This rule is what I would beg your Majesty would be pleased to observe upon the four articles which I have now written exactly as they stand in that book, and upon the first to ask your own heart seriously whether you have ever told me of any fault but that of believing, as all the world does, that you have an intimacy with Mrs. Masham; and whether those shocking things you complain I have said, were any more than desiring you to love me better than her, and not to take away your confidence from me after more than twenty-five years’ service and professions of friendship.
Upon the second, whether you have not forsaken my friendship upon slight or no faults?
Upon the third, whether you have ever taken well any kind advice that I have endeavoured to give you, but have been always angry at me for it?
Upon the fourth, whether you have attempted ever, by the least kind word, to make me any amends upon all the just representations I have made of the wrong done me in the business of my office, in Mrs. Masham’s using my lodgings, and all that you have said upon those occasions?
I beg your Majesty will be pleased to weigh these things attentively, not only with reference to friendship, but also to morality and religion; and that if ever I have said anything to you, of the truth of which you are not convinced, you will be so favourable to let me know what it is.
In the warning before the Communion, in the Common Prayer Book, we are enjoined so to search and examine our consciences that we may come holy and cleane to such a heavenly feast, and to reconcile ourselves, and make restitution to those that we have done the least injury to; and if we have given any reall cause of complaint, to acknowledge our fault, in order to regain the friendship of those we have used ill, and not to think it a disparagement to speak first, since ’tis no more than our duty; and I have read somewhere, that God himself does not forgive the injurys that are done to us, till we are satisfied and intercede for those that did them, who are afterwards obliged to make suitable returns by all offices of Christian love and friendship. The Scripture itself does explain this matter in these words:—First be reconciled to thy brother, and then offer thy gift. The meaning can be no other but that if at any time we are going to receive, and remember that we have used any one ill, we should first endeavour to make satisfaction, it being but reasonable and just that whoever has done wrong should confess and acknowledge it, and to the utmost of his power make reparation for it. To this purpose I beg leave to transcribe a passage in Dr. Taylor. “He that comes to the holy sacrament must, before his coming, so repent of his injurys as to make actual restitution, for it is not fit for him to receive benefit from Christ’s death, as long as by him his brother feels an injury; there is no repentance unless the penitent, as much as he can, makes that to be undone which is done amiss, and therefore because the action can never be undone, at least undoe the mischiefe. Doe justice and judgement. That’s repentance. Put thy neighbour, if thou canst, into the same state of good from whence by thy fault hee was removed,—at least, make that it should be no worse. Doe no new injury, and cut off the old. Restore him to his fame and his lost advantages.”
And I beg leave to quote one other passage of the same author.
“Examine thyself in the particulars of thy relation, especially where thou governest and takest accounts of others, and exactest their faults, and art not so obnoxious to them as they are to thee; for princes and masters think more things are lawful to them towards their inferiors than indeed there are.”
Upon the whole, it appears by the authority of this great man, that the first steps towards a reconcilliation should always be made by those that did the injury, and not by those that received it. On the first part, there should be shown some effects of repentance—some returns of kindness and friendship, and then it will be the duty of the other to remember it no more. This is as far as any one can go in this matter by the rules of justice. If anything I have written now, or at any time, appears to bee too familiar from a subject to a sovereign, I hope your Majesty will think it less wrong, if you consider its coming from Mrs. Freeman to Mrs. Morley, which names you so long obliged me to use that it is not easy for me now quite to forget them; and I still hope I have a better character in the world than Mrs. Masham tells your Majesty of inveteracy and malice, as I mentioned before, for I do not comprehend that one can be properly said to have malice or inveteracy for a viper, because one endeavours to hinder it from doing mischief: for I think when I know there is such an one, and do not acquaint you with it, I should fail in my duty, and I can’t see how that can be called being malicious. But since you make so ill returns for all the information which I have given you, which I know to be right from the dear-bought experience of that ungrateful woman, I will never mention her more, after I have had what I desire at the beginning of this, that you will say upon your word and honour that you have read these papers in the manner desired, and that you are not changed, though I wish you may not repent it and alter your opinion of this wretch, as you did of Mr. Harley, when it is too late: and I do assure your Majesty that I have not the least design of recovering what you say is so impossible (your kindness) in the letter of the twenty-sixth of October. What I have endeavoured is only with a view of your own safety and honour, and the preservation of the whole. I have but one request more, and then I have done for ever, upon the conditions I have written, and that is, that you will not burn my narratives, but lay them somewhere that you may see them a second time; because I know, sometime or other, before you die, if you are not now, you will be sensible how much you have wronged both yourself and me; but after you have read these papers and performed what Dr. Taylor recommends, whatever you write I will obey.
If I continue in your service, I will come to you noe oftener than just the business of my office requires, nor never speake to you one single word of anything else. And if I retire with the Duke of Marlborough, you may yet be surer that I will come no oftner than other subjects in that circumstance do.