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Wieland: or, the Transformation, an American Tale by Charles Brockden Brown
page 24 of 311 (07%)
quickly broke those bounds which extreme youth had set to it;
confessions were made or extorted, and their union was postponed
only till my brother had passed his minority. The previous
lapse of two years was constantly and usefully employed.

O my brother! But the task I have set myself let me perform
with steadiness. The felicity of that period was marred by no
gloomy anticipations. The future, like the present, was serene.
Time was supposed to have only new delights in store. I mean
not to dwell on previous incidents longer than is necessary to
illustrate or explain the great events that have since happened.
The nuptial day at length arrived. My brother took possession
of the house in which he was born, and here the long protracted
marriage was solemnized.

My father's property was equally divided between us. A neat
dwelling, situated on the bank of the river, three quarters of
a mile from my brother's, was now occupied by me. These domains
were called, from the name of the first possessor, Mettingen.
I can scarcely account for my refusing to take up my abode with
him, unless it were from a disposition to be an economist of
pleasure. Self-denial, seasonably exercised, is one means of
enhancing our gratifications. I was, beside, desirous of
administering a fund, and regulating an household, of my own.
The short distance allowed us to exchange visits as often as we
pleased. The walk from one mansion to the other was no
undelightful prelude to our interviews. I was sometimes their
visitant, and they, as frequently, were my guests.

Our education had been modelled by no religious standard. We
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