When Matilda was fully recovered from the pain of her accident, her good
friends had the satisfaction to perceive that the most salutary effects had
arisen from the disposition with which she had borne it. She had become
sensible how much we must all be indebted to our fellow-creatures, in any
privation of health and ease, and this had taught her to be humble and
thankful to all who contributed to her comfort; and from necessarily
suppressing both her appetite and her temper, she had gained a command of
both, which she had been a stranger to before. From being unable to join
in any play requiring personal activity, she had been obliged to find her
amusement in reading; and as that most excellent and delightful work, "The
Parent's Assistant," by Miss Edgeworth, had been presented to her just
before, she made herself completely mistress of those admirable tales,
and by conversing much upon them with Mr. and Mrs. Harewood, with whom she
usually sat, she became deeply imbued with all the important precepts they
are intended to convey, as well as the stories they so agreeably relate.
One evening, when the whole family were assembled, the disorder which had
afflicted Zebby became the subject of conversation; Miss Campbell
observing, "that the poor woman had undoubtedly been as nervous as any fine
lady, and therefore given another proof, in addition to the multitude which
must affect every person of judgment and feeling, that there was indeed no
difference of constitution, feeling, or character, between white people and
black ones, when they were placed in similar circumstances."
"Certainly not," said Mr. Harewood, "and in a short time this doctrine will
be more fully proved by the emancipation of all the blacks, who will, I
trust, become diligent servants and happy householders, no longer the
slaves of tyrants, but the servants of upright masters."
"But I am told, mamma," said Edmund, "that the proprietors of West India
property will all be ruined; people say, this will come upon them as a
retribution for past sins; but as many of these sins were committed in days
that are past, and the present inhabitants, in many instances, have behaved
exceedingly well, I must own I wish sincerely this may not be the case. Can
you tell me any thing about it?"
"They all deserve to be ruined," interrupted Charles, "who have done such
bad things as the planters do. Oh, how I wish I could be there when all
the slaves are set at liberty! with what delight should I join in their
universal shout of joy and freedom, and in all their innocent festivals!"
Edmund shook his head--"I should like the slaves to be happy as well as
you; but I don't like for any body to be ruined, especially people who are
so nerveless and inactive as those who have resided in warm islands; surely
it is not true?"
Edmund looked again inquiringly.
"I am sorry to say," answered Mrs. Harewood, "that in many cases much
suffering may be apprehended; but our government will undoubtedly soften
every evil to the inhabitants, as far as they can do it consistent with
their views: you know the emancipation of the slaves takes place gradually,
and by that means enables people to collect their money, to divert the
channels of their merchandise, or to make themselves friends of those who
have hitherto been held by the arm of power only. The grand shout of a
multitude restored to freedom is undoubtedly very attractive, and enough
to warm the heart of a benevolent enthusiast like Charles; but it is not
advisable to set food in great quantities before a starving man, lest he
eat himself into a surfeit. Ignorance is always in danger of using power
very ill, since we see that even the enlightened are frequently prone to
misuse it."
"Then I hope, mamma, it will turn out better than people think; and there
will be very little individual suffering from it."
"I am sorry to say, my dear, that notwithstanding what I have said, I yet
fear many persons will suffer; I know a widow myself, who is returning to
this country nearly destitute, after living many years in a state of
luxury; very happily she has only one child, and has not suffered her past
prosperity so to unnerve her mind, as to render her useless and desponding
in the day of adversity. On the contrary, she has the magnanimity to
rejoice in the freedom of the slaves, although that freedom has destroyed
her fortune."
At this moment, every eye was involuntarily bent on Matilda, who, feeling
undoubtedly some degree of compunction and shame, when she either thought
on her own former conduct, or the state of her country, had kept aloof till
now. At this moment she started, and, with a look of most anxious inquiry,
she cried--"Oh, ma'am! surely you do not mean my poor mamma? And yet--yes,
certainly you mean her--she has lived many years in prosperity--she has but
one child, and she is possessed of a pious, good heart, and a kind,
generous spirit, and would not wish the poor negroes to remain slaves--she
would rather work herself than injure any body. Dear Miss Campbell, pray
make me clever and good like yourself, and then I will be a governess, and
get money, and support dear mamma--_indeed_ I will."
The amazing rapidity with which these words were uttered, and the
perturbation of spirits which accompanied them, prevented Matilda from
perceiving that Mrs. Harewood was anxious to interrupt her; and even when
that good friend began to speak, she was too much affected and disturbed to
listen to her. She went on to say, with an agitated voice, but ingenuous
countenance--"I cannot help crying, to be sure; but indeed I am not sorry
that the poor slaves are to have their liberty, and I do not mind the money
we have lost; I only want to see my dear mamma, and to comfort her, and to
tell her that I would not be the mistress of bought slaves for all the
world; for I _now_ know that in the sight of God they are my equals, and if
good, my superiors. I _know_ that Jesus Christ died to save them as well as
me, and that he will not forgive them who insult him, by daring to buy and
sell those whom he has purchased with his own blood; and besides, I do not
wish to possess them; for if I did, I should be proud and cruel and
miserable, as I used to be."
The anxious, troubled heart of Matilda now found refuge in abundant tears,
and, throwing herself on the bosom of her maternal friend, she shed them
freely there; and as the storm of grief subsided, Mrs. Harewood obtained
her attention to these words--"My dear Matilda, your vivid imagination, and
the quickness of feeling, which even in a good cause is too apt to hurry
you away, have led you into unnecessary trouble; it is not _your_ mamma,
but a Mrs. Weston, of Jamaica, of whom I spoke. I can, however, scarcely
regret the pain you have experienced, because it has caused you to express
sentiments which do you honour, and which must give great pleasure to your
mother."
"But my mamma is coming over soon?"
"She _is_, my dear, but under very different circumstances, her property
being all well disposed of, and settled in the English funds; and be it
your comfort to know, that although your father was a proprietor of West
India estates, yet his fortune was not accumulated by the infamous traffic
to which we allude; although, like other people, he held slaves for the
purposes of agriculture and domestic labour, he had an estate in this
country, which enabled him to support an expensive establishment, without
recurring to those practices too common among the planters in your
country."
"And has the lady of whom you spoke no estate, no money, to support
herself and her little girl?"
"She has _not_, my dear; but I trust her friends in England will provide
her with some situation, in which her talents will enable her both to
support herself and benefit others; and by this means the cup of affliction
now may hereafter prove one of blessedness: her little girl is only six
years old, and will therefore be but a trifling expense to her for some
years to come."
Matilda now wiped her eyes, but was observed for a considerable time
involved in deep thought, and silent thanksgiving to God, and no one around
thought it right to interrupt the silent aspirations of her heart; but as
soon as her countenance resumed its usual expression, and she rose from her
seat, the young ones surrounded her, and with cheerful looks congratulated
her on the change in her feelings, which they were aware a few moments must
have produced; for, as Edmund observed, though it was very right to be
resigned to every change which it pleased God to send, yet it was
undoubtedly a great pleasure to know that a dear parent enjoyed not only
the power of living in her usual style of comfort, but that she preserved
the power of bestowing a part of her fortune to feed the poor, and to
communicate knowledge, and sow the seeds of virtue in the minds of the
young and uninformed.
Matilda listened to their congratulations with gratitude and pleasure, and
looked forward with exultation, chastened by a proper diffidence of
herself, to the time when, with her beloved mother, she should be employed
in acts of beneficence and social enjoyment--"So passing through things
temporal, as not to lose the things that are eternal."