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:.--