I rose the next morning very early, desirous to make the day

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A DESCRIPTION OF MILLENIUM HALL

AND THE COUNTRY ADJACENT

Together with the

CHARACTERS OF THE INHABITANTS

And such Historical

ANECDOTES AND REFLECTIONS

AS

May excite in the READER proper Sentiments of Humanity,

and lead the Mind to the Love of

VIRTUE

BY

'A GENTLEMAN

ON HIS TRAVELS'

SARAH SCOTT

Based on a reprint of the edition

published in Great Britain

by J. Newbury, 1762

A DESCRIPTION OF MILLENIUM HALL

Dear Sir,

Though, when I left London, I promised to write to you as soon as I had

reached my northern retreat, yet, I believe, you little expected instead

of a letter to receive a volume; but I should not stand excused to

myself, were I to fail communicating to you the pleasure I received in

my road hither, from the sight of a society whose acquaintance I owe to

one of those fortunate, though in appearance trifling, accidents, from

which sometimes arise the most pleasing circumstances of our lives; for

as such I must ever esteem the acquaintance of that amiable family, who

have fixed their abode at a place which I shall nominate Millenium Hall,

as the best adapted to the lives of the inhabitants, and to avoid giving

the real name, fearing to offend that modesty which has induced them to

conceal their virtues in retirement.

In giving you a very circumstantial account of this society, I confess I

have a view beyond the pleasure which a mind like yours must receive

from the contemplation of so much virtue. Your constant endeavours have

been to inculcate the best principles into youthful minds, the only

probable means of mending mankind; for the foundation of most of our

virtues, or our vices, are laid in that season of life when we are most

susceptible of impression, and when on our minds, as on a sheet of white

paper, any characters may be engraven; these laudable endeavours, by

which we may reasonably expect the rising generation will be greatly

improved, render particularly due to you, any examples which may teach

those virtues that are not easily learnt by precept and shew the

facility of what, in mere speculation, might appear surrounded with a

discouraging impracticability: you are the best judge, whether, by being

made public, they may be conducive to your great end of benefiting the

world. I therefore submit the future fate of the following sheets

entirely to you, and shall not think any prefatory apology for the

publication at all requisite; for though a man who supposes his own life

and actions deserve universal notice, or can be of general use, may be

liable to the imputation of vanity, yet, as I have no other share than

that of a spectator, and auditor, in what I purpose to relate, I presume

no apology can be required; for my vanity must rather be mortified than

flattered in the description of such virtues as will continually accuse

me of my own deficiencies, and lead me to make a humiliating comparison

between these excellent ladies and myself.

You may remember, Sir, that when I took leave of you with a design of

retiring to my native county, there to enjoy the plenty and leisure for

which a few years labour had furnished me with the necessary requisites,

I was advised by an eminent physician to make a very extensive tour

through the western part of this kingdom, in order, by frequent change

of air, and continued exercise, to cure the ill effects of my long abode

in the hot and unwholesome climate of Jamaica, where, while I increased

my fortune, I gradually impaired my constitution; and though one who,

like me, has dedicated all his application to mercantile gain, will not

allow that he has given up the substance for the shadow, yet perhaps it

would be difficult to deny that I thus sacrificed the greater good in

pursuit of the less.

The eagerness with which I longed to fix in my wished-for retirement,

made me imagine that when I had once reached it, even the pursuit of

health would be an insufficient inducement to determine me to leave my

retreat. I therefore chose to make the advised tour before I went into

the north. As the pleasure arising from a variety of beautiful objects

is but half enjoyed when we have no one to share it with us, I accepted

the offer Mr Lamont (the son of my old friend) made of accompanying me

in my journey. As this young gentleman has not the good fortune to be

known to you, it may not be amiss, as will appear in the sequel, to let

you into his character.

Mr Lamont is a young man of about twenty-five years of age, of an

agreeable person, and lively understanding; both perhaps have concurred

to render him a coxcomb. The vivacity of his parts soon gained him such

a degree of encouragement as excited his vanity, and raised in him a

high opinion of himself. A very generous father enabled him to partake

of every fashionable amusement, and the natural bent of his mind soon

led him into all the dissipation which the gay world affords. Useful and

improving studies were laid aside for such desultory reading as he found

most proper to furnish him with topics for conversation in the idle

societies he frequented. Thus that vivacity, which, properly qualified,

might have become true wit, degenerated into pertness and impertinence.

A consciousness of an understanding, which he never exerted, rendered

him conceited; those talents which nature kindly bestowed upon him, by

being perverted, gave rise to his greatest faults. His reasoning

faculty, by a partial and superficial use, led him to infidelity, and

the desire of being thought superiorly distinguishing established him an

infidel. Fashion, not reason, has been the guide of all his thoughts and

actions. But with these faults he is good-natured, and not

unentertaining, especially in a tete-a-tete, where he does not desire to

shine, and therefore his vanity lies dormant and suffers the best

qualifications of his mind to break forth. This induced me to accept him

as a fellow traveller.

We proceeded on our journey as far as Cornwall, without meeting with any

other than the usual incidents of the road, till one afternoon, when our

chaise broke down. The worst circumstance attending this accident was

our being several miles from a town, and so ignorant of the country,

that we knew not whether there was any village within a moderate

distance. We sent the postilion on my man's horse to the next town to

fetch a smith, and leaving my servant to guard the chaise, Mr Lamont and

I walked towards an avenue of oaks, which we observed at a small

distance. The thick shade they afforded us, the fragrance wafted from

the woodbines with which they were encircled, was so delightful, and the

beauty of the grounds so very attracting, that we strolled on, desirous

of approaching the house to which this avenue led. It is a mile and a

half in length, but the eye is so charmed with the remarkable verdure

and neatness of the fields, with the beauty of the flowers which are

planted all around them and seem to mix with the quickset hedges, that

time steals away insensibly.

When we had walked about half a mile in a scene truly pastoral, we began

to think ourselves in the days of Theocritus, so sweetly did the sound

of a flute come wafted through the air. Never did pastoral swain make

sweeter melody on his oaten reed. Our ears now afforded us fresh

attraction, and with quicker steps we proceeded, till we came within

sight of the musician that had charmed us. Our pleasure was not a little

heightened, to see, as the scene promised, in reality a shepherd,

watching a large flock of sheep. We continued motionless, listening to

his music, till a lamb straying from its fold demanded his care, and he

laid aside his instrument, to guide home the little wanderer.

Curiosity now prompted us to walk on; the nearer we came to the house,

the greater we found the profusion of flowers which ornamented every

field. Some had no other defence than hedges of rose trees and

sweetbriars, so artfully planted, that they made a very thick hedge,

while at the lower part, pinks, jonquils, hyacinths, and various other

flowers, seemed to grow under their protection. Primroses, violets,

lilies of the valley, and polyanthuses enriched such shady spots, as,

for want of sun, were not well calculated for the production of other

flowers. The mixture of perfumes which exhaled from this profusion

composed the highest fragrance, and sometimes the different scents

regaled the senses alternately, and filled us with reflections on the

infinite variety of nature.

When we were within about a quarter of a mile of the house, the scene

became still more animated. On one side was the greatest variety of

cattle, the most beautiful of their kinds, grazing in fields whose

verdure equalled that of the finest turf, nor were they destitute of

their ornaments, only the woodbines and jessamine, and such flowers as

might have tempted the inhabitants of these pastures to crop them, were

defended with roses and sweetbriars, whose thorns preserved them from

all attacks.

Though Lamont had hitherto been little accustomed to admire nature, yet

was he much captivated with this scene, and with his usual levity cried

out, 'If Nebuchadnezzar had such pastures as these to range in, his

seven years expulsion from human society might not be the least

agreeable part of his life.' My attention was too much engaged to

criticize the light turn of Lamont's mind, nor did his thoughts continue

long on the same subject, for our observation was soon called off by a

company of hay-makers in the fields on the other side of the avenue. The

cleanliness and neatness of the young women thus employed, rendered them

a more pleasing subject for Lamont's contemplation than any thing we had

yet seen; in them we beheld rural simplicity, without any of those marks

of poverty and boorish rusticity, which would have spoilt the pastoral

air of the scene around us; but not even the happy amiable innocence,

which their figures and countenances expressed, gave me so much

satisfaction as the sight of the number of children, who were all

exerting the utmost of their strength, with an air of delighted

emulation between themselves, to contribute their share to the general

undertaking. Their eyes sparkled with that spirit which health and

activity can only give, and their rosy cheeks shewed the benefits of

youthful labour.

Curiosity is one of those insatiable passions that grow by

gratification; it still prompted us to proceed, not unsatisfied with

what we had seen, but desirous to see still more of this earthly

paradise. We approached the house, wherein, as it was the only human

habitation in view, we imagined must reside the Primum Mobile of all we

had yet beheld. We were admiring the magnificence of the ancient

structure, and inclined to believe it the abode of the genius which

presided over this fairy land, when we were surprised by a storm, which

had been some time gathering over our heads, though our thoughts had

been too agreeably engaged to pay much attention to it. We took shelter

under the thick shade of a large oak, but the violence of the thunder

and lightning made our situation rather uncomfortable. All those whom we

had a little before seen so busy left their work on hearing the first

clap of thunder and ran with the utmost speed to Millenium Hall, so I

shall call the noble mansion of which I am speaking, as to an assured

asylum against every evil.

Some of these persons, I imagine, perceived us; for immediately after

they entered, came out a woman who, by her air and manner of address, we

guessed to be the housekeeper, and desired us to walk into the house

till the storm was over. We made some difficulties about taking that

liberty, but she still persisting in her invitation, had my curiosity to

see the inhabitants of this hospitable mansion been less, I could not

have refused to comply, as by prolonging these ceremonious altercations

I was detaining her in the storm; we therefore agreed to follow her.

If we had been inclined before to fancy ourselves on enchanted ground,

when after being led through a large hall, we were introduced to the

ladies, who knew nothing of what had passed, I could scarcely forbear

believing myself in the Attic school. The room where they sat was about

forty-five feet long, of a proportionable breadth, with three windows on

one side, which looked into a garden, and a large bow at the upper end.

Over against the windows were three large bookcases, upon the top of the

middle one stood an orrery, and a globe on each of the others. In the

bow sat two ladies reading, with pen, ink and paper on a table before

them at which was a young girl translating out of French. At the lower

end of the room was a lady painting, with exquisite art indeed, a

beautiful Madonna; near her another, drawing a landscape out of her own

imagination; a third, carving a picture-frame in wood, in the finest

manner, a fourth, engraving; and a young girl reading aloud to them; the

distance from the ladies in the bow window being such, that they could

receive no disturbance from her. At the next window were placed a group

of girls, from the age of ten years old to fourteen. Of these, one was

drawing figures, another a landscape, a third a perspective view, a

fourth engraving, a fifth carving, a sixth turning in wood, a seventh

writing, an eighth cutting out linen, another making a gown, and by them

an empty chair and a tent, with embroidery, finely fancied, before it,

which we afterwards found had been left by a young girl who was gone to

practise on the harpsichord.

As soon as we entered they all rose up, and the housekeeper introduced

us by saying she saw us standing under a tree to avoid the storm and so

had desired us to walk in. The ladies received us with the greatest

politeness, and expressed concern that when their house was so near, we

should have recourse to so insufficient a shelter. Our surprise at the

sight of so uncommon a society occasioned our making but an awkward

return to their obliging reception; nor when we observed how many arts

we had interrupted, could we avoid being ashamed that we had then

intruded upon them.

But before I proceed farther, I shall endeavour to give you some idea of

the persons of the ladies, whose minds I shall afterwards best describe

by their actions. The two who sat in the bow window were called Mrs

Maynard and Miss Selvyn. Mrs Maynard is between forty and fifty years of

age, a little woman, well made, with a lively and genteel air, her hair

black, and her eyes of the same colour, bright and piercing, her

features good, and complexion agreeable, though brown. Her countenance

expresses all the vivacity of youth, tempered with a serenity which

becomes her age.

Miss Selvyn can scarcely be called tall, though she approaches that

standard. Her features are too irregular to be handsome, but there is a

sensibility and delicacy in her countenance which render her extremely

engaging; and her person is elegant.

Miss Mancel, whom we had disturbed from her painting, is tall and finely

formed, has great elegance of figure, and is graceful in every motion.

Her hair is of a fine brown, her eyes blue, with all that sensible

sweetness which is peculiar to that colour. In short, she excels in

every beauty but the bloom, which is so soon faded, and so impossible to

be imitated by the utmost efforts of art, nor has she suffered any

farther by years than the loss of that radiance which renders beauty

rather more resplendent than more pleasing.

Miss Trentham, who was carving by her, was the tallest of the company,

and in dignity of air particularly excels, but her features and

complexion have been so injured by the smallpox, that one can but just

guess they were once uncommonly fine; a sweetness of countenance, and a

very sensible look, indeed, still remain, and have baffled all the most

cruel ravages of that distemper.

Lady Mary Jones, whom we found engraving, seems to have been rather

pleasing than beautiful. She is thin and pale, but a pair of the finest

black eyes I ever saw, animate, to a great degree, a countenance which

sickness has done its utmost to render languid, but has, perhaps, only

made more delicate and amiable. Her person is exquisitely genteel, and

her voice, in common speech, enchantingly melodious.

Mrs Morgan, the lady who was drawing, appears to be upwards of fifty,

tall, rather plump, and extremely majestic, an air of dignity

distinguishes her person, and every virtue is engraven in indelible

characters on her countenance. There is a benignity in every look, which

renders the decline of life, if possible, more amiable than the bloom of

youth. One would almost think nature had formed her for a common parent,

such universal and tender benevolence beams from every glance she casts

around her.

The dress of the ladies was thus far uniform, the same neatness, the

same simplicity and cleanliness appeared in each, and they were all in

lutestring night-gowns, though of different colours, nor was there any

thing unfashionable in their appearance, except that they were free

from any trumpery ornaments. The girls were all clothed in camblet

coats, but not uniform in colour, their linen extremely white and clean

though coarse. Some of them were pretty, and none had any defect in

person, to take off from that general pleasingness which attends youth

and innocence.

They had been taught such a habit of attention that they seemed not at

all disturbed by our conversation, which was of that general kind, as

might naturally be expected on such an occasion, though supported by the

ladies with more sensible vivacity and politeness than is usual where

part of the company are such total strangers to the rest; till by chance

one of the ladies called Mrs Maynard by her name.

From the moment I saw her, I thought her face not unknown to me, but

could not recollect where or when I had been acquainted with her, but

her name brought to my recollection, that she was not only an old

acquaintance, but a near relation. I observed that she had looked on me

with particular attention, and I begged her to give me leave to ask her

of what family of Maynards she was. Her answer confirmed my supposition,

and as she told me that she believed she had some remembrance of my

face, I soon made her recollect our affinity and former intimacy, though

my twenty years abode in Jamaica, the alteration the climate had wrought

in me, and time had made in us both, had almost effaced us from each

other's memory.

There is great pleasure in renewing the acquaintance of our youth; a

thousand pleasing ideas accompany it; many mirthful scenes and juvenile

amusements return to the remembrance, and make us, as it were, live over

again what is generally the most pleasing part of life. Mrs Maynard

seemed no less sensible of the satisfaction arising from this train of

thoughts than myself, and the rest of the company were so indulgently

good-natured, as in appearance, to share them with us. The tea table by

no means interrupted our conversation, and I believe I should have

forgot that our journey was not at an end, if a servant had not brought

in word, that my man, who had observed our motions, was come to inform

us that our chaise could not be repaired that night.

The ladies immediately declared that though their equipage was in order,

they would not suffer it to put an end to a pleasure they owed to the

accident which had happened to ours, and insisted we should give them

our company till the smith had made all necessary reparations, adding,

that I could not be obstinately bent on depriving Mrs Maynard so soon of

the satisfaction she received from having recovered so long lost a

relation. I was little inclined to reject this invitation: pleasure was

the chief design of my journey, and I saw not how I could receive more

than by remaining in a family so extraordinary, and so perfectly

agreeable. When both parties are well agreed, the necessary ceremonies

previous to a compliance are soon over, and it was settled that we

should not think of departing before the next day at soonest.

The continuance of the rain rendered it impossible to stir out of the

house; my cousin, who seemed to think variety necessary to amuse, asked

if we loved music, which being answered in the affirmative, she begged

the other ladies to entertain us with one of their family concerts, and

we joining in the petition, proper orders were given, and we adjourned

into another room, which was well furnished with musical instruments.

Over the door was a beautiful Saint Cecilia, painted in crayons by Miss

Mancel, and a fine piece of carved work over the chimney, done by Miss

Trentham, which was a very artificial representation of every sort of

musical instrument.

While we were admiring these performances, the company took their

respective places. Miss Mancel seated herself at the harpsichord, Lady

Mary Jones played on the arch lute, Mrs Morgan on the organ, Miss Selvyn

and Miss Trentham each on the six-stringed bass; the shepherd who had

charmed us in the field was there with his German flute, a venerable

looking man, who is their steward, played on the violincello, a lame

youth on the French horn, another, who seemed very near blind, on the

bassoon, and two on the fiddle. My cousin had no share in the

performance except singing agreeably, wherein she was joined by some of

the ladies, and where the music could bear it, by ten of the young

girls, with two or three others whom we had not seen, and whose voices

and manner were equally pleasing. They performed several of the finest

pieces of the Messiah and Judas Maccabeus, with exquisite taste, and the

most exact time. There was a sufficient number of performers to give the

choruses all their pomp and fullness, and the songs were sung in a

manner so touching and pathetic, as could be equalled by none whose

hearts were not as much affected by the words as their senses were by

the music. The sight of so many little innocents joining in the most

sublime harmony made me almost think myself already amongst the heavenly

choir, and it was a great mortification to me to be brought back to this

sensual world by so gross an attraction as a call to supper, which put

an end to our concert, and carried us to another room, where we found a

repast more elegant than expensive.

The evening certainly is the most social part of the day, without any of

those excesses which so often turn it into senseless revelry. The

conversation after supper was particularly animated, and left us still

more charmed with the society into which chance had introduced us; the

sprightliness of their wit, the justness of their reflections, the

dignity which accompanied their vivacity, plainly evinced with how much

greater strength the mind can exert itself in a regular and rational way

of life, than in a course of dissipation. At this house every change

came too soon, time seemed to wear a double portion of wings, eleven

o'clock struck, and the ladies ordered a servant to shew us our rooms,

themselves retiring to theirs.

It was impossible for Lamont and I to part till we had spent an hour in

talking over this amiable family, with whom he could not help being much

delighted, though he observed they were very deficient in the bon ton,

there was too much solidity in all they said, they would trifle with

trifles indeed, but had not the art of treating more weighty subjects

with the same lightness, which gave them an air of rusticity; and he did

not doubt, but on a more intimate acquaintance we should find their

manners much rusticated, and their heads filled with antiquated notions,

by having lived so long out of the great world.

I rose the next morning very early, desirous to make the day, which I

purposed for the last of my abode in this mansion, as long as I could. I

went directly into the garden, which, by what I saw from the house, was

extremely pretty. As I passed by the windows of the saloon, I perceived

the ladies and their little pupils were earlier risers than myself, for

they were all at their various employments. I first went into the gayest

flower garden I ever beheld. The rainbow exhibits not half the variety

of tints, and they are so artfully mingled, and ranged to make such a

harmony of colours, as taught me how much the most beautiful objects may

be improved by a judicious disposition of them. Beyond these beds of

flowers rises a shrubbery, where every thing sweet and pleasing is

collected. As these ladies have no taste but what is directed by good

sense, nothing found a place here from being only uncommon, for they

think few things are very rare but because they are little desirable;

and indeed it is plain they are free from that littleness of mind, which

makes people value a thing the more for its being possessed by no one

but themselves. Behind the shrubbery is a little wood, which affords a

gloom, rendered more agreeable by its contrast with the dazzling beauty

of that part of the garden that leads to it. In the high pale which

encloses this wood I observed a little door, curiosity induced me to

pass through it; I found it opened on a row of the neatest cottages I

ever saw, which the wood had concealed from my view. They were new and

uniform, and therefore I imagined all dedicated to the same purpose.

Seeing a very old woman spinning at one of the doors, I accosted her, by

admiring the neatness of her habitation.

'Ay, indeed,' said she, 'it is a most comfortable place, God bless the

good ladies! I and my neighbours are as happy as princesses, we have

every thing we want and wish, and who can say more?' 'Very few so much,'

answered I, 'but pray what share have the ladies in procuring the

happiness you seem so sensible of?' 'Why Sir,' continued the old woman,

'it is all owing to them. I was almost starved when they put me into

this house, and no shame of mine, for so were my neighbours too; perhaps

we were not so painstaking as we might have been; but that was not our

fault, you know, as we had not things to work with, nor any body to set

us to work, poor folks cannot know every thing as these good ladies do;

we were half dead for want of victuals, and then people have not courage

to set about any thing. Nay, all the parish were so when they came into

it, young and old, there was not much to choose, few of us had rags to

cover us, or a morsel of bread to eat except the two Squires; they

indeed grew rich, because they had our work, and paid us not enough to

keep life and soul together, they live about a mile off, so perhaps they

did not know how poor we were, I must say that for them; the ladies tell

me I ought not to speak against them, for every one has faults, only we

see other people's, and are blind to our own; and certainly it is true

enough, for they are very wise ladies as well as good, and must know

such things.'

As my new acquaintance seemed as loquacious as her age promised, I hoped

for full satisfaction, and asked her how she and her neighbours employed

themselves.

'Not all alike,' replied the good woman, 'I will tell you all about it

There are twelve of us that live here. We have every one a house of two

rooms, as you may see, beside other conveniences, and each a little

garden, but though we are separate, we agree as well, perhaps better,

than if we lived together, and all help one another. Now, there is

neighbour Susan, and neighbour Rachel; Susan is lame, so she spins

clothes for Rachel; and Rachel cleans Susan's house, and does such

things for her as she cannot do for herself. The ladies settled all

these matters at first, and told us, that as they, to please God,

assisted us, we must in order to please him serve others; and that to

make us happy they would put us in a way, poor as we are, to do good to

many. Thus neighbour Jane who, poor woman, is almost stone deaf, they

thought would have a melancholy life if she was to be always spinning

and knitting, seeing other people around her talking, and not be able to

hear a word they said, so the ladies busy her in making broths and

caudles and such things, for all the sick poor in this and the next

parish, and two of us are fixed upon to carry what, they have made to

those that want them; to visit them often, and spend more or less time

with them every day according as they have, or have not relations to

take care of them; for though the ladies always hire nurses for those

who are very ill, yet they will not trust quite to them, but make us

overlook them, so that in a sickly time we shall be all day going from

one to another.'

'But,' said I, 'there are I perceive many children amongst you, how

happens that? Your ages shew they are not your own.'

'Oh! as for that,' replied my intelligencer, 'I will tell you how that

is. You must know these good ladies, heaven preserve them! take every

child after the fifth of every poor person, as soon as it can walk, till

when they pay the mother for nursing it; these children they send to us

to keep out of harm, and as soon as they can hold a knitting-needle to

teach them to knit, and to spin, as much as they can be taught before

they are four or five years old, when they are removed into one of the

schools. They are pretty company for us, and make us mothers again, as

it were, in our old age; then the children's relations are all so fond

of us for our care of them, that it makes us a power of friends, which

you know is very pleasant, though we want nothing from them but their

good wills.'

Here I interrupted her by observing, that it must take up a great deal

of time, and stop their work, consequently lessen their profits.

'There is nothing in that,' continued the good woman, 'the ladies'

steward sends us in all we want in the way of meat, drink and firing;

and our spinning we carry to the ladies; they employ a poor old weaver,

who before they came broke for want of work, to weave it for us, and

when there is not enough they put more to it, so we are sure to have our

clothing; if we are not idle that is all they desire, except that we

should be cleanly too. There never passes a day that one or other of the

ladies does not come and look all over our houses, which they tell us,

and certainly with truth, for it is a great deal of trouble to them, is

all for our good, for that we cannot be healthy if we are not clean and

neat. Then every Saint's day, and every Sunday after church, we all go

down to the hall, and the ladies read prayers, and a sermon to us, and

their own family; nor do they ever come here without giving us some

good advice. We used to quarrel, to be sure, sometimes when we first

came to these houses, but the ladies condescended to make it up amongst

us, and shewed us so kindly how much it was our duty to agree together,

and to forgive everybody their faults, or else we could not hope to be

forgiven by God, against whom we so often sinned, that now we love one

another like sisters, or indeed better, for I often see such quarrel.

Beside, they have taught us that we are generally in fault ourselves;

and we find now that we take care not to be perverse, our neighbours are

seldom in the wrong, and when they are, we bear with it in hopes they

will bear with us when we are as much to blame, which we may be sure

enough will happen, let us try ever so much to the contrary. Then the

ladies seem so pleased when we do any kindness to one another, as to be

sure is a great encouragement; and if any of us are sick they are so

careful and so good, that it would be a shame if we did not do all we

can for one another, who have been always neighbours and acquaintance,

when such great ladies, who never knew us, as I may say, but to make us

happy, and have no reason to take care of us but that we are poor, are

so kind and condescending to us.'

I was so pleased with the good effect which the charity of her

benefactors had on the mind, as well as the situation, of this old

woman, whose neighbours by her own account were equally benefited by the

blessings they received, that I should have stayed longer with her, if a

bell had not rung at Millenium Hall, which she informed me was a summons

to breakfast. I obeyed its call, and after thanking her for her

conversation, returned with a heart warmed and enlarged, to the amiable

society. My mind was so filled with exalted reflections on their virtues

that I was less attentive to the charms of inanimate nature than when I

first passed through the gardens.

After breakfast the ladies proposed a walk, and as they had seen the

course I took when I first went out, they led us a contrary way, lest,

they said, I should be tired with the repetition of the same scene. I

told them with, great truth, that what I had beheld could never weary,

for virtue is a subject we must ever contemplate with fresh delight,

and as such examples could not fail of improving every witness of them,

the pleasure of reflection would increase, as one daily grew more

capable of enjoying it, by cultivating kindred sensations. By some more

explicit hints they found out to what I alluded, and thereby knew where

I had been, but turning the conversation to present objects, they

conducted us to a very fine wood which is laid out with so much taste

that Lamont observed the artist's hand was never more distinguishable,

and perceived in various spots the direction of the person at present

most famous for that sort of improvement.

The ladies smiled, and one of them answered that he did their wood great

honour, in thinking art had lent her assistance to nature, but that

there was little in that place for which they were not solely obliged to

the latter. Miss Trentham interrupted her who was speaking and told us

that as she had no share in the improvements which had been made, she

might with the better grace assure Mr Lamont that Lady Mary Jones, Miss

Mancel, and Mrs Morgan were the only persons who had laid out that wood,

and the commonest labourers in the country had executed their orders.

Lamont was much surprised at this piece of information, and though he

would have thought it still more exquisitely beautiful had it been the

design of the person he imagined, yet truth is so powerful, that he

could not suppress his admiration and surprise. Every cut in it is

terminated by some noble object. In several places are seats formed with

such rustic simplicity, as have more real grandeur in them, than can be

found in the most expensive buildings. On an eminence, 'bosomed high in

tufted trees', is a temple dedicated to solitude. The structure is an

exquisite piece of architecture, the prospect from it noble and

extensive, and the windows so placed, that one sees no house but at so

considerable a distance, as not to take off from the solitary air, which

is perfectly agreeable to a temple declaredly dedicated to solitude. The

most beautiful object in the view is a very large river, in reality an

arm of the sea, little more than a quarter of a mile distant from the

building; about three miles beyond it lies the sea, on which the sun

then shone, and made it dazzlingly bright. In the temple is a picture of

Contemplation, another of Silence, two of various birds and animals, and

a couple of moonlight pieces, the workmanship of the ladies.

Close by the temple runs a gentle murmuring rivulet, which flows in

meanders through the rest of the wood, sometimes concealed from view,

and then appearing at the next turning of the walk. The wood is well

peopled with pheasants, wild turkeys, squirrels and hares, who live so

unmolested, that they seem to have forgot all fear, and rather to

welcome than flee from those who come amongst them. Man never appears

there as a merciless destroyer, but the preserver, instead of the

tyrant, of the inferior part of the creation. While they continue in

that wood, none but natural evil can approach them, and from that they

are defended as much as possible. We there 'walked joint tenant of the

shade' with the animal race; and a perfect equality in nature's bounty

seems enjoyed by the whole creation. One could scarcely forbear thinking

those happy times were come, when 'The wolf shall dwell with the lamb,

and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf, and the young

lion, and the fatling together, and a young child shall lead them. The

wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them, and the desert

shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose.'

At the verge of this wood, which extends to the river I have mentioned,

without perceiving we were entering a building, so well is the outside

of it concealed by trees, we found ourselves in a most beautiful grotto,

made of fossils, spars, coral, and such shells as are at once both fine

and rustic; all of the glaring, tawdry kind are excluded, and by the

gloom and simplicity preserved, one would imagine it the habitation of

some devout anchoret. Ivy and moss in some places cover, while they seem

to unite, the several materials of the variegated walls. The rivulet

which runs through the wood falls down one side of the grotto with great

rapidity, broken into various streams by the spar and coral, and passing

through, forms a fine cascade just at the foot of the grotto, whence it

flows into the river. Great care is taken to prevent the place from

growing damp, so that we sat some time in it with safety, admiring the

smooth surface of the river, to which it lies very open.

As the ladies had some daily business on their hands which they never

neglect, we were obliged to leave this lovely scene, where I think I

could have passed my life with pleasure, and to return towards the

house, though by a different way from that we came, traversing the other

side of the wood. In one spot where we went near the verge, I observed a

pale, which, upon examination, I found was continued for some acres,

though it was remarkable only in one place. It is painted green, and on

the inside a hedge of yews, laurel, and other thick evergreens rises to

about seven or eight feet high. I could not forbear asking what was thus

so carefully enclosed. The ladies smiled on each other, but evaded

answering my question, which only increased my curiosity. Lamont, not

less curious, and more importunate, observed that the inclosure bore

some resemblance to one of Lord Lamore's, where he kept lions, tigers,

leopards, and such foreign animals, and he would be hanged, if the

ladies had not made some such collection, intreating that he might be

admitted to see them; for nothing gave him greater entertainment than to

behold those beautiful wild beasts, brought out of their native woods,

where they had reigned as kings, and here tamed and subjected by the

superior art of man. It was a triumph of human reason, which could not

fail to afford great pleasure.

'Not to us, I assure you, Sir,' replied Miss Mancel, 'when reason

appears only in the exertion of cruelty and tyrannical oppression, it is

surely not a gift to be boasted of. When a man forces the furious steed

to endure the bit, or breaks oxen to the yoke, the great benefits he

receive from, and communicates to the animals, excuse the forcible

methods by which it is accomplished. But to see a man, from a vain

desire to have in his possession the native of another climate and

another country, reduce a fine and noble creature to misery, and confine

him within narrow inclosures whose happiness consisted in unbounded

liberty, shocks my nature. There is I confess something so amiable in

gentleness, that I could be pleased with seeing a tiger caress its

keeper, if the cruel means by which the fiercest of beasts is taught all

the servility of a fawning spaniel, did not recur every instant to my

mind; and it is not much less abhorrent to my nature, to see a venerable

lion jumping over a stick, than it would be to behold a hoary

philosopher forced by some cruel tyrant to spend his days in whipping a

top, or playing with a rattle. Every thing to me loses its charm when it

is put out of the station wherein nature, or to speak more properly, the

all-wise Creator has placed it. I imagine man has a right to use the

animal race for his own preservation, perhaps for his convenience, but

certainly not to treat them with wanton cruelty, and as it is not in his

power to give them any thing so valuable as their liberty, it is, in my

opinion, criminal to enslave them in order to procure ourselves a vain

amusement, if we have so little feeling as to find any while others

suffer.'

'I believe madam,' replied Lamont, 'it is most advisable for me not to

attempt to defend what I have said; should I have reason on my side,

while you have humanity on yours, I should make but a bad figure in the

argument. What advantage could I expect from applying to the

understanding, while your amiable disposition would captivate even

reason itself? But still I am puzzled; what we behold is certainly an

inclosure, how can that be without a confinement to those that are

within it?'

'After having spoken so much against tyranny,' said Miss Mancel,

smiling, 'I do not know whether I should be excusable if I left you to

be tyrannized by curiosity, which I believe can inflict very severe

pains, at least, if I may be allowed to judge by the means people often

take to satisfy it. I will therefore gratify you with the knowledge of

what is within this inclosure, which makes so extraordinary an

impression upon you. It is, then, an asylum for those poor creatures who

are rendered miserable from some natural deficiency or redundancy. Here

they find refuge from the tyranny of those wretches, who seem to think

that being two or three feet taller gives them a right to make them a

property, and expose their unhappy forms to the contemptuous curiosity

of the unthinking multitude. Procrustes has been branded through all

ages with the name of tyrant; and principally, as it appears, from

fitting the body of every stranger to a bed which he kept as the

necessary standard, cutting off the legs of those whose height exceeded

the length of it and stretching on the rack such as fell short of that

measure, till they attained the requisite proportion. But is not almost

every man a Procrustes? We have not the power of shewing our cruelty

exactly in the same method, but actuated by the like spirit, we abridge

of their liberty, and torment by scorn, all who either fall short, or

exceed the usual standard, if they happen to have the additional

misfortune of poverty. Perhaps we are in no part more susceptible than

in our vanity, how much then must those poor wretches suffer, whose

deformity would lead them to wish to be secluded from human view, in

being exposed to the public, whose observations are no better than

expressions of scorn, and who are surprised to find that any thing less

than themselves can speak, or appear like intelligent beings. But this

is only part of what they have to endure. As if their deficiency in

height deprived them of the natural right to air and sunshine, they are

kept confined in small rooms, and because they fill less space than

common, are stuffed into chairs so little, that they are squeezed as

close as a pair of gloves in a walnut-shell.

'This miserable treatment of persons, to whom compassion should secure

more than common indulgence, determined us to purchase these worst sort

of slaves, and in this place we have five who owed their wretchedness to

being only three foot high, one grey-headed toothless old man of sixteen

years of age, a woman of about seven foot in height, and a man who would

be still taller, if the extreme weakness of his body, and the wretched

life he for some time led, in the hands of one of these monster-mongers,

did not make him bend almost double, and oblige him to walk on crutches;

with which infirmities he is well pleased, as they reduce him nearer the

common standard.'

We were very desirous of seeing this enfranchised company; but Mrs.

Morgan told us it was what they seldom granted, for fear of inflicting

some of the pains from which they had endeavoured to rescue those poor

creatures, but she would step in, and ask if they had no objection to

our admission, and if that appeared really the case she would gratify

us.

This tenderness to persons who were under such high obligations, charmed

me. She soon returned with the permission we wished, but intreated us to

pay all our attention to the house and garden, and to take no more than

a civil notice of its inhabitants. We promised obedience, and followed

her. Her advice was almost unnecessary, for the place could not have

failed of attracting our particular observation. It was a quadrangle of

about six acres, and the inward part was divided by nets into eight

parts, four of which alternatively were filled with poultry of all

sorts, which were fed here for the use of the hall, and kept with the

most exact cleanliness. The other four parts were filled with shrubs and

flowers, which were cultivated with great delight by these once

unfortunate, but now happy beings. A little stream ran across the

quadrangle, which served for drink to the poultry, and facilitated the

watering of the flowers. I have already said, that at the inward edge of

the pale was a row of evergreens; at their feet were beds of flowers,

and a little gravel walk went round the whole. At each corner was an

arbour made with woodbines and jessamine, in one or two of which there

was always an agreeable shade.

At one side of the quadrangle was a very neat habitation, into which a

dwarf invited us to enter, to rest ourselves after our walk; they were

all passing backwards and forwards, and thus gave us a full view of

them, which would have been a shocking sight, but for the reflections we

could not avoid making on their happy condition, and the very

extraordinary humanity of the ladies to whom they owed it; so that

instead of feeling the pain one might naturally receive from seeing the

human form so disgraced, we were filled with admiration of the human

mind, when so nobly exalted by virtue, as it is in the patronesses of

these poor creatures, who wore an air of cheerfulness, which shewed they

thought the churlishness wherewith they had been treated by nature

sufficiently compensated. The tender inquiries the ladies made after

their healths, and the kind notice they took of each of them, could not

be exceeded by any thing but the affection, I might almost say

adoration, with which these people beheld their benefactresses.

This scene had made too deep an impression on our minds not to be the

subject of our discourse all the way home, and in the course of

conversation, I learnt that when these people were first rescued out of

their misery, their healths were much impaired, and their tempers more

so; to restore the first, all medicinal care was taken, and air and

exercise assisted greatly in their recovery; but to cure the malady of

the mind, and conquer that internal source of unhappiness, was a work of

longer time. Even these poor wretches had their vanity, and would

contend for superior merit, of which the argument was the money their

keepers had gained in exhibiting them. To put an end to this contention,

the ladies made them understand that what they thought a subject for

boasting, was only a proof of their being so much farther from the usual

standard of the human form, and therefore a more extraordinary

spectacle. But it was long before one of them could be persuaded to lay

aside her pretensions to superiority, which she claimed on account of an

extraordinary honour she had received from a great princess, who had

made her a present of a sedan chair.

At length, however, much reasoning and persuasion, a conviction of

principles, of which they had before no knowledge, the happiness of

their situation, and the improvement of their healths, concurred to

sweeten their tempers and they now live in great harmony. They are

entirely mistresses of their house, have two maids to wait on them, over

whom they have sole command, and a person to do such little things in

their garden as they cannot themselves perform; but the cultivation of

it is one of their great pleasures; and by their extraordinary care,

they have the satisfaction of presenting the finest flowers of the

spring to their benefactresses, before they are blown in any other

place.

A Description of Millenium Hall And the Country Adjacent Together with the Characters of the Inhabitants and Such Historical Anecdotes and Reflections As May Excite in the Reader Proper Sentiments of Humanity, and Lead the Mind to the Love of Virtue · 第 1 / 18 段