FRESH PERPLEXITIES.
Mrs. Denham was not one of the select party that met at Mr. Roscoe's, as she had accompanied her husband to Bath, where he was detained longer than he expected, having some important family matters to adjust with the executors of a deceased uncle. On the day after her return home, when sitting quietly by herself in her little back parlour, working away hard and fast with her knitting needles, Miss Denham came in, took a seat by her side, and thus began:—
"Do you know, mamma, that Miss Roscoe is become so religious, that she actually refused the Rev. Mr. Cole as a partner at cards, at Mr. Roscoe's party, and said so many hard things against card-playing, and brought forward so many arguments from some old Puritanical book, that he was at times quite disconcerted?"
"Yes, my dear, and it is enough to disconcert any good Christian to have religious subjects introduced at our convivial parties."
"O yes, mamma, exactly so. I think if we are religious on a Sunday, it is as much as ought to be expected. Our Maker can't expect more. Do you think he can, ma'?"
"Certainly not, my dear; if he did, we should have had two Sundays in the week, instead of one."
"Well, ma', I really wonder how it is that Miss Roscoe has become so religious all at once. What a pity. I suppose she must be very unhappy."
"Yes, my dear, that you may depend on. Her parents are nearly broken-hearted. Dear Mrs. Roscoe says that all their peace is gone; and they really dread the consequences. She has positively refused to attend our ball on Friday week."
"Is it possible? I wish I had known it, I would have reasoned the point with her. I will go and see her. I think I can persuade her, because I recollect putting aside an engagement one night last winter to go with her to see the Beggar's Opera."
"Ah! my dear, when this evangelical religion, as it is called, takes possession of a person's mind, it is no use to attempt to reason or try persuasion—reason has nothing to do with it."
"Then, mamma, it must be a very unreasonable thing."
"Exactly so, my dear, and I hope you will avoid its snares."
"Dear mamma, I really wonder that you should consider it necessary to give such a hint; I assure you I have no prepossessions in its favour. Indeed, it is not my intention to trouble myself at all about religion yet; of course, I shall go to church along with you and papa, and take the sacrament once or twice a-year. That will do, won't it, ma'?"
"Yes, my dear, our Maker won't desire more from such a young person as yourself. But still it will be necessary to avoid all intercourse with those religious people who are known to be evangelical; for the Rev. Mr. Cole says he thinks that there is something of a bewitching nature in it, as it is known sometimes to overcome those who have the greatest antipathies against it."
"Why, mamma, you quite alarm me. Then no one is safe. Is it possible for me ever to take to this evangelical religion? O, I would rather enter a nunnery at once, and take the veil for life."
"Yes, my dear, and I would rather you should; but still I deem it prudent to give you a hint to be on your guard; for I heard you, a short time since, drop some expressions, when speaking of Mrs. Stevens, which quite alarmed me."
"Indeed, mamma! I don't recollect it. I certainly think Mrs. Stevens a most amiable lady; and though she may have rather too much religion, yet she is very accomplished, and a most interesting companion."
"She is amiable and accomplished, but I think her a most dangerous companion."
"What! the amiable Mrs. Stevens a dangerous companion? Why, mamma, she is a truly virtuous and lovely woman."
"She is so, my dear, and that makes her so dangerous. She is always aiming at proselyting others to her religion, and such is the bewitching charm of her eloquence, and such the fascination of her manners, that she scarcely ever fails. Why, do you know, though I am ashamed to confess it, she nearly got me over to her religion when I was with her by myself one evening last winter."
"Dear ma', you quite surprise me. You nearly made an Evangelical! Did you ever tell pa' about it, and what did he say?"
"O, no, my dear, I never mentioned it before to any one; and I should not like to have it repeated."
"I may just mention it to Mr. Ryder, as a curiosity in the economy of life."
"No, no, I beg you won't; it will make me so much talked about, and it will induce her to make another effort. But, as I was saying, you really must be on your guard. You have not my fortitude and self-possession. She is a most beguiling woman, and has so much tact. She easily accommodates herself to the taste of her visitors, she bribes the poor by her benevolence, fascinates the young by her pleasantry, and entangles the thoughtless by her arguments. No one is safe who associates with her."
"But, mamma, I do not think she would proselyte me, for I have no predilection for religion. It is too gloomy a subject to suit my taste. Indeed, I do not understand it; though every now and then I am tempted to wish I did; I have at times such strange thoughts and feelings."
"Of course, you know, my dear, it is a duty you owe the Almighty to resist an evil temptation."
"Exactly so; but is it not odd that I should ever be tempted to a thing for which I have no predilection, and which I don't understand? But, ma', I am under an engagement to take tea with Mrs. Stevens and Miss Roscoe next week—what shall I do?"
"Decline, of course, my dear."
"But the time is fixed."
"You can send a note, and plead indisposition as an apology for absence."
"But would that be honourable, if I should not be indisposed?"
"You know it is fashionable."
"Yes, mamma, but I have long felt a great dislike against the fashionable habit of sacrificing truth to expedience. I cannot do it. I have no strong desire to become religious, but I wish to be virtuous; and I think an inviolable regard to truth the very foundation of virtue."
"Very true, my dear; I am pleased with your remark, it discovers a virtuous mind; but you must not be too scrupulous. You will find it impossible always to avoid the customs of fashionable life; for though some of them are open to the censures of the strict moralist, yet they have been too long established to be changed."
"But, mamma, I should think it wrong to comply with any custom which pure morality condemns. When I was at Mr. Travers's, the housemaid, who had been in the family seven years, and who was greatly respected, was called up into the parlour and discharged at a moment's warning. She wished to know the cause. Mrs. Travers said to her, 'I have detected you in so many falsehoods, that I cannot believe a word you say.' She took up her wages, and said, 'Who taught me to speak untruth? When I came into your service, I came uncorrupted; I abhorred a lie, but did you not compel me to the habit? Was I not forced to say, when you were unwilling to see company, that you were ill, or from home; and if mistresses teach servants to lie, ought they to be discharged when detected?'"
"How insolent! Did not Mr. Travers force her out of the house?"
"Yes, mamma, he resented the insult; but after she was gone, he said, 'I hope the truth will always be spoken in future; for if we compel our servants to falsify for our convenience, we ought not to be astonished if they do so for their own.'"
"Well, my dear, with your high notions of virtue, I do not see how you can excuse yourself from Mrs. Stevens's; but let me entreat you to be on your guard, for we live, as the apostle says, in perilous times. I would rather follow you to the grave than see you infected with a religious contagion; and I am sure your papa would disown you."
"Dear mamma, I wonder that you should harbour any suspicions. It is not my intention to become religious yet. Indeed, if I were, my religion must tolerate all the fashionable gaieties. You know I am fond of cards and concerts, of balls and plays; and as for the Bible, I assure you that I have not read it since I left school. It is too grave to suit my taste, and so mystical that I cannot understand it. Indeed, I have my doubts about it; particularly since our acquaintance with the Ryders. Mr. John is quite a sceptic; he is very clever, and his arguments are so powerful!"
"I have no wish that you should become a sceptic, my dear; it would make you so much talked about."
"Exactly so, mamma; I know it is not fashionable for ladies to become sceptics, but Miss Sims affects to be one, and really boasts of it, which sadly mortifies her sister Amelia. However, I have made up my mind to keep to the good old religion of our church; though Mr. John Ryder said the other evening, in a large party, he expected to make a convert of me."
"I admire your firmness. Yes, keep to the church, and you will be sure to go to heaven when your Maker takes you out of this world!"
"You think I shall, ma'."
"To be sure, my dear. Our Maker could not object to take such a dear lovely girl as you are to heaven, to live amongst the happy innocents there."
"That's a beautiful thought. Sceptics don't expect to go to heaven, do they, mamma?"
"No, my dear."
"Where will they go?"
"I don't know, and I don't think they know themselves. I once heard your papa say, they expect death will snuff them out of existence as we snuff out the flame of a candle."
"Do they really believe this? What a sad pity—snuffed out of existence. I shall never forget the expression. I'll repeat it to Mr. John Ryder the next time he calls; I wonder what he will say?"
"He will only laugh at it."
"Laugh at being snuffed out of existence! No, mamma, I will never become a sceptic, to be snuffed out of existence. I would rather turn an evangelical, for they, when death comes, are in ecstasy, in anticipation of eternal life and happiness in another and better world."
"What a loud ring, I wonder, ma', who it can be; but it does not matter, we are dressed to receive company." The servant entered with the cards of Miss Dorothy Brownjohn, and her sister Susan, who, of course, had been ushered into the drawing-room.
"I am so glad to see you; do be seated, ladies. Well, this is a pleasure I did not expect when I rose this morning, though I said last night, when looking at the coal leaf waving on the bar of our parlour grate, that we should have company to-day. We should have made a call on you, as we missed you at the sacrament last Sunday week, only I have been to Bath with Mr. Denham. We were all prodigiously affected, as we thought you were ill."
"Oh no," said Miss Susan, "we haven't been exactly ill, but it was all hurry and bustle with us that week, and I could not get through my preparation reading and prayers, to fit me for the sacrament."
"I think my sister," said Miss Dorothy, "is too scrupulous, and I tell her, that if she can't get done all the preparation reading and prayers, the Almighty will overlook it, and so would Mr. Cole."
"Oh dear, yes, to be sure he would. Why, I had not time that week to read a single extra prayer; we had company in the house every day and night."
"The principal purpose of our calling on you this morning, dear Mrs. Denham, is to ask you if you know any one who would suit us in the capacity of a cook."
"What, are you going to part with the old cook who has been with you so many years?"
"Oh dear, yes," said Miss Susan, "and I wish we had got rid of her at the beginning. Since she has got infected with the rector's new religion, she has not been the same woman she once was."
"Yes, there is an obvious difference," said Miss Dorothy, "in her spirit, and appearance, and manners, which I cannot account for."
"Does she neglect her duties?"
"Oh no," said Miss Susan, "she does not neglect her work; if she did I should soon be after her. She used to sing a good song, and be as merry as a cricket; but no singing now, except some odd psalm; and she never appears happy but when going to church, or reading her Bible; and she is trying to get over the rest of the servants to her religion."
"Have you given her notice to leave?"
"Oh no, not exactly. I'll tell you, dear Mrs. Denham, how it was. I heard a whisper amongst the rest of the servants that the cook got up before them in the morning, and sat up after them at night; and I was determined to find it out, and the reason of it, for it did not look well; now, did it? So one night, when all the rest were gone to bed, I went down stairs very softly, and looked through the keyhole, and saw her reading her Bible; and I made up an excuse for going in; and I said to her, 'I think, cook, sleep would do you more good at this hour than that book, sitting up wasting fire and candle;' and she gave me such an insolent reply, that she ruffled my temper very much. She said, 'If I thought so, Ma'am, I should be in bed, but I like a little reading out of God's book before I go to rest; and if I do my work to your satisfaction, as I hope I do, I think you have no cause for complaint.' And the next morning she actually gave notice to leave."
"And I am sorry to say," added Miss Dorothy, "that just before we left home, the housemaid gave me notice."
"Why, sister, you did not tell me that. This is all our rector's doings. We were living as peaceably as a nestling of birds, till he began to preach the new doctrines of the new birth, and faith, and salvation by grace. I am sometimes tempted to wish myself in heaven, out of the way of these domestic miseries."
"Mr. Cole, in his sermon on Sunday morning, said that this evangelical religion is a spiritual epidemic; it spreads by the power of sympathy, and affects all alike. It is a prodigious evil."
"That's true; we will have no more of it in our family," said Miss Dorothy, "for our next servants shall engage not to go and hear our rector, and I will substitute the prayer-book for the Bible, for the servants to read."
"Very proper," said Mrs. Denham, "that venerable book will do them no harm."
"They may read that," said Miss Susan, "and welcome. It will never make them miserable, nor keep them up late at night."
"Then, ladies, you are in want of two servants?"
"Yes," said Miss Susan, "and two who like to read the prayer-book better than the Bible, and won't go to hear any of the evangelicals."
"Shall we see you at church next Sunday; Mr. Cole is going to preach a charity sermon for our Sunday-school."
"What, have you a Sunday-school?"
"Yes, Mr. Cole felt compelled to set up one in self-defence, for he found the children all going off to a school kept by some of the evangelicals, and their parents followed them. We haven't many."
"For a Sunday-school," said Miss Dorothy, "in self-defence, there is some excuse, otherwise I would not give it my sanction; I hope you are very careful what you teach the children, otherwise you will lift them up with pride, and they will not work as servants ought to do."
"Mr. Cole won't have anything taught in the school but the Church catechism."
"They may learn that," said Miss Susan, "and welcome; it won't do them any harm. Yes, you may expect us on Sunday, and perhaps then, Mrs. Denham, you may be able to tell us if you can help us to any servant who will comply with our terms—read the prayer-book, and not go near any of the evangelicals."