Towards sunset, I proposed taking a walk with the young lady, but she declined on account of the dew, and we returned to the parlour, where there was no light during the whole evening, as Mrs. Netherby declared that she thought nothing was more pleasant than to sit in a dark room in the summer. And when we caught a momentary glimpse from the candles that were carried past the door as the people went up and down stairs, we had the pleasure of finding that innumerable cockroaches were running over the floor and probably over our feet; these detestable insects having also a fancy for darkness.
The youngest of the mothers went up stairs to assist her maid in the arduous task of putting the children to bed, a business that occupied the whole evening; though the eldest boy stoutly refused to go at all, and stretching himself on the settee, he slept there till ten o'clock, when his father carried him off kicking and screaming.
The gentlemen talked altogether of trade and bank business. Some neighbours came in, and nearly fell over us in the dark. Finding the parlour (which had but one door) most insupportably warm, I took my seat in the entry, a narrow passage which Mrs. Netherby called the hall. Thither I was followed by Mrs. Pownsey, a lady of the Malaprop school, who had been talking to me all the evening of her daughters, Mary Margaret and Sarah Susan, they being now on a visit to an aunt in Connecticut. These young ladies had been educated, as their mother informed me, entirely by herself, on a plan of her own: and, as she assured me, with complete success; for Sarah Susan, the youngest, though only ten years old, was already regarded as quite a phinnominy (phenomenon), and as to Mary Margaret, she was an absolute prodigal.
"I teach them everything myself," said she, "except their French, and music, and drawing, in all which they take lessons from the first masters. And Mr. Bullhead, an English gentleman, comes twice a week to attend to their reading and writing and arithmetic, and the grammar of geography. They never have a moment to themselves, but are kept busy from morning till night. You know that idleness is the root of all evil."
"It is certainly the root of much evil," I replied; "but you know the old adage, which will apply equally to both sexes—'All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.'"
"Oh! they often play," resumed Mrs. Pownsey. "In the evening, after they have learned their lessons, they have games of history, and botany, and mathematics, and all such instructive diversions. I allow them no other plays. Their minds certainly are well stored with all the arts and science. At the same time, as I wish them to acquire a sufficient idea of what is going on in the world, I permit them every day to read over the Marianne List in our New York paper, the Chimerical Advertiser, that they may have a proper knowledge of ships: and also Mr. Walsh's Experts in his Gazette; though I believe he does not write these little moral things himself, but hires Mr. Addison, and Mr. Bacon, and Mr. Locke, and other such gentlemen for the purpose. The Daily Chronicle I never allow them to touch, for there is almost always a story in every paper, and none of these stories are warranted to be true, and reading falsehoods will learn them to tell fibs."
I was much amused with this process of reasoning, though I had more than once heard such logic on the subject of fictitious narratives.
"But, surely, Mrs. Pownsey," said I, "you do not interdict all works of imagination? Do you never permit your daughters to read for amusement?"
"Never," replied this wisest of mothers; "amusement is the high-road to vice. Indeed, with all their numerous studies, they have little or no time for reading anything. And when they have, I watch well that they shall read only books of instruction, such as Mr. Bullhead chooses for them. They are now at Rowland's Ancient History (I am told he is not the same Rowland that makes the Maccassar oil), and they have already got through seven volumes. Their Aunt Watson (who, between ourselves, is rather a weak-minded woman) is shocked at the children reading that book, and says it is filled with crimes and horrors. But so is all the Ancient History that ever I heard of, and of course it is proper that little girls should know these things. They will get a great deal more benefit from Rowland than from reading Miss Edgeworth's story-books, that sister Watson is always recommending."
"Have they ever read the history of their own country?" said I.