LETTER LXXV.
_From Miss Cowley to Miss Hardcastle._
I am, my dear friend, so powerfully impressed by the perusal of Miss
Flint’s _confession_, as her legacy to Lady Maclairn may with truth be
called, that I cannot divert my mind from the subject. What a scene of
iniquity have I sent you! and how rejoiced am I, that I prevailed on
Lady Maclairn not to tear open those wounds afresh by reading a detailed
account of actions and artifices which her brother employed to defraud
Mr. Flint’s children of their rights. Surely, my Lucy, the death of
Flamall was “a consummation devoutly to be wished.” To be removed from
the indignation of the injured, to be spared from the abhorrence of the
virtuous; to be saved from the constant dread of living an object
amenable to the most vigorous laws of his country; to be freed from the
horrors of his dying bed! But how momentary is this delusion of feeling!
My reason and my faith point out this disembodied spirit in its next
state of existence. With trembling awe I follow it to the tribunal of an
all-wise, omnipotent, and pure Judge. There do I contemplate this
forlorn and sullied soul, as rushing uncalled into the presence of that
Being, whose merciful purposes he has counteracted; and whose laws he
has insulted. Nature stands appalled, at the magnitude of offences like
these; and humanity must deplore the sinner thus cut off in the midst of
his sins.
I cannot however help being of opinion that, useful as the contemplation
of a Flamall’s life may be to beings who fearlessly follow the impulse
of every disorderly passion, _we_, my beloved Lucy, shall not be unwise,
to direct our thoughts from such shocking depravity of creatures like
ourselves. I wish so to do; and yet not lose the lesson of wisdom as
applicable to myself. In what, I would ask you, consisted the difference
between Miss Flint and Rachel Cowley at two years of age. The general
lineaments of our minds have a near affinity. What has produced the
moral differences which from that period have discriminated us?
Education, and the habits resulting from our respective situations: in
the one instance, the soil was left uncultured; in the other, it was
judiciously cultivated. Lucretia had been overlooked by her mother in
the early period of her life. Indolence and indulgence were this
mother’s faults. She found, in cultivating the docile and mild Percival,
a gratification of her own taste, and an object of amusement, as well as
for exclusive tenderness. This mother wanted firmness, and the vigilance
necessary for her duty. When passion had taken its root, this unhappy
creature was consigned over to the care and tuition of a schoolmistress.
I mean not to be illiberal; for I believe many women in that class of
life are not only accomplished women, but conscientiously disposed to be
useful to their pupils; but I cannot think that in a large school,
either the temper, or peculiar moral defects of a girl are likely to
meet with that nice and accurate observation which are necessary for
their correction. I will however admit that in this seminary Miss Flint
acquired the outward habits of decorum, and that knowledge, which, with
experience, and a different temper, might have conducted her, as it does
multitudes of our sex, in the common routine of private and domestic
life. She then returned to her parents, slenderly furnished by the gifts
of nature, with a spirit unsubdued, and a mind without any fixed
principle of action, beyond a confidence in herself. She was next a
candidate for favour in the world; and she proudly conceived that no one
would dare refuse it; but she found a rival, even in the cradle, and
under the parental roof. Is it to be expected, that from such a
disposition, and under such circumstances, envy and malice could be long
a stranger to her? The mother perceived their baneful influence; and she
opposed to their growth, nothing but remedies which relieved herself
from trouble and vexation. She _flattered_ instead of _reproving_, and
gave to her daughter an authority which she knew she would abuse.
Uncontrouled and domineering over those about her; irritated by the
neglect of those whom she could not subjugate to her imperious will, she
became soured, disappointed, and vindictive; and she finished by
becoming the fit instrument in the hands of a Flamall, for the ruin of
the innocent, and the perpetration of injustice, cruelty, and deceit.
Thus have we seen the fatal torrent of unchecked passions flow! but
suppose this wretched victim of their fury had been in Mrs. Hardcastle’s
hands. Oh Lucy, we want no supposition! We have seen a _torrent_, not
less impetuous, directed by her wisdom, to the salutary purposes for
which Heaven gave it strength and abundance; and instead of desolating
all within its reach, it has been led to supply delight, and
satisfaction! How often has her patient firmness subdued my angry
passions? How often has she detected them before I knew their power!
With what skill did she temper and mix the warm affections of my nature
with the rougher elements which composed me. How sweet, how endearing
was her notice of every little triumph I gained over myself; and with
what discrimination did she effect that bond of love, which made her
children useful to each other. Her Lucy’s gentleness was opposed to her
Rachel’s _courage_; and Horace’s self-command was the only point to
which emulation was recommended. Is it wonderful, that I have escaped
the fate of a Miss Flint? Is it wonderful that I should love virtue, and
reverence a faith thus exemplified? No, Lucy. But I have to fear, lest I
should disgrace Mrs. Hardcastle. We may, and I hope we shall, live to be
wives and mothers. Let us in that case, aim at being something better
than mere teeming animals; and like some in that class, who, following
their instinct, squeeze their offspring to death through fondness. I am
persuaded that we are weak and fallible creatures; but I cannot for an
instant admit, that an all-wise and merciful Being has exacted any _one
duty_, or enforced any _one command_, without having bestowed upon us
the faculties and capacity for fulfilling our obligations. Every mother
whose mind is sound, is called upon to perform the duties of a mother;
and without any better guide than her own reason and attention, she will
soon perceive that something more is required, than merely watching over
the preservation of her children. I am, and I wish to remain, a stranger
to that humility which represses, as beyond me, all that is arduous and
praise-worthy. I believe, that by applying my heart to wisdom, I may
become wise; and the mother who diligently watches over the first
openings of moral existence in the beings entrusted to her, will soon
discover, that she has the necessary talents for governing them safely.
Attention and experience will enlighten her; and should she never reach
to the accomplishment of all she wishes, she will at least secure to
herself the favour of God, and her own peace of mind. It pleases me, my
Lucy, to look forward to that period, when, with the name of Hardcastle,
I may be treading in the same path of duty which our mother pursued in
her road to Heaven. Will you wish me to suppress my hopes, that I may
one day be able, with the pure joy of an accepted spirit in her abode of
bliss, to point to her those inmates, whom her virtues trained for
happiness? Yet why this tear? I cannot erase the blot it has made.
Wherefore is it that my spirit faints? You must come and chide me; you
will find me paler and thinner than when I last saw you; and, it may be,
less the heroine, since there has been less to oppose me. But I hate
_sea voyages_!
Oh sweet Valentine! hasten to us! hasten and bring to me my Lucy! thou
shalt then be crowned as the harbinger of spring and Horace. Tell my
“lily,” that we expect no tears nor sighs. She is desired to wear the
same face she did with her _lilac ribbands_. We are all learning to be
philosophers, except Malcolm, who is daily in danger of losing his good
humour; and rates the work people for not being at Wenland, at the same
time that they are here. I believe in my conscience that Miss Hardcastle
and Miss Howard might sleep in the stable for him. But we do not mind
his _pouting_; and your apartment, which was Miss Flint’s, is to be made
worthy of the captain’s guests. Adieu, my dear girl; the good people
here send their blessings with