The gin, the snare, the net, mean matrimony, I suppose—­But is it a crime in me to wish to marry her?  Would any other woman think it so? and choose to become a pelican in the wilderness, or a lonely sparrow on the house-top, rather than have a mate that would chirp about her all day and all night?

She says, she has eaten ashes like bread—­A sad mistake to be sure!—­And mingled her drink with weeping—­Sweet maudlin soul! should I say of any body confessing this, but Miss Harlowe.

She concludes with praying, that the desires of the wicked (meaning poor me, I doubt) may not be granted; that my devices may not be furthered, lest I exalt myself.  I should undoubtedly exalt myself, and with reason, could I have the honour and the blessing of such a wife.  And if my desires have so honourable an end, I know not why I should be called wicked, and why I should not be allowed to hope, that my honest devices may be furthered, that I may exalt myself.

But here, Mrs. Lovick, let me ask, as something is undoubtedly meant by the lonely sparrow on the house-top, is not the dear creature at this very instant (tell me truly) concealed in Mrs. Smith’s cockloft?—­What say you, Mrs. Lovick?  What say you, Mrs. Smith, to this?

They assured me to the contrary; and that shew as actually abroad, and they knew not where.

Thou seest, Jack, that I would fain have diverted the chagrin given me not only by the women’s talk, but by this collection of Scripture-texts drawn up in array against me.  Several other whimsical and light things I said [all I had for it!] with the same view.  But the widow would not let me come off so.  She stuck to me; and gave me, as I told thee, a good deal of uneasiness, by her sensible and serious expostulations.  Mrs. Smith put in now-and-then; and the two Jack-pudding fellows, John and Joseph, not being present, I had no provocation to turn the conversation into a farce; and, at last, they both joined warmly to endeavour to prevail upon me to give up all thoughts of seeing the lady.  But I could not hear of that.  On the contrary, I besought Mrs. Smith to let me have one of her rooms but till I could see her; and were it but for one, two, or three days, I would pay a year’s rent for it; and quit it the moment the interview was over.  But they desired to be excused; and were sure the lady would not come to the house till I was gone, were it for a month.

This pleased me; for I found they did not think her so very ill as they would have me believe her to be; but I took no notice of the slip, because I would not guard them against more of the like.

In short, I told them, I must and would see her:  but that it should be with all the respect and veneration that heart could pay to excellence like her’s:  and that I would go round to all the churches in London and Westminster, where there were prayers or service, from sun-rise to sun-set, and haunt their house like a ghost, till I had the opportunity my soul panted after.