"Alas! regardless of their doom,
The little victims play:
No sense have they of ills to come,
No care beyond to-day."--GRAY.
Good legislators always attend to the habits, and what is called the
genius, of the people they have to govern. From youth to age, the taste
for whatever is called _une fete_ pervades the whole French nation.
Madame de Fleury availed herself judiciously of this powerful motive, and
connected it with the feelings of affection more than with the passion
for show. For instance, when any of her little people had done anything
particularly worthy of reward, she gave them leave to invite their
parents to a _fete_ prepared for them by their children, assisted by the
kindness of Sister Frances.
One day--it was a holiday obtained by Victoire's good conduct--all the
children prepared in their garden a little feast for their parents.
Sister Frances spread the table with a bountiful hand, the happy fathers
and mothers were waited upon by their children, and each in their turn
heard with delight from the benevolent nun some instance of their
daughter's improvement. Full of hope for the future and of gratitude for
the past, these honest people ate and talked, whilst in imagination they
saw their children all prosperously and usefully settled in the world.
They blessed Madame de Fleury in her absence, and they wished ardently
for her presence.
"The sun is setting, and Madame de Fleury is not yet come," cried
Victoire; "she said she would be here this evening--What can be the
matter?"
"Nothing is the matter, you may be sure," said Babet; "but that she has
forgotten us--she has so many things to think of."
"Yes; but I know she never forgets us," said Victoire; "and she loves so
much to see us all happy together, that I am sure it must be something
very extraordinary that detains her."
Babet laughed at Victoire's fears; but presently even she began to grow
impatient; for they waited long after sunset, expecting every moment that
Madame de Fleury would arrive. At last she appeared, but with a dejected
countenance, which seemed to justify Victoire's foreboding. When she saw
this festive company, each child sitting between her parents, and all at
her entrance looking up with affectionate pleasure, a faint smile
enlivened her countenance for a moment; but she did not speak to them
with her usual ease. Her mind seemed preoccupied by some disagreeable
business of importance. It appeared that it had some connection with
them; for as she walked round the table with Sister Frances, she said,
with a voice and look of great tenderness, "Poor children! how happy they
are at this moment!--Heaven only knows how soon they may be rendered, or
may render themselves, miserable!"
None of the children could imagine what this meant; but their parents
guessed that it had some allusion to the state of public affairs. About
this time some of those discontents had broken out which preceded the
terrible days of the Revolution. As yet, most of the common people, who
were honestly employed in earning their own living, neither understood
what was going on nor foresaw what was to happen. Many of their
superiors were not in such happy ignorance--they had information of the
intrigues that were forming; and the more penetration they possessed, the
more they feared the consequences of events which they could not control.
At the house of a great man, with whom she had dined this day, Madame de
Fleury had heard alarming news. Dreadful public disturbances, she saw,
were inevitable; and whilst she trembled for the fate of all who were
dear to her, these poor children had a share in her anxiety. She foresaw
the temptations, the dangers, to which they must be exposed, whether they
abandoned, or whether they abided by the principles their education had
instilled. She feared that the labour of years would perhaps be lost in
an instant, or that her innocent pupils would fall victims even to their
virtues.
Many of these young people were now of an age to understand and to govern
themselves by reason; and with these she determined to use those
preventive measures which reason affords. Without meddling with
politics, in which no amiable or sensible woman can wish to interfere,
the influence of ladies in the higher ranks of life may always be exerted
with perfect propriety, and with essential advantage to the public, in
conciliating the inferior classes of society, explaining to them their
duties and their interests, and impressing upon the minds of the children
of the poor sentiments of just subordination and honest independence. How
happy would it have been for France if women of fortune and abilities had
always exerted their talents and activity in this manner, instead of
wasting their powers in futile declamations, or in the intrigues of
party!