"Japhet," said the old gentleman, "I will say that you have been very wise in your choice, and that your little Quaker is a most lovely creature: I am in love with her myself, and I think that she is far superior in personal attractions to Cecilia de Clare." "Indeed, sir!" "Yes, indeed; her face is more classical, and her complexion is unrivalled; as far as my present knowledge and experience go, she is an emblem of purity." "Her mind, sir, is as pure as her person." "I believe it; she has a strong mind, and will think for herself." "There, sir, is, I am afraid, the difficulty; she will not yield a point in which she thinks she is right, not even for her love for me." "I agree with you that she will not, and I admire her for it; but, Japhet, she will yield to conviction, and, depend upon it, she will abandon the outward observances of her persuasion. Did you observe what a spoke I put in your wheel last night, when I stated that outward forms were pride. Leave that to work, and I'll answer for the consequences: she will not long wear that Quaker's dress. How beautiful she would be if she dressed like other people! I think I see her now entering a ball-room." "But what occasions you to think she will abandon her persuasion?" "I do not say that she will abandon it, nor do I wish her to do it, nor do I wish you to do it, Japhet. There is much beauty and much perfection in the Quaker's creed. All that requires to be abandoned are the dress and the ceremonies of the meetings, which are both absurdities. Recollect, that Miss Temple has been brought up as a Quaker; she has, from the exclusiveness of the sect, known no other form of worship, and never heard any opposition to that which has been inculcated; but let her once or twice enter the Established Church, hear its beautiful ritual, and listen to a sound preacher. Let her be persuaded to do that, which cannot be asking her to do wrong, and then let her think and act for herself, and my word for it, when she draws the comparison between what she has then heard and the nonsense occasionally uttered in the Quakers' conventicle, by those who fancy themselves inspired, she will herself feel that, although the tenets of her persuasion may be more in accordance with true Christianity than those of other sects, the outward forms and observances are imperfect. I trust to her own good sense." "You make me very happy by saying so." "Well, that is my opinion of her, and if she proves me to be correct, hang me if I don't think I shall adopt her." "What do you think of Mrs Cophagus, sir?" "I think she is no more a Quaker in her heart than I am. She is a lively, merry, kind-hearted creature, and would have no objection to appear in feathers and diamonds to-morrow." "Well, sir, I can tell you that Mr Cophagus still sighs after his blue cotton-net pantaloons and Hessian boots."