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 impossible to go to sleep. The next morning, therefore, Mr Cophagus returned to Mr Temple, and stated his wish to be made acquainted with the difference between the tenets of the Quaker persuasion and those of the Established Church. Mr Temple gave him an outline, which appeared to Mr Cophagus to be very satisfactory, and then referred 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 depending upon that conviction; and when, further, those arguments are brought forward by one of the prettiest voices, and backed by the sweetest of smiles, it is not to be wondered at his soon becoming a proselyte. Thus it was with Mr Cophagus, who in a week, discovered that the peace, humility, and good-will, upon which the Quaker tenets are founded, were much more congenial to the true spirit of the Christian revelation than the Athanasian Creed, to be sung or said in our Established Churches; and with this conviction, Mr Cophagus requested admission into the fraternity, and shortly after his admission, it was thought advisable by the Friends that his faith should be confirmed and strengthened by his espousal of Miss Judith Temple, with whom, at her request—and he could refuse her nothing—he had repaired to the town of Reading, in which her relations all resided; and Phineas Cophagus, of the Society of Friends, declared himself to be as happy as a man could be. "Good people, Japhet—um—honest people, Japhet—don't fight—little stiff—spirit moves—and so on," said Mr Cophagus, as he concluded his narrative, and then shaking me by the hand, retired to shave and dress.
Chapter LXII
I fall in love with religion when preached by one who has the form of an angel.
In half an hour afterwards Ephraim came in with a draught, which I was desired to take by Mr Cophagus, and then to try and sleep. This was good advice, and I followed it. I awoke after a long, refreshing sleep, and found Mr and Mrs Cophagus sitting in the room, she at work and he occupied with a book. When I opened my eyes, and 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, but I did the contour of her person. Mrs Cophagus was taller, and I had a fair scrutiny of her before 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 studiously neat and clean in her person. Her Quaker's dress was not without some little departure from the strict fashion and form, sufficient to assist, without deviating from, its simplicity. If I 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 adornment of her person.
Mr Cophagus, although he did not think so himself, as I afterwards found out, was certainly much improved by his change of costume. His spindle-shanks, which, as I have before observed, were peculiarly at variance with his little orbicular, orange-shaped stomach, were now concealed in loose trousers, which took off from the protuberance of the latter, and added dignity to the former, blending the two together, so that his roundness became fine by degrees, and beautifully less as it descended. Altogether, the Quaker dress added very much to the substantiability of his appearance, and was a manifest improvement, especially when he wore his broad-brimmed hat. Having satisfied my curiosity, I moved the curtain so as to attract their attention, and Cophagus came to my bedside, and felt my pulse. "Good—very good—all right—little broth—throw in bark—on his legs—well as ever—and so on."
"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 husband introduced her in his own fashion. "I am afraid that I have been a great trouble, madam," said I.