the day, and was active in all. His children grew up around him, a family of lovely daughters, and talented and upright sons ; and at forty-five no man in his native town perhaps enjoyed such uninterrupted felicity. Sickness and sorrow had fallen lightly on his household ; and the partner of his life seemed still, to his eyes, as beautiful as on the morning when she became his bride.
And what was the fate of Thurston ? A moment we will return to him, ere we dismiss him forever. Grown old and querulous ; deserted by his former friends ; and neglected in sickness by his own servants, he lingered on for months, tortured by disease, and stung by the reflection that his wealth would go to persons who felt for him no affection. He died alone in his bed ; and ere his body was cold his nurse had pilfered his most valuable jewels and disappeared.
THE BROTHERS .
BY ISABELLA MACFARLANE .
On! there are scenes on life's broad stage enacting,
More strange and sad than aught that Fancy weaves,
A passing tribute from some harp exacting,
Ev'n though, like song, no lasting sound it leaves.
Then wake my harp ! and let thy sounding numbers,
How rude soe'er the touch that bids them swell ;
Awhile leave Fancy to her airy slumbers,
A tale of stern Reality to tell.
There were two brothers, who in youth had parted,
And far diverse their paths in life had been ;
On Wealth's uncertain chase they both had started,
And each for it had ta'en a different scene.
In the unthinking days of joyous childhood,
Like one in heart and life those two had grown ;
Together they had ranged by stream and wild wood,
Together every joy and care had known.
But still they parted-and long years flew o'er them
In which they heard not of each other's fate ;
New scenes, new friends, new pleasures spread before them,
And dulled their hearts to love of ancient date.
Yet often did they think of one another,
Alike in Fortune's frown, and in her smile,
And each, to meet with his long-parted brother,
Had gladly traveled many a weary mile.
At last they met but oh ! unthinking mortals !
How would your happiest hours embittered be,
If dark Futurity should ope her portals,
And show the scenes that you in life may see !
How met they ?-stretched upon a bed of sickness,
Within a Lazar-house a man did lie ;
The blood coursed through his veins with fever's quickness,
And death was seated in his hollow eye.
And all around the gloomy house of sorrow,
In different stages of the fell disease,
Lay wretches, telling o'er each sad to-morrow,
Writhing in pangs that knew no moment's case.
And one was brought, who had but just been taken,
And placed near by this spent and dying man ;
His hopes of life were not yet wholly shaken
Hope ever lives as long as live she can!
The dying man looked round the mournful chamber,
The stranger at the self-same moment gazed,
And their eyes met-ah! well did each remember,
Though changed, each pallid face that then was raised!
"And can it be ?-my brother ! oh ! my brother!
After our long, long parting meet we thus?
Death's hand is on us both !-he comes to smother
Our breath when it had been most sweet to us."
" Oh, God ! oh , God ! and have we widely wandered
So long, and only met to part for ever!
One day- one hour- of all that I have squandered,
Give back, oh Time, before my life-strings sever!"
Thus spake the one whose sands of life were numbered,
The other groaned in grief too deep for words
All the fond feelings that so long had slumbered,
Gushed o'er his heart and strained its inmost chords.
He would have risen, but his strength had failed him,
And, feeble as an infant, back he fell ;
His brother knew the feelings that assailed him—
He saw the movement, and he read it well.
And- oh! the wondrous power of strong affection!
The man who lay almost in death's embrace,
With strength that with the earth had no connexion;
Arose, and crossed the intervening space.
And fell upon his brother's neck, and pressed him
With straining clasp to his wild-throbbing heart;
Kissed his pale lips, and tenderly caressed him
With all affection's fond endearing art.
They wound their feeble arms about each other,
And sank together on the lowly bed,
And there they found them, brother locked to brother,
Some moments after, motionless and-dead !
Yes ! they were dead !-the heart's wild agitation
Had in the newly-smitten one forestalled
Diseases' dark and terrible probation ,
And without pain his spirit disenthralled.
And they died happy : had they sadly perished
Apart, and neither known the other's fate,
Would not the hope deferred , yet fondly cherished,
Than e'en such death have been a heavier weight?
And was it Chance that thus in death connected
The parted brothers ? Oh ! believe it not!
God's guiding hand their wandering steps directed,
That they might know He watched their changeful lot!*[1]
- ↑ *This scene is copied almost literally from one said to
have taken place, a few years ago, in an hospital, at New
Orleans, during the prevalence of yellow fever.
