The granting of one request only now remains as a desirable one from them.  Which nevertheless, when granted, I shall not be sensible of.  It is that they will be pleased to permit my remains to be laid with those of my ancestors—­placed at the feet of my dear grandfather, as I have mentioned in my will.  This, however, as they please.  For, after all, this vile body ought not so much to engage my cares.  It is a weakness—­ but let it be called a natural weakness, and I shall be excused; especially when a reverential gratitude shall be known to be the foundation of it.  You know, my dear woman, how my grandfather loved me.  And you know how much I honoured him, and that from my very infancy to the hour of his death.  How often since have I wished, that he had not loved me so well!

I wish not now, at the writing of this, to see even my cousin Morden.  O, my blessed woman!  My dear maternal friend!  I am entering upon a better tour than to France or Italy either!—­or even than to settle at my once-beloved Dairy-house!—­All these prospects and pleasures, which used to be so agreeable to me in health, how poor seem they to me now!—­

Indeed, indeed, my dear Mamma Norton, I shall be happy!  I know I shall!  —­I have charming forebodings of happiness already!—­Tell all my dear friends, for their comfort, that I shall!—­Who would not bear the punishments I have borne, to have the prospects and assurances I rejoice in!—­Assurances I might not have had, were my own wishes to have been granted to me!

Neither do I want to see even you, my dear Mrs. Norton.  Nevertheless I must, in justice to my own gratitude, declare, that there was a time, could you have been permitted to come, without incurring displeasure from those whose esteem it is necessary for you to cultivate and preserve, that your presence and comfortings would have been balm to my wounded mind.  But were you now, even by consent, and with reconciliatory tidings, to come, it would but add to your grief; and the sight of one I so dearly love, so happily fraught with good news, might but draw me back to wishes I have had great struggles to get above.  And let me tell you for your comfort, that I have not left undone any thing that ought to be done, either respecting mind or person; no, not to the minutest preparation:  so that nothing is left for you to do for me.  Every one has her direction as to the last offices.—­And my desk, that I now write upon —­O my dearest Mrs. Norton, all is provided!—­All is ready!  And all will be as decent as it should be!

And pray let my Miss Howe know, that by the time you will receive this, and she your signification of the contents of it, will, in all probability, be too late for her to do me the inestimable favour, as I should once have thought it, to see me.  God will have no rivals in the hearts of those he sanctifies.  By various methods he deadens all other sensations, or rather absorbs them all in the love of him.