Penelope

by William Pitt Scargill

Had sincerity been the readiest road to the patronage and friendship of the great, this question might have been very readily and easily answered. But Penelope knew better than to suppose that any advantage could arise from a direct opposition to the wishes of a patron. Repugnant as she was to the proposal, she dared not to whisper the least syllable of contradiction, on the ground of dislike, to the profession; but after a blush of mortification, which the Countess mistook for a symptom of diffidence, she replied:

“I fear that your ladyship is disposed to estimate rather too highly the humble talents I may possess, and that I shall not answer the expectations which so distinguished patronage might raise.”

The Countess was not altogether pleased with this shadow of an objection; for it seemed to call in question her own discernment. She therefore replied with some quickness:

“I beg your pardon, Miss Primrose: I have usually been considered as something of a judge in these matters; and, if I do not greatly mistake, you are peculiarly qualified for the profession; and, if you would condescend to adopt my recommendation, I will be answerable for its success.”

The Countess, with all her kindness and considerateness, had not the slightest idea that there could be in a young person, situated as Penelope, any feeling of pride or thought of degradation. But pride was in being before titles were invented; and even republics, which, in the arrogance of equality, may repel from their political vocabulary all distinctions of fellow citizens, cannot eradicate pride from the human heart. In a civilized country there is not perhaps an individual to be found who is incapable of the sensation of degradation. Miss Primrose thought it degrading to become a public singer; she felt that it would be publishing to the world that she was not independent. The world cares little about such matters. Right or wrong, however, this feeling took possession of the young lady’s mind; and as pride does not enter the mind by means of reasoning, it will not be expelled by any process of ratiocination. For all this, however, the worthy Countess could make no allowance; and it appeared to her that if a young person were under the necessity of serving her superiors in rank for the sake of maintenance, it signified very little what mode of servitude were applied to.

There was also another consideration which weighed not a little with the Countess, in almost insisting upon Miss Primrose’s adopting the musical profession. Her ladyship was a distinguished patroness, and a most excellent judge of musical talent; and there was a rival patroness who had never yet been able to produce, under her auspices, anything at all equal to Penelope Primrose. The mortification or defeat of a rival is a matter of great moment to minds of every description. Whenever there is the weakness of rivalry there must be of necessity also the vanity of triumph, and to that occasionally much will be sacrificed.

Mrs Greendale, who was present at this discussion, sided most cordially with the Countess; but had the proposal come from any other quarter, in all human probability it would have been resented as an indignity. Penelope was also well aware that it was absolutely necessary that she should leave the asylum in which so many of her few days had been spent, and she therefore, with as good a grace as her feelings permitted, gave assent to the proposal which the Countess had made. And thereby her generous patroness was softened.

The discussion of this question occupied no inconsiderable portion of time, though we have not thought it necessary to repeat at length the very common-place dialogue which passed on the subject. Our readers must have very languid imaginations if they cannot supply the omission for themselves. Suffice it to say, that the arguments used by the Countess of Smatterton were much stronger than the objections which arose in the mind of Penelope Primrose; and the consideration of these arguments, backed by the reflection that she had no other immediately available resource, determined the dependent one to acquiesce in that which her soul abhorred. It was all very true, as the amiable Countess observed, that an occupation which introduced the person so employed to the notice and into the saloons of the nobility, could not be essentially degrading; it was also very true that there could be no moral objection to a profession which had been ornamented by some of the purest and most virtuous characters. All this was very true; but notwithstanding this and much more than this which was urged by the Countess, still Penelope did not like it. There is no accounting for tastes.

Some young ladies there are who think that, if they should be situated as Penelope was, they would not suffer any inducement to lead them to a compliance with such a proposal. They imagine that no earthly consideration whatever should compel them to that which they abhorred or disapproved. They cannot think that Penelope deserved the title of heroine, if she could thus easily surrender her judgment and bend her will to the dictation of a patroness. But let these young ladies be informed, that in this compliance lay no small portion of the heroism of Penelope’s character. She gained a victory over herself; she did not gratify a pert self-will at the expense of propriety and decorum, and she had no inclination to play the part of a Quixote.

It is an easy thing for a young man to set himself up as independent. The world with all its various occupations is before him. He may engage in as many freaks as suit his fancy; he may dwell and live where and how he pleases; but the case is widely different with a young woman delicately brought up, respectably connected, and desirous of retaining a respectable condition and the countenance of her friends. She is truly dependent, and must oftentimes sacrifice her judgment and feelings to avoid more serious and important sacrifices.