But to return to Mrs. Ranby's daughters. Is this _consistency_, said I
to myself, when I compared the inanity of the life with the seriousness
of the discourse: and contrasted the vacant way in which the day was
spent, with the decent and devout manner in which it was begun and
ended? I recollected, that under the early though imperfect sacred
institution, the fire of the morning and evening sacrifice was never
suffered to be extinguished during the day.
Though Mrs. Ranby would have thought it a little heathenish to have had
her daughters instructed in polite literature, and to have filled a
leisure hour in reading to her a useful book, that was not professedly
religious, she felt no compunction at their waste of time, or the
trifling pursuits in which the day was suffered to spend itself. The
piano-forte, when they were weary of the harp, copying some indifferent
drawings, gilding a set of flower-pots, and netting white gloves and
veils, seemed to fill up the whole business of these immortal beings, of
these Christians, for whom it had been solemnly engaged that they should
manfully fight under Christ's banner.
On a further acquaintance, I was much more inclined to lay the blame on
their education than their dispositions. I found them not only
good-humored, but charitably disposed: but their charities were small
and casual, often ill applied, and always without a plan. They knew
nothing of the state, character, or wants of the neighboring poor; and
it had never been pointed out to them that the instruction of the young
and ignorant made any part of the duty of the rich toward them.
When I once ventured to drop a hint on this subject to Mrs. Ranby, she
drily said there were many other ways of doing good to the poor, besides
exposing her daughters to the probability of catching diseases, and the
certainty of getting dirt by such visits. Her subscription was never
wanting when she was _quite sure_ that the object was deserving. As I
suspected that she a little over-rated her own charity, I could not
forbear observing, that I did not think it demanded a combination of all
the virtues to entitle a poor sick wretch to a dinner. And though I
durst not quote so light an authority as Hamlet to her, I could not
help saying to myself, _Give every man his due, and who shall 'scape
whipping_? O! if God dealt so rigidly with us; if he waited to bestow
his ordinary blessings till we were good enough to deserve them, who
would be clothed? who would be fed? who would have a roof to shelter
him?
It was not that she gave nothing away, but she had a great dislike to
relieve any but those of her own religious persuasion. Though her
Redeemer laid down his life for all people, nations, and languages, she
will only lay down her money for a very limited number of a very limited
class. To be religious is not claim sufficient on her bounty, they must
be religious in a particular way.
The Miss Ranbys had not been habituated to make any systematic provision
for regular charity, or for any of those accidental calamities for which
the purse of the affluent should always be provided; and being very
expensive in their persons, they had often not a sixpence to bestow,
when the most deserving case presented itself. This must frequently
happen where there is no specific fund for charity, which should be
included in the general arrangement of expenses; and the exercise of
benevolence not be left to depend on the accidental state of the purse.
If no new trinket happened to be wanted, these young ladies were liberal
to any application, though always without judging of its merits by their
own eyes and ears. But if there was a competition between a sick family
and a new brooch, the brooch was sure to carry the day. This would not
have been the case, had they been habituated to visit themselves the
abodes of penury and woe. Their flexible young hearts would have been
wrought upon by the actual sight of miseries, the impression of which
was feeble when it reached their ears at a distance, surrounded as they
were with all the softnesses and accommodations of luxurious life.
"They would do what they could. They hoped it was not so bad as was
represented." They fell into the usual way of pacifying their
consciences by their regrets; and brought themselves to believe that
their sympathy with the suffering was an atonement for their not
relieving it.
I observed with concern, during my visit, how little the Christian
temper seemed to be considered as a part of the Christian religion. This
appeared in the daily concerns of this high professor. An opinion
contradicted, a person of different religious views commended, the
smallest opposition to her will, the intrusion of an unseasonable
visitor, even an imperfection in the dressing of some dish at table:
such trifles not only discomposed her, but the discomposure was
manifested with a vehemence which she was not aware was a fault; nor did
she seem at all sensible that her religion was ever to be resorted to
but on great occasions, forgetting that great occasions but rarely occur
in common life, and that these small passes, at which the enemy is
perpetually entering, the true Christian will vigilantly guard.
I observed in Mrs. Ranby one striking inconsistency. While she
considered it as forming a complete line of separation from the world,
that she and her daughters abstained from public places, she had no
objection to their indemnifying themselves for this forbearance, by
devoting so monstrous a disproportion of their time to that very
amusement which constitutes so principal a part of diversion abroad. The
time which is redeemed from what is wrong, is of little value, if not
dedicated to what is right; and it is not enough that the doctrines of
the gospel furnish a subject for discussion, if they do not furnish a
principle of action.
One of the most obvious defects which struck me in this and two or three
other families, whom I afterward visited, was the want of
companionableness in the daughters. They did not seem to form a part of
the family compact; but made a kind of distinct branch of themselves.
Surely, when only the parents and a few select friends are met together
in a family way, the daughters should contribute their portion to
enliven the domestic circle. They were always ready to sing and to play,
but did not take the pains to produce themselves in conversation; but
seemed to carry on a distinct intercourse by herding, and whispering,
and laughing together.
In some women who seemed to be possessed of good ingredients, they were
so ill mixed up together as not to produce an elegant, interesting
companion. It appeared to me that three of the grand inducements in the
choice of a wife, are, that a man may have a directress for his family,
a preceptress for his children, and a companion for himself. Can it be
honestly affirmed that the present habits of domestic life are generally
favorable to the union of these three essentials? Yet which of them can
a man of sense and principle consent to relinquish in his conjugal
prospects?