Lady Frances was about to read them aloud, but Constantia prevented her.
"I have read it over and over, dearest, though wherefore I hardly know;
my lot is cast in a way so different from that she imagines. The
precepts are for the promotion of happiness, which I can never expect to
enjoy--never to be cited as an example of connubial excellence. I shall
leave no record that people in after years will point at, and say,
Behold, how lovingly they lived together! But read it, Frances, read it:
to you it may prove salutary, for you will be happy in your union, and
with one whom you can love."
The Lady Frances took the letter with a trembling hand, and read as
follows:-"Richmond, 1657, the 2d day of June.
"Your letter, which I had the happiness to receive some time
since, my dear young friend, notwithstanding its melancholy
theme, afforded me real satisfaction. It is true that your loving
mother has been removed; but blessed is the knowledge which
instructs you that she and all her excellences came from God, and
have now but been taken back to their own most perfect source;
that you are parted for a moment, to meet again for eternity! Her
soul conversed so much with God while it was here, that it
rejoices to be now freed from interruption in that hallowed
exercise. Her virtues were recorded in heaven's annals, and can
never perish: by them she yet teaches us, and all those to whose
knowledge they shall arrive. 'Tis only her fetters that have been
removed; her infirmities, her sorrows that are dead never to
revive again--nor would we have them: we may mourn for ourselves
that we walk so tardily in her steps, that we need her guidance
and assistance on the way. And yet, dearest Constance, but that
the veil of tearful mortality is before our eyes, we should see
her, even in heaven, holding forth the bright lamp of virtuous
example and precept, to light us through the dark world we must
for a few years tread.
"But I have heard tidings lately, and from the Lady Claypole too,
of which, methinks, to your mother's friend, you have been over
chary. Ah! maidens care not to prate of their love affairs to
matrons. Silly things! they would go their own course, and think
for themselves! without knowing how to go, or what to think! The
besetting sin of youth is--presumption: but it is not your sin,
my gentle girl; it was some species of modesty withheld your
pen--yet I heard it. My husband, albeit not a very frequent guest
at Whitehall, pays his respects there sometimes, mainly out of
his duty and regard to the Lady Claypole; for he is no scorner of
our sex, and holds it a privilege to converse with wise and holy
women. She informed him, and not as a matter of secrecy, that you
would soon be wedded to Sir Willmott Burrell; and, although we
know him not, we readily believe that he is a good and honest
gentleman, commanding our esteem, because beloved of you--the
which, I pray you, advise him of--and say we hope he will number
us among his friends. I never doubted your wisdom, Constantia,
and those cannot wed well who do not wed wisely. By wisely, I do
not mean that longing after foolish gain and worldly
aggrandisement, which vain women, alas! covet more than the
enjoyment of their lives and the salvation of their souls. I
would have a woman seek for her husband one whom she can love
with an ardent, but not idolatrous passion; capable of being a
firm, consistent friend; who has sufficient knowledge and virtue
to sit in council within her bosom, and direct her in all things.
Having found such, the wife should desire and strive to be as a
very faithful mirror, reflecting truly, however dimly, his own
virtues. I have been long wedded, and, thank God, most happily
so. We have become as a proverb among our friends; and matrons,
when they bless their daughters at the altar, wish them to be as
happy as Lucy Hutchinson. Had your blessed mother lived, my
advice might have been almost impertinent; but now, I am sure you
will not take it ill of a most true friend to speak a little
counsel: my words may be but as dew-drops, yet there is a spirit
within you that can convert them into pearls. But counsel ought
to be preceded by prayer--and I have prayed--Will you take ill
the supplication? I know you will not.