‘For what do you take me, sir? Only, of course the conscience must be enlightened,’ said Mr. Warren, as other earnest people usually do.
‘Certainly, certainly,’ said Merton; ‘nothing so dangerous as the unenlightened conscience. Why, in this very matter of marriage the conscience of the Mormons leads them to singular aberrations, while that of the Arunta tribe—but I should only pain you if I pursued the subject. You said that your Society indulged in literary lectures: is your programme for the season filled up?’
‘I am President of the Bulcester Literary Society,’ said Mr. Warren, ‘and I ought to know. We have a vacancy for Friday week; but why do you inquire? In fact I want a lecturer on “The Use and Abuse of Novels,” now you ask. Our people, somehow, always want their literary lectures to be about novels. I try to make the lecturers take a lofty moral tone, and usually entertain them at my house, where I probe their ideas, and warn them that we must have nothing loose. Once, sir, we had a lecturer on “The Oldest Novel in the World.” He gave us a terrible shock, sir! I never saw so many red cheeks in a Bulcester audience. And the man seemed quite unaware of the effect he was producing.’
‘Short-sighted, perhaps?’ said Merton.
‘Ever since we have been very careful. But, sir, we seem to have got away from the subject.’
‘It is only seeming,’ said Merton. ‘I have an idea which may be of service to you.’
‘Thank you, most kindly,’ said Mr. Warren. ‘But as how?’
‘Does your Society ever employ lady lecturers?’
‘We prefer them; we are all for enlarging the sphere of woman’s activity—virtuous activity, I mean.’
‘That is fortunate,’ remarked Merton. ‘You said just now that to try the plan of a counter-attraction was difficult, because there was little of social relaxation in your Society, and you knew no lady who had the opportunities necessary for presenting an agreeable alternative to the charms of Miss Truman. A young man’s fancy is often caught merely by the juxtaposition of a single member of the opposite sex, with whom he contracts a custom of walking home from chapel.’