[figure description] Page 155.[end figure description]

When time had somewhat mitigated the memory of the
late disaster, the intercourse between Ormond and Constantia
was renewed. The lady did not overlook her obligations to
her friend. It was to him that she was indebted for her
father's restoration to sight, and to whom both owed, essentially,
though indirectly, their present affluence. In her mind,
gratitude was no perverse or ignoble principle. She viewed
this man as the author of extensive benefits, of which her
situation enabled her to judge with more accuracy than others.
It created no bias on her judgment, or, at least, none of
which she was sensible. Her equity was perfectly unfettered,
and she decided in a way contrary to his inclination,
with as little scruple as if the benefits had been received,
not by herself, but by him. She, indeed, intended his benefit,
though she thwarted his inclinations.

She had few visitants besides himself. Their interviews
were daily and unformal. The fate of Helena never produced
any reproaches on her part. She saw the uselessness
of recrimination, not only because she desired to produce
emotions different from those which invective is adapted
to excite, but because it was more just to soothe than to exasperate,
the inquietudes which haunted him.

She now enjoyed leisure. She had always been solicitous
for mental improvement. Any means subservient to
this end were valuable. The conversation of Ormond was
an inexhaustible fund. By the variety of topics and the
excitements to reflection it supplied, a more plenteous influx
of knowledge was produced, than could have flowed from
any other source. There was no end to the detailing of
facts, and the canvassing of theories.

I have already said, that Ormond was engaged in schemes
of an arduous and elevated nature. These were the
topics of epistolary discussion between him and a certain
number of coadjutors, in different parts of the world. In
general discourse, it was proper to maintain a uniform
silence respecting these, not only because they involved principles
and views, remote from vulgar apprehension, but

[figure description] Page 156.[end figure description]

because their success, in some measure, depended on their
secrecy. He could not give a stronger proof of his confidence
in the sagacity and steadiness of Constantia than he
now gave, by imparting to her his schemes, and requesting
her advice and assistance in the progress of them.

His disclosures, however, were imperfect. What knowledge
was imparted, instead of appeasing, only tended to
inflame her curiosity. His answers to her inquiries were
prompt, and at first sight, sufficiently explicit, but upon reconsideration,
an obscurity seemed to gather round them, to
be dispelled by new interrogatories. These, in like manner,
effected a momentary purpose, but were sure speedily to
lead into new conjectures, and re-immerse her in doubts.
The task was always new, was always on the point of
being finished, and always to be re-commenced.

Ormond aspired to nothing more ardently than to hold
the reins of opinion. To exercise absolute power over the
conduct of others, not by constraining their limbs, or by
exacting obedience to his authority, but in a way of which
his subjects should be scarcely conscious. He desired that
his guidance should control their steps, but that his agency,
when most effectual, should be least suspected.

If he were solicitous to govern the thoughts of Constantia,
or to regulate her condition, the mode which he pursued had
hitherto been admirably conducive to that end. To have
found her friendless and indigent, accorded, with the most
fortunate exactness, with his views. That she should have
descended to this depth, from a prosperous height, and
therefore be a stranger to the torpor which attends hereditary
poverty, and be qualified rightly to estimate, and use
the competence to which, by his means, she was now restored,
was all that his providence would have prescribed.

Her thoughts were equally obsequious to his direction.
The novelty and grandeur of his schemes could not fail to
transport a mind, ardent and capacious as that of Constantia.
Here his fortune had been no less propitious. He did
not fail to discover, and was not slow to seize the advantages
flowing thence. By explaining his plans, opportunity
was furnished to lead and to confine her meditations to
the desirable tract. By adding fictitious embellishments,
he adapted it with more exactness to his purpose. By

[figure description] Page 157.[end figure description]

piece-meal and imperfect disclosures, her curiosity was kept
alive.

I have described Ormond as having contracted a passion
for Constantia. This passion certainly existed in his heart,
but it must not be conceived to be immutable, or to operate
independently of all those impulses and habits, which time
had interwoven in his character. The person and affections
of this woman, were the objects sought by him, and which
it was the dearest purpose of his existence to gain. This
was his supreme good, though the motives to which it was
indebted for its pre-eminence in his imagination, were numerous
and complex.

I have enumerated his opinions on the subject of wedlock.
The question will obviously occur, whether Constantia was
sought by him, with upright or flagitious views. His sentiments
and resolutions, on this head, had for a time fluctuated,
but were now steadfast. Marriage was, in his eyes,
hateful and absurd as ever. Constantia was to be obtained
by any means. If other terms were rejected, he was willing,
for the sake of this good, to accept her as a wife; but this
was a choice to be made, only when every expedient was exhausted,
for reconciling her to a compact of a different kind.

For this end, he prescribed to himself a path suited to
the character of this lady. He made no secret of his sentiments
and views. He avowed his love, and described,
without scruple, the scope of his wishes. He challenged
her to confute his principles, and promised a candid audience
and profound consideration to her arguments. Her
present opinions he knew to be adverse to his own, but he
hoped to change them, by subtilty and perseverance. His
further hopes and designs, he concealed from her. She
was unaware, that if he were unable to effect a change in
her creed, he was determined to adopt a system of imposture.
To assume the guise of a convert to her doctrines,
and appear as devout as herself in his notions of the sanctity
of marriage.

Perhaps it was not difficult, to have foreseen the consequence
of these projects. Constantia's peril was imminent.
This arose not only from the talents and address of Ormond,
but from the community of sentiment, which already existed

[figure description] Page 158.[end figure description]

between them. She was unguarded in a point, where, if
not her whole, yet, doubtless, her principal security and
strongest bulwark would have existed. She was unacquainted
with religion. She was unhabituated to conform
herself to any standard, but that connected with the present
life. Matrimonial, as well as every other human duty, was
disconnected in her mind, with any awful or divine sanction.
She formed her estimate of good and evil, on nothing but
terrestrial and visible consequences.

This defect in her character, she owed to her father's
system of education. Mr. Dudley was an adherent to what
he conceived to be true religion. No man was more passionate
in his eulogy of his own form of devotion and belief,
or in his invectives against atheistical dogmas; but he reflected
that religion assumed many forms, one only of which
is salutary or true, and that truth in this respect, is incompatible
with infantile and premature instruction.

To this subject, it was requisite to apply the force of a
mature and unfettered understanding. For this end he labored
to lead away the juvenile reflections of Constantia,
from religious topics, to detain them in the paths of history
and eloquence. To accustom her to the accuracy of geometrical
deduction, and to the view of those evils, that have
flowed in all ages, from mistaken piety.

In consequence of this scheme, her habits rather than her
opinions, were undevout. Religion was regarded by her,
not with disbelief, but with absolute indifference. Her good
sense forbade her to decide before inquiry, but her modes
of study and reflection were foreign to, and unfitted her for,
this species of discussion. Her mind was seldom called to
mediatate on this subject, and when it occurred, her perceptions
were vague and obscure. No objects, in the sphere
which she occupied, were calculated to suggest to her the
importance of investigation and certainty.

It becomes me to confess, however reluctantly, thus much
concerning my friend. However abundantly endowed in
other respects, she was a stranger to the felicity and excellence
flowing from religion. In her struggles with misfortune,
she was supported and cheered by the sense of no approbation,
but her own. A defect of this nature will perhaps
be regarded as of less moment, when her extreme

[figure description] Page 159.[end figure description]

youth is remembered. All opinions in her mind were mutable,
inasmuch as the progress of her understanding was
incessant.

It was otherwise with Ormond. His disbelief was at
once unchangeable and strenuous. The universe was to
him a series of events, connected by an undesigning and inscrutable
necessity, and an assemblage of forms, to which no
beginning or end can be conceived. Instead of transient
views and vague ideas, his meditations, on religious points,
had been intense. Enthusiasm was added to disbelief, and
he not only dissented but abhorred.

He deemed it prudent, however, to disguise sentiments,
which, if unfolded in their full force, would wear to her the
appearance of insanity. But he saw and was eager to improve
the advantage, which his anti-nuptial creed derived
from the unsettled state of her opinions. He was not unaware,
likewise, of the auspicious and indispensable co-operation
of love. If this advocate were wanting in her bosom,
all his efforts would be in vain. If this pleader were engaged
in his behalf, he entertained no doubts of his ultimate success.
He conceived that her present situation, all whose
comforts were the fruits of his beneficence, and which afforded
her no other subject of contemplation than himself, was
as favorable as possible to the growth of this passion.

Constantia was acquainted with his wishes. She could
not fail to see, that she might speedily be called upon to determine
a momentous question. Her own sensations and
the character of Ormond, were, therefore, scrutinized with
suspicious attention. Marriage could be justified in her eyes,
only by community of affections and opinions. She might
love without the sanction of her judgment, but while destitute
of that sanction, she would never suffer it to sway her
conduct.

Ormond was imperfectly known. What knowledge she
had gained, flowed chiefly from his own lips, and was therefore
unattended with certainty. What portion of deceit or
disguise was mixed with his conversation, could be known,
only by witnessing his actions with her own eyes, and comparing
his testimony with that of others. He had embraced
a multitude of opinions, which appeared to her erroneous.
Till these were rectified, and their conclusions were made

[figure description] Page 160.[end figure description]

to correspond, wedlock was improper. Some of these obscurities
might be dispelled, and some of these discords be
resolved into harmony by time. Meanwhile, it was proper
to guard the avenues to her heart, and screen herself from
self-delusion.

There was no motive to conceal her reflections, on this
topic, from her father. Mr. Dudley discovered, without her
assistance, the views of Ormond. His daughter's happiness
was blended with his own. He lived, but in the consciousness
of her tranquillity. Her image was seldom absent from
his eyes, and never from his thoughts. The emotions which
it excited, sprung but in part from the relationship of father.
It was gratitude and veneration, which she claimed from him,
and which filled him with rapture.

He ruminated deeply on the character of Ormond. The
political and anti-theological tenets of this man were regarded,
not merely with disapprobation, but antipathy. He was
not ungrateful for the benefits which had been conferred upon
him. Ormond's peculiarities of sentiment, excited no impatience,
as long as he was regarded merely as a visitant.
It was only as one claiming to possess his daughter, that his
presence excited in Mr. Dudley, trepidation and loathing.

Ormond was unacquainted with what was passing in the
mind of Mr. Dudley. The latter conceived his own benefactor
and his daughter's friend, to be entitled to the most
scrupulous and affable urbanity. His objections to a nearer
alliance were urged with frequent and pathetic vehemence,
only in his private interviews with Constantia. Ormond and
he seldom met; Mr. Dudley, as soon as his sight was perfectly
retrieved, betook himself with eagerness to painting,
an amusement, which his late privations had only contributed
to endear to him.

Things remained nearly on their present footing for some
months. At the end of this period, some engagement obliged
Ormond to leave the city. He promised to return with
as much speed as circumstances would admit. Meanwhile
his letters supplied her with topics of reflection. These
were frequently received, and were models of that energy
of style, which results from simplicity of structure, from picturesque
epithets, and from the compression of much meaning
into few words. His arguments seldom imparted conviction,

[figure description] Page 161.[end figure description]

but delight never failed to flow from their lucid order and
cogent brevity. His narratives were unequalled for rapidity
and comprehensiveness. Every sentence was a treasury to
moralists and painters.