"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."