CHAPTER V.
From this time, Matilda felt as if her heart was lightened of a heavy load,and she looked up to Mr. and Mrs. Harewood as friends, whom it was her dutyto obey and her privilege to love; and to the children, as brothers, whosepleasures were as dear to her as her own; and the warmth and openness ofher temper naturally led her to display more than usual friendship,wherever she professed it at all. Happily, with all her faults, she wasneither mean, artful, nor deceitful; so that the worst part of herdisposition lay open to the observation of those good friends, who, likeskilful physicians, only wounded to cure her.
The errors of Matilda were those which never fail to attach to extremeindulgence--pride, impetuosity, haughtiness, insolence, and idleness.Accustomed to consider all around her as born for her use and amusement,she commanded where she should have entreated, and resisted where she oughtto have obeyed; but when she found that her wealth, power, and consequencewere unknown, or utterly disregarded, and that she could only be esteemedfor her good qualities, even her self-love tended to cure her of heridleness; and instead of drawling out--"Zebby, bring me this," "You fool,fetch me the other," she administered to her own wants, and obtained herwishes at so much less expense than she had once thought possible, thateven her own convenience taught her the wisdom of waiting upon herself.She imputed the change, which could not fail to be remarked, to theclimate--and unquestionably it is more easy and pleasant to be active ina cold country, than a hot one; but her friends were well aware that thechange in her mind was greater than that of her country, and they forwardedthis happy effect, by rendering the studies in which she engaged asdelightful to her as possible, in order that, by prosecuting them, shemight become less liable to rest her happiness on the vain pomp, uselessshow, and tyrannical power, which were wont to delight her.
As, however, all bad habits are slowly eradicated, and it by no meansfollows that even the error we have lamented and acknowledged should be sotorn from the heart that no traces remain, so it would happen, from time totime, that Matilda would fly into violent passions with the servants aroundher, as with her young companions; and even when these were suppressed, shewas apt to give herself airs of importance, and descant on the privilegesshe enjoyed in her own country, where she was fanned when she was hot, byslaves upon their knees, and borne about in a stately palanquin; where themost exquisite fruits were continually presented to court her palate, andthe most costly dresses that money could procure purchased to please her;where every slave trembled at her anger, or rejoiced in her smile; andwhere she would one day return to reign as absolute as an empress.
"Well," said Ellen, one night, as this conversation took place in theplay-room, "I must own I should like to live at Barbadoes for one thing--Ishould like to set all the slaves at liberty, and dress their littlechildren, and make all happy; as to all the other _good_ things and _grand_things, I really think we have quite sufficient of them at home; for Isuppose there are no more books nor charities in your country than ours,Matilda; and surely there can be no greater pleasure in this world, thanreading the 'Parent's Assistant,' and giving clothes and food to poorchildren when they are really hungry and starving?"
"Certainly not," cried Charles; "depend upon it, Ellen, England is thefinest land in the world; and though I should like to see oranges andpine-apples grow, I confess, and the poor slaves at their merry meeting,all dancing away, with their woolly heads and white teeth, as happy asprinces, yet, depend upon it, there is nothing else half so beautiful aswith us. England is unquestionably the most beautiful, excellent, rich,delightful country upon the globe."
As Charles spoke, he fixed his eyes upon Edmund; for although the ardour ofhis spirits rendered him a great dealer in positive assertions, he was yetso conscious of his inferiority in knowledge to his eldest brother, that heseldom felt satisfied with them, unless they were stamped by his brother'sapprobation.
Edmund, in answer to his appealing eye, said--"I am as well convinced asyou can be, Charles, that England combines more advantages than any othercountry, and that we either have in ourselves, or obtain from othercountries, whatever is most worthy of possession; and the two good thingswhich Ellen considers the greatest pleasures of existence, are undoubtedlyto be had here in perfection; but I must own I should like to see Barbadoesprodigiously, for a property which none of you have yet mentioned."
"What, have not _I_ mentioned it?" said Matilda.
"No, Matilda; you have been so much taken up with fine verandas, granddinners, kneeling slaves, luxurious palanquins, orange groves, anddelicious sweetmeats, that you have never once boasted of your pure air,and the glories of your evening sky, where all the planets shine with sucha glowing lustre, that, Mr. Edwards tells us, Venus is there a kind ofmoon, in the light she sheds upon the earth, and those stars which arescarcely to be discerned here, are beheld in that enchanting air as brightas the stars of Orion with us."
"Well," cried Charles, "that must all be because Barbadoes, and the otherWest India islands, are so much nearer the sun, and I cannot say I have anydesire to be in such a hot neighbourhood."
"No, Charles, that is not the reason; for although it is the fact, yet youcannot suppose that their difference can be perceptible, in that respect,to those heavenly bodies which appear to resemble only diamond sparks, fromtheir immense distance. The brilliancy of which I speak arises from thegreater purity of the air: we frequently see objects here through a kind ofveil, which, though too thin to be perceptible, has yet its effect upon allobjects: in some cases it alters, or rather bestows, a colour which doesnot properly belong to them; frequently impairs their form and beauty, butsometimes adds to their sublimity, and invests them with imposinggreatness, proportioned to the obscurity with which they are enveloped."
"I don't understand all that Edmund says," observed Ellen, "but I shouldbe glad to know whether something is not the matter with the sun when itlooks copper-colour like the lid of a stewpan; because in summer-time, Iremember, when we were out in the fields, it used to be bright goldenyellow, so glorious and full of shine, as it were, that looking at it, evenfor a moment, made my eyes ache, and thousands of black and green spots tocome into them."
"My dear Ellen, though you did not understand all the words I used, it isyet plain you did comprehend the sense, as you have brought forward anexample of this effect of the atmosphere, which we all witness every day;the fogs and exhalations through which we view the sun are the cause ofthat dingy appearance you remark: and even in the summer-time, as the sundescends, you may perceive he becomes more and more red and dark as heapproaches the horizon. I have therefore no doubt but the veil, or vapourysubstance, of which I speak, is but a little distance from the earth; for Iobserve, that as the sun rises into the heavens, he grows more brilliantfrom surmounting this veil."
"Did you find this out of yourself, Edmund?"
"I noticed it one day to papa, and he explained it; he told me, too, thatall the beautiful variety of colours which we observe in the setting sunmust be imputed to this cause; he taught me at the same time to distinguishshadows in the water by reflection, and those which are refracted, and manyother things, which rendered me much more delighted with the country than Ihad ever been before, and more fond of dear papa for taking the trouble toinform me."
"Well then," said Ellen, "when we go down to Richmond next summer, you mustexplain every thing to us, and we will love you better than ever, dearEdmund; and I will say the Ode to Eton College to you in my very bestmanner; perhaps Matilda will be able to say it before then, and----"
"Go on, Ellen."
"I want to know--_we_ want to know what it means in that poem, where itsays,
'Grateful Science still adores Her Henry's holy shade.'
What is a holy shade, Edmund?"
"It is a poetical expression, my dear, meaning that we of the present dayare grateful to the founder, Henry the Sixth, who was a religious, andprobably a learned man, although very unfortunate as a king."
"Oh," cried Ellen, "I
remember all about him; he was deposed by Edward theFourth, whose two sons were afterwards murdered in the Tower by theirwicked uncle, Richard the Third."
"I remember _that_," said Matilda, timidly, yet with that kind of pleasurewhich indicated a sense of approaching her superior in knowledge, and beingsensible that this was the only kind of superiority worth possessing.
Scarcely, however, had she spoken, when Charles, throwing himself into atheatrical attitude, exclaimed--"Ay! but do you remember the man thatlooked like _him_--to this same Henry, '_Who drew Priam's curtains in thedead of night, and would have told him half his Troy was burnt?_'"
"No, indeed," said both the girls, staring.
Charles burst into a loud laugh at their innocent surprise at his violentgesticulation and grimace.
"I know what you mean," said Ellen, rather poutingly; "yes, I know it verywell, though I don't choose to talk about things of that kind, because Ihave always been told that none but ignorant and foolish people did so."
"But I entreat you," said Charles, "to tell me what you think I mean, for Iam sure you surprise me now as much as I did you."
"Why, I suppose Henry's holy shade means spirit, and it was that whichdrew Priam's curtains in the dead of night, (or which he thought did,)though it was probably only the housemaid."
Again Charles burst into an immoderate fit of laughter,exclaiming--"Housemaid! admirable! upon my word, Ellen, you have found apersonage in the old king's establishment Homer never thought of."
"I never read Homer," said Ellen, simply.
"No, child, you need not tell us that," continued Charles, most provokinglycontinuing to laugh, until poor Ellen was completely disconcerted, andlooked in the face of Edmund with such an appealing air, that he assumed alook of much more serious remonstrance than was usual as he thus addressedhis brother--"You may laugh as long as you please, sir, but your wholeconduct in this affair has shown so much less knowledge, as well as goodsense, than Ellen herself has displayed, that really I should not wonderif a moment's recollection made you cry as heartily as you now laugh."
"Indeed!" said Charles, suddenly stopping.
"Yes, _indeed_! In the first place, there can be surely no doubt but youand I have read a great deal more than the girls, and could at any timepuzzle and distress them by various quotations; but when they makeinquiries to increase their own stock of knowledge, it is our duty, andought to be our pleasure, to give them information, not confusion, whichyou evidently intended to do; besides, it is rude, almost inhuman, tooppress any person, even by the possession of that which is in itselfpraiseworthy; and as the end of all conversation is, or ought to be,improvement, a person who in any manner checks the spirit of inquiry andfree discussion, hinders that end. We all know that English history is allthat Ellen has dipped into, and in the little she presumed to utter on thesubject, she was perfectly correct; whereas you, in your exhibition ofmore reading, made a palpable error, since Homer names maids repeatedly asbelonging to the palace, and we cannot doubt their being employed as ourhousemaids are, since their offices are often particularized."
"A mighty piece of work, truly," said Charles, "for just quoting two linesof Shakspeare!"
"No, no, Charles, 'tis not for the quotation, but the manner, and youcannot but see yourself how erroneous an idea was taken up in consequence;how often does papa say people can never be too plain and simple, toodownright and unequivocal, in their explanations to children, otherwisethey plant words rather than ideas in their minds, and create a confusionwhich it may take many a year of after-thought to unravel?"
"I was very foolish," said Charles, looking at Ellen with the air of onethat wondered how it had been possible to give pain to that little gentleheart, which sought only to bestow pleasure on all around it. He was aboutto speak, but before he had time, his fond sister had read his heart, andthrowing her arms around his neck, she exclaimed--"I know you meantnothing, dear Charles; no, I know you didn't; only you are so fond ofbeing funny."
The eyes of Charles did indeed now twinkle with a tear; and Matilda, whowas quick to discern, and acute in all her feelings, was much affected.When they retired, she revolved all the conversation in her mind; she sawclearly that virtue and knowledge were the only passports to happiness; andthe remembrance of her mother's desire to teach her various things, whichshe had either shunned from idleness, or rejected with insolence andill-humour, rose to her mind; and the unhappy indulgence of her fatherappeared to her in far different colours to what she had ever beheld it.She became frequently disturbed, and full of painful reflection; yet sheevidently took much pains in attaining knowledge of the task assigned her,and in conquering those risings of temper which were become inherent in hermind. Notwithstanding her frequent fits of abstraction, in which it wasevident some great grief was uppermost in her mind, yet, as her nature ledher to be communicative, and she was never subject to be sullen, the familydid not press her to reveal her trouble, thinking that at the proper timeshe would repose confidence in them; and accordingly, as she sat one dayalone with Mrs. Harewood, the following conversation took place betweenthem.