inclinations, or restrain her humour, however extravagant; by which means she became imperious and haughty, a perfect humourist in her temper. From her youth upward she was inured to all the vanities of the town: the park, the playhouse, and the opera were as familiar to her as her bedchamber, and well she knew how to act her part in every polite entertainment. Her beauty, rank, and fortune brought a noble earl lawfully to her bed about the age of twenty-one. Being commenced wife she abated nothing of the pleasures to which she had devoted herself, but added very considerably thereunto, by receiving and returning many useless and unprofitable visits, until the fatal time on which she was seized by this malignant evil, which is indeed the forerunner of her death, and then she was out of temper with every body who came near her. Husband, children, and servants, all shared in her anger. Letitia's beauty was esteemed more than eastern pearls; she vainly imagined that the diamond lost its brilliance when her eye deigned to glance upon it; the damask rose its liveliness when compared to her more lively check; and the coral she supposed to yield all its perfection and own itself undone, when her mellifluous and pleasant lips were unmasked, but poignant pain, and frequent sickness greatly impairing her adored beauty, surprizingly added to her afdiction. So long as her strength would admit, she was wont to try her features in the looking-glass oftener than once a day; but how the faithful mirror was charged with falsehood, and bore the weight of her indignation, is not worth your while to hear, or mine to relate. O, Sir, said I, methinks that on all our lookingglasses, this motto," Memento Mori," out to be written, and a Death's head fixed on the top of every frame; for even beauties, who delight to gaze upon looking-glasses, meet with no reprieve from Death. The son of Melpomene, who so judiciously hath drawn the portraiture of the Grave, represents beauty as not one whit more grateful to the worms than deformity, and as certainly their feast. If you please, 2 Z 10. Sir, I shall recite the passage to you as it is not very long: "Beauty! thou pretty plaything! dear deceit "What hast thou more to boast of? will thy lovers BLAIR. According to the doctrine of this solemn bard, Sir, every time that the beautiful lady tries her graces in the glass, she should reflect how the worms will one day burrow in her cheeks, and her eyes become the nauseous habitation of loathsome insects; that she shall then be on a level with the meanest beggar who ranges the streets of the metropolis, and yielded no higher relish, though fed with turtle, to the worms, than the miscreant who keeps life in his body by mouldy bread, and the garbage of the kitchen, scarcely procured by lowly cringes, and the most fervent intreaties. Aye, said, Veratio, Mr. Blair may sing in that solemn strain, till he break the strings of his lyre, before the beaux and belles of our day are likely to mind what he says, for to this day it hath been at the peril of any servant or attendant whatsoever to tell Letitia that her looks are altered: nor hath her physician and surgeon ever dared to tell her that her disease is incurable. Full of pain indeed is the unhappy lady; but she languishes out her time in murmuring and repining at the sad dispensation, and envying the happiness of others. |