The converts of this sect are oftener driven within itshospitable gates by worldly misfortune than drawn thitherby fanaticism， and are received without inquisition as totheir motives. Martha， faithful still， had placed her handin that of her lover and accompanied him to the Shakervillage. Here the natural capacity of each， cultivated andstrengthened by the difficulties of their previous lives， hadsoon gained them an important rank in the society， whosemembers are generally below the ordinary standard ofintelligence. Their faith and feelings had in some degreebecome assimilated to those of their fellow-worshippers.
Adam Colburn gradually acquired reputation not only inthe management of the temporal affairs of the society，but as a clear and efficient preacher of their doctrines.
Martha was not less distinguished in the duties proper toher sex. Finally， when the infirmities of Father Ephraimhad admonished him to seek a successor in his patriarchaloffice， he thought of Adam and Martha， and proposedto renew in their persons the primitive form of Shakergovernment as established by Mother Ann. They wereto be the father and mother of the village. The simpleceremony which would constitute them such was now tobe performed.
“Son Adam and daughter Martha，” said the venerableFather Ephraim， fixing his aged eyes piercingly upon them，“if ye can conscientiously undertake this charge， speak，that the brethren may not doubt of your fitness.”
“Father，” replied Adam， speaking with the calmness ofhis character， “I came to your village a disappointed man，weary of the world， worn out with continual trouble，seeking only a security against evil fortune， as I had nohope of good. Even my wishes of worldly success werealmost dead within me. I came hither as a man mightcome to a tomb willing to lie down in its gloom andcoldness for the sake of its peace and quiet. There was butone earthly affection in my breast， and it had grown calmersince my youth； so that I was satisfied to bring Martha tobe my sister in our new abode. We are brother and sister，nor would I have it otherwise. And in this peaceful villageI have found all that I hope for—all that I desire. I willstrive with my best strength for the spiritual and temporalgood of our community. My conscience is not doubtful inthis matter. I am ready to receive the trust.”
“Thou hast spoken well， son Adam，” said the father. “Godwill bless thee in the office which I am about to resign.”
“But our sister，” observed the elder from Harvard. “Hathshe not likewise a gift to declare her sentiments？”
Martha started and moved her lips as if she would havemade a formal reply to this appeal. But， had she attemptedit， perhaps the old recollections， the long-repressedfeelings of childhood， youth and womanhood， might havegushed from her heart in words that it would have beenprofanation to utter there.
“Adam has spoken，” said she， hurriedly； “his sentimentsare likewise mine.”
