Memoirs of Carwin the Biloquist (A Fragment)

deeply considered in what way he might essentially promote my happiness. He had entertained a faint hope that I would one day be qualified for a station like that to which he himself

; many arduous accomplishments be first obtained; and my virtue be subjected to severe trials. At present it was not in his power to be more explicit; but if my reflections suggested no better plan, he advised me to settle my affairs in Spain, and return to

his scheme, whatever it was, seemed to be suggested by my mention of a plan of colonization, and my preference of that mode of producing extensive and permane

ble to believe, surpassed in extent, and perhaps in populousness, those with which we were familiar. The order of Jesuits had furnished an example of all the errors and excellencies of su

those fragments of Roman and Gothic barbarism, which cover the face of what are called the civilized nations. The belief now rose in my mind that some such scheme had actually been prosecuted, and that Ludloe was a coadjutor. On this supposition, the caution with which he approached to his point, the arduous probation which a candidate for a part on this st

portment were the same. I entered once more on my former mode of life, but our intercourse became more frequ

. His reserve excited some surprise, and I began to suspect that whatever design he had formed with regard to me, had been laid aside. To ascertain this question

h above vulgar heads, and was to be gained by years of solicitude and labour. This, at least, was true with regard to minds ordinarily constituted; I, perhaps

aight forward: he shall advance, but at every step his belief shall fade; habit will

. Deep enquiries must bestow light on your opinions, and the habit of encountering and vanquishing temptation must inspire you with fortitude. Till this b

rity. Be always vigilant and fearful. Never think you have enough of knowledge, a

son should prescribe. What, I asked, were the conditions, on the fulfilment of which depended my advancemen

tion than I had ever before witnessed. After a pause

ok around with caution, and that consequences should be fully known. A number of persons are leagued together for an end of some mome

ous disclosure is yet made: but this degree of concealment is not sufficient. Thus much is made known to you, because it is unavoidable. The individuals which compose this fraternity are not immortal, and the vacancies occasioned by death must be supplied from among the living. The candidate must be instructed and prepared, and they are always at liberty to rec

the only consequence: to prevent the further revelation, he, to whom the secret was imparted, must likewise perish. He must not console himself with the belief that his trespass will be unknown. The know

ot even a doubt as to the propriety of hiding it from all the world. There are eyes who will disc

to lay yourself under impracticable obligations. It will always be in your power to recede. Even after you are solemnly enrolled a member, you may c

n. Death is to be abhorred, but the life of the betrayer is productive of more evil than

otherhood, must pry. Believe me, who have made the experiment, that compared with this task, the task of inviolable secrecy, all others are easy. To be dumb will not suffice; never to know any remission in your zeal or your wa

darkness and storm; then will you be exalted to a pure and unruffled element. It is only for a time that temptation will environ you, and your path will be toilsom

own motives and opinions, and prepare to submit t

it, but he assiduously repelled all my attempts, and insisted on my bestowing deep and impartial attention on what had already b

ughts. In reviewing the sentiments and deportment of Ludloe, my belief continually acquired new strength. I even recollected hints and ambiguous allusi

Europe and this imaginary colony. But what was to be done? I was willing to abide by these conditions. My understanding might not approve of all the ends proposed by this

ousness of the office to which I aspired, the temptations to violate my duty with which I should be continually beset, the inevitable death with which the slightest br

with making these confessions with regard to my past life, to Ludloe, and must continue to communicate, at stated seasons, every new thought, and every new occurrence, to him. This confidence was to be absolutely limitless: no exceptions were to be admitted, and no reserves to be practised; and the same penalty attended the infraction of this rule as of the former. Means would be employed, by which the slightest deviation, in either case, would be detected, and the deathful consequence would follow with instant and inevitabl

ousness was the source of continual anxiety. I had exerted, on numerous occasions, my bivocal faculty, but, in my intercourse with Ludloe, had suffered not the slightest intimation to escape me with regard to it. This reserve was not easily explained. It was, in a great degree

njustifiable, and to excite his indignation or contempt was an unpleasing undertaking. Now, if I should resolve to persist in my new path, this reserve must be dismissed: I must make him master of a secre

greater. My confessions might, in other respects, be unbounded, but my reserves, in this particular, might be cont

uspicion, since the agent could be known only by his own confession, and even this conf

us expedient to free myself from the suspicion of having entered into compact with a daemon, or of being myself an emissary of the grand foe.

yself in this respect entirely with a view to immediate consequences. If my genuine interest, on the whole, was promoted by veraci

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