Matilda’s mind was deeply impressed with this holy and happy consolation, but yet she could not help lamenting her own loss, in one whom she no longer considered her slave, and little better than a beast of burden, but as her countrywoman, her friend, the partaker of that precious faith by which alone the most wise, wealthy, and great, can hope to inherit the kingdom of heaven; and she could not help praying for her restoration to health, with all the fervour of which her heart was capable; and many a promise mingled with her prayer, that, if it pleased God to restore her, she would never treat her ill again: and these promises she likewise repeated to Mrs. Harewood and her governess.
Neither of these ladies lost the opportunity thus offered, of impressing on her mind the duties which every woman, whatever may be her rank or situation in life, does indeed owe to those whom Providence hath placed under her. They explained, in particular, the necessity of forbearance in point of manners, and of consideration in her daily employments—“If,” said the good mistress, “I ring the bell twice or thrice, where once would answer every purpose, provided I gave myself the trouble of considering what I really wanted, I not only waste my servant’s time, which would supply my wants, and therefore injure myself in one sense, but I waste the strength which is her only means of subsistence, and I awaken that vexation of temper, which, although perhaps suppressed before me, will yet rankle in her bosom, and probably induce her to commit some injury on my property, which is an actual sin in her: thus my folly leads to her guilt, and the very least mischief that can accrue is her unhappiness; for who can be happy whose temper is perpetually ruffled by the cruel thoughtlessness of those who have the absolute disposal of their time, their talents, and, in a great measure, their dispositions?”
“Depend upon it,” added Miss Campbell, “that as we are assured in the Scriptures, that ‘for every idle word we shall be brought to account,’ so, in a particular manner, must we be judged for all those idle words and actions which have inflicted on any of our fellow-creatures pains we have no right to bestow, or tempted them to sins they had no inclination to follow; the petty tyrannies of our whims, changes, and fancies—of our scoldings, complainings, peremptory orders, and causeless contradictions, will all one day swell that awful list of sins, of which it may be truly said, ‘we cannot answer one in a thousand.’”
When Miss Campbell ceased speaking, Ellen, who, although not affected so violently as Matilda, had yet felt much for Zebby’s situation, and was seriously desirous of profiting by all she heard, said in a low voice—“I will do every thing for myself—I will never trouble Susan, or Betty, or any body.”
Mrs. Harewood knew the bent of her daughter’s mind, and that although, from the sweetness of her temper and the mildness of her manners, she was not likely to fall into Matilda’s errors, there were others of an opposite class, from which it was necessary to guard her; she therefore added—“Although consideration and kindness are certainly the first duties to be insisted upon in our conduct, yet there are others of not less importance. It is the place of every mistress to exact obedience to reasonable commands and the execution of all proper services. If she does not do this, she deserts her own station in society, defeats the intentions she was called to fulfil, and which made her the guide and guardian, not the companion and fellow-server, of her servants. In abandoning them to their own discretion, she lays upon them a burden which, either from ignorance or habit, they are probably unequal to endure, since it is certain that many truly respectable persons in this class have been only so while they were under the controlling eye or leading mind of their superiors. Besides, all uncommon levity of manners, like all unbecoming freedom in conversation, more frequently arises from weakness or idleness in the parties, and ought to be guarded against in our conduct, as never failing to be degradatory to ourselves, and very far from beneficial to those they affect to serve: it is possible to be very friendly, yet very firm; to be gentle, yet resolute, and at once a fellow-Christian and a good master to those whom Providence hath rendered our dependants.”
Ellen listened to this with attention, and endeavoured to understand and apply it; but both she and Matilda continued to pay the most affectionate attentions to poor Zebby, whose disorder in a few days took a more favourable turn than could have been expected, although the delirium did not immediately subside, but rather affected her general temper, which, under its influence, appeared as remarkably unpleasant and tormenting to herself and all around, as it was formerly kind and obliging.
This period was indeed trying to Matilda, who was by no means sufficiently confirmed in her virtuous resolutions, or good habits, to endure reproaches where she merited thanks, even in a case where she was aware of deranged intellect and real affection, either of which ought to have led her to endure the wild sallies and troublesome pettishness of the suffering negro. It must however be allowed, that if she did not do all she ought, she yet did more than could have been once expected, and very greatly increased the esteem and approbation of her friends.
Matilda, when she was not influenced by the bodily indolence which was natural to her as a West-Indian, and which was rather a misfortune than her fault, was apt to be too active and bustling for the stillness required in a sick chamber; and whatever she did, was done with a rapidity and noisiness, more in unison with her own ardent desire of doing good, than the actual welfare of the person she sought to relieve; whereas Ellen never for a moment lost sight of that gentle care and considerate pity, which was natural to a mind attuned to tenderness from its very birth; and many a time would she say—“Hush, Matilda! don’t speak so loud; have a care how you shut the door,” &c.
One day they both happened to go in just as the nurse was going to give the patient a basin of broth—“Let me give it her,” said Matilda; “you know she always likes me to give her any thing.”
“Sometimes she does, when she knows you; but her head wanders to-day sadly.”