but, as on one side, he was above me; so, on
the other, I said of all things I did not love a parson. So, finding
she could make nothing of me, she quitted the subject. I will open his
letter by and by, and give you the contents of it; for she is up and
down so much, that I am afraid of her surprising me.

Well, I see Providence has not abandoned me: I shall be under no
necessity to make advances to Mr. Williams, if I was (as I am sure I am
not) disposed to it. This is his letter:

'I know not how to express myself, lest I should appear to you to have
a selfish view in the service I would do you. But I really know but one
effectual and honourable way to disengage yourself from the dangerous
situation you are in. It is that of marriage with some person that you
could make happy in your approbation. As for my own part, it would be,
as things stand, my apparent ruin; and, worse still, I should involve
you in misery too. But, yet, so great is my veneration for you, and
so entire my reliance on Providence, upon so just an occasion, that I
should think myself but too happy, if I might be accepted. I would, in
this case, forego all my expectations, and be your conductor to some
safe distance. But why do I say, in this case? That I will do, whether
you think fit to reward me so eminently or not: And I will, the moment I
hear of Mr. B----'s setting out, (and I think now I have settled a very
good method of intelligence of all his motions,) get a horse ready,
and myself to conduct you. I refer myself wholly to your goodness and
direction; and am, with the highest respect,

'Your most faithful humble servant.'

'Don't think this a sudden resolution. I always admired your
hear-say character; and the moment I saw you, wished to serve so much
excellence.'

What shall I say, my dear father and mother, to this unexpected
declaration? I want, now, more than ever, your blessing and direction.
But, after all, I have no mind to marry; I had rather live with you. But
yet, I would marry a man who begs from door to door, and has no home nor
being, rather than endanger my honesty. Yet I cannot, methinks, hear of
being a wife.--After a thousand different thoughts, I wrote as follows:

'REVEREND SIR,

'I am greatly confused at the contents of your last. You are much too
generous, and I can't bear you should risk all your future prospects
for so unworthy a creature. I cannot think of your offer without eq