This instance of my father's fond admiration of his child, and in which he was countenanced by all who knew her, would not have found a place here, but for the inferences I drew from it. I had long perceived that Lucretia did not partake with us in the partiality we manifested for the innocent and bewitching Mary. I had seen the envy with which she regarded every proof of kindness and favour shewn to her; the spiteful misrepresentations which she gave of her disposition to strangers; and the contempt she discovered for the weakness of my father's adulation of his darling. During the time she was sitting for her picture, the artist was become a favoured guest at our table; and, with apparent sincerity, he observed one day, that a Guido alone could do justice to Mary's style of beauty. I saw Lucretia colour with vexation; and that very afternoon I rescued the poor child from her correcting hands, to whom with some resentment, I said, that I should inform my father and mother of her severity and violence. "Do so!" answered she, bursting into tears, "tell them, that the neglected, ugly Lucretia gave the beauty a sound box on the ear, and a lesson that she needs. Tell them, her baby face will be her ruin, but it shall never excuse her faults with me." The sweet and mild creature, with tears, protested that she did not know how she had offended her, imploring her forgiveness and soliciting to be friends.
I believe my prudent mother had observed the discontents of her eldest daughter as soon as myself; and in order to preserve the peace of the family, she studied to give Lucretia a consequence in it which she judged might satisfy, at least, her love of power. On her leaving school, my mother treated her as a young woman on whom she depended for assistance in the domestic concerns of the family. Oliver and myself were ordered to treat her with deference, and the servants were taught to respect Miss Flint's orders as her own. She continually praised her good qualities, and treated her with the utmost kindness and confidence. But Lucretia exercised her authority rather too much like a despot; my brother and myself were not always passive subjects; and the servants murmured under the controul of the young house-keeper. My father's tranquillity was thus invaded, and he determined on a measure, which, had it succeeded, would have restored order in his house. But Miss Flint was a plain girl; and my good father found that neither the frequent intimations which he gave of his liberal fortune, and designs in her favour, nor the commendations he bestowed on her good sense and notability, produced any overtures of a matrimonial kind for his daughter. Lucretia, estimating her fortune and pretensions, was too proud "to undervalue herself," and with manners never pleasing, she was overlooked by men whose fortune needed not trafficking for a wife. This period of her youth, of course, passed unpleasantly; and conscious that she was neither a favourite with her own sex nor the other, she disdained both, and acquired a severity of speech, and a pointed incivility of behaviour to all around her.
I had in the course of these events quitted my situation at the Charter-house. My partiality towards my sister Mary had not been unnoticed. Lucretia classed me with those whom she despised; and I met this indifference, it may be, with too much carelessness. In the mean time, my dear mother's influence was again exerted in my favour; but she gained her point with some difficulty. My father ungraciously observing, that he saw she was determined to have me learned and useless. He had no interest but such as his commercial concerns gave him; and he only wished, that I might not in the end blame her for an ambition so little profitable to my future fortune in life. My mother prevailed, and I was sent to Oxford. Satisfied with this extorted compliance, she saw me for two or three years happy in my pursuits, and the friend of my tutor; and wherefore, my dear Madam, should I suppress the glory of my life? She saw me her pride and hope! Her discernment in choosing the moment propitious to her applications in my behalf, and her gentle arguments in my favour had their effect; they could not make my father generous; but they prevented him from being mean; and my oeconomy rendered his bounty sufficient.
At this period of my history, I received the melancholy summons to attend my mother, whose life was in danger. Too soon were these apprehensions verified! I will pass over a sorrow which your feeling heart has known, and which was the tribute that every child must pay to the loss of a good parent. My mother appeared to have settled her accounts with this world, but as they related to Mary, then nearly fourteen. She spoke of her approaching dissolution with calmness and the hopes of a christian. "I have," said she to me, "only one anxiety to banish from my mind, before I give myself up to my merciful maker. But the mother is yet too busy for my resignation. You Percival, are my hope; you see the partial hand of nature has endowed your sister Mary with a beauty, which all must acknowledge; I dread it, as her misfortune. You know her artless, unsuspecting nature, the cheerful gaiety of her temper, and her soft, compliant disposition. Guard her, as you wish for a mother's blessing! Your father's pursuits in life, his excessive fondness for his dear girl, and, I may say it to you, his want of mental attainments, must disqualify him for the guide of her youthful career. Your brother will soon be so remote from her, that were he capable of protecting her, his situation will render him useless to her. Lucretia loves her not, and from the violence of her temper and the authority she will assume, every thing pernicious is to be feared. Watch over her safety; establish her in those principles to which alone she can trust for her security. Strengthen her in her weakness, encourage her in her duty, and preserve her spotless for that abode, in which, I hope, we shall be reunited. Your education," continued she calmly, "and what is of infinitely more importance, your moral attainments, not only qualify you to supply my loss to this precious girl, but they will, I trust, secure to you that mediocrity of fortune and independence I wish you. You are no stranger to your father's temper, and in his foibles you will find motives of gratitude to that providence which has afforded you the opportunity of correcting and enlarging your own views. I have of late," added she, deeply sighing, "found him more averse than usual to your expenditure at college. That wife who could convince him that his son was moderate and prudent, will be in her grave. Take this pocket-book, it contains my little savings, and it has been destined for your exigencies for some years. The time may come, when, with a mother's blessing, and the Almighty's favour, it will comfort you; preserve it for an hour of difficulty;" continued she, pressing my hand with great emotion, "endeavour to please your father; he has, my dear Percival, many good qualities. Live, if it be possible, in peace with Lucretia; be prepared for her ascendency. She will grieve your father in many points. I have laboured in vain to correct her temper, but God, in his own time, will, I trust, create in her a new heart; and she may live to befriend, not to annoy her family. Till that happy change takes place, be on your guard, never provoke her to anger, nor defy her power; such a conduct will never reclaim her, and will ruin you. Remember this my dear son, and continue to press forward in that course, which must, and will end well for those who faint not. The distance is short, and the recompence of virtue the prize; fear not the ruggedness of the path, nor be discouraged, because the wicked prosper."—But I am forgetting my purpose, Madam, in recalling the last words of my guardian angel!
My brother Oliver's voyage to Jamaica took place soon after my mother's death, and his marriage and final settlement in the island succeeded to these events. In the following year, my father purchased the estate of Tarefield, and giving up his business to my brother, and his old and faithful clerk, retired to the hall. His first sorrow for my mother's loss, was so violent as to give us fears for his life. His constitution was shaken by a fever of some danger and duration. On recovering from this peril, I could not help perceiving that the gloom which hung on his spirits, was tending to that state of discontent which invariably precludes all the "uses of adversity." Accustomed to seek, in the cheerful and conciliating temper of my mother, a relief in all the little petulancy of his own unequal disposition, he lamented her loss without ceasing, as a convenience, rather than a blessing, which he had seen torn from him. Lucretia, with unremitting attention, endeavoured to regulate his domestic comforts. Mary alone possessed the power to calm and compose his fretful hours; she was indulged as a child, in return for her tender solicitude to amuse and please him. I was useful to him in no way, and sunk into a cypher.
My father, in his sorrow, had forgotten to lament the loss of that benign influence, which had so skilfully counteracted the encroachments of avarice. Left to his natural bias, these soon appeared, and Lucretia failed not to make an advantage of a weakness which her mother had checked and restrained. Every reform in the expences of the family met with approbation, and my father insensibly gave his confidence "to his excellent manager." I silently submitted to the new order of things. The time approached for my emancipation from the restraints of my father's house; I had taken my degrees, and wished to pass one term more at the university, before I solicited my ordination. I spoke to my father on the subject, explaining to him my motives for the request I urged. "I have withdrawn your name from the college books," said he, "more than a week since. I see no good that can result from your losing your time, and spending my money there." I ventured to remonstrate, urged my disappointment, and added, that I had not been idle, but had worked both for honour and independence. "Pray, Sir," asked he with a sneer, "how much did you expect to make yearly, of your learned labours?" "Even in deacon's orders," replied I, cut to the very soul, "I might have eaten my own bread, and gratified my love of learning."—"That you may do here," replied he roughly, "by being Mary's schoolmaster; and at my table, with forty pounds per annum, I presume you will be as well off as with a curacy." My mother's blessed spirit saved me from uttering the reproaches which were on my lips. I remembered her dying advice, I bowed, and was retiring. "Hark ye, Sir!" cried he, "I see I have offended your classical pride, but you ought to remember, that I never wished to see you brought up in idleness. It was your mother's pleasure to see you the gentleman of the family. I always told her, I would not buy you a living: earn one, as I have done before you. Go to your brother Oliver, and he will teach you a better trade than that of a country curate. I will send you in the next ship, and then do something for you that will not be lost should you die: so you have time to consider of my offer, and to study your multiplication table into the bargain." I bowed, and said, "that my part required no time for a resolution: I was not educated for commerce; nor should I go to Jamaica; but I should consider that time well employed, which was devoted to Mary's improvement: for the rest, I relied on his goodness and favour." "As you please," answered he, somewhat softened: "at least, you will be useful, and you will have no wants under my roof." I bowed, and was permitted to retire. Lucretia exulted in this my defeat; but I kept my temper. Mary with delight, now listened to my plans of instruction. Young as she was, she entered into my vexations. "Be but contented here," said she, "and I shall be happy. My father's love is not yet diverted from his plaything; leave me to manage, you shall be comfortable." Every device which innocence and affection could suggest, was now practised in her playful hours with her doating father. She could not study in the common parlour, she should never think herself at school. My father ordered Mr. Percival to choose his own apartment; and a room was dignified with the name of my study. It were endless to enumerate the means this "spoiled child," to use Miss Flint's epithet, employed to lesson the mortifying circumstances of my situation. Her winning smiles, her sweet persuasions, her playful vivacity, had in appearance but one stimulus;—my ease and comfort. She rode on horseback, because this produced a horse for Percival's use, who was to attend her. She loved only what he preferred at table, and even in her application to my lessons, she was excited by the desire of serving me. My father soon discovered by Mary's proficiency in arithmetic and writing, that her schoolmaster was not ignorant in the multiplication table; and I, satisfied with my dear pupil's improvement, and gratified by her affection, became more reconciled to my situation. Mary's age, when in her seventeenth year, produced her a new title. "The spoiled child" was dismissed for "the idle girl," and lectures on the loss of time were not spared. With serious remembrance of my mother's too prophetic words, I laboured incessantly to implant in my lovely sister those principles of conduct, which in female life, particularly, are of more worth than all the learning of the schools. The regulation of her heart, and the strengthening her judgment, neither deprived her of her native simplicity, nor diverted her attention from the occupations of her sex. She continued to be my father's source of joy and comfort; and with a temper and an address, which it must be confessed, peculiarly marks the fair sex, and which, when employed as Heaven intended, renders a woman irresistible, she converted at her pleasure, the ungracious refusal into kindness, gloom into social content, and fretful complainings into laughter and delight. One triumph of this angel in form and mind, I cannot omit. She had by her innocent exertions to please her father, persuaded him, that at seventeen years of age, it was time for her to begin to economize her own little purse. "It is now three months since I was as old as my sister, when she had her regular allowance," added she, "and it would be the means of making me more careful and industrious, like Lucretia, had I the management of my clothes and expences. My dear mother used to say," continued she, changing her seat for my father's knee, as though sensible that she could thus more successfully transpose into his bosom a portion of that benevolence which warmed her own, "that nothing was more useful to a girl, than committing to her care the annual sum requisite to her expences. The pleasure of saving a trifle for some favourite poor child, or an indigent widow, excited their personal frugality: the attention it called out to little things, and the habits of order it promoted, were of the most important use to a young woman, who, living with good and tender parents, without wants, and void of cares, was in danger of becoming ignorant of the value of money, and heedless. I know I should manage my own affairs admirably," added she, fondly kissing him, "for you see that I have not forgotten my dear mother's lessons, nor her example." My father, subdued by this appeal, and softened by caresses so artfully, but seasonably bestowed, immediately gave her twenty guineas. She gratefully received them, and with bewitching grace and gaiety, wrote him in much form, an acquittance. He laughed, but was not displeased with her accuracy. "If," said he, "you can keep your accounts as well as you have done this, you will be fit for a merchant's wife in time."—"Never fear," cried she, "you shall see how expert I am: I will first pay my debts, and then keep day-book and ledger of what remains." My father, surprised, asked what debts she could probably have incurred. "They are those," replied she, "not only of gratitude, but of justice: my brother Percival has purchased books for my use, which he needed not for his own, and I know he wishes to enlarge his little store, but has not the means. Have I my dear and tender father's permission to share with him this his bounty? I shall have sufficient remaining." Conscience, or nature, seconded the sweet pleader. He gave her a note for five and twenty pounds for me, and finished by saying, "you may as well say nothing of this to your sister." Never shall I forget her transports when she related this incident to me. "Take it," said she, pushing the whole sum toward me, "take it as the first fruits of that affection, which my father will soon shew you. Oh! if he were but left to his own goodness of heart! how happy should we be, and how happy would he be himself! But have courage, my dear Percival, we shall succeed, for we will merit his love; and he will be just." I received my present with more contentment of heart than I can express; and Mary begged I would be her purse-bearer for the greater part of her treasure, adding, that she had no other means of securing it from her sister's enquiry, who took upon her to examine her drawers at her pleasure.
CHAP. V.