"My dear Susannah, this is a chequered world, but not a very bad one—there is in it much of good as well as evil. The sect to which you belong avoid it—they know it not—and they are unjust towards it. During the time that I lived at Reading, I will candidly state to you that I met with many who called themselves of the persuasion, who were wholly unworthy of it, but they made up in outward appearance and hypocrisy, what they wanted in their conduct to their fellow-creatures. Believe me, Susannah, there are pious and good, charitable and humane, conscientious and strictly honourable people among those who now pass before your view in such gay procession; but society requires that the rich should spend their money in superfluities, that the poor may be supported. Be not deceived, therefore, in future, by the outward garments, which avail nothing."
"You have induced me much to alter my opinions already, Japhet; so has that pleasant friend of thine, Mr Masterton, who has twice called since we have been in London, but is it not time that we should return?"
"It is indeed later than I thought it was, Susannah," replied I, looking at my watch, "and I am afraid that my father will be impatient for my return. I will order them to drive home."
As we drove along, leaning against the back of the carriage, my hand happened to touch that of Susannah, which lay beside her on the cushion, I could not resist taking it in mine, and it was not withdrawn. What my thoughts were, the reader may imagine; Susannah's I cannot acquaint him with; but in that position we remained in silence until the carriage stopped at Cophagus's door. I handed Susannah out of the carriage, and went up stairs for a few moments. Mrs Cophagus and her husband were out.
"Susannah, this is very kind of you, and I return you my thanks. I never felt more happy than when seated with you in that carriage."
"I have received both amusement and instruction, Japhet, and ought to thank you. Do you know what passed in my mind at one time?"
"No—tell me."
"When I first knew you, and you came among us, I was, as it were, the guide, a presumptuous one perhaps to you, and you listened to me—now it is reversed—now that we are removed and in the world, it is you that are the guide, and it is I who listen and obey."
"Because, Susannah, when we first met I was much in error, and had thought too little of serious things, and you were fit to be my guide: now we are mixing in the world, with which I am better acquainted than yourself. You then corrected me, when I was wrong: I now point out to you where you are not rightly informed: but, Susannah, what you have learnt of me is as nought compared with the valuable precepts which I gained from your lips—precepts which, I trust, no collision with the world will ever make me forget."
"Oh! I love to hear you say that; I was fearful that the world would spoil you, Japhet; but it will not—will it?"