*tAt* . .-$ -. '..-..i.:=1';..: -. titos*liffroisk-.: ... ...:,.:it - Accltll'tt:...-.. VOL. 6--NO. 36.] TILT: -"With sweetest flowers eurich'd, From various gardens ailed with care." INTEMPERANCE. Parent!—who with speechless feeling, O'er thy orudled trtiusuies bout, Ever, your-new 'Yet thy wealth of love unspent; Ilast thou seen (hut lilosanin blighted, By a droar untimely All thy labor unrequitted? Every glorious promise lost? liVirel.—with agony unspoken, Shrinking Irony utiliction's rod, Is (by prop--thiris idol, °ken— Fondly trusted—nest to God? Iltisbunill--n'erthy hope a mourner, Of thy elloonsi friend asharn'd, Ilusllhnu to her burial bourne her, • tirepentuist—wireclaimed? Child!—in tender weakness turning 'l'n thy Imaymi.iippointed guide, Both a lava-poison burning, lingo with gull direction's tide? Still that urphari-burden bearing, Darker than the grave can show, Bost thou how thee down despairing, To a, horitago of wol Country!--on thy sons depending, Strong in manhood, bright in bloom, Bast thon seen thy pride descending, Shrouded to tile unlionor'd tomb? Rising!..-01/ eagle pinion soaring— Itise:—liku one of god liko birth-- And Jelinvuli's Hid imploring, Swoop the Spoiler tr the earth! AN AVIUMNG TIMA.T. LNO. XXIS.] JA PH ET, xrr snAnon or A. r.amscen. V.J" CONTINUED FRO.II OUR LAST. I think sonic people shook me by the hand, and others shouted as I walked in the open air, but I recollect no inure. I afterwards was informed that I had been reprieved, that I had been sent fur, and a long exhor tation delivered to me, for it was considered that my life must have been one of error, ar I should have applied to my fi iends, and have given my name. My not answering, was attributed to shame and confusion—my Mussy eye had not been eoticed—my totter. mg step, when led in by the jailers, attribut ed to other causer.; and the magistrates shook their heads as 1 was led out of their presence. The jailer had asked me several times where I intended to go. At last, I bud told him to seek my father, and darting away from him, I had run like a madman down the street. Ofcouree he had no long. er any power over me; but lie muttered, as I fled from him, "I've a notion he'll soon be 'locked up again, poor fellow! it's turned his brain for certain." As 1 passed along, my unsteady step naturally attracted the alien. lion of the passers by; but they attributed it to intoxication. Thus was I allowed to wander away in a state of madness, and be. fore night I was far from the town. What passed, and whither I had bent my steps, I cannot tell. All I know is, that after run. sling like a maniac, seizing every body by the arm that I met, staring at them with wild and flashing eyes; and sometimes in a solemn voice, at others in a loud, threatening tone, startling them with the interrogatory, ."Are you my father?" and then darting away, or sobbing like a child, as the humor took ice, I had crossed thin country, and three days afterwards I was picked up at the door of a house in the town of Reading, exhaur ted with fatigue and exposure, and nearly dead. When I recovered, I Ibund myself in bed, my head shaved, my arm bound up, alley repeated bleedings, and a linnale figure sitting by me. "God in heaven! where urn IP exclaim. ed I, faintly. "Thou host called often upon thy earthly father during the time ()filly illness, friend," replied a soil voice. "It rejoiced) me much to hear thee call upon thy Father which is in heaven. Be comforted, thou art in the hands of those who will be mindful of thee. Return thy thanks. in one short prayer for thy return to reason, and then sink again into repose, for thou must need it much." I opened my eyes wide, and perceived that a young person, in a quaker's dress, was sitting by the bed, working with her needle; an open prayer book was on a little table before her. I perceived also a cup, and parched with thirst, I merely said, "Give me to drink." She arose, and put a teaspoon to my lips; but 1 raised my hand, took the cup from her, and emptied it. 0 how .delightful was that draught! I sank down on my pillow, for even that slight ex ertion had overpowered me, and muttering, "God, I thank thee!" I wee immediately in a sound sleep, from which I did not awake for many hours. When I did, it was not daylight. A lamp was on the table, and an old nian, in a quaker's dress, was snoring very condbrtahly in the arm-chair. 1 felt quite refreshed with my long sleep, and was new able to recall what hail passed. I re membered the condemned cell, and the mat: trims upon which I lay, but all alter was in a stale of confusion: Here and there a fact or supposition was strong in my memory; but the intervals between were total blanks. was, at all events, free; that I felt convinc ed of, and that I was in the han Is of the sect who denominate themselves Quakers: but where Avert I? and how did I come here?-- , 'I remained thinking on the pat, and won dering, until the day broke, and with the daylight roused up my/watchful attendant. He yawned. stretched his arms, and wing from the chair; came to the side of my bed. I looked him in the face. "'last thou slept it friend?" , said he "I liave slept as much as I wish, uud would not disturb you," replied 1, '"for 1 wanted nothing." "Petadventuro I did sleep," replied the inan; "watching long a ,, reeth not with the flesh, although the spirit is most willing.— Itequh-est thou any thing?" "Yes," replied 1, "1 wish to know where I am?" "Verily, thou art in the town of Reading, in Berkshire, and in the house of Pheucus Cophagua." "oThu:zits!" exclaimed 1; "41r. Capita glet, the surgeon and apotheetary!" "Pheneas Copliagns is his mine; he !nab been admitted into our :wet, and holt mar. ried a daughter of our persuasion. Ile bath attended thee in thy fever awl thy freuey, without culling in . the aid of the ph) sician, therefore do I believe that he must be the man of whom thou speakest; ) et (loth he not follow up the healing art fur the lucre of gain." "And the young per,on who was at my bedside, is she his wife?" "Nay, friend, she is halt.sister to the wife of Pheneas Copbilges by second marriage, and a maiden, who was named Susannah Temple at the baptismal font; hut I will go to Pheneas Copliagus and acquaint him of your waking, for such were his directions." The man the quitted the room, leaving me quite astonished with the information he had imparted. Cophagus turned quaker!-- and attending me in the town of Rear!inf.:. In u short time, Mr. Cupbaps himself en. toted in his dressing.gown. "Japing!" said he, seizing my hand with eagerness, and then, as it recollecting, he checked hiimelf, and commenced in a slow tone, "Japhet Nvwlatal--truly glad am I—hum—verily do I rejoice--you. Ephraim—bet out of the ritom--and—so en." "Yea, I will depart, wee it is thy W. ding;" replied the man, quitting the loom. Mr. Cophngus then greeted ine iii his way; told the that lie had found me in sensible at the door of a house a hole way off, and had immediately recognised me.— Ile had hrinight me to his own home, hut without much hope of my reco% cry. He then begged to know by what strange chance I had been found in such a desolate condi tion. I replied, "that although I was able to listen, I did not feel myself equal to the exertion of telling so long a story, and that I should infinitely prefe'r that he should nar rate to me what had passed since we had parted at Dublin, and hew it was that I now found that he had joined the sect of quakers." "Peradventure—long word that—um— queer people—very good—and so on,"com inenced Mr. Cophagus; but as the reader will nut understand his phraseology quite so well us I did, I shall give Mr. Cophagus's history in my mmn version. Mr. Cophagus had returned to the small town.at which he resided, and on his art i val he had been called upon by a gentleman who was of the society of Friends, request. ing that he would prescribe for a niece of ' his, who was on a visit at his house, and had been taken dangerously ill. Cophagus, with his usual kindness of heart, immediate ly consented, and found that Mr. Temple's report was true. For six weeks he a ttei ded the young quakeress,nnd recovered her Item an imminebt and painful disease, in which she showed such fortitude and resignation, and such unconquerable good temper, that when Mr. Cophagus returned to his bache lor's establishment, he could not help reflect. ing upon what an invaluable wife she would make, and how much more cheerful his house would be with such a domestic part ner. In short, Mr. Cophagus fell in love, and like all elderly gentlemen who have so lung bottled up their affections, he became J most desperately enamoured; and if he lov. 1 ed Miss Judith Temple when he witnessed her patience and resignation under sutler- ing, how much more did he love her when he found that she was playful, merry 'and cheerful, without being boisterous, when re• stored to her health. Mr. Cophagus's at tentions could not he misunderstood. He told her uncle that he had thought seriously of wedding cake—white favors—marriage —family—and so on—aid to the young la dy he had put his cane up to his nose end prescribed, "A dose of matrimony—to be taken immediately." To Mr. Cophagus there was no objection raised by the lady, who was not in her teens, or by the uncle, who had always respected him as a worthy man, and a good Christian; but to marry one who was not of her persuasion, was not to be thought of. Her friends would not j consent to it. Mr. Cophagus was there-j fore dismissed, with a full assurance that the only objection which offered was, that he was not of their society. Mr. Cophagus walked home discomforted. Ho sat down on his easy chair, and tbund it excessively uneasy—he sat down to his sol itary meal, and found that his own company was unbearable—he went to bed, but found that it was impossible to go to sleep. The next morning, therefore, Mr. Cophagus re turned to Mr. Temple, and stated his wish to be made acquainted with the difference between the tenets of the quaker persuasion and that of the established church. Mr. Temple.gave him an outline, which appear. ad to Mr. Cophagus to he very satistnetory, and then refet red him to his niece for fuller particulars.. When a man enters into an argument with a full desire to be convinced, and with his future happiness perhaps de. pending upon that conviction; and when, further, those arguments are brought for ward by one of the prettiest voices,and back ed Iry the sweetest of smiles, it is not to he worideie.l at his soon becoming a proselyte. thus it was . with Mr. Cophagus, who, io a ROZERT VI:=1,V1 1 0.11, 22DITCP., P4'EL.ll3=lr. .84.11M 74,57.cnnzvr0n. "I WISH NO °Tuna HERALD, NO OTHER SPEAKER. OF )IY LIVING ACTIONS, TO KEEP IIINE HONOR. FRO3I CORRUPTION." az•zeo.lra.i.avza.73 a),12. 0 4103Pwcalre ZDMV2ZIZ..O.ITI v t , aaat. ! week, discovered that the peace, humility, I and good will, upon which the quaker !cu rets are founded, were much more congenial I to Ure true spirit of the Christian revelation than the Athanasian creed, to be sung or said in our established churches; and with his - conviction, M r. Cophagus requested ad. misston into the fraternity, and shortly after i his admission, it was thought advisable by the Friends that his bulb should be confirm. ed and strengthened by his espousal to Miss Judith Temple,"%vith whom, ut her request —and lie could reuse her nothing—he bad repaired to the town of Reading, in which her relations all resided; and 1 3 1:eneas Co pimps, of the society of Friends, declared himself to he as happy as a man could be. "Good people, Japhet—um—honest people, Japhet-•don't fight— little stiff—spirit moves —and SI on," said Mr. Cophagus, as he concluded his narrative, and then shaking are by the hand, retired to shave and dress. In Minn hour afterwards Ephraim came in with a draught, which I was desired to take. by !If r. Cophagus, arid then to try and sleep. This was good advice, and 1 billow ed it. I awoke after a long, refreshing sleep, and kund 31r. and 111 Ts. Cophagus sitting in the room, she at work and he oc• copied with a book. When I opened my eves, nnd perceived a female, I looked to ascertain if it was the young person whom Ephraim had stated to be Susannah Temple, not that I recollected her features exactly, bin I did the contour of her person. M ra. Cophagus was taller, and I had a fair scru tiny of her person befiwe they perceived that I was awake. Her face was very pleasing, features small and regular. She appeared to be about thirty years of age, and was stu diously neat and clean in her person. Her quaker's dress was not without sonic little departure from the strict fashion and form, sufficient to assist, without deviating from, its simplicity. If 1 might use the term, it was a little coquettish, and evinced that the wearer, had she not belonged to that sect, would have shown great taste in the adorn. meat of her person. Mr. Cophagus.altho' he did not think so himself, as I afterwards found out, was certainly much improved by his change ofcostume. His spindle-shanks, which, as I have before observed, were pe culiarly at vartan.:e with his little orbicular, orange-shaped stomach, were now conceal. ed in loose trousers, which- took ofTfrom the protuberance of the latter, and added digni ty to the former, blending the two together. so that his roundness be came fine by de grees, and beautifully less as it descended. Although, the quaker dress added very much to the substantiality of his appear ance, and was a manifest improvement, es pecially when he wore his broad brimmed hat. Having satisfied my curiosity, I mov ed the curtains so as to attract their atten tion, and Cophagus came to my bedside,and felt my pulse. "Good—very good--!-611 right— little broth—throw in bark—orhis legs--well as ever—and soon." "I am indeed much better this afternoon," replied I; "indeed, so well, that I feel as if I could get up." "Pooh!—tumble down—never do--lie a bed—get strong—wife—Mrs. Cophagus— Japhet —old friend." Mrs. Cophagus had risen from her chair, and come towards the bed, when her hus band introduced her in his own fashion.— "I am afraid that I have been a great trou ble, madam," said I. "Japhet Newland, we have done but our duty, even if thou vvert not, as It appears that thou art, a friend of my husband. Con sider, me, therefore, as thy sister, and I will regard thee as a brother; and if thou wouldst wish it, thou shalt sojourn with us, for so hash my husband communicated his wishes unto me." I thanked her for her kind expressions, and took the fair hand which was otlCred in such amity. Cophagus then asked me if I was well enough to inform him of what had passed since our 'last meeting, and telling me that his wife knew my whole history, and that I might speak before her, he took his seat by the side of the bed, his• wife also drew her chair nearer, and I commenced the narrative of what had passed since we parted in Ireland. When I had finished, tir. Cophagus commenced us usual, "Um —very odd--lose money—bad—grow hon• est—good—run away from friends—badL.:- not hung—good—brain fever--bad--come here—good--slay with us—quite comforta ble—and so on." "Thou hast suffered much,friendJaphet," said Mts. Cophagus, wiping her eyes; '•and I would almost venture to say, thou hast been chastised too severely, were it not that those whom He loveth, He chest iseth. Still thou art saved, and now out ofdanger; peradven ture thou wilt now quit a vain world, and be content to live with us; nay, as thou hast the example of thy former master, it may perhaps please the Lord to advise thee to become ono of us, and to join us as a friend. My husband was persuaded to the right path by me," continued she, looking fondly at him; "who knoweth but some ()four mai dens may also persuade thee to eschew a vu in, unrighteous world, and follow thy Re deemer in humility?" "Very true—um—very true," observed Cophagus, putting more quakertsm than u sual in his style, and drawing out his urns to treble their usual length; "Happy life— Japhet at peace—quiet ammo ments—think about it—urn—no hurry— never swear—by and by, held--spirit may move—um—not now—talk about it—get well—set up tilitip—and so on." I Wag ttrott with talking so mach, and hay ing taken' soinu ntatri,:hment i again fill a-, !sleep. When I awoke in the 'evening, I friend Cophagus and his wife were not in the room; but Susannah Temple, whom I Ihad first seen, and of whom I bad made en quiry of Ephraim, who was Cophagus's ser vant. She was sitting close 10 the light and reading, and long did I continue to gaze upon her, fearful of intenupting her. She was the most beautiful specimen of clear and transparent white that I ever had he. held; her complexion. was unrivaled--her eyes were large, but I could not ascertain their color, as they were cast down upon her book, and hid by her long fringed eye- lashes--her eyebrows arched and regular, as ifdrawn by a pair of compasses, and their' soft hair in beautiful cent rest with her snowy ! forehead—her hair was auburn, but mostly concealed within her cap—her nose was very straight, but not very large, and, her 1 • mouth was perfection. She appeared to be 1 between seventeet. and eigh.een years old,' and as far ifs I could ascertain, her figure was symmet iically perfect. Dressed as she was in tile neolest, simple-garb worn by the, femal e s of the society of Friends, she gave en idea of neatness, clennlineas, and pro priety, mien which I could have gazed fur I ever. She was, indeed, most beautiful. I' felt her beauty, her pnritv, and I could have I worshiped her as an angel. While I still i bad my eyes fixed upon her exquisite fea tures, site closed her book, and rising from her chair, came to the side of the bud.— That she might nut be snit tled at tie idea of my having been watching her, I closed my eyes, and pretended to slumber. She resumed her seat, and then 1 changed any position and spoke, "Is any one there?" "Yes, friend Newland, what is it that thou requirest?" said she, advancing. , "Woultha thou see Cophagus or Ephraim? I will summon Ihe m." , i "0 no," replied I; "why should I disturb them from their amusements or employ ments? I have slept a long while, and I would like to read n little, I think, Wray eyes are nut too weak." "Thou nit'st not read, but I may read unto thee," replied Susannah. "Tell me, what is it that thou wouldst have me read? 1 have .no vain books; but surely, thou thinkost not of them, after thy escape from dead►." "I care not what is read, provided - that you read to me," replied I. "Nay, but thou shouldst care; and be not wroth If! say to the° that thero is but ono book to whie."‘ thou shouldst now listen. Thou bast just been savedfrom deadly peril—thou heat been rescued from the jaws of death. Art thou not thankful? And to whom is gratitude most due, but to thy Heavenly Father, who bath been pleas ed to spare thee?" "You are right," replied I; "then I pray you to read to me from the Bible." Susannah made no reply, but resumed her scat, and selecting those chapters most appropriate to my situation, mad them in a beautiful and it - ulnas. sivo tone. If the reader will recall my narrative to his recollection, ho must observe, that religion lied but hitherto little of my thoughts. I hod lived tho life of most who livo in this world, -perhaps not quite so correct in morale as many people, for my code of morality was suited to circuilistances; us to religion. I had none. 1 had lived in the world, and fur the world. I had certainly bcon well in. strucled in the tenets of our faith when I was at the Asylum, but there, as in most other schools, it is made irksome, as a task, and is looked upon with almost a foelirg of aversion. No proper re. !igloos feelings are, or can ho, inculcated to a large number of scholars; it is the parent alone who can instil, by precept and example, that true sense of religion, which may serve us a guide through life. I had not read the Bible from the time that I quitted the Foundling Hospital. It was new to me, and when I now heard read, by that beautiful creature, passages equally beautiful, and so twit. cable to my situation, weakened with disease, and humbled in adversity, I was moved oven unto tears. Susannah closed the hook and came to the bed side. I thanked her; she perceived my emotion; and when I held out my hand she did not refuse hers. I kissed it, and it was immediately with drawn, and she loft the room. Shortly afterwaids Ephraim made his appearance. Cophagus and his wife also came that evening. but I saw 110 more ofSusannah Temple until the following day, when I again requested her to road to me. I will not detain the reader with an account of my re covery. In three weeks I was able to leave the room; during that time, I had become very inti mate with the whole family, and was treated as if I belonged to it. During my illness I bad cor. tainly shown more sense of religion than I had ever done before, I do not mean teeny that I was really religious. I liked to hear the Bible read by Susannah, and I liked to talk with her upon re. ligious subjects; but had Susannah been an ugly old woman, I very much doubt if I 'should have been so attentive. It was her extreme beauty— her modesty and fervor, which so became her, which enchanted me. I felt the beauty of religion, but it was through an earthly object; it was beau. ' tiful in her. She looked en angel, and I listened to her precepts us delivered by one. Still, what ever may be the cause by which a person's at. tention con be directed to so important a subject, so generally neglected, whether by fear of death, or by love towards an earthly object, the,advan. tages are the same; and although very far from what I oughttohnve been, I certainly was, tliroug h my admiration of her, a bettor man. Moreover, I was not a little in love. As soon as I was on the sofa, wrapped up in one of the dressing-gowns of Mr.Cophogus, he told me thnt the clothes in which I had liven picked up were all in tatters, and asked whether I would like to have others made accorc:b ing to the usua l tushion, or like those with whom I should. he trusted, in future reside. I bud al ready debated this matter in my mind. Return to the world I had resolved not to ch.; to follow up the object of my search appeared to me only to involve me in tlitileultie.; and what wore the in. tentions ofCoph'agus with regard to me, I knew not. I was hesitating, for I knew not what en. swer to give, when I perceived the pensive, deep blue eye of Susannah fixed upon me, watching at tentively, if nut eagerly, for my esponse. It decided tho point. "114' replied I, "you do not think that 1 shall disgrace you, I should wish to weer the dress of the society of Friends, ul. though not yet one of your body." "Etnt soon to be. I trust," replied Mr. Cophogus. "Ahab!" replied I, "1 am an outcast;" and look ed at Susannah 'rumple. "Not en,Japhet Newland," replied she. mildly; "1 um pleased that thou haat of thy own accord rejected yam attire. I trit,t s hat thou wilt not find that thou tut without irieude." -SRAM/. "While I AM with you," replied I, addressing myself to them all, "I consider it my duty to con. form to your manners in °vet) , wily, but by and by. IA lied I resume my search—" i l "And why shouldst thou resumes search which I must prove unavailing, and but lends thee into cr. ror and mildbrttitte? I am huryoung,Japhot New land, and not perhaps so able to advise, yet doth , it ttppeur to me, that the ,eareh can only be avid!. ing wi.en Metre by Iliese who lell thee. When they wish for thee they will seek thee, but thy L , .- ~ , , , , . tees Mg them is vain and If Ultlens.'" "nat." replied I,'"recolloct dint "enquiries have sheadv been made at the Foundling, and those who enquired Intro been sent away disappointed —they will enquire no more." "And is o pat cut's loves° trifling, that one Ms appointment will drive him tram the seeking of his child? No, no, Japhet; Wilton art yearned for, thou wilt he found, and fresh enquiries will be mnde• ' but thy search is unavailing, and already ling. t hou lost much time," "True, Susannah, thy advice is good," replied Mrs. Cuphogus; "in following a shadow, J;iphet kith much neglected the substance; it is time ti-at thou shouldst soul° thyself, and earn thy liveli. hood." "And do thy duty in that path of life to which it bath pleased God to call thee," cautioned Su ennnnh, who %%Ali Mrs. Coplittg us walked out of the roolll. • Cooliugus then took up the conversation, and pointing out the uselessness of my roving about, and the propriety of my settling in life, proposed that I should lake an apothecary's shop, for which lie would furnish the Men mi, and that he could en. sure me the custom of the whole society of Fr bonds in Reeding, which was very largo, en there was not one of the sect in that lino of business. "Ho come one of us, Japliet 7 -good business—marry by and by—hippy life=-littlo children—rind so on." I thought uf Susannah, and was rile nt.— Coplingua then said, I had better reflect upon his offer, and mak. up my determination. If that dal net suit me, lie would still give too all the uesith lance in his power. I did reflect long before I could make up my [Mud. I was still worldily inclined; still my fan cy wrath' revel in the idea of finding out my fath er in high life, end of once more appearing as a star of fashion, of returning with interest the con. tutnely I laid lately received, and to assuming as a right that position in society which I had hold under tithe colors. I could not bear the idea of sinking at once in to a tradesman, and probably ending toy days in obscurity. Pride was still my ruling' 1:111/1141111..-- Such were my first impulse'', and then I looked upon the other side of the picture. I was without the moans necessary to support myself; I could not return to high life without I discovered Inv parents in the first place,and in tho second, tennd them to bo such as my warm imagination had do. picted. I had no chance offinding them. I had already been long seeking in vain. I had been twice taken up to Bow.street—nearly lost my life in Ireland—Lad boon sentenced to death—bad been insane, and recovered by a miracle, and all in prosecuting tide useless search. Ail this had much contributed to cure mo of the monomania. I agreed with Susannah - that the search must be made by the other ( )allies, and not by me. 1 re called the treatment I had received from the world, the contempt with which I had been treat ed, the heartlessness of high life, and the little chime of my ever again being admitted into so ciety. I placed all this in juxtaposition with the kind ness of those with whom 1 now resided; what they had done already for me, and what they now offer ed, which was to make me independent by my own exertions. I weighed all in my mind; was still undecided, for my pride still carried its weight; when I thought of the pure, beautiful Su sannah Temple, and, my decision was made. I would not luso tho substance by running after shadows. That evening, with many thanks,4 accepted the kind offers of Ali. Cophugus, and expressed my determination of entering into the stmietynf Friends. "'l'lion bast chosen wisely," said Mrs. Copha. gis, extending her hand to mn; "and it i■ with pleasure that wo shall receive thee." "I welcome thee, Japhet Newland," said Su. sannali, also offering her hand, "and I trust that thou wilt find more happiness among those with whom thou art about to sojourn, than in the world of vanity and deceit, in which thou hast hitherto played thy part. No hanger seek an earthly fath er, who bath deserted thee, but a heavenly Father, who will not desert thee in thy afflictions." "You shall direct mo into the right path, Su sannah," replied I. "I am ton young to be a guide, Ja pha t," replied she, smiling; "but net too young, I hope, to be a friend." The next day my clothes came home,andl put them on I looked at myself in the glass,and was any thing but pleased; but as my bead was shaveitit was of lit• tic consequent e what I wore; so I consoled myself Mr. Cophagus sent for a barber and ordered mea wig, which was to be ready in a few days; when it was ready I put it on, and altogether did not dislike my appearance I flattered myself that if I was a quaker, at all events I was a very• good looking and a very smart one; and when,a day or two afterwards, a re union Of friends took place at Mr. Coph.agus's house to introduce me to them, I perceived,with much maths faction,that there was no young man who could com pete with me. After this I was much more reconciled to my transformation. Mr. Conhagns was not idle. In a few weeks he had rented a shop for ine,and furnished it much better than his own in Smithfield; the upper part of the house was let off,as I was to reside with the family When it was ready I went over with him,and was satisfi-i. all I wished for was Timothy as an assistant, but that wish was unavailing,as I knew not where to find him. That evening I observed to Mr Cophagus that I did not much like putting my name over the shop. The fact was,that my pride forbade it; and I could not bear.' the idca,that Japhet Newlaud,at whose knock every aristocratic door had flown open.should appear in gold letters sibme a shop window. "There arc many rea sons against it," observed I. "One is,that it is not my real name —I should like to take the name of Copha gus; another is,that the name, being so well known, ma}• attract those who formerly knew me,and I should not wish that they should come in and mock me; ano ther “Japhet Newland,” interrupted Susannah, with more severity than I ever had seen in her sweet coun tenance, "do not trouble thyself with giving thy sea 1101W ,seeing that thou host given every reason but the rightone—which is, that thy pride revolts at it." I was about to observe," replied I, "that it was a name that sounded of matnmon,aud not fitting for one. of our persuasion. But.Susanuah,you have accused Inc of pride, and I will now raise no further objections. Japhet Newland it shall be, and letns speak no more upon the subject." "If I have wronged thee, Japhet, much do I crave thy forgiveness," replied Susannah. , "But it is God alone who knoweth the secrets of our hearts. I was presumptuous.and you must pardon me." ' "Susannah,it is I who ought to plead for pardon— you know me better than! know myself. It was pride and nothing but pride—but you have cured me." "Truly have I hopes of thee now, Jai - iet," re plied Susannah, smiling. "Those who confess their faults will soon amend them; yet I do think there is seine reason in thy obscrvation,for who knowetb,but, meeting with thy Punier associates, thou mart spell thy name as thou listeth; and, peradventureot would be better to disguise it " So agreed 11r. - tuid Mrs. Cophagns, and T thstrefon, bad it written Gnout-land; and having engaged alter son of the aocietyattrongly recommended to nte,as an assistant, I to.,k possession of my abop,and was very anon busy itimakuvz up rfrescriptinns,and (lisps-eying my medicines in ull quarters of the goad ttnvst of Re ati slag Aral I was happy. I had empltottat daring Asa [WHOLE NO. 2`,t.'. . day; my profession was.at all events, liberal.. . l was dressed and lived as a gentleman, or rather, I should say, respectably. I was earning my own list lihnod. was a useful member of society; and when I retired home to nieals,and late at night.; found that if Cophis gus null his wife had retired, Susannah Temple al ways waited up, and remained with me a few snits. lides. I had never been iu love until 1 had fallen in with this perfect creature ; but may love fur h.r was Inot the love of the world ; I could not so depreciate her—l loved her as a superior ocing-1 loved her with fear and trembling. I felt that she Was too pure. too holy, too good, for a vain Worldly creature like myself. I felt as if my destiny depended upon her and her fiat; that if she favored toe, my happiness In this world and in the next were secured; that irate" rejected me,l was cast away for ever. Sot+ sinewy feeling for Susannah Temple,who,perfect as she was, was still a WOlll4ll. awl perceived her power ensr me;. but.unl ko ninny of her sex, exerted that power only to lead to what Was right. Insensibly , almost, my pride was quelled.nral I became bumble and religious y inclined. Even the peculiarities of the stet, their meeting at their places of worship, their drawling, - and their quaint manner of talking, no longer a subject of dislike. I found out causes and good rife,- sons for every thing which before appeared strange.— sermon+ in stones,and good in every thing. Months passed away—my bUsiness prospered-1 had nearly repaid the money advanced by Air. Cophagus. 1 Wits in beef!, and soul a qualter.itud 1 entered Into the fraternity with a feeling, ,that I could act , up to what I had promised I was happy,quite happy,aud yet I had nerve received from Su•annuh Tompletny thing further than the proofs of sincere friendship.— But I had much oilier society,and was now very i very intimate I found out what warm.what devoted feel ings were concealed under her modest.quiet exterior —how well her mind was stored, and bow right was that mind. Often,when I talked over past events, did I listen to her remarks,all tending to one Poit.t—rnanits ality and rut tun; often did I receive from her at first n severe. but latterly a kind rebuke, when my die. course was light and frivolous; but when.; Wks:dor merry subjects which were innocent: what could. be more joyous or more exhilarating than her 100 what more intoxicating than her sweet smile, vrhtp she approved (Amy sentiments? and when itaintated by the subject, what could be more musical erring* impassioned than her bursts of eloquence,which were . invariably followed by a deep blush, when she recol lected how shu had been curried away by the excita meat. There was one point upon which leengrattils• tad myself, which was, that she had received two or three unexceptionahle offers of marl lege dining the six months that I had been in lier company, and had refused them.- At the end of that pet iod, thanks to the assistance I received limo the Friends, I had paid Mr. Coplingus all the inouey which he had advanced, and found myself in pos. sesame ofa.flourishing business, and indepand;iiit. I than requested that I might bo allowed to pay an annual stipend fur my board and lodging, com mencing from the time I first cache to his houtio. Mr. Coplingus acid I was right—the terme'were easily arranged, and I was independent. Still my advances with Susannah were slow, but if shoe, they were sure. One day I observed to her, how happy Mr. Coplingue appeared to bo as a iliac:led man; her reply was, "Ho is, Japhet; he has work ed hard for his independence, and ho now is reap lug the fruits of his industry." Thnt is as much au to say that I 'meat do the lame, thought L'and that I have no business to propose fora wife. until I am certain that I am able to provide for her.— . - I have as yet laid up nothing, and en income but a capital. I felt that,, whether a party inter. ested or not, she was right, hod I redoubkid my diligence. [To BE CONTINUER.] VARIETY. OtrrnoonAPny.—At - a baker's, at -- this west end of London, the following vitally important intelligence is conveyed by a pa per in the window:—" Vitals baked here.' The Alexandria Gazette says: "The lion Canal Boar, imported from Glasgow, calcu• lated for speed, is now at the Alexandria Foundry, and will be shortly tried on the Canal." BErrixo.—lt n _was our misfortune (says the Juniata Journal) to have made a wager pending .the late Governor's election, which left one of our neighbors minus his time. piece. It has taught us a lesson that we shall endeavor to improve, and that it may be made servicable to others, we append a note we received in consequence, and.give it verbatim, et literatim, et punctuatini, and (as some typo has improved it) et poke it at him: Mifflintown Novembor2Oth 1835 • Mr F C Merklin Sir I wesh To Decline taking your paper and therefore wesh you to stop sending it at the End ot*Six months I Believe it is paid fur Yours &co Several sales of real estate, lying in and adjoining Cumberland, took plaice during the last week, to the amount of 8190,000 ---- being purchases from one individual to the amount of 8180,000 and from another, 816.- 000. These sales embrace a Grist Mill, Saw Mill, and large Farm, adjoining the sae of the Canal; one large Brick House, and the vacant corner on the public square in the town. Very high offers, we also understOnd, were made, but refused, for other property adjoining the town and scite of the. Canal; • [Cumberland Civilian. Married, on the 22d ult. at Fort Jackson, nn board of Canal Boat Gennessee, E. B. Briggs, Captain, Mr.. Thomas Mayntmoil, 'of Saratoga, to Mrs.— a wider. , lady from Ohio. The lady came on board at Bald°, and the gentleman at Jordon; strangers to each other. After a long court ship of one hundred and fortpthree, miles, they proceeded to the nuptial knot! A 11111.; gistrate at Fort Jackson officiated. Monrsr Warrrs.--41onsieur de Visomai i , who was keneral of the expedition against IVlessina, writing from that place to the kink, closed his letter in these words- 4 !To &Ash the affair, we only want ten thousand ineo:", lie gave the letter to seal* to Du Ter . r.?9, commissioner for the army, who wart aod., enough to add—" And a general." ' ''r HUMAN STURNIFTIII.....-It. is niteritimoky that, toward the end of the oevon►eenth emu. -`.` to r y, in Holland, four nom had 04 amount (T power which Strip uterkhadatork, fury afterward. The Lod bad vaatamulay changed.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers