ty of the young men of the sect, I gradually became intimate
with him. One day when my assistant was out he said to me, "Friend
Gnow-land, tell me candidly, hast thou ever seen my face before?"

"Not that I can recollect, friend Talbot."

"Then my recollection is better than yours, and now having obtained thy
friendship as one of the society, I will remind thee of our former
acquaintance. When thou wert Mr N-e-w-land, walking about town with
Major Carbonnell, I was Lieutenant Talbot, of the -- Dragoon Guards."

I was dumb with astonishment, and I stared him in the face.

"Yes," continued he, bursting into laughter, "such is the fact. You
have thought, perhaps, that you were the only man of fashion who had
ever been transformed into a Quaker; now you behold another, so no
longer imagine yourself the Phoenix of your tribe."

"I do certainly recollect that name," replied I; "but although, as you
must be acquainted with my history, it is very easy to conceive why I
have joined the society, yet upon what grounds you can have so done is
to me inexplicable."

"Newland, it certainly does require explanation: it has been, I assert,
my misfortune, and not my fault. Not that I am not happy. On the
contrary, I feel that I am now in my proper situation. I ought to have
been born of Quaker parents--at all events, I was born a Quaker in
disposition; but I will come to-morrow early, and then, if you will give
your man something to do out of the way, I will tell you my history. I
know that you will keep my secret."

The next morning he came, and as soon as we were alone he imparted to me
what follows.

"I recollect well, Newland, when you were one of the leaders of fashion,
I was then in the Dragoon Guards, and although not very intimate with
you, had the honour of a recognition when we met at parties. I cannot
help laughing, upon my soul, when I look at us both now; but never mind.
I was of course a great deal with my regiment, and at the club. My
father, as you may not perhaps be aware, was highly connected, and all
the family have been brought up in the army: the question of profession
has never been mooted by us; and every Talbot has turned out a soldier
as naturally as a young duck takes to the water. Well, I entered the
army, admired my uniform, and was admired by the young ladies. Before I
received my lieutenant's commission, my father, the old gentleman, died,
and left me a younger brother's fortune, of four h