# Duty and Inclination/Chapter 49

CHAPTER VI.
"The soul grows clotted by contagion,
Imbodies and imbrutes, till she quite lose
The divine property of her first being."
Milton.
Melliphant had been for some time in the habit of administering to the intellectual pleasures of Rosilia, by supplying her with various books; and, as these were generally such as are esteemed for taste, elegant sentiment, and classic diction, she had received much pleasure in their perusal.
But when, no longer confining himself to these, Meliphant offered to her works addressed to the imagination merely, such as she was well persuaded, from the remarks she had gathered from those whose superior judgment she had deemed indisputable, whilst they pleased the fancy, could not convey the least moral instruction whatever, possessing rather a tendency to increase and enervate the natural sensibilities of the heart; she hesitated not to refuse them with so decided a negative, as mortified and confounded Melliphant.
"The Sorrows of Werter presents a master-piece in that species of literature," exclaimed he. "I ​thought, Miss De Brooke, by recommending it, as a pastime for your leisure hours, it would have afforded an agreeable variation to the usual course of your readings; I might be mistaken. I was impressed also with the desire of hearing your opinion respecting the work in general, but more particularly in reference to the character of Werter. Too true, for suffering humanity, are there painted feelings bearing a perfect imitation of nature. I would fain suppose otherwise, and that the sentiment consuming Werter was described in language of too deep colouring! Still, though I cannot doubt, from" experience, he meant to say, but his voice faltered; he still hesitated, and with apparent fear of having said too much, changed at once the subject.
"But whilst," continued he, "we sympathize with and pity Werter, we must, at the same time, bring ourselves to abjure his errors, his want of true courage, and that noble resistance of mind, which teaches us to endure misery and to submit to life, even though sinking under the pressure of the most overwhelming calamity."
The emphatic delivery of these last words was accompanied by a sigh the most profound, whilst he turned aside, as if to conceal the strong emotion which shook him.
A silence ensued, which, as Rosilia did not interrupt, he hoped he had, together with an allusion to his own case, said almost sufficient to controvert her former disinclination to read Werter; he, therefore, ​again ventured, in the most persuasive terms, to express a wish that she would do so. Again, however, she declined, stating as a reason, that she had read some of the best novels, and did not wish to extend her knowledge of them.
That a pristine innocence was as a plant, of most delicate and fragile nature, and alike subject to wither and decay, was an impression that had been early imbibed and deeply engrafted on the mind of Rosilia. She, in consequence, felt an invincible dread of aught that could sully or in the least diminish the native purity of its lustre. The combating with her feelings, as indeed every action of Rosilia, proceeded from those high, sublime, and exalted ideas she entertained of virtue, entirely removed from all that was beneath the views and contemplations of a rational and immortal creature; to act up with firmness and decision to such divine precepts was ever the most devout and dearest wish of her heart.
The Sorrows of Werter, might or might not be an exception to that species of writing she had heard condemned; nevertheless, though she was endowed with a fancy replete in poetic imagery, she had no relish for works, that did not combine with taste, high moral instruction.
Melliphant sought to disguise the inward vexation he felt, and resolved not to be discouraged, trusting in some luckier moment he might overcome her scruples. Werter still remained his pocket companion.
​ We have said that Rosilia was in the habit of frequenting some pleasant gardens, at no great distance from her home. There she could range the winding walks, unseen of any; it was there she had always felt herself at liberty, free from intrusion. But even there that demon, seeking her destruction, found her! As an arch-fiend, full of guileful intent, unperceived he had traced her footsteps, and followed as she entered.
Why was it that in so large a city, abounding with innumerable delights of every kind, everything cloyed, all was insipid, and nothing pleased? How came it to pass that nothing possessed a charm that could, for one moment, abstract his attention from Rosilia; divert him from those cruel, persevering endeavours to tear from its parent stem that flower, at once displaying to the view, truth, innocence, and beauty? Animated alone by the perfidious love that led him to destroy the sole motive of his pursuit. And when gathered, what might its fragrance avail him? Alas! nought; robbed of its lustre, with inhuman barbarity to be cast adrift! For desolate and forsaken on the wide face of the earth is she whose mind has yielded to the attacks of sophistry in its systematic seduction. It is not the marriage tie, neither is it rank nor affluence that can wash away the stain, and restore lost virtue and innocence!
Could nothing induce Melliphant to desist from his infernal purpose? No! there is that in the human ​heart which, when unregulated, strengthens by opposition, and the greater the difficulties that accumulate, the greater is its ardour to overcome them.
Melliphant contrived to join Rosilia as if by accident, hastening round to a turning in one of the alleys just in time to present himself before her, well knowing that by such means she would be prevented from avoiding him. He held in his hand Werter—the leaves were open as if he had been newly reading it. The insinuations of Melliphant during their last interview, however slightly and delicately conveyed, had not escaped Rosilia, as bearing some allusion to the impression the nurse had previously endeavoured to make on her mind, when she said, "Well, miss, however you are now inclined to disbelieve my words, ere long you will find them verified."
Wishing to throw a check upon any further advance in Melliphant, yet struck with the idea that it might give a too great importance to his sentiments, did she manifest a desire to shun him, she bent her steps in a direction leading, by a circuit round the garden, to the door whence she purposed returning home. Melliphant walked by her side in silence.
"I have been amusing myself," said he at length, "with looking over Werter, for the purpose of examining strictly whether any of its parts produce aught in reality of a nature sufficiently censurable, to throw a general opprobrium upon the whole; instead of which, the more I examine, I find how infinitely the author has excelled in sentiment and ​description; it is really a beautiful production of human genius. How unfortunate I am not to have prevailed on you to read it."
The earnestness with which he spoke upon a subject which, as he would have her believe, no otherwise concerned him than merely to contribute to her amusement, created an involuntary smile, which he perceived playing upon her countenance, and mistook it for a sign of acquiescence; then seizing the occasion with a gentle, yet respectful familiarity, he sought to thrust the book into her hand. Swayed however by that decision which ever upheld her, never to vary from a point once taken and approved of by her reason and judgment, she again rejected the proffered work. Absolute pride and contradiction, thought he, looking downwards, abashed and confused; or can she suspect me of design!
To relieve the pain he seemed evidently labouring under, Rosilia addressed him.
"I do not wish, Mr. Melliphant," said she, "to indulge in a sickly sensibility for fictitious woes, life abounding with so many real ones; such works which give vigour and fortitude to the mind I should prefer, the lessons they teach us of rising superior to misfortune being always useful."
Trembling under the apprehension that she might have suspected his intentions, and that he might lose in her favourable and flattering estimation,—after, by a subtle device to rescue himself from her ill opinion, he recommended Homer's Iliad.
​ "I conceived you possessed a mind," added he, "so perfectly formed, so free from prejudice, that whilst you passed over the defective parts of Werter, you would have relished to an eminent degree the beauty, harmony, and exaltation of its sentiments."
He paused, and then in lower accents still more tremulous, denoting the increased pulsation of his frame, "If you were placed in a relative situation to me—forgive the expression I am about using—I would insist! yes, I would insist upon your reading it, in order to redeem myself in your opinion, and restore, I fear, my lost credit. I would not for worlds have recommended what I thought improper for you to read."
Melliphant, as he ventured to turn a glance towards Rosilia, perceived "she looked unutterable things"—an expression of countenance almost indefinable, even to so penetrating an observer. Interpreting them however to his advantage, in the successive changes of her looks he thought he perceived indications of compassion and forgiveness with a predominating fear of having given offence.
That the worthy and amiable Melliphant harboured a secret partiality for her, his recent words and manner might have fully betrayed; but not wishing to encourage his passion, it was her duty to check it; and even in so doing how embarrassing was her situation! how appear to understand what was not openly declared,—given but by insinuations only!
Wishing, however, to evade a continuation of the ​subject and to relieve the emotions of Melliphant, she said, "I will read the book at some future time: not that I have the least cause to fear it would be productive of any injurious consequences should I read it even at the present, my mind, as you would assure me," added she playfully, "being so perfectly strong; and I willingly flatter myself into the belief that it is so."
Every persuasion of Melliphant was accompanied with such humility of expression and of mien, that though nothing was more foreign from the intention of Rosilia than to throw any appearance of consent upon his attachment, yet wilfully to disoblige and distress him she could not, without in some degree sharing in the same feeling.
Conversing upon other topics they pursued their walk until Rosilia reached home; when Melliphant, inwardly delighted that he had partly avowed his sentiments without having apparently forfeited her confidence, respectfully bowed and left her.
Obliged as he felt himself to desist from any longer pressing Werter upon her attention, as soon as he entered his chamber he took it from his pocket and replaced it by the "Man of Feeling". Surely, thought he, the most fastidious critic cannot object to this! The utmost Platonic nicety could find nothing in it to reprehend! Why then, it may be asked, was he desirous for her to read it, his object being to awaken images to her fancy such as might imperceptibly sully the native purity of her heart? ​The answer is, that as every the least of his actions towards Rosilia involved design,—well aware that few could read that work without being deeply interested in the character of its hero, and of deeply sympathising in that over-reserve which led him to conceal so delicate and deep rooted an attachment.
That he also, like the Man of Feeling, nourished within him, the canker of his own destruction, a hopeless passion equally preying upon his vitals, and which might equally, as with Harley, terminate his existence. He had wished also to have insinuated that in Werter there were traits of character bearing no small resemblance to his own.
Trusting to be more successful in introducing the "Man of Feeling" to her notice, for three successive days it was carried about him, waiting to seize an occasion for presenting the volume. With the most placid demeanour Rosilia listened to the arguments advanced in its praise; her resolution being taken, she determined not to waver: she refused it as she former. It might be, as he said, unexceptionable; but she was careful how she permitted herself to accept any favour at his hands. She feared giving encouragement to him, particularly as she began to suspect his views in thus acting might arise from the hopes he entertained of exciting a return of sentiment: weighing the circumstance in accordance with her inward feelings, she readily acknowledged she ​might regard Melliphant as a friend, but as a lover never!
With the greatest circumspection therefore she became as industrious to shun every occasion that might lead him to a further declaration of attachment, as he, on the other hand, was in seeking for it.
He left her under the impression that she was invincible; he cursed her prudery, as he called it, and that invariable self-possession of virtue that enthroned her, so effectually shielding her from his designs; that barrier, which he had been so long aiming to remove. Were there no inlets by which he could enter, take her off her guard, and at once disarm her?
"Had she been less difficult to subdue," ejaculated he, in all the fury of disappointed hope, "my passion would have been less violent! 'Tis by this tormenting resistance to my every effort that she haunts me as she does, by night and by day."
General De Brooke being anxious to return to the peaceful scenes of Glamorgan, his return thither having been so frequently deferred, to give himself a foretaste of the pleasure he should experience when the spring months arrived, he resolved to accompany Dr. Lovesworth in an excursion he intended to his Hermitage. The Bower moreover required some new arrangements previous to the return of his family to that delightful spot.
Perhaps no event could have happened more ​opportunely to favour the proceedings of those whom the unsuspicious and all-confiding General admitted so freely to his house, and whom he believed were strenuously and warmly attached to his family interests. As to Sir Howard he had nearly dropped his visits, and when he came it was but to pass a few ceremonious compliments, and he was off again. It never occurring to the General or Mrs. De Brooke how much his pride and vanity had been wounded; they were inclined to suppose he felt piqued that his attentions to Rosilia had not met with a more favourable return. Having with pleasure beheld the effects of her attractions over his heart, seeing in him no very flagrant errors to condemn, they had flattered themselves with one day greeting her under the title of Lady Sinclair.
"Vainly in the belles of the present day," said Sir Howard once in confidential discourse with the General, "vainly may we look for such a mind; if I could make myself agreeable to your lovely and amiable daughter, and had a fortune of sixty thousand pounds I would lay it at her feet."
Conceiving this eulogy, so unequivocal and flattering to his child, was preparatory only to his more decided proposals, the General on his part unwilling to reject them, had given full encouragement to his visits; while to the designs of Melliphant, so deeply concerted and so gradual in their operation, he remained as well as Mrs. De Brooke effectually blinded.