Behaviour to Servants.—True Dignity of Character.
The children not coming down to breakfast one morning at the usual time,
Mrs. Mason went herself to enquire the reason; and as she entered the
apartment, heard Mary say to the maid who assisted her, I wonder at your
impertinence, to talk thus to me—do you know who you are speaking to?—she
was going on; but Mrs. Mason interrupted her, and answered the
question—to a little girl, who is only assisted because she is weak.
Mary shrunk back abashed, and Mrs. Mason continued, as you have treated
Betty, who is ten years older than yourself, improperly, you must now do
every thing for yourself; and, as you will be some time about it,
Caroline and I will eat our breakfast, and visit Mrs. Trueman. By the
time we return, you may perhaps have recollected that children are
inferior to servants—who act from the dictates of reason, and whose
understandings are arrived at some degree of maturity, while children
must be governed and directed till _their’s_ gains strength to work by
itself: for it is the proper exercise of our reason that makes us in any
degree independent.
When Mrs. Mason returned, she mildly addressed Mary. I have often told
you that every dispensation of Providence tended to our improvement, if
we do not perversely act contrary to our interest. One being is made
dependent on another, that love and forbearance may soften the human
heart, and that linked together by necessity, and the exercise of the
social affections, the whole family on earth might have a fellow feeling
for each other. By these means we improve one another; but there is no
real inferiority.
You have read the fable of the head supposing itself superior to the rest
of the members, though all are equally necessary to the support of life.
If I behave improperly to servants, I am really their inferior, as I
abuse a trust, and imitate not the Being, whose servant I am, without a
shadow of equality. Children are helpless. I order my servants to wait
on you, because you are so; but I have not as much respect for you as for
them; you may possibly become a virtuous character.—Many of my servants
are really so already; they have done their duty, filled an humble
station, as they ought to fill it, conscientiously. And do you dare to
despise those whom your Creator approves?
Before the greatest earthly beings I should not be awed, they are my
fellow servants; and, though superior in rank, which, like personal
beauty, only dazzles the vulgar; yet I may possess more knowledge and
virtue. The same feeling actuates me when I am in company with the poor;
we are creatures of the same nature, and I may be their inferiour in
those graces which should adorn my soul, and render me truly great.
How often must I repeat to you, that a child is inferiour to a man;
because reason is in its infancy, and it is reason which exalts a man
above a brute; and the cultivation of it raises the wise man above the
ignorant; for wisdom is only another name for virtue.
This morning, when I entered your apartment, I heard you insult a worthy
servant. You had just said your prayers; but they must have been only
the gabble of the tongue; your heart was not engaged in the sacred
employment, or you could not so soon have forgotten that you were a weak,
dependent being, and that you were to receive mercy and kindness only on
the condition of your practising the same.
I advise you to ask Betty to pardon your impertinence; till you do so,
she shall not assist you; you would find yourself very helpless without
the assistance of men and women—unable to cook your meat, bake your
bread, wash your clothes, or even put them on—such a helpless creature is
a child—I know what you are, you perceive.
Mary submitted—and in future after she said her prayers, remembered that
she was to endeavour to curb her temper.