'As no one is obliged to stay a minute longer in company than she

chooses, she naturally retires as soon as it grows displeasing to her,

and does not return till she is prompted by inclination, and

consequently well disposed to amuse and be amused. They live in the very

strict practice of all religious duties; and it is not to be imagined

how much good they have done in the neighbourhood; how much by their

care the manners of the poorer people are reformed, and their

necessities relieved, though without the distribution of much money; I

say much, because, small as their incomes are, there are many who impart

out of that little to those who have much less.

'Their visits to us are frequent, and we are on such a footing that they

never impede any of our employments. My friends always insisted when

they waited on the community, that not one of the sisterhood should

discontinue whatever they found her engaged in; this gave them the hint

to do the same by us, and it is a rule that no book is thrown aside, no

pen laid down at their entrance. There are always some of us manually

employed, who are at leisure to converse, and if the visit is not very

short, part of it is generally spent in hearing one of the girls read

aloud, who take it by turns through a great part of the day; the only

difference made for this addition to the company is a change of books,

that they may not hear only part of a subject, and begin by a broken

thread. Thus they give no interruption, and therefore neither trouble

us, nor are themselves scrupulous about coming, so that few days pass

without our seeing some of them, though frequently only time enough to

accompany us in our walks, or partake of our music.'

'Have you not,' said Lamont, 'been obliged to expel many from the

community? Since you do not allow petulancy of temper, nor any lightness

of conduct, I should expect a continual revolution.'

'By no means,' answered Mrs Maynard, 'since the establishment of the

community there has been but one expelled; and one finding she was in

danger of incurring the same sentence, and I believe inwardly disgusted

with a country life, retired of her own free choice. Some more have

rendered themselves so disagreeable, that the question has been put to

the ballot; but the fear of being dismissed made them so diligent to get

the majority on their side, before the hour appointed for decision

arrived, that it has been determined in their favour, and the earnest

desire not to be brought into the same hazard again has induced them to

mend their tempers, and some of these are now the most amiable people in

the whole community.

'As for levity of conduct they are pretty well secured from it, by being

exposed to few temptations in this retired place.

'Some, as in the course of nature must happen, have died, and most of

them bequeathed what little they had towards constituting a fund for the

continuation of the community. More of them have married; some to

persons who knew them before, others to gentlemen in the neighbourhood,

or such as happened to come into it; to whom their admirable conduct

recommended them.'

I could not help exclaiming, 'In what a heaven do you live, thus

surrounded by people who owe all their happiness to your goodness! This

is, indeed, imitating your Creator, and in such proportion as your

faculties will admit, partaking of his felicity, since you can no where

cast your eyes without beholding numbers who derive every earthly good

from your bounty and are indebted to your care and example for a

reasonable hope of eternal happiness.'

'I will not,' said Mrs Maynard, 'give up my share of the felicity you so

justly imagine these ladies must enjoy, though I have no part in what

occasions it. When I reflect on all the blessings they impart, and see

how happiness flows, as it were, in an uninterrupted current from their

hands and lips, I am overwhelmed with gratitude to the Almighty disposer

of my fate, for having so mercifully thrown me into such a scene of

felicity, where every hour yields true heart-felt joy, and fills me with

thanksgiving to him who enables them thus to dispense innumerable

blessings, and so greatly rewards them already by the joyful

consciousness of having obeyed him.'

The ladies at this time were at too great a distance to hear our

conversation, for not choosing to be present while their actions were

the subjects of discourse, they had gradually strayed from us. Upon

enquiring of my cousin whether the persons in the large community we had

been talking of brought any fortunes with them, she told me that most of

them had a trifle, some not more than a hundred pounds. That in general

the ladies chose to admit those who had least, as their necessities were

greatest, except where some particular circumstances rendered protection

more requisite to others. That the house not being large enough to

contain more than were already established in it, they have been obliged

to refuse admission to many, and especially some young women of near two

thousand pounds fortune, the expensive turn of the world now being such

that no gentlewoman can live genteelly on the interest of that sum, and

they prefer this society to a retirement in a country town. Some who

wished to board, have likewise been refused. As the expenses of the

first community fall so far short of their expectation, and the sums

appropriated for that purpose, they determined to hazard another of the

same kind, and have just concluded a treaty for a still larger mansion,

at about three miles distance, and by the persons now waiting for it,

they have reason to believe it will not be less successful than the

other, nor more expensive, but should they be mistaken in that

particular, they have laid aside a fund sufficient to discharge it.

Their scheme I find is to have some of the ladies down to Millenium Hall

as soon as they have made the purchase, and there they are to remain,

while the necessary repairs and additions are making to the house

designed for their habitation, which they imagine will not be completed

in less than half a year. They hope, by having the first admitted part

of the community thus in the house with them for so long a time, to

compensate, in a good degree, for the disadvantages of being settled so

much farther from them. The sisterhood of the other society, likewise,

in pity to those who are exposed to the same sufferings from which they

have been delivered, have offered to crowd themselves for a few months,

to leave vacant rooms for some who are destined to the other house, till

they can be there accommodated. These also will be fitted for their new

way of life, and taught to aim at the happiness enjoyed in this

community, by the same means that they have attained to it.

Our subject ended with our walk. Supper was served as soon as we entered

the house, and general conversation concluded the evening.

Had I not been led by several facts to repeat already so many

conversations, I should be induced not to bury all that passed at this

time in silence; but though I have taken the liberty, when the relation

of facts naturally led to it, to communicate such discourses as were

pertinent to the subject, it would be presuming too far on your time to

repeat conversations which did not serve to illustrate any particular

actions, however worthy they maybe of recollection. I shall therefore

only say that it was not with less reluctance I retired to my chamber,

at the hour of bed-time, than the night before.

The next morning proved rainy, which prevented me from making any early

excursion. But as it cleared up about eleven o'clock, Lamont and I went

into the garden, to enjoy the fragrance which every herb and flower

exhales at this time of the year, after the desirable refreshment of

gentle showers. I conducted him to the flower garden, which had so much

delighted me the morning before; and we had not paid due admiration to

all the vegetable beauties there exhibited to our view when Mrs Maynard

joined us.

I told her it was but a poor compliment to her conversation to say I

longed for her company, since now my curiosity might occasion that

impatience, which I should nevertheless have felt, had I not been left

in painful suspense by the interruption we had received the day before,

in the midst of her narrative.

'It would be unnatural,' said she, 'for a woman to quarrel with

curiosity; so far from complaining of yours, I am come merely with a

design to gratify it, and only expect you will judge of my desire to

oblige you by my readiness in obeying your commands; were I myself the

subject, the motive for my obedience might be equivocal.'

The History of Miss Mancel and Mrs Morgan continued

I think, continued Mrs Maynard, we left Miss Melvyn requiring to be

confronted by her accuser, a request which her step-mother was not

inclined to grant; for though in her dealings with young Simon she had

perceived such a degree of solicitude for his own interest, and such

flagrant proofs of want of integrity, that she did not doubt but that by

promising him the farm on rather better terms than she had yet consented

to he might be prevailed with to join so far in her scheme as to assert

any thing to Sir Charles, yet she dared not venture to produce him face

to face to Miss Melvyn, fearing lest his assurance should fail him on

so severe a trial.

She replied, therefore, that the proofs were too strong to admit of

doubt, but she could not think of exposing Miss Melvyn to the

mortification of hearing her depravity witnessed by, perhaps, the last

person whom she expected should acknowledge it. Besides, that by such an

eclat the disgrace must infallibly become public, and she be deprived of

the only means left her of rescuing her reputation from that infamy, to

which, in a very short time, it must have been irrecoverably condemned;

for it could not be supposed that Mr Morgan would accept as his wife a

woman with a sullied character.

Miss Melvyn was almost distracted, at being both so injuriously accused

and denied the liberty of defending herself; she begged, she intreated,

on her knees, that Sir Charles would not suffer her to fall a prey to

such undeserved malice. She asserted her innocence in the strongest and

most persuasive terms, and insisted so warmly on her demand of being

confronted with her accusers, that her father grew inclined to grant her

just request. Lady Melvyn, perceiving he began to comply, repeated her

refusal in the most peremptory manner, and declaring to Miss Melvyn that

she had no other choice left her but either to resolve to marry Mr

Morgan or to be exposed to shame in being publicly disclaimed by her

parents, who would no longer suffer her to remain in their house, led

Sir Charles out of the room; and he, though reluctant, dared not refuse

to accompany her.

Miss Melvyn was now left to reflect on this dreadful alternative. Filled

with horror at the shocking conduct of her step-mother, terrified with

her threats, and sensible there was no villainy she was not capable of

perpetrating rather than give up a point she was thus determined to

carry, she was incapable of forming any resolution. She ran to her

friend, to seek from her that advice and consolation which her own

distracted thoughts could not afford her.

Miss Mancel was so struck with the terror and amazement which was still

impressed on Miss Melvyn's countenance, that she had not for some time

courage to ask the cause. Trembling with fears of she knew not what,

she embraced her distressed friend with an air of such tender, though

silent sympathy, as softened the horror of Miss Melvyn's mind, and

brought a shower of tears to her relief, which at length enabled her to

relate all that had passed between her and her parents. Louisa found it

much easier to join in her friend's grief than to administer

consolation. She knew not what to advise; two artless, virtuous young

women were ill qualified to contend with Lady Melvyn, especially in an

affair which could not be rendered public without hazarding Miss

Melvyn's character; for reputation is so delicate a thing that the least

surmise casts a blemish on it; the woman who is suspected is disgraced;

and though Lady Melvyn did not stand high in the public opinion, yet it

was scarcely possible for any one to believe she could be guilty of such

flagrant wickedness.

Miss Melvyn had a very strong dislike to Mr Morgan, whose disposition

appeared as ill suited to hers as his age; to enter into wedlock without

any prospect of social happiness seemed to her one of the greatest

misfortunes in life; but what was still of more weight in her

estimation, she thought it the highest injustice to marry a man whom she

could not love, as well as a very criminal mockery of the most solemn

vows. On the other side she considered that to preserve her reputation

was not only necessary to her own happiness, but a duty to society. 'It

is true,' said she, 'I am not placed in a very conspicuous sphere of

life, but I am far from being of a rank so obscure that my actions will

affect no one but myself; nor indeed do I know any so low, but they have

their equals who may copy after them, if they have no inferiors. The

care of our virtue we owe to ourselves, the preservation of our

characters is due to the world, and both are required by him who

commands us to preserve ourself pure and unpolluted, and to contribute

as far as we are able to the well-being of all his creatures. Example is

the means given universally to all whereby to benefit society. I

therefore look on it as one of our principal duties to avoid every

imputation of evil; for vice appears more or less hateful as it becomes

more or less familiar. Every vicious person abates the horror which it

should naturally excite in a virtuous mind. There is nothing so odious

to which custom will not in some degree reconcile us; can we expect

then, that vice, which is not without its allurements, should alone

retain all its deformity, when we are familiarized to its appearance. I

should never therefore esteem myself innocent, however pure my actions,

if I incurred the reputation of being otherwise, when it was in my power

to avoid it. With this way of thinking, my Louisa, you may imagine that

I might be brought to believe it my duty to sacrifice my ease of mind,

to the preservation of my character, but in my case, there is no choice;

I must either add to the contamination of a very profligate world, or,

in the face of Heaven, enter into the most solemn vows to love a man,

whom the most I can do is not to hate. This is wilful perjury. In such

an alternative duty cannot direct me, and misery must follow my

decision, let me determine as I will.'

In this irresolution, Miss Melvyn left her friend, but the vent she had

given to her grief had greatly calmed her spirits and restored her to

the power of reflection. At her entrance into the house, she met Lady

Melvyn, who with a very stern countenance ordered her to go and

entertain Mr Morgan, who waited for her in the parlour. She found him

alone, and as he began to renew his addresses, which a repulse from her

had not discouraged, since he hoped to succeed by the influence her

parents had over her, she immediately formed the resolution of

endeavouring to make him relinquish his pretensions, in hopes that if

the refusal came from him, he might become the object of her mother's

indignation, and her persecution might drop, at least for a time. She

therefore frankly told him, that tho' her affections were entirely

disengaged, yet he was so very repugnant to them that it was impossible

she should ever feel that regard for him which he had a right to expect

from his wife; and therefore intreated him, in consideration of his own

happiness, if hers were indifferent to him, not to persist in a pursuit

which, if successful, could not answer his hopes, nor reduce her to

render herself wretched by becoming his wife, or to exasperate her

parents by refusing him. She then added all her heart could suggest to

flatter him into compliance with this request.

Mr Morgan's foible was not an excess of delicacy; he told her plainly,

he admired her eloquence prodigiously, but that there was more rhetoric

in her beauty than any composition of words could contain; which

pleading in direct contradiction to all she had said, she must excuse

him, if he was influenced by the more powerful oratory of her charms;

and her good sense and unexceptionable conduct convinced him, that when

it became her duty to love him, she would no longer remain indifferent.

All Miss Melvyn could urge to shew him this was but a very poor

dependence, had no sort of weight, and he parted from her only more

determined to hasten the conclusion of their marriage.

Lady Melvyn had not been idle all this time; she had prevailed on young

Simon to acquiesce in the questions she put to him before Sir Charles,

either by giving short answers, or by down cast eyes, which signified

assent. With this Sir Charles acquainted Miss Melvyn, and insisted on

her not thinking of exposing herself to the indignity of having the

whole affair discussed in her presence. All the indignation that

undeserved calumny can excite in an innocent mind could not have enabled

Miss Melvyn to bear being charged before so low a creature, with a

passion for him, and still less to have heard the suborned wretch

pretend to confess it. She therefore found no difficulty in obeying her

father in that particular, and rather chose to submit to the imputation

than to undergo the shame which she must have suffered in endeavouring

to confute it. She attempted to persuade Sir Charles to permit her to

stay in the house under what restrictions he and his lady should think

proper, till her conduct should sufficiently convince him of her

innocence, and not to force her into a hated marriage, or unjustly

expose her to disgrace and infamy. Her tears and intreaties would soon

have softened his heart; and as far as he dared he shewed an inclination

to comply with so reasonable a proposal; but his lady easily obliged him

to retract and to deprive Miss Melvyn of all hopes of any mitigation of

the sentence already pronounced against her.

Could she without the loss of reputation have fled to a remote part of

the kingdom, and have hid herself in some obscure cottage, though

reduced to labour for a subsistence, she would have thought it a state

far more eligible than becoming Mr Morgan's wife; but if she thus turned

fugitive and wanderer, in what light could she expect to be seen by the

world; especially as Lady Melvyn would infallibly, to remove any blame

from herself, be liberal in her aspersions? Where she should be unknown,

whatever disgrace might be affixed to her name, she herself might escape

censure; but yet she would not be less guilty of a violation of her duty

to society, since she must appear very culpable to those who knew her,

and contribute to the depravity of others, as far as was in her power,

by an example which, her motives being unknown, would appear a very bad

one.

This consideration determined her to sacrifice her peace to her

character; for by having told Mr Morgan the true state of her heart, she

had acquitted herself from any charge of attempting, by the gift of her

hand, to deceive him into a belief that he was the object of her

affections. She still had scruples about entering into the matrimonial

state, on motives so different from those which ought to influence every

one in a union of that kind: these were not to be removed, but she

imagined this might in some measure be excused as the least culpable

part she could act; and since man was herein neither her judge nor

accuser, she hoped the integrity of her mind would be received as some

alleviation of a fault she was thus forced to commit, since she was

determined in the strictest manner to adhere to every duty of her

station.

Having formed this resolution, she went to consult her friend upon it,

who as a person less perplexed, though scarcely less concerned, as their

affections were so strongly united, that one could not suffer without

the other's feeling equal pain, might possibly be a calmer judge in so

delicate a point. Louisa subscribed to her friend's sentiments on the

occasion, only desired her to consider well, whether she should be able

to bear all the trials she might meet with in the married state when she

was entirely indifferent to her husband.

'My prospect,' said Miss Melvyn, 'I am sensible is extremely melancholy.

All inclination must now be laid aside, and duty must become my sole

guide and director. Happiness is beyond my view; I cannot even hope for

ease, since I must keep a constant restraint on my very thoughts.

Indifference will become criminal; and if I cannot conquer it, to

conceal it at least will be a duty. I have learnt to suffer, but was

never yet taught disguise and hypocrisy; herein will consist my greatest

difficulty; I abhor deceit, and yet must not shew the real sentiments of

my heart. Linked in society with a man I cannot love, the world can

afford me no pleasure, indeed no comfort, for I am insensible to all joy

but what arises from the social affections. The grave, I confess,

appears to me far more eligible than this marriage, for I might there

hope to be at peace. Mr Morgan's fortune is large, but his mind is

narrow and ungenerous, and his temper plainly not good. If he really

loved me, he could not suffer me to be forced into a marriage which he

well knows I detest: a knowledge which will not mend my fate, most

certainly.

'Could I enjoy the pleasures of self-approbation, it would be impossible

to be very wretched, but the most exact performance of my duty will not

yield me that gratification, since I cannot be perfectly satisfied that

I do right in marrying a man so very disagreeable to me. I fear the

pride of reputation influences me more than I imagine, and though it is

as justifiable as any pride, yet still it is certainly no virtue.'

'When I reflect,' said she afterwards, 'on the step I am going to take,

my terrors are inexpressible; how dreadful is it at my age, when nature

seems to promise me so many years of life, to doom myself to a state of

wretchedness which death alone can terminate, and wherein I must bury

all my sorrows in silence, without even the melancholy relief of pouring

them forth in the bosom of my friend, and seeking, from her tender

participation, the only consolation I could receive! For after this

dreaded union is completed, duty will forbid me to make my distresses

known, even to my Louisa; I must not then expose the faults of him whose

slightest failings I ought to conceal. One only hope remains, that you,

my first and dearest friend, will not abandon me; that whatever cloud of

melancholy may hang over my mind, yet you will still bear with me, and

remove your abode to a place where I may have the consolation of your

company. If it be in my power to make my house a comfortable habitation

to my Louisa, I cannot be entirely wretched.'

Miss Mancel gave her the tenderest assurances of fixing at least in her

neighbourhood, since a second paradise could not recompense her for the

loss of her society; and that on no terms could she prevail on herself

to continue in a house where she must see that wretched Simon, who had

been a vile instrument in reducing her friend to that distressful

situation. This gleam of comfort was a very seasonable relief to Miss

Melvyn's dejected spirits, and gave some respite to her tears.

As soon as she returned home, she acquainted Sir Charles and Lady Melvyn

with her resolution, who soon communicated it to Mr Morgan; and nothing

was now thought of but hastening the wedding as much as possible.

'I wonder,' interrupted Lamont, 'how Miss Melvyn could bring herself to

let her step-mother have such an opportunity of exulting in the success

of her detestable arts.'

'That,' replied Mrs Maynard, 'was a consideration which had no weight

with her, nor should it indeed be any mortification to our pride that

deceit and cunning have triumphed over us. Wickedness serves itself by

weapons which we would not use, and if we are wounded with them, we have

no more reason to be mortified than a man would have to think his

courage disgraced because when he lay sleeping in his bed he was taken

prisoner by a body of armed men. To be circumvented by cunning must ever

be the fate, but never the disgrace, of the artless.'

As Miss Melvyn's compliance procured her a greater degree of favour at

home than she had ever before enjoyed, Miss Mancel was suffered to come

to the house, and met with an obliging reception from the whole family.

Her continual presence there was a great support to her friend in her

very disagreeable situation, and after indulging her sorrow in their

private conversation, and mingling their sympathetic tears, she was the

better able to endure the restraint which she was obliged to undergo

when any other person was present.

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 6 / 18 段