Some days after, while we were conversing over our tea, we heard the
noise of a carriage; and Mr. Stanley, looking out from a bow window in
which he and I were sitting, said it was Lady and Miss Rattle driving up
the avenue. He had just time to add, "These are our _fine_ neighbors.
They always make us a visit as soon as they come down, while all the
gloss and lustre of London is fresh upon them. We have always our
regular routine of conversation. While her Ladyship is pouring the
fashions into Mrs. Stanley's ear, Miss Rattle, who is about Ph[oe]be's
age, entertains my daughters and me with the history of her own talents
and acquirements."
Here they entered. After a few compliments, Lady Rattle seated herself
between Lady Belfield and Mrs. Stanley at the upper end of the room;
while the fine, sprightly, boisterous girl of fifteen or sixteen threw
herself back on the sofa at nearly her full length between Mr. Stanley
and me, the Miss Stanleys and Sir John sitting near us, within hearing
of her lively loquacity.
"Well, Miss Amelia," said Mr. Stanley, "I dare say you have made good
use of your time this winter; I suppose you have ere now completed the
whole circle of the arts. Now let me hear what you have been doing, and
tell me your whole achievements as frankly as you used to do when you
were a little girl." "Indeed," replied she, "I have not been idle, if I
must speak the truth. One has so many things to learn, you know. I have
gone on with my French and Italian of course, and I am beginning German.
Then comes my drawing-master; he teaches me to paint flowers and shells,
and to draw ruins and buildings, and to take views. He is a good soul,
and is finishing a set of pictures, and half a dozen fire-screens, which
I began for mamma. He _does_ help me to be sure, but indeed I do some of
it myself, don't I, mamma?" calling out to her mother, who was too much
absorbed in her own narratives to attend to her daughter.
"And then," pursued the young prattler, "I learn varnishing, and
gilding, and japaning. And next winter I shall learn modeling, and
etching, and engraving in mezzotinto and aquatinta; for Lady Di. Dash
learns etching, and mamma says, as I shall have a better fortune than
Lady Di., she vows I shall learn every thing she does. Then I have a
dancing-master, who teaches me the Scotch and Irish steps; and another
who teaches me attitudes, and I shall soon learn the waltz, and I can
stand longer on one leg already than Lady Di. Then I have a
singing-master, and another who teaches me the harp, and another for the
piano-forte. And what little time I can spare from these _principal_
things, I give by odd minutes to ancient and modern history, and
geography, and astronomy, and grammar, and botany. Then I attend
lectures on chemistry, and experimental philosophy, for as I am not yet
come out, I have not much to do in the evenings; and mamma says there is
nothing in the world that money can pay for but what I shall learn. And
I run so delightfully fast from one thing to another that I am never
tired. What makes it so pleasant is, as soon as I am fairly set in with
one master, another arrives. I should hate to be long at the same thing.
But I sha'n't have a great while to work so hard, for as soon as I come
out, I shall give it all up, except music and dancing."
All this time Lucilla sat listening with a smile, behind the complacency
of which she tried to conceal her astonishment. Ph[oe]be, who had less
self-control, was on the very verge of a broad laugh. Sir John, who had
long lived in a soil where this species is indigenous, had been too long
accustomed to all its varieties to feel much astonishment at this
specimen, which, however, he sat contemplating with philosophical but
discriminating coolness.
For my own part, my mind was wholly absorbed in contrasting the coarse
manners of this voluble and intrepid, but good-humored girl, with the
quiet, cheerful, and unassuming elegance of Lucilla.
"I should be afraid, Miss Rattle," said Mr. Stanley, "if you did not
look in such blooming health, that, with all these incessant labors, you
did not allow yourself time for rest. Surely you never sleep?"
"O yes, that I do, and eat too," said she; "my life is not quite so hard
and moping as you fancy. What between shopping and morning visits with
mamma, and seeing sights, and the park, and the gardens (which, by the
way, I hate, except on a Sunday when they are crowded), and our young
balls, which are four or five in a week after Easter, and mamma's music
parties at home, I contrive to enjoy myself tolerably, though after I
have been presented, I shall be a thousand times better off, for then I
sha'n't have a moment to myself. Won't that be delightful?" said she,
twitching my arm rather roughly, by way of recalling my attention,
which, however, had seldom wandered.
As she had now run out her London materials, the news of the
neighborhood next furnished a subject for her volubility. After she had
mentioned in detail one or two stories of low village gossip, while I
was wondering how she could come at them, she struck me dumb by quoting
the coachman as her authority. This enigma was soon explained. The
mother and daughter having exhausted their different topics of discourse
nearly at the same time, they took their leave, in order to enrich
every family in the neighborhood, on whom they were going to call, with
the same valuable knowledge which they had imparted to us.
Mr. Stanley conducted Lady Rattle, and I led her daughter; but as I
offered to hand her into the carriage she started back with a sprightly
motion, and screamed out, "O no, not in the inside, pray help me up to
the _dickey_; I always protest I never _will_ ride with any body but the
coachman, if we go ever so far." So saying, with a spring which showed
how much she despised my assistance, the little hoyden was seated in a
moment, nodding familiarly at me as if I had been an old friend.
Then with a voice, emulating that which, when passing by Charing Cross,
I have heard issue from an over-stuffed vehicle, when a robust sailor
has thrust his body out at the window, the fair creature vociferated,
"Drive on, coachman!" He obeyed, and turning round her whole person, she
continued nodding at me till they were out of sight.
"Here is a mass of accomplishments," said I, "without one particle of
mind, one ray of common sense, or one shade of delicacy! Surely somewhat
less time and less money might have sufficed to qualify a companion for
the coachman!"
"What poor creatures are we men," said I to Mr. Stanley as soon as he
came in. "We think it very well, if, after much labor and long
application, we can attain to one or two of the innumerable acquirements
of this gay little girl. Nor is this I find the rare achievement of one
happy genius--there is a whole class of these miraculous females. Miss
Rattle
"Is knight of the shire, and represents them all."
"It is only young ladies," replied he, "whose vast abilities, whose
mighty grasp of mind can take in every thing. Among men, learned men,
talents are commonly directed into some one channel, and fortunate is he
who, in that one, attains to excellence. The linguist is rarely a
painter, nor is the mathematician often a poet. Even in one profession,
there are divisions and subdivisions. The same lawyer never thinks of
presiding both in the King's Bench, and in the Court of Chancery. The
science of healing is not only divided into its three distinct branches,
but in the profession of surgery only, how many are the subdivisions!
One professor undertakes the eye, another the ear, and a third the
teeth. But woman, ambitious, aspiring, universal, triumphant, glorious
woman, even at the age of a school-boy, encounters the whole range of
arts, attacks the whole circle of sciences!"
"A mighty maze, and _quite_ without a plan," replied Sir John, laughing.
"But the truth is, the misfortune does not so much consist in their
learning every thing, as in their knowing nothing; I mean nothing well.
When gold is beaten out so wide, the lamina must needs be very thin. And
you may observe, the more valuable attainments, though they are not to
be left out of the modish plan, are kept in the background; and are to
be picked up out of the odd remnants of that time, the sum of which is
devoted to frivolous accomplishments. All this gay confusion of
acquirements, these holiday splendors, this superfluity of enterprise,
enumerated in the first part of her catalogue, is the _real business_ of
education, the latter part is incidental, and if taught is not learned.
"As to the lectures so boastfully mentioned, they may doubtless be made
very useful subsidiaries to instruction. They most happily illustrate
book-knowledge; but if the pupil's instructions in private do not
precede, and keep pace with these useful public exhibitions, her
knowledge will be only presumptuous ignorance. She may learn to talk of
oxygen and hydrogen, and deflagration, and trituration but she will know
nothing of the science except the terms. It is not knowing the name of
his tools that makes an artist; and I should be afraid of the vanity
which such superficial information would communicate to a mind not
previously prepared, nor exercised at home in corresponding studies. But
as Miss Rattle honestly confessed, as soon as she _comes out_, all these
things will die away of themselves, and dancing and music will be almost
all which will survive of her multifarious pursuits."
"I look upon the great predominance of music in female education," said
Mr. Stanley, "to be the source of more mischief than is suspected; not
from any evil in the thing itself, but from its being such a gulf of
time, as really to leave little room for solid acquisitions. I love
music, and, were it only cultivated as an amusement, should commend it.
But the monstrous proportion, or rather disproportion of life which it
swallows up, even in many religious families--and this is the chief
subject of my regret--has converted an innocent diversion into a
positive sin. I question if many gay men devote more hours in a day to
idle purposes, than the daughters of many pious parents spend in this
amusement. All these hours the mind lies fallow, improvement is at a
stand, if even it does not retrograde. Nor is it the shreds and scraps
of time, stolen in the intervals of better things, that are so devoted;
but it is the morning, the prime, the profitable, the active hours, when
the mind is vigorous, the spirits light, the intellect awake and fresh,
and the whole being wound up by the refreshment of sleep, and animated
by the return of light and life, for nobler services."
"If," said Sir John, "music were cultivated to embellish retirement, to
be practiced where pleasures are scarce, and good performers are not to
be had, it would quite alter the case. But the truth is, these highly
taught ladies are not only living in public where they constantly hear
the most exquisite professors, but they have them also at their own
houses. Now one of these two things must happen. Either the performance
of the lady will be so inferior as not to be worth hearing on the
comparison, or so good that she will fancy herself the rival, instead of
the admirer of the performer, whom she had better pay and praise than
fruitlessly emulate."
"This anxious struggle to reach the unattainable excellence of the
professor," said Mr. Stanley, "often brings to my mind the contest for
victory between the ambitious nightingale and the angry lutanist in the
beautiful Prolusion of Strada."
"It is to the predominance of this talent," replied I, "that I ascribe
that want of companionableness of which I complain. The excellence of
musical performance is a decorated screen, behind which all defects in
domestic knowledge, in taste, judgment, and literature, and the talents
which make an elegant companion, are creditably concealed."
"I have made," said Sir John, "another remark. Young ladies, who from
apparent shyness do not join in the conversation of a small select
party, are always ready enough to entertain them with music on the
slightest hint. Surely it is equally modest to _say_ as to _sing_,
especially to sing those melting strains we sometimes hear sung, and
which we should be ashamed to hear said. After all, how few hours are
there in a week, in which a man engaged in the pursuits of life, and a
woman in the duties of a family, wish to employ in music. I am fond of
it myself, and Lady Belfield plays admirably; but with the cares
inseparable from the conscientious discharge of her duty with so many
children, how little time has she to play, or I to listen! But there is
no day, no hour, no meal in which I do not enjoy in her the ever ready
pleasure of an elegant and interesting companion. A man of sense, when
all goes smoothly, wants to be entertained; under vexation to be
soothed; in difficulties to be counseled; in sorrow to be comforted. In
a mere artist can he reasonably look for these resources?"
"Only figure to yourself," replied Mr. Stanley, "my six girls daily
playing their four hours a piece, which is now a moderate allowance! As
we have but one instrument they must be at it in succession, day and
night, to keep pace with their neighbors. If I may compare light things
with serious ones, it would resemble," added he, smiling, "the perpetual
psalmody of good Mr. Nicholars Ferrar, who had relays of musicians every
six hours to sing the whole Psalter through every day and night! I mean
not to ridicule that holy man; but my girls thus keeping their useless
vigils in turn, we should only have the melody without any of the piety.
No, my friend! I will have but two or three singing birds to cheer my
little grove. If all the world are performers, there will soon be no
hearers. Now, as I am resolved in my own family that some shall listen,
I will have but few to perform."
"It must be confessed," said Sir John, "that Miss Rattle is no servile
imitator of the vapid tribe of the superficially accomplished. Her
violent animal spirits prevent her from growing smooth by attrition. She
is as rough and angular as rusticity itself could have made her. Where
strength of character, however, is only marked by the worst concomitant
of strength, which is coarseness, I should almost prefer inanity
itself."
"I should a little fear," said I, "that I lay too much stress on
companionableness; on the _positive duty of being agreeable at home_,
had I not early learned the doctrine from my father, and seen it
exemplified so happy in the practice of my mother."
"I entirely agree with you, Charles," said Mr. Stanley, "as to the
absolute _morality_ of being agreeable and even entertaining in one's
own family circle. Nothing so soon, and so certainly wears out the
happiness of married persons, as that too common bad effect of
familiarity, the sinking down into dullness and insipidity; neglecting
to keep alive the flame by the delicacy which first kindled it; want of
vigilance in keeping the temper cheerful by Christian discipline, and
the faculties bright by constant use. Mutual affection decays of itself,
even where there is no great moral turpitude, without mutual endeavors,
not only to improve, but to amuse.
"This," continued he, "is one of the great arts of _home enjoyment_.
That it is so little practiced, accounts in a good measure for the
undomestic turn of too many married persons. The man meets abroad with
amusements, and the woman with attentions, to which they are not
accustomed at home. Whereas a capacity to please on the one part, and a
disposition to be pleased on the other, in their own house, would make
most visits appear dull. But then the disposition and the capacity must
be cultivated antecedently to marriage. A woman, whose whole education
has been rehearsal, will always be dull, except she lives on the stage,
constantly displaying what she has been sedulously acquiring. Books, on
the contrary, well chosen books, do not lead to exhibition. The
knowledge a woman acquires in private, desires no witnesses; the
possession is the pleasure. It improves herself, it embellishes her
family society, it entertains her husband, it informs her children. The
gratification is cheap, is safe, is always to be had at home."
"It is superfluous," said Sir John, "to decorate women so highly for
early youth; youth is itself a decoration. We mistakingly adorn most
that part of life which least requires it, and neglect to provide for
that which will want it most. It is for that sober period when life has
lost its freshness, the passions their intenseness, and the spirits
their hilarity, that we should be preparing. Our wisdom would be to
anticipate the wants of middle life, to lay in a store of notions,
ideas, principles, and habits, which may preserve or transfer to the
mind that affection which was at first partly attracted by the person.
But to add a vacant mind to a form which has ceased to please; to
provide no subsidiary aid to beauty while it lasts, and especially no
substitute when it is departed, is to render life comfortless, and
marriage dreary."
"The reading of a cultivated woman," said Mr. Stanley, "commonly
occupies less time than the music of a musical woman, or the idleness of
an indolent woman, or the dress of a vain woman, or the dissipation of a
fluttering woman; she is therefore likely to have more leisure for her
duties, as well as more inclination, and a sounder judgment for
performing them. But pray observe, that I assume my reading woman to be
a religious woman; and I will not answer for the effect of a literary
vanity, more than for that of any other vanity, in a mind not habitually
disciplined by Christian principle, the only safe and infallible
antidote for knowledge of every kind."
Before we had finished our conversation, we were interrupted by the
arrival of the post. Sir John eagerly opened the newspaper; but, instead
of gratifying our impatience with the intelligence for which we panted
from the glorious Spaniards, he read a paragraph which stated "that Miss
Denham had eloped with Signor Squallini, that they were on their way to
Scotland, and that Lady Denham had been in fits ever since."
Lady Belfield with her usual kindness was beginning to express how much
she pitied her old acquaintance. "My dear Caroline," said Sir John,
"there is too much substantial and inevitable misery in the world, for
you to waste much compassion on this foolish woman. Lady Denham has
little reason to be surprised at an event which all reasonable people
must have anticipated. Provoking and disgraceful as it is, what has she
to blame but her own infatuation? This Italian was the associate of all
her pleasures; the constant theme of her admiration. He was admitted
when her friends were excluded. The girl was continually hearing that
music was the best gift, and that Signor Squallini was the best gifted.
Miss Denham," added, he laughing, "had more wit than your Strada's
nightingale. Instead of dropping down dead on the lute for envy, she
thought it better to run away with the lutanist for love. I pity the
poor girl, however, who has furnished such a commentary to our text, and
who is rather the victim of a wretched education than of her own bad
propensities."