But now my hand’s in, let me tell you of a third matrimonial proposition, which gives me more puzzle and dislike a great deal.  And that is, Mr. Adams has, with great reluctance, and after abundance of bashful apologies, asked me, if I have any objection to his making his addresses to Polly Barlow? which, however, he told me, he had not mentioned to her, nor to any body living, because he would first know whether I should take it amiss, as her service was so immediately about my person.

This unexpected motion much perplexed me.  Mr. Adams is a worthy man.  He has now a very good living; yet just entered upon it; and, I think, according to his accustomed prudence in other respects, had better have turned himself about first.

But that is not the point with me neither.  I have a great regard to the function.  I think it is as necessary, in order to preserve the respect due to the clergy, that their wives should be nearly, if not quite as unblemished, and as circumspect, as themselves; and this for the gentleman’s own sake, as well as in the eye of the world:  for how shall he pursue his studies with comfort to himself, if made uneasy at home! or how shall he expect his female parishioners will regard his public preaching, if he cannot have a due influence over the private conduct of his wife?

I can’t say, excepting in the instance of Mr. H. but Polly is a good sort of body enough so far as I know; but that is such a blot in the poor girl’s escutcheon, a thing not accidental, nor surprised into, not owing to inattention, but to cool premeditation, that, I think, I could wish Mr. Adams a wife more unexceptionable.

’Tis true, Mr. Adams knows not this, but that is one of my difficulties.  If I acquaint him with it, I shall hurt the poor girl irreparably, and deprive her of a husband, to whom she may possibly make a good wife—­For she is not very meanly descended—­much better than myself, as the world would say were a judgment to be made from my father’s low estate, when I was exalted—­I never, my dear, shall be ashamed of these retrospections!  She is genteel, has a very innocent look, a good face, is neat in her person, and not addicted to any excess that I know of.  But still, that one premeditated fault, is so sad a one, though she might make a good wife for any middling man of business, yet she wants, methinks, that discretion, that purity, which I would always have in the wife of a good clergyman.

Then, she has not applied her thoughts to that sort of economy, which the wife of a country clergyman ought to know something of; and has such a turn to dress and appearance, that I can see, if indulged, she would not be one that would help to remove the scandal which some severe remarkers are apt to throw upon the wives of parsons, as they call them.

The maiden, I believe, likes Mr. Adams not a little.  She is very courteous to every body, but most to him of any body, and never has missed being present at our Sunday’s duties; and five or six times, Mrs. Jervis tells me, she has found her desirous to have Mr. Adams expound this text, and that difficulty; and the good man is taken with her piety, which, and her reformation, I hope, is sincere; but she is very sly, very subtle, as I have found in several instances, as foolish as she was in the affair I hint at.