CHAP. XXXVI.

Return of madame—The Domine leaves his people—Fulfilment of his

predictions.

MADAME now returned to town with the colonel, and finding this general

disorder and division of sentiments with regard to the pastor, as well

as to the adoption of new modes, endeavoured, with her usual good sense,

to moderate and to heal. She was always of opinion that the increase of

wealth should be accompanied with a proportionate progress in refinement

and intelligence; but she had a particular dislike to peoples forsaking

a respectable plainness of dress and manners, for mere imperfect

imitation and inelegant finery. She knew too well the progress of

society to expect, that, as it grew wealthy and numerous, it would

retain its pristine purity; but then she preferred a gradual abolition

of old habits, that people, as they receded from their original modes of

thinking and living, might rather become simply elegant than tawdrily

fine; and though she all along wished, in every possible way, to promote

the comfort of the brave men to whom the country owed so much, she by no

means thought an indiscriminate admission of those strangers among the

youth of the place, so unpractised in the ways of the world, an

advisable measure: she was particularly displeased with the person in

whose house the colonel of the regiment lodged, for so entirely

domesticating a showy stranger, of whose real character he knew so

little.—Liberal and judicious in her views, she did not altogether

approve the austerity of the Domine’s opinions, nor the vehemence of his

language; and, as a Christian, she still less approved his dejection and

concern at the neglect or rudeness of a few thoughtless young persons.

In vain the colonel and madame soothed and cheered him with counsel and

with kindness; night and day he mused on the imagined insult; nor could

the joint efforts of the most respectable inhabitants prevent his heart

from being corroded with the sense of imagined unkindness. At length he

took the resolution of leaving those people so dear to him, to visit his

friends in Holland, promising to return in a short time, whenever his

health was restored, and his spirits more composed. A Dutch ship

happened about this time to touch at New-York, on board of which the

Domine embarked; but as the vessel belonging to Holland was not expected

to return, and he did not, as he had promised, either write or return in

an English ship, his congregation remained for a great while unsupplied,

while his silence gave room for the most anxious and painful

conjectures: these were not soon removed, for the intercourse with

Holland was not frequent or direct. At length, however, the sad reality

was but too well ascertained. This victim of lost popularity had

appeared silent and melancholy to his ship-mates, and walked constantly

on deck. At length he suddenly disappeared, leaving it doubtful whether

he had fallen overboard by accident, or was prompted by despair to

plunge into eternity. If this latter was the case, it must have been the

consequence of a temporary fit of insanity; for no man had led a more

spotless life, and no man was more beloved by all that were intimately

known to him. He was, indeed, before the fatal affront, which made such

an undue impression on him, considered as a blessing to the place; and

his memory was so beloved, and his fate so regretted, that this, in

addition to some other occurrences falling out about the same time,

entirely turned the tide of opinion, and rendered the thinking as well

as the violent party, more averse to innovations than ever. Had the

Albanians been Catholics, they would probably have canonized M.

Freylinghausen, whom they considered as a martyr to levity and

innovation. He prophesied a great deal; such prophecy as ardent and

comprehensive minds have delivered, without any other inspiration but

that of the sound, strong intellect, which augurs the future from a

comparison of the past, and a rational deduction of probable

consequences. The affection that was entertained for his memory induced

people to listen to the most romantic stories of his being landed on an

island, and become a hermit; taken up into a ship when floating on the

sea, into which he had accidentally fallen, and carried to some remote

country, from which he was expected to return, fraught with experience

and faith. I remember some of my earliest reveries to have been occupied

by the mysterious disappearance of this hard-fated pastor.

In the mean while new events were unfolding more fully to the Albanians

the characters of their lately acquired friends. Scandal of fifty years

standing, must, by this time, have become almost pointless. The house

where the young colonel, formerly mentioned, was billetted, and made his

quarters good by every art of seductive courtesy, was occupied by a

person wealthy, and somewhat vain and shallow, who had an only daughter;

I am not certain, but I think she was his only child. She was young,

lively, bold, conceited, and exceedingly well looking. Artless and

fearless of consequences, this thoughtless creature saw every day a

person who was no doubt as much pleased with her as one could be with

mere youth, beauty, and kindness, animated by vivacity, and

distinguished from her companions by all the embellishments which wealth

could procure in that unfashioned quarter; his heart, however, was safe,

as will appear from the sequel. Madame foresaw the consequences likely

to result from an intimacy daily growing, where there was little

prudence on the one side, and as little of that honour which should

respect unsuspecting innocence on the other. She warned the family, but

in vain; they considered marriage as the worst consequence that could

ensue; and this they could not easily have been reconciled to,

notwithstanding the family and fortune of the lover, had not his address

and attentions charmed them into a kind of tacit acquiescence; for, as a

Roman citizen, in the proud days of the republic, would have refused his

daughter to a king, an Albanian, at one period, would rather have his

daughter married to the meanest of his fellow-citizens, than to a person

of the highest rank in the army, because they thought a young person, by

such a marriage, was not only forever alienated from her family, but

from those pure morals and plain manners, in which they considered the

greatest possible happiness to exist. To return:

While these gaieties were going on, and the unhappy Domine embarking on

the voyage which terminated his career, an order came for the colonel to

march. This was the only commander who had ever been in town, who had

not spent any time, or asked any counsel at the Flats. Meanwhile, his

Calista, (for such she was,) tore her hair in frantic agonies at his

departure; not that she in the least doubted of his returning soon to

give a public sanction to their union, but lest he should prove a victim

to the war then existing; and because, being very impetuous, and

unaccustomed to control, the object of her wishes had been delayed to a

future period. In a short time, things began to assume a more serious

aspect; and her father came one day posting to the Flats, on his way to

the lakes, seeking counsel too late, and requesting the aid of their

influence to bring about a marriage, which should cover the disgrace of

his family. They had little hopes of his success, yet he proceeded; and

finding the colonel deaf to all his arguments, he had recourse to

entreaty, and finally offered to divest himself of all but a mere

subsistence, and give him such a fortune as was never heard of in that

country. This, with an angel, as the fond father thought her, appeared

irresistible; but no! heir to a considerable fortune in his own country,

and, perhaps, inwardly despising a romp, whom he had not considered from

the first as estimable, he was not to be soothed or bribed into

compliance. The dejected father returned disconsolate; and the

astonishment and horror this altogether novel occurrence occasioned in

the town, was not to be described. Of such a circumstance there was no

existing precedent; half the city were related to the fair culprit, for

penitent she could hardly be called. This unexpected refusal threw the

whole city into consternation. One would have thought there had been an

earthquake; and all the insulted Domine’s predictions rose to

remembrance, armed with avenging terrors.

Many other things occurred to justify the Domine’s caution, and the

extreme reluctance which the elders of the land showed to all such

associations. All this madame greatly lamented, yet could not acquit the

parties concerned, whose duty it was, either to keep their daughters

from that society for which their undisguised simplicity of heart

unfitted them, or give them that culture and usage of life, which

enables a young person to maintain a certain dignity, and to revolt at

the first trespass on decorum. Her own protégés were instances of this;

who, having their minds early stored with sentiments, such as would

enable them truly to estimate their own value, and judge of the

characters and pretensions of those who conversed with them; all

conducted themselves with the utmost propriety, though daily mixing with

strangers, and were solicited in marriage by the first people in the

province, who thought themselves happy to select companions from such a

school of intelligence and politeness, where they found beauty of the

first order informed by mind, and graced by the most pleasing manners.

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Memoirs of an American Lady With Sketches of Manners and Scenery in America, as They Existed Previous to the Revolution · 第 77 / 110 题