"Knowledge for them unlocks her _useful_ page,
And virtue blossoms for a better age."--BARBAULD.
A few days after Madame de Fleury had told Victoire the fable of the lion
and the mouse, she was informed by Sister Frances that Victoire had put
the fable into verse. It was wonderfully well done for a child of nine
years old, and Madame de Fleury was tempted to praise the lines; but,
checking the enthusiasm of the moment, she considered whether it would be
advantageous to cultivate her pupil's talent for poetry. Excellence in
the poetic art cannot be obtained without a degree of application for
which a girl in her situation could not have leisure. To encourage her
to become a mere rhyming scribbler, without any chance of obtaining
celebrity or securing subsistence, would be folly and cruelty. Early
prodigies in the lower ranks of life are seldom permanently successful;
they are cried up one day, and cried down the next. Their productions
rarely have that superiority which secures a fair preference in the great
literary market. Their performances are, perhaps, said to be _wonderful,
all things considered_, &c. Charitable allowances are made; the books
are purchased by associations of complaisant friends or opulent patrons;
a kind of forced demand is raised, but this can be only temporary and
delusive. In spite of bounties and of all the arts of protection,
nothing but what is intrinsically good will long be preferred, when it
must be purchased. But granting that positive excellence is attained,
there is always danger that for works of fancy the taste of the public
may suddenly vary: there is a fashion in these things; and when the mode
changes, the mere literary manufacturer is thrown out of employment; he
is unable to turn his hand to another trade, or to any but his own
peculiar branch of the business. The powers of the mind are often
partially cultivated in these self-taught geniuses. We often see that
one part of their understanding is nourished to the prejudice of the
rest--the imagination, for instance, at the expense of the judgment: so
that whilst they have acquired talents for show they have none for use.
In the affairs of common life they are utterly ignorant and imbecile--or
worse than imbecile. Early called into public notice, probably before
their moral habits are formed, they are extolled for some play of fancy
or of wit, as Bacon calls it, some juggler's trick of the intellect; they
immediately take an aversion to plodding labour, they feel raised above
their situation; possessed by the notion that genius exempts them not
only from labour, but from vulgar rules of prudence, they soon disgrace
themselves by their conduct, are deserted by their patrons, and sink into
despair or plunge into profligacy.
Convinced of these melancholy truths, Madame de Fleury was determined not
to add to the number of those imprudent or ostentatious patrons, who
sacrifice to their own amusement and vanity the future happiness of their
favourites. Victoire's verses were not handed about in fashionable
circles, nor was she called upon to recite them before a brilliant
audience, nor was she produced in public as a prodigy; she was educated
in private, and by slow and sure degrees, to be a good, useful, and happy
member of society. Upon the same principles which decided Madame de
Fleury against encouraging Victoire to be a poetess, she refrained from
giving any of her little pupils accomplishments unsuited to their
situation. Some had a fine ear for music, others showed powers of
dancing; but they were taught neither dancing nor music--talents which in
their station were more likely to be dangerous than serviceable. They
were not intended for actresses or opera-girls, but for shop-girls,
mantua-makers, work-women, and servants of different sorts; consequently
they were instructed in things which would be most necessary and useful
to young women in their rank of life. Before they were ten years old
they could do all kinds of plain needlework, they could read and write
well, and they were mistresses of the common rules of arithmetic. After
this age they were practised by a writing-master in drawing out bills
neatly, keeping accounts, and applying to every-day use their knowledge
of arithmetic. Some were taught by a laundress to wash and get up fine
linen and lace; others were instructed by a neighbouring traiteur in
those culinary mysteries with which Sister Frances was unacquainted. In
sweetmeats and confectioneries she yielded to no one; and she made her
pupils as expert as herself. Those who were intended for ladies' maids
were taught mantua-making, and had lessons from Madame de Fleury's own
woman in hairdressing.
Amongst her numerous friends and acquaintances, and amongst the
shopkeepers whom she was in the habit of employing, Madame de Fleury had
means of placing and establishing her pupils suitably and advantageously:
of this, both they and their parents were aware, so that there was a
constant and great motive operating continually to induce them to exert
themselves, and to behave well. This reasonable hope of reaping the
fruits of their education, and of being immediately rewarded for their
good conduct; this perception of the connection between what they are
taught and what they are to become, is necessary to make young people
assiduous; for want of attending to these principles many splendid
establishments have failed to produce pupils answerable to the
expectations which had been formed of them.
During seven years that Madame de Fleury persevered uniformly on the same
plan, only one girl forfeited her protection--a girl of the name of
Manon; she was Victoire's cousin, but totally unlike her in character.
When very young, her beautiful eyes and hair caught the fancy of a rich
lady, who took her into her family as a sort of humble playfellow for her
children. She was taught to dance and to sing: she soon excelled in
these accomplishments, and was admired, and produced as a prodigy of
talent. The lady of the house gave herself great credit for having
discerned, and having brought forward, such talents. Manon's moral
character was in the meantime neglected. In this house, where there was
a constant scene of hurry and dissipation, the child had frequent
opportunities and temptations to be dishonest. For some time she was not
detected; her caressing manners pleased her patroness, and servile
compliance with the humours of the children of the family secured their
goodwill. Encouraged by daily petty successes in the art of deceit, she
became a complete hypocrite. With culpable negligence, her mistress
trusted implicitly to appearances; and without examining whether she were
really honest, she suffered her to have free access to unlocked drawers
and valuable cabinets. Several articles of dress were missed from time
to time; but Manon managed so artfully, that she averted from herself all
suspicion. Emboldened by this fatal impunity, she at last attempted
depredations of more importance. She purloined a valuable snuff-box--was
detected in disposing of the broken parts of it at a pawnbroker's, and
was immediately discarded in disgrace; but by her tears and vehement
expressions of remorse she so far worked upon the weakness of the lady of
the house as to prevail upon her to conceal the circumstance that
occasioned her dismissal. Some months afterwards, Manon, pleading that
she was thoroughly reformed, obtained from this lady a recommendation to
Madame de Fleury's school. It is wonderful that, people, who in other
respects profess and practise integrity, can be so culpably weak as to
give good characters to those who do not deserve them: this is really one
of the worst species of forgery. Imposed upon by this treacherous
recommendation, Madame de Fleury received into the midst of her innocent
young pupils one who might have corrupted their minds secretly and
irrecoverably. Fortunately a discovery was made in time of Manon's real
disposition. A mere trifle led to the detection of her habits of
falsehood. As she could not do any kind of needlework, she was employed
in winding cotton; she was negligent, and did not in the course of the
week wind the same number of balls as her companions; and to conceal
this, she pretended that she had delivered the proper number to the
woman, who regularly called at the end of the week for the cotton. The
woman persisted in her account, and the children in theirs; and Manon
would not retract her assertion. The poor woman gave up the point; but
she declared that she would the next time send her brother to make up the
account, because he was sharper than herself, and would not be imposed
upon so easily. The ensuing week the brother came, and he proved to be
the very pawnbroker to whom Manon formerly offered the stolen box: he
knew her immediately; it was in vain that she attempted to puzzle him,
and to persuade him that she was not the same person. The man was clear
and firm. Sister Frances could scarcely believe what she heard. Struck
with horror, the children shrank back from Manon, and stood in silence.
Madame de Fleury immediately wrote to the lady who had recommended this
girl, and inquired into the truth of the pawnbroker's assertions. The
lady, who had given Manon a false character, could not deny the facts,
and could apologise for herself only by saying that "she believed the
girl to be partly reformed, and that she hoped, under Madame de Fleury's
judicious care, she would become an amiable and respectable woman."
Madame de Fleury, however, wisely judged that the hazard of corrupting
all her pupils should not be incurred for the slight chance of correcting
one, whose bad habits were of such long standing. Manon was expelled
from this happy little community--even Sister Frances, the most mild of
human beings, could never think of the danger to which they had been
exposed without expressing indignation against the lady who recommended
such a girl as a fit companion for her blameless and beloved pupils.