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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.