Wieland; or, The Transformation | Page 6

such was the injunction of his duty. The
belief, after every new conflict with his passions, acquired new strength;
and, at length, he formed a resolution of complying with what he
deemed the will of heaven.
The North-American Indians naturally presented themselves as the first
objects for this species of benevolence. As soon as his servitude
expired, he converted his little fortune into money, and embarked for
Philadelphia. Here his fears were revived, and a nearer survey of
savage manners once more shook his resolution. For a while he
relinquished his purpose, and purchasing a farm on Schuylkill, within a
few miles of the city, set himself down to the cultivation of it. The
cheapness of land, and the service of African slaves, which were then
in general use, gave him who was poor in Europe all the advantages of
wealth. He passed fourteen years in a thrifty and laborious manner. In
this time new objects, new employments, and new associates appeared
to have nearly obliterated the devout impressions of his youth. He now
became acquainted with a woman of a meek and quiet disposition, and
of slender acquirements like himself. He proffered his hand and was
accepted.
His previous industry had now enabled him to dispense with personal
labour, and direct attention to his own concerns. He enjoyed leisure,
and was visited afresh by devotional contemplation. The reading of the
scriptures, and other religious books, became once more his favorite
employment. His ancient belief relative to the conversion of the savage
tribes, was revived with uncommon energy. To the former obstacles
were now added the pleadings of parental and conjugal love. The
struggle was long and vehement; but his sense of duty would not be
stifled or enfeebled, and finally triumphed over every impediment.
His efforts were attended with no permanent success. His exhortations
had sometimes a temporary power, but more frequently were repelled

with insult and derision. In pursuit of this object he encountered the
most imminent perils, and underwent incredible fatigues, hunger,
sickness, and solitude. The licence of savage passion, and the artifices
of his depraved countrymen, all opposed themselves to his progress.
His courage did not forsake him till there appeared no reasonable
ground to hope for success. He desisted not till his heart was relieved
from the supposed obligation to persevere. With his constitution
somewhat decayed, he at length returned to his family. An interval of
tranquillity succeeded. He was frugal, regular, and strict in the
performance of domestic duties. He allied himself with no sect, because
he perfectly agreed with none. Social worship is that by which they are
all distinguished; but this article found no place in his creed. He rigidly
interpreted that precept which enjoins us, when we worship, to retire
into solitude, and shut out every species of society. According to him
devotion was not only a silent office, but must be performed alone. An
hour at noon, and an hour at midnight were thus appropriated.
At the distance of three hundred yards from his house, on the top of a
rock whose sides were steep, rugged, and encumbered with dwarf
cedars and stony asperities, he built what to a common eye would have
seemed a summer-house. The eastern verge of this precipice was sixty
feet above the river which flowed at its foot. The view before it
consisted of a transparent current, fluctuating and rippling in a rocky
channel, and bounded by a rising scene of cornfields and orchards. The
edifice was slight and airy. It was no more than a circular area, twelve
feet in diameter, whose flooring was the rock, cleared of moss and
shrubs, and exactly levelled, edged by twelve Tuscan columns, and
covered by an undulating dome. My father furnished the dimensions
and outlines, but allowed the artist whom he employed to complete the
structure on his own plan. It was without seat, table, or ornament of any
kind.
This was the temple of his Deity. Twice in twenty-four hours he
repaired hither, unaccompanied by any human being. Nothing but
physical inability to move was allowed to obstruct or postpone this visit.
He did not exact from his family compliance with his example. Few
men, equally sincere in their faith, were as sparing in their censures and

restrictions, with respect to the conduct of others, as my father. The
character of my mother was no less devout; but her education had
habituated her to a different mode of worship. The loneliness of their
dwelling prevented her from joining any established congregation; but
she was punctual in the offices of prayer, and in the performance of
hymns to her Saviour, after the manner of the disciples of Zinzendorf.
My father refused to interfere in her arrangements. His own system was
embraced not, accurately speaking, because it was the best,