Page:Peterson's Magazine 1842, Volume I.pdf/17

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12
THE LADY'S
.

"Enough to know is given,
Clouds, winds, and stars their part fulfil,
Our's is to trust in Heaven."

"I would," she answered, “I do unhesitatingly trust in a kind Providence; but I see so much misery in life at which the heart of sympathy recoils, that I sometimes wonder at the economy of that Providence."

"But you know, my dear, it is but a small part of the system of things that we can discern, and while it is thus (as here it ever must be) it would be madness in us to make aught an argument against the divine superintendence. If all was happiness around us there would be no room for active benevolence, and if our faith were put to no test, the night that lurks within her must forever slumber.'"

Thus happily passed the summer away, and the young minister left again the home of his youth, to watch over the spiritual interests of an enlightened society, who entertained for him the truest affection. Yet when thus settled would he often sigh that the endearing ties of domestic life were not for him; for well he knew, after the communion he had enjoyed with his sister, that his heart must revolt from all meaner preference. For he understood not how so many men of cultivated intellect could bind their fate to the trifling and empty spirit of ——, alas! too many of earth's fair daughters.

Meanwhile Mr. Melville seeing that his children had become all the world to each other, and feeling that no insurmountable obstacle existed to their union, resolved to make a full disclosure to Frank of his early history, and leave him free to become indeed his son. The disclosure was accordingly made, and Mr. Melville's heart was melted within him by the overflowing gratitude of the young man, whose sorrow to find that he was not indeed the son of those whom he had loved so well, was more than compensated by the thought that he might now offer that hand to the daughter, which he knew would once have been with joy accepted. He then related to the father what had passed between him and his daughter while unknown to each other-the circumstance of his bearing at that time the name of "Reed," which arose from his offering some articles to the public while at the University under that assumed name, articles which met with such very unexpected success, that he resolved, on leaving there for a distant part of the country, to adopt the name which had won his youthful laurels. The father was amused at the recital, and assured him it was the first wish of his heart to see him united to his daughter. Frank accordingly wrote to Arabella, adverting to the place he had held in his heart while unknown to her—to the perfect similarity of their taste, and the full confidence she possessed in his judgment; and then spoke of the long friendship he had with her favorite author, and of his desire to promote an union between him and his beloved sister ; and assured her that she should love him with all the ardor she had felt for the stranger orator, or the late unrecognized brother ; that his friend had seen and loved her, and would offer her through him the hand which alone was not yet hers. He then urged her to accept the gift, and assured her happiness if the union of kindred hearts could give it.

Arabella at first thought it hard that her brother should wish her to accept the hand of any one; but one whom he esteemed so highly, and as he had exerted such power over her spirit, was not to be discarded without reflection; and she wrote her brother she would be guided by his will. The parents signified their full approbation, and as the day appointed for the marriage drew nigh, young Melville, with a joyful heart, came to his generous home to resign his right to his long known friend. Arabella, with an unusual paleness, gave him but a silent greeting; yet never looked she more lovely-never shone her pure spirit more brightly. Yet felt she at heart a dread misgiving; and when they were left alone she threw herself into her brother's arms, telling him that she never could consummate the vows she had permitted him to make; and entreated him as he valued his happiness, to save her from the embrace of his love, whose spirit she confessed seemed but one with her own. Then with a triumph known only to reciprocated love, he told the tale her father had given him of his early childhood, his identity with her favorite writer, and declared himself the happiest of men.

The overflow of gladness on her part is not for our pen to trace. A house in his chosen parish which had been fitted up with the most refined taste, was ready to receive them. The most perfect order was observed in every department of it—and a rich treat it was to pass an hour in their well selected library, the window from which commanded an extensive and most romantic prospect. And seldom passed there a day in which was not made by the happy family that moral and intellectual advancement, for which alone to those "whom rational we call," life should be coveted.

Shortly after their marriage, Melville, with his beautiful wife, visited the spot where once stood the shattered hovel; but no traces of it could be found, nor could any intelligence be had of those who had once been its inmates. But the genuine principles of that religion of which he was the able and faithful champion, as well as the early circumstances of his own life, led him to recognize that native equality in the human family which accidental circumstances so completely destroy. The spirit of his wife was in perfect unison with his own. To every benevolent cause she gave her aid; and every act of kindness was performed as a matter of course, and not with the air of those who seem to possess the consciousness of conferring a favor.

Many a child by their benevolent hand has been