The Governess [The Little Female Academy]
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Sarah Fielding >> The Governess [The Little Female Academy]
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Here Miss Sukey ceased, and Mrs. Teachum told her she was a very
good girl, and had remembered a great deal of the play. 'But
(said she) in time, with using yourself to this way of repeating
what you have read, you will come to a better manner, and a more
regular method of telling your story, which you was now so intent
upon finishing, that you forgot to describe what sort of women
those two young ladies were, though, as to all the rest, you have
been particular enough.'
'Indeed, madam, (said Miss Sukey), I had forgot that, but Lady
Charlotte was a very sensible, grave young lady, and lady Harriet
was extremely gay and coquettish; but Mr. Camply tells her how
much it misbecomes her to be so and she having good sense, as well
as good nature, is convinced of her folly, and likes him so well
for his reproof, that she consents to marry him.'
Mrs. Teachum, addressing herself to them all, told them, that this
was a method she wished they would take with whatever they read;
for nothing so strongly imprinted anything on the memory as such a
repetition; and then turning to Miss Jenny Peace, she said, 'And
now, Miss Jenny, I desire you will speak freely what you think is
the chief moral to be drawn from the play you have just read.'
Miss Jenny being thus suddenly asked a question of this nature,
considered some time before she gave an answer; for she was
naturally very diffident of her own opinion in anything where she
had not been before instructed by some one she thought wiser than
herself. At last, with a modest look, and an humble voice, she
said, 'Since, madam, you have commanded me to speak my sentiments
freely, I think by what happened to each character in this play,
the author intended to prove what my good mamma first taught me,
and what you, madam, since have so strongly confirmed me in;
namely, that folly, wickedness, and misery, all three, as
constantly dwell together, as wisdom, virtue, and happiness do.'
''Tis very true (answered Mrs. Teachum); but this moral does not
arise only from the happy turn in favour of the virtuous characters
in the conclusion of the play, but is strongly inculcated, as you
see all along, in the peace of mind that attends the virtuous, even
in the midst of oppression and distress, while the event is yet
doubtful, and apparently against them; and, on the contrary, in the
confusion of mind which the vicious are tormented with, even whilst
they falsely imagine themselves triumphant.'
Mrs. Teachum then taking the book out of Miss Jenny's hands, and
turning to the passage, said, 'How does Lady Brumpton show us the
wretched condition of her own mind, when she says,
'"How miserable 'tis to have one one hates always about one! And
when one can't endure one's own reflections upon some actions, who
can bear the thoughts of another upon them?"
'Then with what perturbation of mind does she proceed, to wish it
was in her power to increase her wickedness, without making use
enough of her understanding, to see that by that means she would
but increase her own misery.
'On the other hand, what a noble figure does Lord Hardy make, when,
by this wicked woman's contrivances, he thinks himself disinherited
of his whole fortune, ill-treated, and neglected by a father, he
never had in thought offended! He could give an opportunity to a
sincere friend, who would not flatter him, to say,
'No; you are, my lord, the extraordinary man, who, on the loss of
an almost princely fortune, can be master of a temper that makes
you the envy rather than pity, of your more fortunate, not more
happy friends."
'This is a fine distinction between fortunate and happy; and
intimates this happiness must dwell in the mind, and depends upon
no outward accidents.
'Fortune, indeed, is a blessing, if properly used; which Camply
shows, when by that means he can assist and relieve his worthy
friend.
'With what advantage does Lady Charlotte appear over her sister,
when the latter is trifling and dancing before the glass, and the
former says,
'"If I am at first so silly as to be a little taken with myself, I
know it is a fault, and take pains to correct it."
'And on Lady Harriet's saying, very giddily, that it was too soon
for her to think at that rate, Lady Charlotte properly adds,
'"They that think it too soon to understand themselves, will very
soon find it too late."
'In how ridiculous a light does Lady Harriet appear, while she is
displaying all that foolish coquetry! And how different a figure
does she make, when she has got the better of it?
'My Lady Brumpton, when alarmed with the least noise, breaks out
into all the convulsive starts natural to conscious guilt.
'"Ha! what noise is that--that noise of fighting?--Run, I say.--
Whither are you going?--What, are you mad?--Will you leave me
alone?--Can't you stir?--What, you can't take your message with
you!--Whatever 'tis, I suppose you are not in the plot, not you--
nor that now they're breaking open my house for Charlotte--Not
you.--Go see what's the matter, I say; I have nobody I can trust.--
One minute I think this wench honest, and the next false.-- Whither
shall I turn me?"
'This is a picture of the confused, the miserable mind of a close,
malicious, cruel, designing woman, as Lady Brumpton was, and as
Lady Harriet very properly calls her.
'Honesty and faithfulness shine forth in all their lustre, in the
good old Trusty. We follow him throughout with anxious wishes for
his success, and tears of joy for his tenderness. And when he
finds that he is likely to come at the whole truth, and to save
his lord from being deceived and betrayed into unjustly ruining
his noble son, you may remember that he makes this pious
reflection:
All that is ours, is to be justly bent;
And Heaven in its own time will bless th' event.
'This is the natural thought that proceeds from innocence and
goodness; and surely this state of mind is happiness.
'I have only pointed out a few passages, to show you, that though
it is the nature of comedy to end happily, and therefore the good
characters must be successful in the last act; yet the moral lies
deeper, and is to be deduced from a proof throughout this play,
that the natural consequence of vice is misery within, even in the
midst of an apparent triumph; and the natural consequence of
goodness is a calm peace of mind, even in the midst of oppression
and distress.
'I have endeavoured, my little dears, to show you, as clearly as I
can, not only what moral is to be drawn from this play, but what
is to be sought for in all others; and where that moral is not to
be found, the writer will have it to answer for, that he has been
guilty of one of the worst of evils; namely, that he has clothed
vice in so beautiful a dress, that, instead of deterring, it will
allure and draw into its snares the young and tender mind. And I
am sorry to say, that too many of our dramatic performances are of
this latter cast; which is the reason, that wise and prudent
parents and governors in general discourage in very young people
the reading of plays. And though by what I have said (if it makes
a proper impression) I doubt not but you will all have a just
abhorrence of such immoral plays, instead of being pleased with
them, should they fall in your way; yet I would advise you rather
to avoid them, and never to read any but such as are approved of;
and recommended to you by those who have the care of your education.'
Here good Mrs. Teachum ceased, and left her little scholars to
reflect on what she had been saying; when Miss Jenny Peace
declared, for her part, that she could feel the truth of her
governess's observations; for she had rather be the innocent Lord
Hardy, though she was to have but that one shilling in the world
which was so insolently offered him as his father's last legacy,
than be the Lady Brumpton, even though she had possessed the
fortune she so treacherously endeavoured to obtain.
'Nay (said Miss Dolly Friendly) I had rather have been old Trusty,
with all the infirmities of age, following my Lord Hardy through
the world, had his poverty and distress been ever so great, than
have been the malicious Lady Brumpton, in the height of her
beauty, surrounded by a crowd of lovers and flatterers.'
Miss Henny Fret then declared how glad she was that she had now no
malice in her mind; though she could not always have said so, as
she would inform them in the history of her past life.
THE DESCRIPTION OF MISS HENNY FRET.
Miss Henny Fret was turned of nine years old. She was very
prettily made, and remarkably genteel. All her features were
regular. She was not very fair, and looked pale. Her upper lip
seemed rather shorter than it should be; for it was drawn up in
such a manner, as to show her upper teeth; and though this was in
some degree natural, yet it had been very much increased by her
being continually on the fret for every trifling accident that
offended her, or on every contradiction that was offered to her.
When you came to examine her face, she had not one feature but
what was pretty; yet, from that constant uneasiness which appeared
in her countenance, it gave you so little pleasure to look at her,
that she seldom had common justice done her, but had generally
hitherto passed for a little insignificant plain girl, though her
very face was so altered since she was grown good natured, and had
got the better of that foolish fretfulness she used to be
possessed of, that she appeared from her good-humoured smiles
quite a different person; and, with a mild aspect, thus began her
story:
THE LIFE OF MISS HENNY FRET.
'I had one brother,' said Miss Henny, 'as well as Miss Jenny
Peace; but my manner of living with him was quite the reverse to
that in which she lived with her brother. All my praise or blame
was to arise from my being better or worse than my brother. If I
was guilty of any fault, it was immediately said, "Oh! fie, miss!
Master George (that was my brother's name) would not be guilty of
such a thing for the world." If he was carried abroad, and I
stayed at home, then I was bemoaned over, that poor Miss Henny was
left at home, and her brother carried abroad. And then I was
told, that I should go abroad one of these days, and my brother be
left at home so that whenever I went abroad, my greatest joy was,
that he was left at home; and I was pleased to see him come out to
the coach-door with a melancholy air that he could not go too. If
my brother happened to have any fruit given him, and was in a
peevish humour, and would not give me as much as I desired, the
servant that attended me was sure to bid me take care, when I had
anything he waited, not to give him any. So that I thought, if I
did not endeavour to be revenged of him, I should show a want of
spirit, which was of all things what I dreaded most. I had a
better memory than my brother, and whenever I learnt anything, my
comfort was to laugh at him because he could not learn so fast; by
which means I got a good deal of learning, but never minded what I
learnt, nor took any pains to keep it; so that what I was eager to
learn one day, to show George how much I knew more than he, I
forgot the next. And so I went on learning, and forgetting as
fast as I learnt; and all the pains I took served only to show
that I COULD learn.
'I was so great a favourite, that I was never denied any thing I
asked for; but I was very unhappy for the same reason that Miss
Dolly Friendly's sister was so; and I have often sat down and
cried, because I did not know what I would have, till at last I
own I grew so peevish and humoursome, that I was always on the
fret, and harboured in my mind a kind of malice that made me fancy
whatever my brother got, I lost; and in this unhappy condition I
lived, till I came to school, and here I found that other misses
wanted to have their humours as well as myself. This I could not
bear, because I had been used to have my own will, and never to
trouble myself about what others felt. For whenever I beat or
abused my brother, his pain did not make me cry; but I believe it
was thinking wrong made me guilty of these faults; for I don't
find I am ill-natured; for now I have been taught to consider that
my companions can feel as well as myself, I am sorry for their
pain, and glad when they are pleased, and would be glad to do
anything to oblige them.'
Here Miss Henny ceased, and Miss Jenny Peace then told her how
glad she was to hear that she had subdued all malice in her mind,
adding, 'These weeds, my dear, unless early plucked up, are (as I
have heard our good governess observe upon a like occasion) very
apt to take such deep root, as to choke every good seed around
them; and then who can tell whether, with the same opportunities,
they might not become Lady Brumptons before the end of their
lives?'
Little Polly Suckling remembered that all the company had told the
story of their past lives, except herself; and she thought she
would not be left out; but yet she had a mind to be asked to tell
it, hoping that her companions thought her of consequence enough
not to leave her out of any scheme; therefore, addressing herself
to Miss Jenny, she said she thought it was very pleasant to hear
anybody tell the history of their own lives. Miss Jenny saw her
meaning, and answered, 'So it is, my little dear; and now, if you
please, you shall oblige us with relating the history of yours.'
Polly smiled at this request, and said she was ready to comply.
THE DESCRIPTION OF MISS POLLY SUCKLING.
Miss Polly Suckling was just turned of eight years old, but so
short of her age, that few people took her to be above five. It
was not a dwarfish shortness; for she had the most exact
proportioned limbs in the world, very small bones, and was as fat
as a little cherub. She was extremely fair, and her hair quite
flaxen. Her eyes a perfect blue, her mouth small, and her lips
quite plump and red. She had the freshness of a milkmaid; and
when she smiled and laughed, she seemed to show an hundred
agreeable dimples. She was, in short, the very picture of health
and good-humour, and was the plaything and general favorite of the
whole school.
THE LIFE OF MISS POLLY SUCKLING.
'Now,' said little Polly, 'I will tell you all my whole history.
I hardly remember anything before I came to school, for I was but
five years old when I was brought hither.
'All I know is, that I don't love quarrelling, for I like better
to live in peace and quietness. But I have been always less than
any of my companions, ever since I have been here; and so I only
followed the example of the rest; and as I found they contended
about everything, I did so too. Besides, I have been always in
fear that my schoolfellows wanted to impose on me, because I was
little; and so I used to engage in every quarrel, rather than be
left out, as if I was too little to give any assistance; but,
indeed, I am very glad now we all agree, because I always came by
the worst of it. And, besides, it is a great pleasure to me to be
loved, and every Miss is kind and good to me, and ready to assist
me whenever I ask them. And this is all I know of my whole life.'
When little Polly ceased, she was kissed and applauded by the
whole company, for the agreeable simplicity of her little history.
And thus ended the eighth day's amusement.
TUESDAY.
THE NINTH DAY.
Miss Jenny rose early in the morning, and, having collected the
lives of her companions (which she had wrote down each day, as
they related them) she carried them, after morning school,
according to her promise, to her governess.
Mrs. Teachum, when she had perused them, was much pleased; and
said that she perceived, by the manner in which her scholars had
related their lives, how much they were in earnest in their design
of amendment. 'For (continued she) they have all confessed their
faults without reserve; and the untowardly bent of their minds,
which so strongly appeared before the quarrel, has not broke out
in these their little histories; but, on the contrary, they all
seem, according to their capacities, to have endeavoured at
imitating your style, in the account you gave of your own life. I
would have you continue to employ your leisure hours in the manner
you have lately done, only setting apart a proper time for
exercise; and today I will dispense with your attendance in the
school-room and indulge you this afternoon in another walk, either
to the dairy house, or to the cherry-garden, whichever you all
agree on. But as I shall not go with you myself, and shall only
find a servant to take care of you, I hope to hear from you, Miss
Jenny, so good an account of the behaviour of your little friends
and companions, that I shall have no cause to repent my indulgence.'
Miss Jenny Peace respectfully took leave of her governess, and
hastened to the arbour, where her little friends were met, in
expectation of her coming. She told them how well pleased their
governess was with them all, for the ingenuous confession of their
faults in their past lives; and she then declared Mrs. Teachum's
kind permission to them to take another walk that afternoon.
As no one had at present any story to read or relate, they
employed their time till dinner, some in walking and running about
the garden; others in looking after and tending some plant or
flower, that they had taken particularly under their care, which
Mrs. Teachum both permitted and encouraged them in, whilst Miss
Jenny Peace, Miss Sukey Jennett, and Miss Dolly Friendly, remained
in the arbour, the two latter asking a thousand questions of the
former, both concerning all the instructions she had ever learned
from her mamma, and by what means they should best be able to
preserve that friendship and happiness, which had of late
subsisted amongst them; saying, how pleased their friends and
relations would be, to see such a change in their temper and
behaviour, and how much they should be beloved by every one.
When they met at dinner, Mrs. Teachum asked them, whether they had
determined upon the choice she had given them in their afternoon's
walk; and they were all desirous of going to the dairy house; for
little Polly said, she longed to see the good-humoured old woman
again, and, indeed, she would not now say anything to her of her
shaking head, or her grey hair. Mrs. Teachum was pleased, that
little Polly so gratefully remembered the old woman, who had been
so kind to her; and readily consented to their choice, and
approved of their determination.
Being soon equipped for their walk, they set out, attended by two
maidservants; and as soon as they arrived, the good old woman
expressed the highest joy on seeing them, and told little Polly,
that she should have plenty of cream and strawberries, for her
daughter had been that day in the wood, and had brought home three
baskets of very fine ones. Mrs. Nelly, her daughter, said very
crossly, that she supposed there would be fine work amongst them,
now their governess was not with them; but 'twas her mother's way,
to let all children be as rude as they pleased. Miss Sukey
Jennett, with some indignation in her look, was going to answer
her; but Miss Jenny Peace, fearing she would say something less
mild than she wished, gave her a nod; and, turning to the young
woman, with great modesty and temper, thus said: 'You shall see,
Mrs. Nelly, that our good governess's instructions are of more
force with us, than to lose all their effect when we are out of
her presence; and I hope you will have no cause, when we go away,
to complain of the ill behaviour of any of us.'
The good old woman declared she never saw such sweet-tempered
children in all her life; and after they had eat their
strawberries and cream, and were loaded with pinks and roses by
the good woman's bounty (for they did not gather one without her
permission), they took their leave with the utmost civility, and
Miss Jenny handsomely rewarded the old woman for her good cheer.
Mrs. Nelly herself was so pleased with their regular and
inoffensive behaviour, that she could not help telling Miss Jenny,
that she, and all her companions, had, indeed, behaved as well as
if their governess had been with them: on which Miss Jenny (as
they were walking home) observed to Miss Sukey Jennett (whom she
had prevented from making any reply to Mrs. Nelly's speech how
much better it was to gain another's good will by our own
endeavours to be obliging, than to provoke them to be more cross,
by our angry answers and reproaches.
When this little company, employed in pleasing talk and lively
observations, were come within about a mile of Mrs. Teachum's
house, and within view of a nobleman's fine seat, Miss Jenny said,
that the next time their governess permitted them to walk out, she
would ask her leave, that they might go and see that fine house;
for some time ago she had told them, that they should go thither
when the family were absent. Mrs. Wilson, the housekeeper, who by
chance was walking that way, and heard what Miss Jenny said, came
up to them, and told Miss Jenny that her lord and lady were now
both absent, having set out, one for London, and the other for
another fine seat, forty miles off, that very morning; and as she
knew them to be Mrs. Teachum's well-regulated family, they should
be welcome to see the house and gardens now, if they liked it.
Miss Jenny thanked her, and said, as it was near two hours sooner
than their governess expected them home, she would accept of her
kind offer. The housekeeper led them through an avenue of tall
elm-trees into this magnificent house, in which were many spacious
apartments, furnished with the utmost grandeur and elegance. Some
of the rooms were adorned with fine pictures, others were hung
with tapestry almost as lively as those paintings, and most of the
apartments above stairs were furnished with the finest sorts of
needle-work. Our little company were struck into a sort of silent
wonder and admiration at the splendid appearance of everything
around them; nor could they find words to express the various
reflections that passed in their minds, on seeing such a variety
of dazzling gaudy things: but when they came to the needlework,
Miss Jenny could not help smiling, to see how every one seemed
most fixed in attention upon that sort of work, which she herself
was employed in, and she saw in every face a secret wish, that
their own piece of work might be finished with equal neatness and
perfection. The housekeeper was greatly pleased to see them so
much delighted, and answered all their questions concerning the
stories that were represented in the pictures and tapestry as
fully as the time would permit; but Miss Jenny, being fearful of
exceeding the hour in which they would be expected home, told them
they must not now stay any longer, but if their governess would
give them leave, and it would not be troublesome to Mrs. Wilson,
they would come another time. She answered, that it was so far
from being troublesome, that she never had more pleasure in her
life, than to see so many well-behaved young ladies, who all
seemed not only pleased with what they saw, but doubly delighted,
and happy, in seeing each other so; and for her part, she could
wish they were to stay with her all their lives; and, in short,
they should not go till they had been in her room, and eat some
sweetmeats of her own making. The good woman seemed to take so
much delight in giving them any pleasure, that Miss Jenny could
not refuse accepting her offer; and, when they were all in her
room, Polly Suckling said, 'Well, this is a most charming house; I
wish we could all live here for ever. How happy must the lord and
lady of this fine place be!'
'Indeed, my little Polly,' said Miss Jenny, 'you may be very much
mistaken; for you know our good governess has taught us, that
there is no happiness but in the content of our own minds; and
perhaps we may have more pleasure in viewing these fine things,
than the owners have in the possession of them.'
'It is very true,' said the housekeeper, 'for my lord and lady
have no delight in all this magnificence; for, by being so
accustomed to it, they walk through all these apartments, and
never so much as observe or amuse themselves with the work, the
pictures, or anything else, or if they observe them at all, it is
rather with a look that denotes a sort of weariness, at seeing the
same things continually before them, than with any kind of
pleasure.' And then, with a deep sigh, she added, 'You are,
indeed, young lady, perfectly in the right, when you say grandeur
and happiness do not always go together.' But turning off the
discourse, Mrs. Wilson forced them to take as many dried
sweetmeats as they could carry away with them, and insisted upon
their promise (with Mrs. Teachum's consent) that they should come
another time to see the gardens. They then took their leave with
many thanks, and the greatest civility; and discoursed all the way
home, on the fine things they had seen. Miss Betty Ford said,
that the fine gilding, and so many glittering looking-glasses,
made her think herself in Barbarico's great hall, where he kept
all his treasure.
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