Thus the affected parson told this important tale to every one except Briton, who, from his ignorance of the story, conducted himself in his usual manner towards his supposed friends, though he observed they had a show of haste and business whenever he met with any of them. Happily for Briton, he depended not on the Deacon, minister, or colony, for his support. At last a Scotchman heard of the evil tale, and generously told Briton of it, adding that the parson was supposed to be in deep decline merely from grief and fatigue he had endured in spreading it. Briton thanked the Scotchman, and called on the friendly parson to know the particulars of his offence. The parson, with sighs, bows, and solemn smirkings, answered, “Sir, the fact is, you wrote a love-letter to the Deacon’s daughter without asking her parents’ consent; which has given great offence to that lady, and to all her acquaintance, of whom I and my wife have the honour to be reckoned a part.” Briton kept his temper. “So, then,” said he, “I have offended you by my insolent note to the Deacon’s daughter! I hope my sin is venial. Pray, sir, have you seen my note?” “Yes,” replied the parson, “to my grief and sorrow. I could not have thought you so imprudent, had I not seen and found the note to be your own handwriting.” “How long have you known of this offence?” “Some months.” “Why, sir, did you not seasonably admonish me for this crime?” “I was so hurt and grieved, and my friendship so great, I could not bear to tell you.” Mr. Briton then told the parson that his friendship was so fine and subtle, it was invisible to an English eye; and the Gospel ministers in England did not prove their friendship by telling calumnious stories to everybody but the person concerned. “But I suppose,” added he, “this is genuine New-England friendship, and merits thanks more than a supple-jack.” The parson, with a leering look, sneaked away towards his wife; and Briton left the colony without any civil or ecclesiastical punishment, telling the Scotchman that the Deacon’s daughter had money, and the parson faith without eyes, or he should never have been accused of making love to one who was naturally so great an enemy to Cupid. Of such or worse sort being the reception foreign settlers may expect from the inhabitants of Connecticut, it is no wonder that few, or none, choose to venture among them.