SIR,

I have been but a little time conversant in the world, yet I have

already had frequent opportunities of observing the little efficacy of

remonstrance and complaint, which, however extorted by oppression, or

supported by reason, are detested by one part of the world as rebellion,

censured by another as peevishness, by some heard with an appearance

of compassion, only to betray any of those sallies of vehemence and

resentment, which are apt to break out upon encouragement, and by others

passed over with indifference and neglect, as matters in which they have

no concern, and which if they should endeavour to examine or regulate,

they might draw mischief upon themselves.

Yet since it is no less natural for those who think themselves injured to

complain, than for others to neglect their complaints, I shall venture to

lay my case before you, in hopes that you will enforce my opinion, if you

think it just, or endeavour to rectify my sentiments, if I am mistaken.

I expect at least, that you will divest yourself of partiality, and that

whatever your age or solemnity may be, you will not, with the dotard's

insolence, pronounce me ignorant and foolish, perverse and refractory,

only because you perceive that I am young.

My father dying when I was but ten years old, left me, and a brother two

years younger than myself, to the care of my mother, a woman of birth

and education, whose prudence or virtue he had no reason to distrust.

She felt, for some time, all the sorrow which nature calls forth, upon

the final separation of persons dear to one another; and as her grief was

exhausted by its own violence, it subsided into tenderness for me and my

brother, and the year of mourning was spent in caresses, consolations,

and instruction, in celebration of my father's virtues, in professions of

perpetual regard to his memory, and hourly instances of such fondness as

gratitude will not easily suffer me to forget.

But when the term of this mournful felicity was expired, and my mother

appeared again without the ensigns of sorrow, the ladies of her

acquaintance began to tell her, upon whatever motives, that it was time

to live like the rest of the world; a powerful argument, which is seldom

used to a woman without effect. Lady Giddy was incessantly relating

the occurrences of the town, and Mrs. Gravely told her privately, with

great tenderness, that it began to be publickly observed how much she

overacted her part, and that most of her acquaintance suspected her hope

of procuring another husband to be the true ground of all that appearance

of tenderness and piety.

All the officiousness of kindness and folly was busied to change her

conduct. She was at one time alarmed with censure, and at another fired

with praise. She was told of balls, where others shone only because

she was absent; of new comedies, to which all the town was crowding;

and of many ingenious ironies, by which domestick diligence was made

contemptible.

It is difficult for virtue to stand alone against fear on one side, and

pleasure on the other; especially when no actual crime is proposed, and

prudence itself can suggest many reasons for relaxation and indulgence.

My mamma was at last persuaded to accompany Miss Giddy to a play. She

was received with a boundless profusion of compliments, and attended

home by a very fine gentleman. Next day she was with less difficulty

prevailed on to play at Mrs. Gravely's, and came home gay and lively;

for the distinctions that had been paid her awakened her vanity, and good

luck had kept her principles of frugality from giving her disturbance.

She now made her second entrance into the world, and her friends were

sufficiently industrious to prevent any return to her former life; every

morning brought messages of invitation, and every evening was passed in

places of diversion, from which she for some time complained that she

had rather be absent. In a short time she began to feel the happiness

of acting without controul, of being unaccountable for her hours, her

expenses, and her company; and learned by degrees to drop an expression

of contempt, or pity, at the mention of ladies whose husbands were

suspected of restraining their pleasures, or their play, and confessed

that she loved to go and come as she pleased.

I was still favoured with some incidental precepts and transient

endearments, and was now and then fondly kissed for smiling like my

papa: but most part of her morning was spent in comparing the opinion of

her maid and milliner, contriving some variation in her dress, visiting

shops, and sending compliments; and the rest of the day was too short for

visits, cards, plays, and concerts.

She now began to discover that it was impossible to educate children

properly at home. Parents could not have them always in their sight; the

society of servants was contagious; company produced boldness and spirit;

emulation excited industry; and a large school was naturally the first

step into the open world. A thousand other reasons she alleged, some of

little force in themselves, but so well seconded by pleasure, vanity, and

idleness, that they soon overcame all the remaining principles of kindness

and piety, and both I and my brother were despatched to boarding schools.

How my mamma spent her time when she was thus disburthened I am not able

to inform you, but I have reason to believe that trifles and amusements

took still faster hold of her heart. At first, she visited me at school,

and afterwards wrote to me; but in a short time, both her visits and her

letters were at an end, and no other notice was taken of me than to remit

money for my support.

When I came home at the vacation, I found myself coldly received, with an

observation, "that this girl will presently be a woman." I was, after the

usual stay, sent to school again, and overheard my mother say, as I was

a-going, "Well, now I shall recover."

In six months more I came again, and, with the usual childish alacrity,

was running to my mother's embrace, when she stopt me with exclamations

at the suddenness and enormity of my growth, having, she said, never seen

any body shoot up so much at my age. She was sure no other girls spread

at that rate, and she hated to have children look like women before their

time. I was disconcerted, and retired without hearing any thing more than

"Nay, if you are angry, Madam Steeple, you may walk off."

When once the forms of civility are violated, there remains little hope

of return to kindness or decency. My mamma made this appearance of

resentment a reason for continuing her malignity; and poor Miss May-pole,

for that was my appellation, was never mentioned or spoken to but, with

some expression of anger or dislike.

She had yet the pleasure of dressing me like a child, and I know not when

I should have been thought fit to change my habit, had I not been rescued

by a maiden sister of my father, who could not bear to see women in

hanging-sleeves, and therefore presented me with brocade for a gown, for

which I should have thought myself under great obligations, had she not

accompanied her favour with some hints that my mamma might now consider

her age, and give me her ear-rings, which she had shewn long enough in

publick places.

I now left the school, and came to live with my mamma, who considered me

as an usurper that had seized the rights of a woman before they were due,

and was pushing her down the precipice of age, that I might reign without

a superior. While I am thus beheld with jealousy and suspicion, you will

readily believe that it is difficult to please. Every word and look is an

offence. I never speak, but I pretend to some qualities and excellencies

which it is criminal to possess; if I am gay, she thinks it early enough

to coquette; if I am grave, she hates a prude in bibs; if I venture into

company, I am in haste for a husband; if I retire to my chamber, such

matron-like ladies are lovers of contemplation. I am on one pretence or

other generally excluded from her assemblies, nor am I ever suffered to

visit at the same place with my mamma. Every one wonders why she does

not bring Miss more into the world, and when she comes home in vapours I

am certain that she has heard either of my beauty or my wit, and expect

nothing for the ensuing week but taunts and menaces, contradiction and

reproaches.

Thus I live in a state of continual persecution, only because I was born

ten years too soon, and cannot stop the course of nature or of time, but

am unhappily a woman before my mother can willingly cease to be a girl.

I believe you would contribute to the happiness of many families, if, by

any arguments or persuasions, you could make mothers ashamed of rivalling

their children; if you could shew them, that though they may refuse to

grow wise, they must inevitably grow old; and that the proper solaces of

age are not musick and compliments, but wisdom and devotion; that those

who are so unwilling to quit the world will soon be driven from it; and

that it is therefore their interest to retire while there yet remain a

few hours for nobler employments.

The Works of Samuel Johnson, LL.D. in Nine Volumes, Volume 02 The Rambler, Volume I · 第 50 / 101 题