ad passed since we had parted at Dublin,
and how 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,"
commenced Mr Cophagus; but as the reader will not understand his
phraseology quite so well as I did, I shall give Mr Cophagus's history
in my own version.

Mr Cophagus had returned to the small town at which he resided, and,
on his arrival, he had been called upon by a gentleman who was of the
Society of Friends, requesting 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, immediately consented, and
found that Mr Temple's report was true. For six weeks he attended the
young Quakeress, and recovered her from an imminent and painful disease,
in which she showed such fortitude and resignation, and such
unconquerable good temper, that when Mr Cophagus returned to his
bachelor's establishment, he could not help reflecting upon what an
invaluable wife she would make, and how much more cheerful his house
would be with such a domestic partner.

In short, Mr Cophagus fell in love, and like all elderly gentlemen who
have so long bottled up their affections, he became most desperately
enamoured; and if he loved Miss Judith Temple when he witnessed her
patience and resignation under suffering, how much more did he love her
when he found that she was playful, merry, and cheerful, without being
boisterous, when restored to her health. Mr Cophagus's attentions could
not be misunderstood. He told her uncle that he had thought seriously
of wedding cake--white favours--marriage--family--and so on; and to the
young lady he had put his cane up to his nose and 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 consent to it. Mr Cophagus was therefore dismissed,
with a full assurance that the only objection which offered was, that he
was not of their society.

Mr Cophagus walked home discomforted. He sat down on his easy chair, and
found it excessively uneasy--he sat down to his solitary meal, and found
that his own company was unbearable--he went to bed, but found that it
was imp