The Barbadoes Girl Part 4

"I certainly should consider it my duty to punish her for her disobedience, by withholding my usual expressions of love and my general indulgences from her; but I should undoubtedly forgive her, because, in the first place, G.o.d has commanded me to forgive all trespa.s.ses, and in the second, my heart would be drawn naturally towards my own child."

"But surely, dear Mrs. Harewood, it is worse for an _own_ child to behave ill to a parent than any other person?"

"Undoubtedly, my dear, for it unites the crime of ingrat.i.tude to that of disobedience; besides, it is cruel and unnatural to be guilty of insolence and hard-heartedness towards the hand which has reared and fostered us all our lives--which has loved us in despite of our faults--watched over our infancy--instructed our childhood--nursed us in sickness, and prayed for us before we could pray for ourselves."

"My mamma has done all this for me a thousand times," cried Matilda, bursting into tears of bitter contrition, which, for some time, Mrs.

Harewood suffered to flow unrestrained; at length she checked herself, but it was only to vent her sorrow by self-accusation--"Oh, ma'am! you cannot think how very ill I have behaved to my dear, dear mother--I have been saucy to her, and bad to every body about me; many a time have I vexed her on purpose; and when she scolded me, I was so pert and disobedient--you can form no idea how bad I was. If she spoke ever so gently to me, I used to tell my papa she had been scolding me, and then he would blame her and justify me; and many a time I have heard deep sighs, that seemed to come from the very bottom of her heart, and the tears would stand in her sweet eyes as she looked at me. Oh, wicked, wicked child that I was, to grieve such a good mamma! and now we are parted such a long, long way, and I cannot beg her pardon--I cannot show her that I am trying to be good; perhaps she may die, as poor papa did, and I shall never, _never_ see her more."

The agonies of the repentant girl, as this afflictive thought came over her mind, arose to desperation; and Mrs. Harewood, who felt much for her, endeavoured to bestow some comfort upon her; but poor Matilda, who was ever violent, even in her better feelings, could not, for a long time, listen to the kind voice of her consoler--she could only repeat her own faults, recapitulate all the crimes she had been guilty of, and display, in all their native hideousness, such traits of ill-humour, petulance, ungovernable fury, outrageous pa.s.sion, and vile revenge, as are the natural offspring of the human heart, when its bad propensities are matured by indulgence, particularly in those warm countries, where the mind partakes the nature of the soil, and slavery in one race of beings gives power to all the bad pa.s.sions of another.

At length the storm of anguish so far gave way, that Mrs. Harewood was able to command her attention, and she seized this precious season of penitence and humility to imprint the leading truths of Christianity, and those plain and invaluable doctrines which are deducible from them, and evident to the capacity of any sensible child, without leading from the more immediate object of her anxiety; as Mrs. Harewood very justly concluded, that if she saw her error as a child, and could be brought to conquer her faults as such, it would include every virtue to be expected at her time of life, and would lay the foundation of all those which we estimate in the female character.

"Oh," cried Matilda, sobbing, "if I could kneel at her feet, if I could humble myself lower than the lowest negro to my dear mamma, and once hear her say she forgave me, I could be comforted; but I do not like to be comforted without this; I am angry at myself, and I ought to be angry."

"But, my dear little girl," replied Mrs. Harewood, "though you cannot thus humble yourself in your body, yet you are conscious that you are humbled in your mind, and that your penitence will render you guarded for the time to come; and let it be your consolation to know, though your mother is absent, the ears of your heavenly Father are ever open to your sorrows; and that, if you lament your sins to him, he will a.s.suredly accept your repentance, and dispose the heart of your dear mother to accept it also. I sincerely pity you, not as heretofore, for your folly, but for your sorrow; and in order to enable you to comprehend what I mean by repenting before G.o.d, I will compose you a short prayer, which will both express your feelings, and remind you of your duty towards yourself and your mother."

Matilda received this act of kindness from her good friend with real grat.i.tude; and when she had committed it to memory, and adopted it in addressing Almighty G.o.d, she found her spirits revive, with the hope that she should one day prove worthy of that kind parent, whom, when she lived with her, she was too apt to slight and disobey. As her judgment became more enlightened, she saw more clearly into the errors of her past education, and became perfectly aware that the love of her too-indulgent father had been productive of innumerable pains, as well as faults. She found herself much more happy now than she had ever been in her life; yet she had never so few indulgences--she had no slaves to wait on her, no little black children to execute her commands and submit to her temper; she was not coaxed to the dainties of a luxurious table, nor had costly clothes spread before her to court her choice, nor any foolish friend to repeat all she said, as if she were a prodigy of wit and talent; and all these things, she well remembered, were accorded to her as a kind of inheritance in Barbadoes; but, along with them, she remembered having violent pa.s.sions, in which she committed excesses, for which she afterwards felt keen remorse, because she saw how they wounded her mother, and shamed even her doting father--ill-humour and low spirits, that rendered every thing irksome to her, and many pains and fevers, from which she was now entirely free; and she found, in the conversation, books, and instructions of her young friends, amus.e.m.e.nt to which nothing she had enjoyed before would bear comparison; for what in life is so delightful as knowledge, except the sense of having performed some particular benefit to our fellow-creatures?

CHAPTER VII.

It will be readily supposed that, with the hopes now entertained of Matilda's conduct, Mrs. Harewood did not hesitate to provide the governess we have spoken of, and accordingly Miss Campbell was soon established in the family.

She found Matilda rapid in her ideas, persevering in her pursuits, but p.r.o.ne to resentment on every trifling occasion, and still subject to finding herself cause for repentance. On these occasions Miss Campbell conducted herself with composure and dignity, as if she considered a petulant child below the notice of a sensible woman: by this means the pride of the culprit was humbled; she was taught to retread her first steps, and perceive that she was an insignificant being, obliged to the suffrage of her friends, and only capable of being valuable in proportion to her docility and amiable conduct.

Mrs. Harewood had been accustomed to give her children the treat of a ball at Christmas; but on this year she put it off until midsummer, partly because she was afraid, in so large a party, and with such various dispositions, Matilda might not be able to conduct herself with perfect propriety during a whole evening, and partly because she wished her to learn to dance; for although this was, in her eyes, a very secondary accomplishment, when compared to solid knowledge, yet, as a healthful and innocent amus.e.m.e.nt, and called for in order to form the person in that station of life in which Matilda was likely to move, she desired to see her acquire at least as much of it as would preserve her from the appearance of awkwardness. It was an object of anxiety with this truly maternal friend to save her from all unnecessary mortification, at the same time she earnestly desired to see her tractable, humble, and gentle.

Time now pa.s.sed away pleasantly, for all were occupied, and therefore happy: the idle are subject to many errors, and therefore many sorrows, from which the busy are exempt.

The good governess studied the temper and disposition of her pupils, and drew them forth in the happiest manner; not by making exhibitions of their attainments to others, but by showing them what was necessary to themselves for their improvement. She considered the work of education as sowing good seed, which shall spring up with vigour in advancing life, in proportion to the depth of the soil and its preparation for receiving it.

Whilst Miss Campbell inculcated those branches of polite learning which give a grace to virtue, she was still more desirous of inculcating virtue itself, by grafting it on religious principle, and that "fear of G.o.d, which is the beginning of wisdom."

The children of Mrs. Harewood had been taught, from their earliest days, that prudence and charity must go hand in hand; but it remained for Miss Campbell to impress this salutary truth on the mind of Matilda, who was naturally very generous, but debased that feeling by ostentation, and ever sought to indulge it with a vain and hurtful profusion, until she became enlightened by her young preceptress, who likewise, in many other points, regulated those desires in her pupils which blend good and evil, and require a firm and delicate management. She was very solicitous to render them active, both personally and mentally, knowing that the health of both body and mind depends upon their due exercise, and that a taste for study is yet perfectly compatible with those various exertions to which the duties of a woman always call her, in whatever sphere she may have occasion to move.

Miss Campbell wished to save her pupils alike from that perpetual fidgetiness, which renders so many females unable to amuse themselves for a single hour, unless their hands, feet, and tongue are employed, and that pertinacious love of reading, which renders them utterly unable to enter into the common claims of society, while a new story is perused, or a new study developed; she considered these errors as diseases in the mental habit it was her duty to prevent or eradicate, since they must be ever inconsistent with general duty and individual happiness.

Time pa.s.sed--the vacation arrived, and the young people had the pleasure of all meeting again. Matilda was nearly as glad as Ellen to see Edmund and Charles, who, on their own parts, were much improved, and delighted to find the girls so. Matilda was in every respect altered, and although she had not Ellen's sweetness of temper, yet she had greatly conquered her propensity to pa.s.sion, was very obliging in her general manners, and considerate to her inferiors, and attached to Ellen, her governess, and Mr.

and Mrs. Harewood, with a tenderness and grat.i.tude that was very amiable and even affecting.

CHAPTER VIII.

One day, when Edmund and Charles had been at home about a week, the latter ran eagerly into the sitting-parlour, crying out--"Oh, mamma! there is Betty's sister down stairs, with the poor little twins in her arms, which were born just when Matilda came; they have short frocks now, but I perceive they have no shoes: suppose we young ones subscribe, and buy them some, poor things! there is my eighteen-penny piece for shoes, mamma--shoes, and hats too, if we can raise money enough."

Mrs. Harewood could not help smiling at Charles's eagerness, as she remembered the useful mortification he had experienced the last time his charity was called upon; and as she took up the money, she observed to him--"I am glad to see this, Charles; it is a proof you are more provident than you used to be; and, with your propensity to spending, it requires no little effort to save, in a large school, where there are always many temptations. I think your proposal is a very good one; and whilst I am collecting the money, pray step down stairs, and tell Betty to bring up the little innocents--we shall all be glad to see them."

Charles flew out of the room, and in less than a minute returned with the mother, carrying a babe in each arm. She was a very decent woman, the widow of a soldier, who died before his poor children were born; she now endeavoured to maintain herself and them by taking in washing, together with the pay of the parish, which, although small, she received very thankfully, and managed very carefully.

"Look, mamma! what pretty little feet they have," cried Ellen; "I am sure Charles was a good boy to think about shoes for them--was it not very kind of him, Matilda? because you know little boys seldom love little babies so much as girls do."

Matilda answered "yes," mechanically, for her mind was abstracted, and affected by the remembrance this scene was calculated to inspire. Mrs.

Harewood, feeling for her evident embarra.s.sment, sent the poor woman down stairs to take some refreshment, and then laid a three-shilling piece, as her own share of the contribution, besides Charles's subscription on the table.

Edmund laid a shilling on the table, saying--"If more is wanted, I will give you another with great pleasure: I hope, mamma, you _know_ that I will?"

"Yes, Edmund, I _do_ know that you will do any thing in your power, for you are regular and prudent, as well as a kind-hearted boy, and therefore have always got something to spare for the wants of others; I perceive, too, that you have the good sense to examine the nature of the claim made upon you, and that you give accordingly; _you_ are aware, and I wish all the young ones to be so likewise, that this, although an act of charity, is not called for by any immediate distress; it is not one of those cases which wring the heart and drain the purse, for the poor woman is neither unprovided with lodgings nor food, and we ought always to keep something for the sake of sufferers of that description: I wish you, children, to be free and liberal, for we are told in the scriptures that 'G.o.d loveth a cheerful giver;' but, in order to render you also frequent givers, you must be prudent ones."

"I have only one shilling in the world," said Ellen, laying it on the table.

"Then sixpence is as much as you ought to give," said Mrs. Harewood, giving her a sixpence in change, when, observing that she took it with an air of reluctance, she said--"My dear Ellen, be satisfied; you are a little girl, and have not half your brother's allowance, you know--it is sufficient."

While this was pa.s.sing, Matilda had been fumbling in her pocket, and blushing excessively; her mind was full of painful recollections, yet fraught with gleams of satisfaction; but she wished very much to do two very contrary things, and whilst she still hesitated, Miss Campbell said--"Here is another sixpence, ma'am, which I will take, and give you an eighteen-pence, as I wish to give you a shilling, with Edmund's proviso."

"But," said Matilda, with a mixture of eagerness and hesitation, "then there will be no change for me, and I wish to give the same as Ellen; don't I want change, ma'am? I--I believe I do."

There was, in this confusion, and the blush which deepened in her cheek, a something which showed Mrs. Harewood a great deal of what was pa.s.sing in the mind of this self-convicted, but compa.s.sionate and ingenuous girl. Mrs.

Harewood took her shilling, and returned her sixpence, which she evidently received with pain, but an effort to smile, as Ellen had done, in return for the smile of her mamma.

After a short pause, Mrs. Harewood said--"Well, Matilda, your delicacy is now satisfied--you have not affected any display of humanity, or ostentatious exhibition of wealth, in order to humble your young friends; but I perceive your heart is not satisfied; that heart is really interested in these babes, and, conscious that it is in your power to do more, you are mortified at stopping short of your own wishes and their wants."

"Oh dear, ma'am," replied Matilda, "you have read all the thoughts of my heart, (at least all but one,) and if you think it right, and Ellen will not think me proud, I will indeed be very glad if you will accept a crown for my subscription."

"I shall receive it with pleasure; and I can venture to a.s.sure you, that my children will neither feel envy, anger, nor any other emotion, except joy, at seeing the little objects of their care benefited, and you happy; for they have been taught only to value such actions, according to the motive in one party, and their usefulness to the other: but, Matilda, if it is not a very great secret, I should be glad to know what that _one_ other thought in your heart was, which I did not guess, upon this occasion?"

Matilda did not find this question so easy of reply as Mrs. Harewood had expected it to be; she blushed and hung down her head; but, on perceiving that Mrs. Harewood was going to release her from all necessity of reply, she struggled to conquer what she deemed a weakness in herself, and answered thus--"Why, my dear madam, I was thinking what a little proud, stubborn, ill-behaved girl I was, at the time when these twins were born, and we first made a subscription for this poor woman; I remembered, too, how miserable I was, and altogether how much I had to lament, and I felt as if I could like to do something, to prove how thankful I am to G.o.d for bringing me into a family like yours, where every day of my life I may learn something good, and where I have been a great deal more happy than ever I was before, even in the house with my own parents."

Matilda stopped a moment, as if she thought her confession had perhaps infringed on her duty; but recollecting that all her past sorrow had been laid to the proper account, which was her own bad temper and pride, she again proceeded in it.

"When I thought on these things, I came close up to you; but my heart beat so quick, I could not speak, or else I had a guinea in my hand, the last my dear mamma gave me, and I wished very much to give you _that_; but then the memory of my foolish pride, the last time, came again into my mind--I became ashamed, and determined in all things to be guided by Ellen, who is almost a year older than I, and a great deal better."

"No, no--not _better_," said Ellen, warmly; and even her brothers, who loved her very dearly, struck with the same admiration of Matilda's frankness and generosity, exclaimed--"You are as good as Ellen _now_, Matilda--indeed you are!"

Mrs. Harewood, tenderly kissing her, a.s.sured her of her approbation, saying--"All you have said, my dear, tends decidedly to prove that your mind is indeed properly impressed with your duty both towards G.o.d and man, and that you have the most sincere desire to conquer those faults which you have already greatly amended; therefore I am determined to permit you to exercise your benevolence, in the most extensive manner that your heart could wish, knowing, as I do, that your fortune is fully equal to any act of charity, and that your good mamma will not fail to approve of it."

"Thank you, thank you, dear Mrs. Harewood! oh, you are my English mother, and I love you much more than any other person in the world, except my Barbadoes mamma."

The children eagerly crowded round their mother's chair, to hear what the good news was, which promised to benefit Sally, and make Matilda happy.

"I know," said Mrs. Harewood, "that the purchase of a mangle would set up the poor woman in her profession as a washerwoman, and enable her to earn at least ten shillings a-week more. It was my intention to purchase one for her myself at Christmas; but I could not do it before, as my charity-purse has been very much run upon lately. When Mr. Harewood comes in, I will ask for the money, and to-morrow we will all go in the coach, and see Matilda purchase it: but, my dear girl, suppose you just step and inform the poor woman of your intention, which I am certain you had rather do without witnesses; it will not only increase her pleasure, but enable her to prepare her apartment for such a n.o.ble and useful piece of furniture."

Matilda left the room, but returned almost immediately.