to the final scene of our drama.----"Melissaalive!" may they say--"impossible! Did not Alonzo see her death in thepublic prints? Did not her cousin at New-London inform him of thecircumstances, and was he not in mourning? Did not the dying Beaumanconfirm the melancholy fact? And was not the unquestionable testimony ofher brother Edgar sufficient to seal the truth of all this? Did not thesexton's wife who knew not Alonzo, corroborate it? And did not Alonzofinally read her name, her age, and the time of her death, on hertomb-stone, which exactly accorded with the publication of her death inthe papers, and his own knowledge of her age? And is not this sufficientto prove, clearly and incontestibly prove, that she is dead? And yethere she is again, in all her primitive beauty and splendour! No, thissurely can never be. However the author may succeed in his description,in painting reanimated nature, he is no magician, or if he is, he cannotraise the dead.
"Melissa has long since mouldered into dust, and he has raised up somefemale Martin Guerre, or Thomas Hoag--some person, from whose nearresemblance to the deceased, he thinks to impose upon us and upon Alonzoalso, for Melissa. But it will not do; it must be the identical Melissaherself, or it might as well be her likeness in a marble statue. What!can Alonzo realize the delicacies, the tenderness, the blandishments ofMelissa in another? Can her substitute point him to the rock on NewLondon beach, the bower on her favourite hill, or so feelingly describethe charms of nature? Can he, indeed, find in her representative thosealluring graces, that pensive sweetness, those unrivalled virtues andmatchless worth which he found in Melissa, and which attracted, fixedand secured the youngest affections of his soul? Impossible!----Or couldthe author even make it out that Alonzo was deceived by a person sonearly resembling Melissa that he could not distinguish the difference,yet to his readers he must unveil the deception, and, of course, thestory will end in disappointment; it will leave an unpleasant anddisagreeable impression on the mind of the reader, which in novelwriting is certainly wrong. It is proved as clearly as facts can prove,that he has suffered Melissa to die; and since she is dead, it istotally beyond his power to bring her to life----and so his history isintrinsically _good for nothing_."
Be not quite so hasty, my zealous censor. Did we not tell you that wewere detailing facts? Shall we disguise or discolour truth to please_your_ taste? Have we not told you that disappointments are the lot oflife? Have we not, according to the advice of the moralist, led Alonzoto the temple of philosophy, the shrine of reason, and the sanctuary ofreligion? If all these fail--if in these Alonzo cannot find a balsamsufficient to heal his wounded bosom; then if, in despite of graves andtomb-stones, Melissa will come to his relief--will pour the balm ofconsolation over his anguished soul, cynical critic, can the author helpit?
It was indeed Melissa, the identical Melissa, whom Alonzo ascended atree to catch a last glimpse of, as she walked up the avenue to the oldmansion, after they had parted at the draw-bridge, on the morning of theday when she was so mysteriously removed. "Melissa!"---- "Alonzo!"----were all they could articulate: and frown not, my fair readers, if wetell you that she was instantly in his arms, while he pressed his ardentlips to her glowing cheek.
Sneer not, ye callous hearted insensibles, ye fastidious prudes, if weinform you that their tears fell in one intermingling shower, that theirsighs wafted in one blended breeze.
The sudden opening of the door aroused them to a sense of their impropersituation; for who but must consider it _improper_ to find a young ladylocked in the arms of a gentleman to whom she had just been introduced?The opening of the door, therefore, caused them quickly to change their_position_; not so hastily, however, but that the young officer who thenentered the room had a glimpse of their situation.----"Aha! said he,have I caught you? Is my philosophic Plato so soon metamorphosed to a_bon ton_ enamarato? But a few hours ago, sir, and you were proofagainst the whole arcana of beauty, and all the artillery of the graces;but no sooner are you for one moment _tete a tete_ with a fashionablebelle, than your heroism and your resolutions are vanquished, yourformer ties dissolved, and your deceased charmer totally forgotten orneglected, by the virtue of a single glance. Well, so it is: _Amorvincit omnia_ is my motto; to thee all conquering beauty, our firmestdeterminations must bow. I cannot censure you for discovering, thoughlate, that one living object is really of more intrinsic value than twodead ones. Indeed, sir, I cannot but applaud your determination."
"The laws of honour, said Alonzo, smiling, compel me to submit to becomethe subject of your raillery and deception; I am in your power."
"I acknowledge, said the officer, that I have a little deceived you,my story was fiction founded on truth--the novel style: but for thedeceptive part, you may thank your little gipsey of a nymph there,pointing to Melissa; she planned and I executed."
"How ready you gentlemen are, replied Melissa, when accused ofimpropriety, to cast the blame on the defenceless! So it was with ourfirst parents, and so it is still. But you must remember that Alonzo isyet to hear my story; there, sir, I have the advantage of you."
"Then I confess, said he, looking at Alonzo, you will be too hard forme, and so I will say no more about it."
Melissa then introduced the young officer to Alonzo, by the appellationof Capt. Wilmot. "He is the son of my deceased uncle, said she, a cousinto whom I am much indebted, as you shall hereafter know."
A coach drove up to the door, which Melissa informed Alonzo was heruncle's, and was sent to convey Alfred and her home. "You will have noobjection to breakfast with me at my uncle's, said Alfred, if it be onlyto keep our cousin Melissa in countenance."
Alonzo did not hesitate to accept the invitation: They immediatelytherefore entered the coach, a servant took care of Alonzo's carriage,and they drove to the seat of Col. D----, who, with his family, receivedAlonzo with much friendship and politeness. Alfred had apprized them ofAlonzo's arrival in town, and of course he was expected.
Col. D---- was about fifty years old, his manners were majesticallygrave, and commanding, yet polished and polite. His family consisted ofan amiable wife, considerably younger than himself, and three children:the eldest son, about ten years of age, and two daughters, one seven,the other four years old. Harmony and cheerfulness reigned in hisfamily, which diffused tranquillity and ease to its members and itsguests.
It was agreed that Alonzo should pass a few days at the house ofMelissa's uncle, when Melissa was to accompany him to Connecticut.Alfred, with some other officers, was recruiting for the army, where hisregiment then lay, and which he was shortly to join. He could not,therefore, be constantly at his uncle's, though he was principally therewhile Alonzo staid: but being absent the day after his arrival, Melissaand Alonzo having retired to a room separate from the family, she gavehim the following account of what happened after they had parted at theold mansion.
"The morning after you left me, she said, John came to the bridge andcalled to be let in:--I immediately went to the gate, opened it, and letdown the bridge. John informed me that my aunt had suddenly andunexpectedly arrived that morning in company with a strange gentleman,and that he had come for the keys, as my aunt was to visit the mansionthat day. I strove to persuade John to leave the keys in my possession,and that I would make all easy with my aunt when she arrived. This,though with much reluctance, he at length consented to, and departed.Soon after this my aunt came, and without much ceremony demanded thekeys, insinuating that I had obtained them from John by imposition, andfor the basest purposes. This aroused me to indignation, and I answeredby informing her that whatever purposes the persecution and cruelty ofmy family had compelled me to adopt, my conscience, under presentcircumstances approved them, and I refused to give her the keys. Shethen ordered me to prepare to leave the mansion, and accompany her toher residence at the house of John. I told her that I had been placedthere by my father, and should not consent to a removal unless by hisexpress orders. She then left me, intimating that she would soon let meknow that her authority was not to be thus trampled upon with impunity.
"I immediately raised the bridge,
and made fast the gate, determining,on no considerations, to suffer it to be opened until evening. The daypassed away without any occurrence worthy of note, and as soon as it wasdark, I went, opened the gate, and cautiously let down the bridge.I then returned to the mansion, and placed the candle, as we hadconcerted, at the window. Shortly after I heard a carriage roll over thebridge and proceed up the avenue.--My heart fluttered; I wished--Ihardly knew what I did wish; but I feared I was about to act improperly,as I had no other idea but that it was you, Alonzo, who was approaching.The carriage stopped near the door of the mansion; a footstep ascendedthe stairs. Judge of my surprise and agitation, when my father enteredthe chamber! A maid and two men servants followed him. He directed me tomake immediate preparations for leaving the mansion--which command, withthe assistance of the servants, I obeyed with a heart too
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