ABSTRACT
Your letter has just come to my hand, and forgive me if I say it is the least welcome of any I ever yet received from you. Were I not disarmed of all resentment by the deep distress with which your heart is evidently surcharged, and which gives you an irresistible claim to the most sympathetic tenderness, I fear I should discover more real displeasure than you could ever draw from me on any occasion wherein my lovely Fanny is not concerned;/ in every other point I will, most readily, allow the superiority of your judgment; – but in this I must claim the privilege of ee agency, and beg leave to judge for myself. Believe me, my dear Edward, it is only the cruel melancholy by which your spirits are depressed that shuts out my Fanny’s virtues from your view, and gives to your portrait of her character those dark deforming shades that are not to be found in the original. Twelve months back your generous nature would have spurned at the idea of injuring a female character by such illiberal and unjust censures; but it frequently happens that a iction has the power of changing the most amiable disposition; and I am now convinced it has done so by yours, and made you as sour and morose as old age and its train of in rmities could have done. You are really, my friend, most cuttingly severe upon an innocent lovely girl, whose only fault is her excess of tenderness towards me. I hope, however, to repair the injury your injustice does her, by making it the principal study of my life to promote her happiness. Yet, notwithstanding all you have/ said, I must tell you, I had far rather endure the severity with which you treat the subject, than renounce your friendly correspondence, or let it dwindle into mere formality, by withholding my accustomed communications; therefore, like it or dislike it, I shall still continue to persecute you with a recital of every important occurrence, and in pursuance of this resolution am now going to relate the conversation that passed between my father and me, a er concluding my last.
