Wesley Corpus

DEAR BROTHER -- The very thing I desire of you is this, that you would not content yourself with your own opinion, nor fix your own opinion at all, till you have heard my story as well as theirs who accuse me. 'Tis very hard: I have said all that I can say, -- I have professed my sincerity and integrity, more perhaps than it became me to profess them; I have asked yours as well as my father's pardon for any real or supposed slight I have put upon you; to you in particular I have given all the satisfaction which I could contrive to give in words; and yet am now just as far, if not farther, from a reconciliation than I was when I first set out. Since all probable methods of gaining my cause have failed, I will try one way more: I will relate the controverted facts as plainly as I can, without desiring you either to believe me or not. If you do, I shall be glad both for your sake and my own; if not, I have done my part, and can therefore quietly commit my ways to Him, who in His own good time will make my innocence as clear as the light. First I shall tell you what I suspect, and next what I know. My suspicion is that, on your receiving a letter from me, you immediately set yourself to consider what 'tis probable I shall say to your last: and if you hit upon any of my objections, then they are to go for nothing; you have already found out the emptiness of them. You then proceed to read, taking it for granted that if I will not tell a downright lie, which is a question, I will however color and palliate everything, as far as my wit will serve me to do with any show of truth; that calmness is an infallible mark of disrespect, as warmth is of guilt; and with a few of these either praecognita or praeconcessa, 'tis perfectly easy to demonstrate that I am totally in the wrong.