CHAPTER VIII.

  When time had somewhat mitigated the memory of the late disaster, theintercourse between Ormond and Constantia was renewed. The lady did notoverlook her obligations to her friend. It was to him that she wasindebted 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 asthe author of extensive benefits, of which her situation enabled her tojudge with more accuracy than others. It created no bias on herjudgement, or, at least, none of which she was sensible. Her equity wasperfectly unfettered; and she decided in a way contrary to hisinclination, with as little scruple as if the benefits had beenreceived, not by herself, but by him. She indeed intended his benefit,though she thwarted his inclinations.

  She had few visitants beside himself. Their interviews were daily andunformal. The fate of Helena never produced any reproaches on her part.She saw the uselessness of recrimination, not only because she desiredto produce emotions different from those which infective is adapted toexcite, but because it was more just to soothe than to exasperate theinquietudes which haunted him.

  She now enjoyed leisure. She had always been solicitous for mentalimprovement. Any means subservient to this end were valuable. Theconversation of Ormond was an inexhaustible fund. By the variety oftopics and the excitement to reflection it supplied, a more plenteousinflux of knowledge was produced than could have flowed from any othersource. There was no end to the detailing of facts, and the canvassingof theories.

  I have already said that Ormond was engaged in schemes of an arduous andelevated nature. These were the topics of epistolary discussion betweenhim and a certain number of coadjutors, in different parts of the world.In general discourse, it was proper to maintain a uniform silencerespecting these, not only because they involved principles and viewsremote from vulgar apprehension, but because their success, in somemeasure, depended on their secrecy. He could not give a stronger proofof his confidence in the sagacity and steadiness of Constantia than henow gave, by imparting to her his schemes, and requesting her advice andassistance in the progress of them.

  His disclosures, however, were imperfect. What knowledge was imparted,instead of appeasing, only tended to inflame her curiosity. His answersto her inquiries were prompt, and, at first sight, sufficientlyexplicit; but upon reconsideration, an obscurity seemed to gather roundthem, to be dispelled by new interrogatories. These, in like manner,effected a momentary purpose, but were sure speedily to lead into newconjectures, and reimmerse her in doubts. The task was always new, wasalways on the point of being finished, and always to be recommenced.

  Ormond aspired to nothing more ardently than to hold the reins ofopinion,--to exercise absolute power over the conduct of others, not byconstraining their limbs, or by exacting obedience to his authority, butin a way of which his subjects should be scarcely conscious. He desiredthat his guidance should control their steps, but that his agency, whenmost effectual, should be least suspected.

  If he were solicitous to govern the thoughts of Constantia, or toregulate her condition, the mode which he pursued had hitherto beenadmirably conducive to that end. To have found her friendless andindigent, 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 hereditarypoverty, and be qualified rightly to estimate and use the competence towhich, by this means, she was now restored, was all that his providencewould have prescribed.

  Her thoughts were equally obsequious to his direction. The novelty andgrandeur of his schemes could not fail to transport a mind ardent andcapacious as that of Constantia. Here his fortune had been no lesspropitious. He did not fail to discover, and was not slow to seize, theadvantages flowing thence. By explaining his plans, opportunity wasfurnished to lead and to confine her meditations to the desirable tract.By adding fictitious embellishments, he adapted it with more exactnessto his purpose. By piecemeal and imperfect disclosures her curiositywas kept alive.

  I have described Ormond at having contracted a passion for Constantia.This passion certainly existed in his heart, but it must not beconceived to be immutable, or to operate independently of all thoseimpulses and habits which time had interwoven in his character. Theperson and affections of this woman were the objects sought by him, andwhich it was the dearest purpose of his existence to gain. This was hissupreme good, though the motives to which it was indebted for itspre-eminence in his imagination were numerous and complex.

  I have enumerated his opinions on the subject of wedlock. The questionwill obviously occur, whether Constantia was sought by him with uprightor flagitious views. His sentiments and resolution on this head had fora 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 whenevery expedient was exhausted for reconciling her to a compact of adifferent kind.

  For this end he, prescribed to himself a path suited to the character ofthis lady. He made no secret of his sentiments and views. He avowed hislove, and described, without scruple, the scope of his wishes. Hechallenged her to confute his principles, and promised a candid audienceand profound consideration to her arguments. Her present opinions heknew to be adverse to his own, but he hoped to change them by subtletyand 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 guiseof a convert to her doctrines, and appear as devout as herself in hisnotions of the sanctity of marriage.

  Perhaps it was not difficult to have foreseen the consequence of theseprojects. Constantia's peril was imminent. This arose not only from thetalents and address of Ormond, but from the community of sentiment whichalready existed between them. She was unguarded in a point where, if nother whole yet doubtless her principal security and strongest bulwarkwould have existed. She was unacquainted with religion. She wasunhabituated to conform herself to any standard but that connected withthe present life. Matrimonial as well as every other human duty, wasdisconnected in her mind with any awful or divine sanction. She formedher estimate of good and evil on nothing but terrestrial and visibleconsequences.

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

  To this subject it was requisite to apply the force of a mature andunfettered understanding. For this end he laboured to lead away thejuvenile reflections of Constantia from religious topics, to detain themin the paths of history and eloquence,--to accustom her to the accuracyof geometrical deduction, and to the view of those evils that haveflowed in all ages, from mistaken piety.

  In consequence of this scheme, her habits rather than her opinions, wereundevout. Religion was regarded by her not with disbelief, but withabsolute indifference. Her good sense forbade her to decide beforeinquiry, but her modes of study and reflection were foreign to, andunfitted her for this species of discussion. Her mind was seldom calledto meditate on this subject, and when it occurred, her perceptions werevague and obscure. No objects, in the sphere which she occupied, werecalculated to suggest to her the importance of investigation andcertainty.

  It becomes me to confess, however reluctantly, thus much concerning myfriend. However abundantly endowed in other respects, she was a strangerto the felicity and excellence flowing from religion. In her struggleswith misfortune, she was supported and cheered by the sense of noapprobation but her own. A defect of this nature
will perhaps beregarded as of less moment when her extreme youth is remembered. Allopinion in her mind were mutable, inasmuch as the progress of herunderstanding was incessant.

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

  He deemed it prudent, however, to disguise sentiments which, if unfoldedin their full force, would wear to her the appearance of insanity. Buthe saw and was eager to improve the advantage which his anti-nuptialcreed derived from the unsettled state of her opinions. He was notunaware, likewise, of the auspicious and indispensable co-operation oflove. If this advocate were wanting in her bosom, all his efforts wouldbe in vain. If this pleader were engaged in his behalf, he entertainedno doubts of his ultimate success. He conceived that her presentsituation, all whose comforts were the fruits of his beneficence, andwhich afforded her no other subject of contemplation than himself, wasas favourable as possible to the growth of this passion.

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

  Ormond was imperfectly known. What knowledge she had gained flowedchiefly from his own lips, and was therefore unattended with certainty.What portion of deceit or disguise was mixed with his conversation couldbe known only by witnessing his actions with her own eyes and comparinghis testimony with that of others. He had embraced a multitude ofopinions which appeared to her erroneous. Till these were rectified, andtheir conclusions were made to correspond, wedlock was improper. Some ofthese obscurities might be dispelled, and some of these discords beresolved into harmony by time. Meanwhile it was proper to guard theavenues to her heart, and screen herself from self-delusion.

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

  He ruminated deeply on the character of Ormond. The political andanti-theological tenets of this man were regarded, not merely withdisapprobation, but antipathy. He was not ungrateful for the benefitswhich had been conferred upon him. Ormond's peculiarities of sentimentexcited no impatience, as long as he was regarded merely as a visitant.It was only as one claiming to possess his daughter that his presenceexcited, 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 beentitled to the most scrupulous and affable urbanity. His objections toa nearer alliance were urged with frequent and pathetic vehemence onlyin his private interviews with Constantia. Ormond and he seldom met. Mr.Dudley, as soon as his sight was perfectly retrieved, betook himselfwith eagerness to painting,--an amusement which his late privations hadonly contributed to endear to him.

  Things remained nearly on their present footing for some months. At theend of this period some engagement obliged Ormond to leave the city. Hepromised to return with as much speed as circumstances would admit.Meanwhile, his letters supplied her with topics of reflection. Thesewere frequently received, and were models of that energy of style whichresults from simplicity of structure, from picturesque epithets, andfrom the compression of much meaning into few words. His argumentsseldom imparted conviction, but delight never failed to flow from theirlucid order and cogent brevity. His narratives were unequalled forrapidity and comprehensiveness. Every sentence was a treasury tomoralists and painters.