ought that it was better
to come to some decision previous to my going farther; and perceiving a
bench in front of a public-house, I went to it and sat down. I looked
around, and it immediately came to my recollection that I was sitting on
the very bench on which Timothy and I had stopped to eat our meal of
pork, at our first outset upon our travels. Yes, it was the very same!
Here sat I, and there sat Timothy, two heedless boys, with the paper
containing the meat, the loaf of bread, and the pot of beer between us.
Poor Timothy! I conjured up his unhappiness when he had received my
note acquainting him with our future separation. I remembered his
fidelity, his courage in defence, and his preservation of my life in
Ireland, and a tear or two coursed down my cheek.

I remained some time in a deep reverie, during which the various
circumstances and adventures of my life passed in a rapid panorama
before me. I felt that I had little to plead in my own favour, much to
condemn--that I had passed a life of fraud and deceit. I also could not
forget that when I had returned to honesty, I had been scouted by the
world. "And here I am," thought I, "once more with the world before me;
and it is just that I should commence again, for I started in a wrong
path. At least, now I can satisfactorily assert that I am deceiving
nobody, and can deservedly receive no contumely. I am Japhet Newland,
and not in disguise." I felt happy with this reflection, and made a
determination, whatever my future lot might be, that, at least, I would
pursue the path of honesty. I then began to reflect upon another point,
which was, whither I should bend my steps, and what I should do to gain
my livelihood.

Alas! that was a subject of no little difficulty to me. A person who
has been brought up to a profession naturally reverts to that
profession--but to what had I been brought up? As an apothecary--true;
but I well knew the difficulty of obtaining employment in what is termed
a liberal profession, without interest or recommendation; neither did I
wish for close confinement, as the very idea was irksome. As a
mountebank, a juggler, a quack doctor--I spurned the very idea. It was
a system of fraud and deceit. What then could I do? I could not dig,
to beg I was ashamed. I must trust to the chapter of accidents, and
considering how helpless I was, such trust was but a broken reed. At
all events, I had a sufficient sum of money, upwards of