You say, in excuse for my mother, (what my fervent love for my friend
very ill brooks,) that we ought not to blame any one for not doing what
she has an opinion to do, or to let alone. This, in cases of friendship,
would admit of very strict discussion. If the thing requested be of
greater consequence, or even of equal, to the person sought to, and it
were, as the old phrase has it, to take a thorn out of one's friend's
foot to put in into one's own, something might be said.--Nay, it would
be, I will venture to say, a selfish thing in us to ask a favour of
a friend which would subject that friend to the same or equal
inconvenience as that from which we wanted to be relieved, The requested
would, in this case, teach his friend, by his own selfish example, with
much better reason, to deny him, and despise a friendship so merely
nominal. But if, by a less inconvenience to ourselves, we could relieve
our friend from a greater, the refusal of such a favour makes the
refuser unworthy of the name of friend: nor would I admit such a one,
not even into the outermost fold of my heart.
I am well aware that this is your opinion of friendship, as well as
mine: for I owe the distinction to you, upon a certain occasion; and it
saved me from a very great inconvenience, as you must needs remember.
But you were always for making excuses for other people, in cases
wherein you would not have allowed of one for yourself.
I must own, that were these excuses for a friend's indifference, or
denial, made by any body but you, in a case of such vast importance to
herself, and of so comparative a small one to those for whose protection
she would be thought to wish; I, who am for ever, as you have often
remarked, endeavouring to trace effects to their causes, should be
ready to suspect that there was a latent, unowned inclination, which
balancing, or preponderating rather, made the issue of the alternative
(however important) sit more lightly upon the excuser's mind than she
cared to own.
You will understand me, my dear. But if you do not, it may be well for
me; for I am afraid I shall have it from you for but starting such a
notion, or giving a hint, which perhaps, as you did once in another
case, you will reprimandingly call, 'Not being able to forego the
ostentation of sagacity, though at the expense of that tenderness which
is due to friendship and charity.'
What signifies owning a fault without mending it, you'll say?--Very
true, my dear. But you know I ever was a saucy creature--ever stood in
need of great allowances.--And I remember, likewise, that I ever had
them from my dear Clarissa. Nor do I doubt them now: for you know how
much I love you--if it be possible, more than myself I love you! Believe
me, my dear: and, in consequence of that belief, you will be able to
judge how much I am affected by your present distressful and critical
situation; which will not suffer me to pass by without a censure even
that philosophy of temper in your own cause, which you have not in
another's, and which all that know you ever admired you for.
From this critical and distressful situation, it shall be my hourly
prayers that you may be delivered without blemish to that fair fame
which has hitherto, like your heart, been unspotted.
With this prayer, twenty times repeated, concludes Your ever
affectionate, ANNA HOWE.
I hurried myself in writing this; and I hurry Robin away with it, that,
in a situation so very critical, you may have all the time possible to
consider what I have written, upon two points so very important. I will
repeat them in a very few words:
'Whether you choose not rather to go off with one of your own sex; with
your ANNA HOWE--than with one of the other; with Mr. LOVELACE?'
And if not,
'Whether you should not marry him as soon as possible?'