―412―For the Literary Magzine.
memoirs of carwin the bi-
loquist.
Time tended, in no degree, to
alleviate my dissatisfaction. It in-
creased till the determination be-
came at length formed of opening
my thoughts to Ludloe. At the next
breakfast interview which took
place, I introduced the subject, and
expatiated without reserve, on the
state of my feelings, I concluded
with intreating him to point out some
path in which my talents might be
rendered useful to himself or to
mankind.
After a pause of some minutes,
he said,' What would you do? You
forget the immaturity of your age.
If you are qualified to act a part in
the theatre of life, step forth; but
you are not qualified. You want
knowledge, and with this you ought
previously to endow yourself…..
Means, for this end, are within your
reach. Why should you waste your
time in idleness, and torment your-
self with unprofitable wishes? Books
are at hand….books from which
most sciences and languages can be
learned. Read, analise, digest;
collect facts, and investigate theo-
―413―
ries: ascertain the dictates of rea-
son, and supply yourself with the
inclination and the power to adhere
to them. You will not, legally speak-
ing, be a man in less than three
years. Let this period be devoted
to the acquisition of wisdom. Either
stay here, or retire to an house I
have on the banks of Killarney,
where you will find all the conve-
niences of study.
I could not but reflect with won-
der at this man's treatment of me.
I could plead none of the rights of
relationship; yet I enjoyed the pri-
vileges of a son. He had not im-
parted to me any scheme, by pur-
suit of which I might finally com-
pensate him for the expense to
which my maintainance and educa-
tion would subject him. He gave
me reason to hope for the continu-
ance of his bounty. He talked and
acted as if my fortune were totally
disjoined from his; yet was I indebt-
ed to him for the morsel which sus-
tained my life. Now it was pro-
posed to withdraw myself to studious
leisure, and romantic solitude. All
my wants, personal and intellectual,
were to be supplied gratuitously and
copiously. No means were pre-
scribed by which I might make com-
pensation for all these benefits. In
conferring them he seemed to be
actuated by no view to his own ulti-
mate advantage. He took no mea-
sures to secure my future services.
I suffered these thoughts to escape
me, on this occasion, and observed
that to make my application success-
ful, or useful, it was necessary to
pursue some end. I must look for-
ward to some post which I might
hereafter occupy beneficially to
myself or others; and for which
all the efforts of my mind should be
bent to qualify myself.
These hints gave him visible plea-
sure; and now, for the first time,
he deigned to advise me on this
head. His scheme, however, was
not suddenly produced. The way
to it was circuitous and long. It
was his business to make every new
step appear to be suggested by my
own reflections. His own ideas
were the seeming result of the mo-
ment, and sprung out of the last idea
that was uttered. Being hastily
taken up, they were, of course, liable
to objection. These objections,
sometimes occurring to me and
sometimes to him; were admitted
or contested with the utmost can-
dour. One scheme went through
numerous modifications before it
was proved to be ineligible, or be-
fore it yielded place to a better. It
was easy to perceive, that books
alone were insufficient to impart
knowledge: that man must be exa-
mined with our own eyes to make
us acquainted with their nature:
that ideas collected from observa-
tion and reading, must correct and
illustrate each other: that the value
of all principles, and their truth, lie
in their practical effects. Hence,
gradually arose, the usefulness of
travelling, of inspecting the habits
and manners of a nation, and inves-
tigating, on the spot, the causes of
their happiness and misery. Finally,
it was determined that Spain was
more suitable than any other, to the
views of a judicious traveller.
My language, habits, and reli-
gion were mentioned as obstacles
to close and extensive views;
but these difficulties successive-
ly and slowly vanished. Con-
verse with books, and natives of
Spain, a steadfast purpose and un-
wearied diligence would efface all
differences between me and a Casti-
lian with respect to speech. Per-
sonal habits, were changeable, by
the same means. The bars to un-
bounded intercouse, rising from the
religion of Spain being irreconcila-
bly opposite to mine, cost us no little
trouble to surmount, and here the
skill of Ludloe was eminently dis-
played.
I had been accustomed to regard
as unquestionable, the fallacy of the
Romish faith. This persuasion was
habitual and the child of prejudice,
and was easily shaken by the arti-
fices of this logician. I was first
led to bestow a kind of assent on the
doctrines of the Roman church;
but my convictions were easily sub-
―414―
dued by a new species of argumen-
tation, and, in a short time, I re-
verted to my ancient disbelief, so
that, if an exterior conformity to the
rights of Spain were requisite to the
attainment of my purpose, that con-
formity must be dissembled.
My moral principles had hitherto
been vague and unsettled. My cir-
cumstances had led me to the fre-
quent practice of insincerity; but
my transgressions as they were
slight and transient, did not much
excite my previous reflections, or
subsequent remorse My devia-
tions, however, though rendered
easy by habit, were by no means
sanctioned by my principles. Now
an imposture, more profound and
deliberate, was projected; and I
could not hope to perform well my
part, unless steadfastly and tho-
roughly persuaded of its rectitude.
My friend was the eulogist of
sincerity. He delighted to trace
its influence on the happiness of
mankind; and proved that nothing
but the universal practice of this
virtue was necessary to the pecfec-
tion of human society. His doctrine
was splendid and beautiful. To detect
its imperfections was no easy task;
to lay the foundations of virtue in
utility, and to limit, by that scale,
the operation of general principles;
to see that the value of sincerity,
like that of every other mode of
action, consisted in its tendency to
good, and that, therefore the obliga-
tion to speak truth was not para-
mount or intrinsical: that my duty
is modelled on a knowledge and
foresight of the conduct of others;
and that, since men in their actual
state, are infirm and deceitful, a just
estimate of consequences may some-
times make dissimulation my duty
were truths that did not speedily
occur. The discovery, when made,
appeared to be a joint work. I saw
nothing in Ludlow but proofs of
candour, and a judgment incapable
of bias.
The means which this man em-
ployed, to fit me for his purpose,
perhaps owed their success to my
youth and ignorance. I may have
given you exaggerated ideas of his
dexterity and address. Of that I
am unable to judge. Certain it is,
that no time or reflection has abated
my astonishment at the profound-
ness of his schemes, and the perse-
verence with which they were pur-
sued by him. To detail their pro-
gress would expose me to the risk
of being tedious, yet none but minute
details would sufficiently display his
patience and subtlety.
It will suffice to relate, that after
a sufficient period of preparation
and arrangements being made for
maintaining a copious intercourse
with Ludlow, I embarked for Bar-
celona. A restless curiosity and
vigorous application have distin-
guished my character in every
scene. Here was spacious field for
the exercise of all my energies. I
sought out a preceptor in my new
religion. I entered into the hearts
of priests and confessors, the hidalgo
and the peasant, the monk and the
prelate, the austere and voluptuous
devotee were scrutinized in all their
forms.
Man was the chief subject of my
study, and the social sphere that in
which I principally moved; but I
was not inattentive to inanimate na-
ture, nor unmindful of the past. If
the scope of virtue were to maintain
the body in health, and to furnish
its highest enjoyments to every
sense, to increase the number, and
accuracy, and order of our intellec-
tual stores, no virtue was ever
more unblemished than mine. If to
act upon our conceptions of right,
and to acquit ourselves of all preju-
dice and selfishness in the formation
of our principles, entitle us to the
testimony of a good conscience, I
might justly claim it.
I shall not pretend to ascertain
my rank in the moral scale. Your
notions of duty differ widely from
mine. If a system of deceit, pursued
merely from the love of truth; if
voluptuousness, never gratified at
the expense of health, may incur
censure, I am censurable. This,
indeed, was not the limit of my
deviations. Deception was often
―415―
unnccessarily practised, and my bi-
loquial faculty did not lie unemploy-
ed. What his happened to your-
selves may enable you, in some
degree, to judge of the scenes in
which my mystical exploits engaged
me. In none of them, indeed, were
the effects equally disastrous, and
they were, for the most part, the
result of well digested projects.
To recount these would be an
endless task. They were designed
as mere specimens of power, to
illustrate the influence of supersti-
tion: to give sceptics the consolation
of certainty: to annihilate the scru-
ples of a tender female, or facilitate
my access to the bosoms of courtiers
and monks.
The first achievement of this
kind took place in the convent of the
Escurial. For some time the hos-
pitality of this brotherhood allowed
me a cell in that magnificent and
gloomy fabric. I was drawn hither
chiefly by the treasures of Arabian
literature, which are preserved here
in the keeping of a learned Maronite,
from Lebanon. Standing one evening
on the steps of the great altar, this de-
vout friar expatiated on the miracu-
lous evidences of his religion; and, in
a moment of enthusiasm, appealed to
San Lorenzo, whose martyrdom was
displayed before us. No sooner was
the appeal made than the saint, ob-
sequious to the summons, whispered
his responses from the shrine, and
commanded the heretic to tremble
and believe. This event was re-
ported to the convent. With what-
ever reluctance, I could not refuse
my testimony to its truth, and its
influence on my faith was clearly
shown in my subsequent conduct.
A lady of rank, in Seville, who
had been guilty of many unautho-
rized indulgences, was, at last,
awakened to remorse, by a voice
from Heaven, which she imagined
had commanded her to expiate
her sins by an abstinence from all
food for thirty days. Her friends
found it impossible to out root this
persuasion, or to overcome her re-
solution even by force. I chanced
to be one in a numerous company
where she was present. This fatal
illusion was mentioned, and an op-
portunity afforded to the lady of
defending her scheme. At a pause
in the discourse, a voice was heard
from the ceiling, which confirmed
the truth of her tale; but, at the
same time revoked the command,
and, in consideration of her faith,
pronounced her absolution. Satis-
fied with this proof, the auditors
dismissed their unbelief, and the
lady consented to eat.
In the course of a copious corres-
pondence with Ludlow, the observa-
tions I had collected were given.
A sentiment, which I can hardly
describe, induced me to be silent on
all adventures connected with my
bivocal projects. On other topics,
I wrote fully, and without restraint.
I painted, in vivid hues, the scenes
with which I was daily conversant,
and pursued, fearlessly, every spe-
culation on religion and government
that occurred. This spirit was en-
couraged by Ludlow, who failed not
to comment on my narrative, and
multiply deductions from my prin-
ciples.
He taught me to ascribe the evils
that infest society to the errors of
opinion. The absurd and unequal
distribution of power and property
gave birth to poverty and riches, and
these were the sources of luxury
and crimes. These positions were
readily admitted; but the remedy for
these ills, the means of rectifying
these errors were not easily disco-
vered. We have been inclined to
impute them to inherent defects in
the moral constitution of men: that
oppression and tyranny grow up by
a sort of natural necessity, and that
they will perish only when the human
species is extinct. Ludloe laboured
to prove that this was, by no means,
the case: that man is the creature
of circumstances: that he is capa-
ble of endless improvement: that
his progress has been stopped by
the artificial impediment of govern-
ment: that by the removal of this,
the fondest dreams of imagination
will be realized.
From detailing and accounting for
the evils which exist under our pre-
sent institutions, he usually proceed-
―416―
ed to delineate some scheme of
Utopian felicity, where the empire
of reason should supplant that of
force: where justice should be uni-
versally understood and practised;
where the interest of the whole and
of the individual should be seen by
all to be the same; where the pub-
lic good should he the scope of all
activity; where the tasks of all
should be the same, and the means
of subsistence equally distributed.
No one could contemplate his pic-
tures without rapture. By their
comprehensiveness and amplitude
they filled the imagination. I was
unwilling to believe that in no region
of the world, or at no period could
these ideas be realized. It was plain
that the nations of Europe were
tending to greater depravity, and
would be the prey of perpetual vi-
cisisitude, All individual attempts at
their reformation would be fruitless.
He therefore who desired the dif-
fusion of right principles, to make a
just system be adopted by a whole
community, must pursue some ex-
traordinary method.
In this state of mind I recollected
my native country, where a few
colonists from Britain had sown the
germe of populous and mighty em-
pires. Attended, as they were, into
their new abode, by all their preju-
dices, yet such had been the in-
fluence of new circumstances, of
consulting for their own happiness,
of adopting simple forms of govern-
ment, and excluding nobles and
kings from their system, that they
enjoyed a degree of happiness far
superior, to their parent state.
To conquer the prejudices and
change the habits of millions, are
impossible. The human mind, ex-
posed to social influences, inflexibly
adheres to the direction that is given
to it; but for the same reason why
men, who begin in error will conti-
nue, those who commence in truth,
may be expected to persist. Habit
find example will operate with equal
force in both instances.
Let a few, sufficiently enlightened
and disinterested, take up their
abode in some unvisited region. Let
their social scheme be founded in
equity, and how small soever their
original number may be, their
growth into a nation is inevitable.
Among other effects of national jus-
tice, was to be ranked the swift in-
crease of numbers. Exempt from
servile obligations and perverse
habits, endowed with property, wis-
dom, and health, hundreds will ex-
pand, with inconceivable rapidity
into thousands and thousands, into
millions; and a new race, tutored
in truth, may, in a few centuries,
overflow the habitable world.
Such were the visions of youth!
I could not banish them from my
mind. I knew them to be crude;
but believed that deliberation would
bestow upon them solidity and shape.
Meanwhile I imparted them to
Ludloe.
(To be continued.)