his brother, may have helped to color his conduct.  As time, however, wore on, his heart began to expand to human affections; for we have seen, how fond he became of the society, first, of Faith, and, finally, of his brother; deriving, possibly, a sort of insane gratification from even the concealment of his relationship, as a miser gloats over the security of his hoard.  It is, indeed, probable, that, but for the discovery of his son, he would have died without betraying the secret, but, that discovery awakened anew feelings which he never expected to have again in this life.  He looked upon his son and the inheritance, which to him was valueless, assumed an importance.  And it may be—­who can tell?—­that, sometimes, a doubt—­for how long had he waited in vain?—­might throw a shadow over his expectation of the Millennium.  But this we have no means of determining, and, as we shall presently see, his subsequent life rather sustains the opposite opinion.

CHAPTER XLIII.

  By his great Author man was sent below,
  Some things to learn, great pains to undergo,
  To fit him for what further he’s to know.

  This end obtained, without regarding time,
  He calls the soul home to its native clime,
  To happiness and knowledge more sublime.

  ALLAN RAMSAY

The period of time which has elapsed since the occurring of the events detailed in the preceding chapters, enables us to give a tolerably full account of the destiny of the actors, who, for the space of a few months, have flitted across our stage.

James Armstrong lived in the enjoyment of pretty good health some two years after his recovery.  The melancholy with which nature had tinged his disposition was, indeed, never quite eradicated, but probably those two years were the sweetest and sunniest of his life.  Those whom he most loved were prosperous and happy, and the reflection of their happiness shone upon his daily walk.  At the end of that time he fell asleep, and in the confidence of a lively faith and the comfort of a holy hope, was gathered to his fathers.  Immediately upon the restoration of his reason he had divided his estate with his brother, or rather with his nephew, for the Solitary refused to have anything to do with wealth.  It would be to him, he said, a burden.  He was not a pack-horse, to carry loads, though they were made of gold.

With whatever eyes, however, the possession of property might be viewed by George Armstrong, his son, who, within a few months afterwards, was united to Anne Bernard, with even the approbation of her brother, considered the addition thereby made to his income as no disagreeable circumstance.  Mr. and Mrs. Pownal, the benefactors of his youth, were present, and the former had the satisfaction of dancing at the wedding.  No marriage could be more fortunate.  A similarity of taste and feeling and the harmonies of virtue had originally attracted and attached each