Sbtar Ss; it tosttillitast astittr VOL. 6--NO. 42.] THE GARLAND. -"With sweetest flowers cackled, From various gardens cull'd with cure." FROM THE FRANKLIN REPOSITORY. TO A KEEPSAKE. THOU art still as bright, dear token, As thou wcrt when first received, When the friendly words were spoken, Which too fondly I believ'd. The vow they plcdg'd is broken, That heart from me bath rang'd Yet I cherish thee—dear token, For mine bath never chang'd. And to me thou art a treasure Thus reviving moments fled, Though 'be with a mournful pleasure, As we think of friends long dead-- Ah no—grief bath its measure, When memory cheers the soul; Hut Friendship's cold erasure The past may not console. ' What though, in fancy's dreaming, -Thou mealiest to my view Tic smile so brightly beaming, The glance of kindness true,— The words of truer seeming,— Ah—all alike are vain.— flow shall hope's idle scheming, Delude my heart again? Yet, when those pleasures fleeting Awaken deep regret, I turn to her food cheating, And all my griefs forget; She plans a happier meeting When both again shall be What. in the first warm greeting, Is now ranted by thee. And thou again—dear token— As io a former hour, Shalt hear a promise spoken, With a pledge of holier power; A pledge thabncver broken. Its binding links shall be, And then, as now. dear token! Will I fondly cherish thee. CIIAMDER4BULIG, PA. 4,!) ttizk, iLe* o'#6A [No. MX.] JAPHET, IN SEARCH Or - A FATHER (e..T . CONTINUED Flto3l OUR LAST. I may as well describe him and the whole tableau. The room was long and narrow, and at the farther end was a large sofa, on which wail seated my father with his injured leg repos. ing on it. his crutches propped against the wall. On each side of him were two large poles and stands with a magnificent macaw. Next to the macaws were two native servants, arrayed in their muslin dresses, with their arms folded.— A hooka was in advance of the table before the sofa; it was magnificently wrought in silver,and the snake passed under the table, so that the tube was within my honored father's reach.— On one side of the room sat the two governors of the Foundling Hospital,on the other was seat ed Mr. Cophagits in his quaker's dress ; the empty chair next him had been occupied by Mr: Masferton. I looked at my father: he was *man of great size, apparently six feet three or four inches, and stout in proportion, without being burthened with fat; he wain gaunt broad shouldered and muscular, and I think must have weighed seventeen or eighteen stone. His head was in proportion to his body, and very large; so were all his features upon the same grand scale. His complexion was of a brownish yellow, and his hair of a snowy white. He wore his whiskers very Inge and joined together un der the thmat,and these, which were also white, from the circle which they formed round-his face, and contrasting with the colour of his skin, gave his toute ensemble much more the appea rance of a royal Bengal tiger than a gentleman. General De Benyon saw Mr. Ma•terton leading me forward to within a pace or two of the table before the general. "Allow me the pleasure of introducing your son, Japhet." There was no hand extended to welcome me. My father fixed his proud gray eyes upon me for a moment, and then turned to the governors of the hospital. "Is this the person, gentlemen, whom coo re ceived as an infant, and brought up as Japhet Newland?" The governors declared I was the it .me per son; that they had bound me to Mr. Cophagua, and had seen me more than once since I had quitted the asylum. "Is this the Japhet Newland whom you qe ceived from these gentlemen and brought up to your business , " "Yea, and veily—l do affirm the same— smart lad—good boy, and so un." '•1 will not take a quaker's affirmation—will you take your oath, sir ?" "Yea,'! replied Cophagus, forgo ting his quakership, "Take oath—bring bible—ktas book, and so on." "You then, as a quaker. have no objection to swear to the identity of this person," "Swear !" cried Cophagus. "yes. swear— swear now—not Japhet!—l'm damned—go to bell, and so on." The other parties present could not help laughing at this explosion from Cophagus, nei• ther could I. Mr. Ma•terton then asked the general if he required any more proofs. "No." replied the general discourteously; and speaking in Ilindostance to his attendants, they walked to the door and opened it. The hint was taken. Mr. Masterton saying to the others in an ironical tone. "After so longs sep aration. gentlemen. it must be natural that the general should wish to be left alone, that he may give vent to his paternal feelings " In the m ea n time. I was left .tending in the middle of the room, the gentlemen depared, and the two native servants resumed their stations on each side of the sofa. I felt humiliated and indig nant. but waited in Filence: at last try honored parent. who had eyed me for some time, com menced. "If ynu think. young men, to win my favor by your good looks, you are very much miutaken: you are too like your mother, whose memory is any thing but agree:able." The blood mounted to my forebear) at this creel observation: I folded my arms and looked my father ateadfully in the face. hot mslde no reply. The choler of the gentleman was raised. "It appears thst I hove found a most diitiful son." I was 'pout to make an angry answer, w h en 1 rec"llected myself, and I courteously replied, "My dear general, depend upon it that your son will always be rea'!y to pay duty to whom duty is due; but excuse me, in the agita tion of this meeting you have forgotten those lithe attentions which cringe.) , demamis; with your permission I will take a chsir, and then we may comerse more at our ease. 1 hope your leg is better ". ' I said this with the blandest voice and the most studied politeness, and drawing a chair towards the table. I took my seat; fie I expect. ed, it put my honored father in a tremendous . rage. "If this is a specimen, sir, of your duty and respect, sir, I hope to see no more of them.— To whom your duty is clue, sir!—and pray to whom is it not due sir, if not to the author of your existence?" cried the general,striking the Cable before him with his enormous fist, so as to make the ink fly out of the stand some inch es high, and bespatter the papers near it. "Hy dear father, you are perfectly correct: duty, as you say, is due to the author of our ex istence. If i recollect right, the command ment says, "Honor...your father and your mo ther;" but at the same time, ill may venture to offer an observation, are there not such things as reciprocal duties--some which arc ev en more paramount in a father than the mere begetting of a son?" "What do you mean, sir, by these insolent remarks?" interrupted my father. "Excuse me. my dear father, I may be wrong; but if so, I will bow to your superior judgment; but it does appear to me that the mere hanging me in a basket at the gate of the Foundling Hospital, and leaving me a bank-note of fifty pounds to educate and maintain me until the age of twenty-four, is not exactly all the duties incumbent upon a parent. If you think that they are. lam afraid that the world, as well as myself, will he of a different opinion. Not that I intend to make any complaint, as I feel assu- red that now circumstances have put it into your power, it is your intention to make me amends for leaving me so long in a state of des tiitrion, and wholly dependent upon my own resources." "You do, do you, sir? Well now, I'll tell you my resolution, which is, there is the door—go out, and never let me see your face again." "My clear father, as I am convinced that this is only a little pleasantry on your part, or per haps a mere trial whether I am possessed of the spirit and determination of a De Itenyon, I shall of course, please you by not complying with your Immorotia requeq." '•Won't you, by G —d!" roared my father: then turning to his two native servants, he spoke to them in Hindostance. They inime diately walked to the door, threw it aide open, and then coming back to me, were about to take me by the arms. I certainly felt my blond boil, but I recollected how neces , ary it was to keep my temper. I rose from my chair, and advancing to the side of the sofa, said, My dear father, as I do perceive that you do not require your crutches at this moment, you will not perhaps object to my taking one.— These foreign scoundrels must not be permit ted to insult you tht ough the person of your on• ly son " "Turn him nut," roared my father. The natives advanced, but I whirled the crutch round my head, and in a moment they were both prostrate. As soon as they gained their feet I attacked them .again, until they made their esc•rpe out of the room; I then shut the door and turned the key. "Th•Ait you my dear sir," said I, returning the crutch to where it was before. "Starry thanks for thus permitting me to chastise the insolence of those black scoundrels, whom I take it for granted you will immediately dia. charge;" and I again took my seat in the chair bringing it closer to him. The r..ge of the general was now beyond all htqinciai eho white foam wag spluttering out of big mouth, as he in vain endeavored to find words. Once Ire actually rose from the sofa, to take the law in his own hands, but the effort seriously injured his leg, and he threw himself down in pain and rthappoiramont. "Sty dear father, I am afraid that, in your anxiety to help me, you have hurt your leg a. gain," said 1, in • soothing voice. "Sirralt, sirrah," exclaimed he at last; "if you think that this will do you are very much mil taken. Your don't know me. You may turn out a couple of cowardly black; but now show you that lam not to be played with. I discard you for ever—l disinherit —I disacknowledge you. You may take your choice, either to quit this room, or be put into the hands of the po lice." "The pollee, my dear sir! What can the police do? I may call in the police for the as sault just committed by your seryants,and hive them up to Bow street, but you cannot charge me with an avatolt " 'Rut IA ill, by G—, sir, hue or not true•" "Indeed you would not, my dear lather. A De Benyon would never be guilty of a lie.-- Besiden, if you were to call in the police? wish to argue thin matter coolly. because ascribe your present little burst of ill-humor to your suffering's from your unfortunate accident. Allow ing then, my dear father, that you were to charge me with an assault, I should immedi ately he tinder the necessity of charging you also, and then we must both go to Bow street t. gether. Were you ever at Bow street, gen eral?" The general made no reply, and I proceeded. "Besides, my dear sir, only ims ngit e how very awkward it would be when the magistrate put you on your oath, and asked you to make your charge. What would you be obliged to declare? That you had married when young. and finding that your wife had no for tune, had deserted her the second day after your marridge. That you, as an officer in the army. and the Honorable Captain De Benyon, had hung up your child at the gates of the Foundling Hospital—that you had again met your wife married to another. and had been an accomplice in concealing her capital offence of bigamy, & had meetings with her, although she belonged to another. I say meetings,for you did meet her, to receive her directions about me.-- I am charitable and suspect nothing—others will not do so. .Then, after her death, you come home, and enquire about your son. Hie identity is established—and what then? Not only you do not take him by the hand, in com mon civility. I might say. but you first try to turn him out of the house, and then give him in charge of the police: and then yen will have to state for what. Perhaps you will answer me that question, for I really do not know." ny this time my horrid father's wrath had to a certain degree subsided; he heard all I had to say, and he felt how very ridiculous would have been his intended proceedings, and as his wrath auhs;ded, so did his pain increase, he had seriously injured Wm leg, and it was swelling rapidly —the bandages lightened in conse• quence, and he was ' , offering under the acutest pain. "Oh, oh!" groaned he. "My clear father, can 1 assist you?" • "Ring the bell, sir." "There is no occasion to summon ass:stance while I em here, my dear general; I can attend ,yon professionally, and, if you will allow me, will soil:so relieve your pain. Your leg has •woller► from exertion, and the bandages most he loosened." He made no reply, but Ma features were dis torted with extreme pain. I went to him, and proceeded to unloose the bandages, which gave him considerable relief. I then replaced them secondum artem, and with great tender ness, and going to the sideboard, took the lo tion which was standing there with -the other S 7 non En s, 77131TE1 111DDLETON, EDITOR., 1 5 1733:1113Era1l AND PROPRIETOR. "I WISH NO OTHER HERALD, NO OTHER SPEAKER OF MY LIVING ACTIONS, TO KEEP MINE HONOR FROM CORRUPTION."-SHAHS. (i:l,2VsTitaZl3 l lP,lllO O LP4Q 9 112(DYP11A17 0 cErao)razz:alr azzac, "That is as much as to say that your father is no gentleman; and this, 1 presume, is a specimen of your filial duty," replied the general, warmly. "Far from it, sir; there are many gentlemen who, unfortunately, cannot command their tern pers,nnd are more to be pitied than blamed for it: hut, sir, when such happens to be the case, they invariably redeem their error, and amply so, by , expressing their sorrow and offering an apology." "That is as much as to say, that you expect me to apologise to you." "Allow me, sir, to ask you, did you ever know a Do Benyon submit to an Insult?" "No sir, I trust not." "Then,sir,those whose feelings efpride will not allow them to submit to an insult, ought never to insult others. If, in the warmth of the moment, they have done so, that pride should Immediately induce them to offer apology, not only due to the party, but to their own characters. There is no disgrace in making an apology when wo are in error, but there is groat disgrace in withholding such an act of common justice and reparation." "I presume that I am to Infer from all this,that you expect an apology from me?" "General De Benyon, as far as I am concerned. that is now of little importance; we part, and shall probably never meet again; if you think that it would make you feel more comfortable, I am will ing to receive it." "I must suppose by that observation, that you fully expect it, and otherwise will not stay?" "I never had a thought of staying,goneral; you have told me that you have disinherited and die. carded-me forever; no one with the feelings of a man would over think of remaining after such a declaration." "Upon w hat forms, then, sir,am I to understand that you will consent to remain with mo, and for get all that has passed?" "My terms aro simple, general; you must say that you retract what you have said, and are vory sorry for having insulted me." "And without I do that, you will never come hero again?" "Most decidedly not, sir. I shall always wish ynn well, pray for your happinoss,be sorry at your death, and attend your funeral as chief mourner, although you disinherit mo. That is my duty, in regard for my having taken your name, and your having acknowledged that I am your son; but live with you, or even see you occasionally, I will not, alter what hue passed this day, without you mako mo an apology." "I was not aware that it was necessary for a lather to apologise to his son.g "Ifyou wrong a stranger, you, offeran apology; how much mote is itthie to a near relation?" "But a parent has claims on his own son, sir,for which he is bound to tender his duty." ."I grant it in the ordinary course of things. In bottles, and wetted the bandages. In a few minutes he was quite relieved. ."Perhaps, sir," said 1, "you had better try to sleep a little; 1 will take a book, and shall have great pleasure in watching by your side." Exhausted with pain and violence, the general made no reply; ho fell back on the sofa, and, in a short time, he snored most comfortably. "I have conquered you," thought I, as I watched him as ho lay asleep. If I have not vet, I will—that I am resolved." I walked gently to the door, un locked it, and opening it without waking him,or. dorod some broth to be brought immediately; say ing that the general was asleep, and that I would wuit for it outside. I accomplished this little manceuvre, and roclosed the door, without waking my fattier, and then I took my seat in the chair and resumed my book, having placed the broth on the aide of the fire•grato to keep it warm. In a bout an hour,ho awoke and looked around him. "Do you want any thing, my dearest father?" enquired I. The general appeared undecided as to whether to recommence hostilities, but at last lie said, "1 wish the attendance of my servants, sir.' "The attendance of a servant never can bo e. qual to that of your own son, general," replied 1, going to the fire, and taking the basin of broth, which I replaced upon the tray, which contained the et ceteras on a napkin; "I expected you would require your lucid], and I have had it ready for you." "II was what I did require, air, I must acknowl edge," replied my father, and without further re mark he finiabed the broth. I removed the tray, and then went for the lo tion, and wetted the bandages on his leg. "Is there any thing else I can do for you, air?" said I. "Nothing-1 am very comfortable." "Then, sir," replied I , "I will now take my leave. You have desired me to quit your pros.. once for ever, and you attempted force. I resist. ed thiit,because I would not allow you to have the painful .remembrance that you hod injured one who had strong claims upon you,nnd had never in jured you. 1 resented it,also,becaurie I wished to prove to you that I was a Do lionyon, and had spirit to resent an insult. But,general,if you im agine that I had come hero with a determination of forcing myself upon you, you are much mista. ken. lum too proud, and happily am indepen dent by my own exertions, so as not to require your assistance. Had you received me kindly, believe me you would have found a gratefurand effect innate heart lo have met that kindness. You would have found a son,whose sole object through life has boon to discover his father, after whom ho has yearned, who would have been delighted to I have administered to his wants, to have yielded to his wishes, to have soothed him in his pain,and to have watched him in his sickness. Deserted us I have been for so many years, I trust that I have not disgraced you, General Do Bonyon; and if ever I have done wrong, it has been from a wish to discover you. I can appeal to Lord ‘Vinder. nicer for the truth of that assertion. Allow me to any, that it is a very severe trial—an ordeal which fow pass through with safety—to he thrown as I have been upon the world, with no friend, no parent to assist, or to advise me, to have to bear up against the contingency of being of unacknowl. edged and perhaps disgraceful birth. It is hard. or still, when I expected to find my dearest wishes realised, that without any other cause than that of my features resembling drop of my mother," t am to be cast away. One thing,General De Berry. on, I request, and I trust it will nut be, denied, which is, that I may resume the name which I am entitled to. I pledge you that I never will disgrace it. And now, sir, asking and expecting no more, I take my leave; and you may be asaur. ed, that neither poverty, privation, nor affliction of any kind, will over induce me to again intrude into'your presence. General Do Benyon,farewe for ever." I made my father a profound bow, and was quit. tint; the room. "Stop, sir," said the general. '•Stop ono mo ment, it you please." I obeyed. "Why did you put me out of temper? Answer me that." "Allow mo to observe sir, that I did not put you out of temper; and what is more, that I never lost my own temper during the insult and injury which I so undeservedly and unexpectedly have receiv ed." "But that very keeping your temper made me more angry, air." "That is very r ossible; but surely I was not to blame. The greatest proof of a perfect gentleman is, that he is able to command his temper, and I wished you to acknowledge that I was not without such pretensions." this life; but, General Do Bonyon, what claims have you as a parent upon me? A son in most ca ses is indebted to his parents for their care and at tention in infantv—his education—his religious instruction—his choice of a profession, and his advancement in life, by their exertions and inter. est; and when they are called away, ho has a roe. sellable expectation of their leaving him a portion of their substance. They have a heavy debt of gratitude to pay for what they have received, and they aro further checked by the hopes of what they may hereafter receive. Up to this time, sir, I have not received the first,nnd this day I am told that I need not expect the last. Allow me to ask you, General Do Banyan, upon what grounds you claim flan me a filial duty? certainly not for ben. efits received, or for benefits in expectation: but I feel that I urn intruding, and therefore, sir, once more, with every wish fur your happiness, I take my leave." I wont oft and had half closed the door after me, when the general cried out, "Stop—don't go—Ja; phot—my son--I was in a passion-1 beg your pardon—don't mind what I said—l'm a passion. ate old fool." As he uttered this in broken sentonces,l return. ed, to him. He held out his hand. "Forgive me, boy—forgive your father." I knelt down and kiss ed his hatid; he drew mo towards him,and I wept upon his bosom. It was some time before we were sufficiently composed to enter into conversation, and then I tried my utmost to please him. Still .there was naturally a roatraint on both sides; but I was so particular and devoted in my attentions,so careful of giving offence, that when he complained of weariuess,and a wish to retire, ho ati?ulated that I should be with him to breakfast on the next morning. I hastened to Mr. Mnsterton, although it was late, to communicate to him ell that had passed; he heard me with great interest. "Japhet," said he, "you have done will—it is the proudest day of your life. You have completely mastered him. 'rho royal Bengal tiger is tinned. I wish you joy, my dear fellow. Now I trust that all will be well. But keep you own counsel, do not let this ho known at Reading.. Lot them still imagine that your father is as onssionate as ever,which lie will be, by-the-by, with every body else. You have still to follow up your success, and leave mo to help you in other matters." I returned home to the Piazza; and thankful to Heaven for the events of the day, I anon fell fast asleep, and dreamed of Susannah Temple. The nexr morning I was early at the Adelphi Hotel; my father had not yet risen, but the native ser vants who passed in and oat. attending upon him, and who took care to give mo n wide berth, had informed him that "Burro Saib's" son was come, and ho sent for rue. His leg was vary painful and uncomfortable, sod the surgeon had not yet made his appearance. I arranged it us before, and he then dressed, nod came out to breakfast. I had said nothing Worn the servants, hot as soon as he was comfortable on the sofa I took his hand, and kissed it, saying • Good morning, my dear father; I hope you do nut repent of your kindness to me yesterday?" "No, no; God bless you, boy. I've boon think. ing of you all night." "All's right," thought I, "and I trust to bo able to keep it so." I shall pass over a fortnight, during which' was in constant attendance upon my father. At times he willAd fly out in a most violent manner, but I Inv:glibly fame my temper, end *ben' fr Was . all over, would laugh at him, generally repeating and acting all which he had said and done during his paroxysm. I found this rather dangerous ground at first, but by degrees ho became used to it, and it was wonderful how it acted as a chock upon him. He would not at first believe but that I ex aggerated when the piclure was held up to his view, and lie was again calm. My father was not naturally a bad tempered man, but having been living among a servile rnee,und holding high command in the army, he had gradually acquired a habit of authority; and an impatience °feature. diction, which was unbearable to all around.— Those who were high spirited and sensitive, shun ned him; the servile and the base continued with him for their own interests, but trembled nt his wrath. I had, during the time, narrated to my father the events of my life, and I am happy to say, had, by attention and kindness, joined with firm• nese and good temper, acquired a dominion over him. I had, at fits request, removed to the hotel, and lived with him altogether. .His leg was rap. idly arriving at a state of convalio.conce, and he now talked of taking a house and setting up his establishment in London. I had seen hut little of Mr. Masforton during this tune, as I had re mained in doors in attendance upon the general. I had written once to Mr. Cophagus, stating how I was occupied, but saying nothing about our reconciliation. One morning Mr. Mastorton called upon us, and after a little conversation with the general, ho told mo that he had persua ded Mr. Cophagus to leave Reading and come to London, and that Susannah Temple was to come with him "On a visit?" enquired 1. "No, not on a visit. 1 have seen Cophagus, and be is determined to out the gushers and re side in London altogether." "What! does he intend to return to the pomps and vanities of this wicked world ?" "Yes, I believe so, and his wife will join him She hae no objection to decorate her pretty per son." "I never thought that she had—but Susan nah Terople-----" '•When Susannah is away from her friends, when she finds that her sister and brother-in. law no longer wear the dress, and when she is constantly in vain company, to all which please to add the effect I trust of my serious admoni- tions, she will soon do as others du, or she is no woman. This is all my plan, and leave it to me —only play your part by seeing as much of her as you can." "You need not fear thnt," replied I. "Does your father know of you: attachment 1' enquired Mr. Mnsterton. "No, I passed her over without mentioning her name," replied I. "It is too soon yet to talk to him about my marrying; in fact, the proposal must, if possible, coma from him. Could not you manage that?" "Yes, I will if I can; but as you say, wait while. Horo rs their address—you must come to-morrow if you can; and do you think you can dine with me on Thursday?" "Yes, if the general continues improving; if not, I will sendlyoti The next day I complained ors headache, and said that I would walk out until dinnor time. 1 mstened to the address given me by Mr. Master on, and found that Mr. Cop , hagna end his wife vere out, but Susannah remained at home. Af. er our first questions, I enquired of her how she iked London. "I am almost afraid to say, Saphet, at least to you; you would only laugh at me." "Not so, Susannah; I never laugh when I know people are sincere." "It appears to me, then, to he a vanity fair." "That there is more vanity in London, than any other city, I grant," replied I, "but recol lect that there ure more people, and more wealth. I do not think that there is more in proportion, than in other towns in England; and if there is more vanity, Susannah, recollect also, that there is more industry, more talent, and I should hope, a greater proportion of good and honest people among its multitudes; there Is also, unfortunate ly, more misery and more crime." "I believe you are right, Japhot. Aro you a ware that Mr. Cophagus has put off his plain attire ?" "If it grieves you, Susannah, it grieves me also; but I presume he finds it necessary not to be so remarkable." "For him I could find some excuse; but what, will you say, Japhot, when I tell you that my own sister, born and bred up to our tenets, bath also much deviated from the dress of the females of our sect?" "In what bath she made an alteration 7" "She has a bonnet of plaited straw with rib bons." "Of what color are the ribbonsl" "Nay, of the same as her dress—of grey." "Your bonnet, Susannah, is of gray silk; I do not see that there is vanity in descending to straw, which is a more homely commodity. But what reason has she given?" "That her husband wills it, as he does not like to walk out with her in her quaker's dross." "Is it not hor duty to obey her husband even as I obey my father, Susannah' But lam not ashamed to walk out with you in your dress; so if you have no objection, let me show you a part of this great city." Susannah consented; we had often walked to gether in the town of Reading; she was evident. ly pleased at what I said. I soon escorted her to Oxford street, from thence down Bond street, and all the more frequented parts of the metrop olis. Her dress naturally drew upon her the casual glance ofthe passengers, but her extreme beauty turned the glance to an ardent gaze, and long before wo had finished our intended walk, Susannah requested that I would go home. She was nit only annoyed but almost alarmed at the constant and reiterated scrutiny which she un derwent, ascribing it to her dress and not to her lovely person. As soon as we returned, I sat down with her. "So I understand that Mr. Cophagus intends to reside altogether in London." "I .have not heard so: I understood that it was business which called him hither for a lbw weeks." "I trust not, for I shall be unhappy here." ".flay I ask why?" "The people are rude—it is nut agreeable to walk out." "Recollect, my dear Susannah, that those of your sect are not so plentiful in London as else where, and if you wear a dress so different from other people, you must expect that curiosity will be excited. You cannot blame them—it is you who make yourself conspicuous, almost saving to the people by your garment, "come and look at me." I have been reflecting upon what Mr.' Mnaterton said to you at Reading,A.l do not know whether he was not right in calling it a garb of pi ide instead of a garb of humility." "If I thought so, Japhet, even I would throw it off," replied Susannah. "It certainly is not pleasant dint every one should think that you walk out on purpose to bo stared at, yet such is the ill-natured construction of the world, and they will never believe other wise. It is possible, I should think, to dress with equal simplicity and neatness, to avoid gay co lors, and yet to dross so as not to excite observe "l hardly know what. to say; ,but that you all appear against me, and that sometimes I f . e . el that I ant too presumptuous in thus judging for my self." "I am not against you, Susannah; I know you will do what you think is ri2ht; and I shall re. spect you for that, even if I disagree with you; but I must say, that if'my wife were to dress in such a way as to attract the public gaze, I should feel too jealous to approve of it. Ido not there fore blame Mr. Copliagus for inducing his pretty wife to make some alteration in her attire, nei ther do I blame but I commend her for obeying the wishes of her husband. Hor beauty is his, and not common property." Susannah did not reply; she appeared very houghtful. "You disagroo with me, Susannah," said Lail ter a pause; "I am sorry for it." "I cannot say that I do, Japhet. I have learnt a lesson this day, and in future mast think more humbly of myself, and be more ruled by the opin ions and judgments ofothers." Mr. and Mrs. Cophag us then came in. Copha gus had resumed his coat and waistcoat, but not his pantaloons or Hessians; his wife, who had a very good taste in dress, would not allow him.— She was in her gray silk gown, but wore a large handsome shawl, which covered all but the skitts; on her head she had a Leghorn bonnet, and car. tainly looked very pretty. As usual, she was all good humor and smiles. I told them that we had been walking out, and that Susannah had been much annoyed by the staring of the people. "Always so," said Cophagus, "never mind— girls like it—feel pleased—and so cm." "You wrong me _much, brother Cophagus," ro pliod Susannah, "it pained meoxceedingly.“ "All very well to say so —know better—sly puss —will went dross—people say, pretty quaker— and so on." Susannah hastily left filo room after this attack, and I told them what had passed. "Mrs. Coplingus," said "order a bonnet and shawl like yours for her without telling her, and perhaps you will persuade her to put them on." Mrs. Cophagus thought the idea excellent, and promised to procure them. Susannah not mak. mg her teappeat once, I took leave and arrived at the hotel in good time for dinner. "Japhet," said the general to me as we were at able, "you have mentioned Lord Windermear very often, have you called upon him lately?" "No, air, it is now two years and more since I have seen him. When I was summoned to town to meet you, I was too much agitated to think of any thing else,and since that 1 have bad too much pleasure in your company." "Say rather, my good boy,that you have nursed me so carefully that you have neglected your friends and your health. Take my carriage to morrow, and call upon him. and atter that you had better drive about a little, for you have been looking pale these last few days. I hope to get out myself in ashort time, and then wo will !Live plenty of amusement together in setting up our establishment." [TO BE COITIMIED.] GRATITUDE.-A. very poor aged man, busied in planting and grafting appletreas, wa rudely interrupted by this interrogl tion.--"Why do you plant trees, who can not hope to eat the fruit of themi" He raised hiinself up, and leaning upon his spade, replied, "some one planted trees for me before I was born, and I have eaten the fruit; I now plant for others, that the moral ofgratitude may exist when I am dead and gone."—Educalion Jour. F,►YErrE COUNTY contains 6094 taxables, deaf and dumb persons 14. Slaves 4. In- crease since 1825, 220. - [WHOLE NO. 302. tar AND REPUBLICAN BANNER. GETTYSBURG, JAN VARY 18, 1838, Let the Malt be told! 0::7 - We find the following artiele,crechted to the New York Star, in the Frederick "Herald" and "Examiner," of late dates:* Pooh! Mr. Thaddeus Stevens and two9ieCeders from the liarrishurgh convention, have published. an address, setting forth that they had discovered "a fatal conspiracy against Anti-Masons." The conspi racy was that Stevens did not happen to be nomina ted as vice president. We are not surprised that the Herald should give place to so vile a slander upon a distinguished member of our party, as the Editor is a high and bigoted Mason; but that the slander should be rnechoed by the Examiner is somewhat mortifying, after hearing that its Editor is highly distinguish ed for his courteous liberality. But many pure and high-minded men have been con. pelted to bow to the majesty of the Lodge! We have said that the article copied contained a vile slander against Mr. Ste vens, because it states that ho wished and expected to be nominated by the ConVen tion for the Vice Presidency. Ono . fact is sufficient to sustain us: When it was found that Mr. Stevens could not swallow such Anti•Mnsonry as that put forth by riann, and would not consent to merge Anti- Masonry into a Harrison party, but would comend for the appointment of Delegates to a National Convention, a .Committee was appointed to, ,(and did,) wait upon him, be• fore be seceded, and inform him, that if he would acquiesce in thC nomination of Gen. Harrison by the -convention, tin SHOULD ItE PLACED 'ON THE SAME TICKET FOR THE VICE PRESIDENCY, AN 0 THAT HE SPURNED THE.OFFER AS COR• RUPT AND INSULTING ! This we know to be a fact, which can not be contradicted. To theechoes.of the Lodge, we therefore say,: LET THE TRUTH Er. TOLD. • - P. S. Since the above was prepared, we have received the Pittsburg Gazette, containing the following corroboration of our statement,by J.C.GuLELAfm,Esq. one of the Editors of the Ptttsburg To the Editors of the Pittsburg Calcite. MESSRS. CRAIG AND GRANT-AYill you oblige me with a notice of a piece of cruel injustice committed by some one lately, in Poulson s s Advertiser. The course which Mr. STEvENs has deemed it his duty to pur sue, in regard to the nomination of Harrison, is imputed to selfishness! That great cham pion of our cause is set down as;a disappoint ed man, jealous of Mr. Todd! opposed to Harrison's nomination because it went to de. prive him of a nomination for the Vice Presi dency. Jealous of Mr. Todd! Ridiculous —it is every word the reverse of the truth. I know that Mr. Stevens could not have been persuaded to accept any office from Gov. Ritner, though zealously disposed to support his administration. It was with difficulty that he was induced to be a candi date for tire Assembly, for the purpose of assisting to su• tam Mr. Ritner, and in order to do somet hingeffectlial,in a legislative way, against Masonry. He considered the House the proper theatre of action for his purpose. As to the Vice Presidency—the defence of this pure minded man makes it necessary to state the fact:—l-was authorized to sone., it Mr. Stevens to ato.rpt a nomination for the Vice Presidency upon the Harrison tic ket. It is unnecessary now to say by whom —the fact will not be questioned—it was by an authority competent to have made the offer effectual, if it had been accepted. • 1 knew it was utterly incompatible with the views and principles of Mr. &evens, and forbore to apprize him of it until after the- Harrison ticket was closed. I thetemen— tioned it as a matter for us to laugh at, that my utinumageableness had deprived him of the chance of attaining a conspicuous sta tion! He replied that 1 had not deprived him of that chance, for when I had omitted or declined to negociatc,tiother person was sent to make that proposition to him. Mr. Stevens, possessing an independent fortune, has contributed with great liberality for the promotion of Anti. Masonry, not Only in his own county, but in other quarters, without wishing to remain in public stations, or derive from the cause any selfish advan• Cage--devoted to it with the zeal of an atio.: litionist, he regards with abhorrence the compromising,trading projects of the politi cal cormorants who are seeking only to turn matters of principle into mere instruments of power and plunder. Let those who have carried the nomination of Harrison, in vin. lotion of our usages and principles, go oa establish their purpose, whatever it may be, good or bad. Let them enjoy the advan. Cages gained by the earls and sacrifices of others; but let those others, who manifestly are not acting, from selfish considerations, . but from the revrrse, be exempted frentill such unwarranted imputations. As 'they are not likely to have any reward for their labors, but tho consciousness of patriotic, motives, let their characters not be carried offamong the spoils. Gentlemen, I am your% J. C. GI LueLANA:.--
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