530 FRIENDS’

REVIEW.

 

a Freeman, or an Englishman, that will, in com-
plaisance to some great man’s views, give the lie
to his own sense and judgment. Let him who
finds anything sweet in servitude, never be en-
trusted with the liberties of freemen. What
has a representative of the people to fear?
Nothing but God and his own conscience. He
is safe while he does nothing for which his own
mind reproaches him. If his upright condact
shall raise him enemies, at the next turn of the
road it will make them his friends. The clouds
that may overeast his horizon will soon blow
over ; Honesty and Virtue cannot long be hid,
and those who were his enemies without reason,
shall desire to be his friends, when they see that
his integrity cannot be shaken. I will not wil-
fully give offence, but ifan independent exercise
of my judgment incur it, I will despise the an-
ger and pity the man; for it is my fixed resolu-
tion to believe no man’s senses in violation of
my own. Whilst I act up to these maxims,
whether I have the smiles or the frowns of men,
they’ll give me what is infinitely more desira-
ble:—bosom-peace, the approbation of my econ-
seience. This is fruit the most delicious, and
at the same time cheap and easy to obtain. Its
reverse requires much labor and eraft to make
a man pass for sterling when he’s only a base
counterfeit ; and his only reward, bosom-torment,
and the bitter reproaches of conscience.

‘¢The honest man’s path lies open. He has
only to use his eyes and step forward. The path
of the knave is obscure and intricate, and its
endless turnings and windings constantly tax his
art and eunning. May I ever travel the just
man’s path, whieh is indeed a way of pleasant-
ness, along whose borders may be gathered the
fruits of Pkace. And when an opportunity
shall present to be dismissed from this slippery
stage, I will step off with pleasure, and joyfully
proclaim myself

““« Studious of ease and fond of humble things,

Beneath the smiles, beneath the frowns of kings,

Content to live, content to die unknown,
Lord of myself, accountable to none.’”

On First-day morning, Fourth month 18th,
1762, David Cooper and all his family except
his son William, (under 4 years of age,) and a
servant lad, were quietly gathered at Woodbury
meeting, when, near the close, some one burst
open the door and called aloud: “ David
Cooper’s house is on fire!” The subject of our
memoir was soon on horse-back, riding home-
ward with speed. Meeting his lad, he only
asked if the child was safe. He found the barn
and out-houses consumed, and of his dwelling
only one end standing, which fell in a few
minutes. It seems that the lad, having been to
alarm a neighbor, ran into the house for the
child, and had just succeeded in getting him
out, when, in a moment, the floor fell down.

“Thus,” (continues the diary,) “I, who two

 

hours before was plentifully provided with the ne-

cessaries and conveniences of life, now found my-
self houseless ; no clothing save what was on our
backs, or mouthful of food, except some salt
meat saved from the eellar. My desk, a bu-
reau, a table, a few chairs, and two common
beds, were all the goods that were rescued.”

David Cooper had not spent that morning in
the solemn assembly as an idle formalist; and he
now realized the precious assuranee: ‘“ They that
wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength.”
As he stood, with his six little ones weeping
around him, beside the blazing ruins of the home,
fraught with so many fond associations, in which
he had enjoyed the perfection of earthly com-
munion, and where he had suffered a bereavement
far keener than the loss of worldly possessions,
he thought of Job,—of his strippings and res
plenishings, and piously repeated aloud his lan-
guage: ‘The Lord gave and the Lord hath
taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord !’”
He received many evidences of sympathy, which
he gratefully notes, with “ considerable offers of
money,” which he had not freedom to receive.

“The kindness to myself and children,” he
says, ‘affords a sweetness in the recollection,
much of which, I believed, flowed froma pleasure
many took in showing kindness to the children
of a woman whom they had dearly loved. Thus
do the offspring of the righteous find friends,
and reap fruit from the virtues of their parents.
But none demands more grateful remembrance
than my sister-in-law, Margaret Haines, who has
been a nursing mother to my children and
steady friend to the family, which I hope will
be gratefully remembered by you, my dear ehil-
dren, when [ am gone.” *

D. C. now made his temporary abode with
his brother James, with four of his children, the
other two going with their excellent aunt Mar-
garet Haines, of whose exalted Christian eharac-
ter some of our readers are well aware. With
the hearty co-operation of his neighbors his new
barn was enclosed before harvest, and soon after
they moved into their dwelling, to whieh, in the
spring, he made a brick addition; and in two
years he was better supplied with buildings than
before the fire, being ‘enabled to provide for the
children without their suffering in the want of
any necessary of life.’? ‘So little cause” (to
quote the Diary) “have we, under strippings
and gloomy prospects, to despair, or to terrify
ourselves with apprehension of want. And yet,
how constantly are we distrusting Providence.
If your Heavenly Father clothe the lilies and
feed the ravens, will he not much more provide
for you, oh ye of little faith.”

The subject of our memcir was a man of de-
cision of character, undaunted firmness, and
self-sacrificing benevolence. These traits were

 

*Margaret Haines (daughter of Caspar Wistar), was
wife of Reuben Haines, who was half-brother to
David Cooper’s wife. They had the same mother.