The Governess; Or, The Little Female Academy Part 12

Thus reproved, the parrot, with shame, hastily retired from the a.s.sembly.

Next stood forth the daw, and, having tricked himself in all the gay feathers he could muster together, on the credit of these borrowed ornaments, pleaded his beauty, as a t.i.tle to the preference in dispute.

Immediately the birds agreed to divest the silly counterfeit of all his borrowed plumes; and, more abashed than the parrot, he secretly slunk away.

The peac.o.c.k, proud of native beauty, now flew into the midst of the a.s.sembly. He displayed before the sun his gorgeous tail. 'Observe (said he) how the vivid blue of the sapphire glitters in my neck; and when thus I spread my tail, a gemmy brightness strikes the eye from a plumage varied with a thousand glowing colours.' At this moment, a nightingale began to chant forth his melodious lay; at which the peac.o.c.k, dropping his expanded tail, cried out, 'Ah what avails my silent unmeaning beauty, when I am so far excelled in voice by such a little russet-feathered wretch as that!' And, by retiring, he gave up all claim to the contended-for preference.

The nightingale was so delighted with having got the better of the peac.o.c.k, that he exerted his little voice, and was so lost in the conceit of his own melody, that he did not observe a hawk, who flew upon him, and carried him off in his claws.

The eagle then declared, 'That as the peac.o.c.k's envy had taken away all his claim, so no less had the nightingale's self-conceit frustrated all his pretensions; for those who are so wrapped up in their own perfections, as to mind nothing but themselves, are forever liable to all sorts of accidents.' And, besides, it was plain, by the exultation the nightingale expressed on his imagined glory over the peac.o.c.k, that he would have been equally dejected on any preference given to another.

And now the owl, with an affected gravity, and whooting voice, pleaded his well-known wisdom; and said, 'He doubted not but the preference would be granted to him without contest, by all the whole a.s.sembly for what was so likely to produce happiness as wisdom?'

The eagle declared, 'That, if his t.i.tle to wisdom could be proved, the justice of his claim should be allowed; and then asked him, how he could convince them of the truth of what he had advanced?' The owl answered, 'That he would willingly appeal to the whole a.s.sembly for their decision in this point; for he was positive n.o.body could deny his great superiority as to wisdom.' Being separately asked, they most of them declared, that they knew no one reason, either from his words or actions, to p.r.o.nounce him a wise bird; though it was true, that by an affected solemnity in his looks, and by frequent declarations of his own, that he was very wife, he had made some very silly birds give him that character; but, since they were called upon to declare their opinions, they must say, that he was ever the object of contempt to all those birds who had any t.i.tle to common understanding. The eagle then said, 'He could by no means admit a plea, which as plainly appeared to be counterfeit, as were the jay's borrowed feathers.' The owl, thus disappointed, flew away, and has ever since shunned the light of the sun, and has never appeared in the daytime, but to be scorned and wondered at.

It would be endless to repeat all the several pleas brought by the birds, each desiring to prove, that happiness ought to be his own peculiar lot. But the eagle observing that the arguments made use of to prove their point were chiefly drawn from the disadvantages of others, rather than from any advantage of their own, told them, 'There was too much envy and malice amongst them, for him to p.r.o.nounce any of them deserving or capable of being happy; but I wonder,' says he, 'why the dove alone is absent from this meeting?' 'I know of one in her nest hard by,' answered the redbreast, 'shall I go and call her?' 'No,' says the eagle, 'since she did not obey our general summons, 'tis plain she had no ambition for a public preference; but I will take two or three chosen friends, and we will go softly to her nest, and see in what manner she is employing herself; for from our own observations upon the actions of any one, we are more likely to form a judgment of them, than by any boasts they can make.'

The eagle was obeyed, and, accompanied only by the linnet, the lark, the lapwing, and the redbreast for his guide, he stole gently to the place where the dove was found hovering over her nest, waiting the return of her absent mate; and, thinking herself quite un.o.bserved,

[*] While o'er her callow brood she hung, She fondly thus address'd her young: 'Ye tender objects of my care, Peace! peace! ye little helpless pair.

Anon! he comes, your gentle sire, And brings you all your hearts require; For us, his infants and his bride, For us, with only love to guide, Our lord a.s.sumes an eagle's speed, And, like a lion, dares to bleed: Nor yet by wintry skies confin'd, He mounts upon the rudest wind, From danger tears the vital spoil, And with affection sweetens toil.

Ah! cease, too vent'rous, cease to dare; In thine, our dearer safety spare.

From him, ye cruel falcons stray; And turn, ye fowlers, far away, --All-giving Pow'r, great source of life, Oh! hear the parent, hear the wife: That life thou lendest from above, Though little, make it large in love.

Oh! bid my feeling heart expand To ev'ry claim on ev'ry hand, To those, from whom my days I drew, To these in whom those days renew, To all my kin, however wide, In cordial warmth as blood allied.

To friends in steely fetters twin'd And to the cruel not unkind; But chief the lord of my desire, My life, myself, my soul, my sire, Friends, children, all that wish can claim, Chaste pa.s.sion clasp, and rapture name.

Oh! spare him, spare him, gracious Pow'r: Oh! give him to my latest hour, Let me my length of life employ, To give my sole enjoyment joy.

His love let mutual love excite; Turn all my cares to his delight, And ev'ry needless blessing spare, Wherein my darling wants a share.

--Let one unruffled calm delight The loving and belov'd unite; One pure desire our bosoms warm; One will direct, one wish inform; Through life one mutual aid sustain; In death one peaceful grave contain.'

While, swelling with the darling theme, Her accents pour'd an endless stream.

The well-known wings a sound impart That reach'd her ear, and touch'd her heart.

Quick dropp'd the music of her tongue, And forth, with eager joy, she sprung.

As swift her ent'ring consort flew, And plum'd, and kindled at the view.

Their wings, their souls, embracing, meet, Their hearts with answ'ring measure beat, Half lost in sacred sweets, and bless'd With raptures felt, but ne'er express'd.

Strait to her humble roof she led The partner of her spotless bed; Her young, a flutt'ring pair, arise, Their welcome sparkling in their eyes, Transported, to their sire they bound, And hang, with speechless action, round.

In pleasure wrapt, the parents stand, And see their little wings expand; The sire his life sustaining prize To each expecting bill applies; There fondly pours the wheaten spoil, With transport giv'n, though won with toil; While, all collected at the sight, And silent through supreme delight, The fair high heav'n of bliss beguiles, And on her lord and infants smiles.

[*] These verses are a quotation from that tender fable of the Sparrow and the Dove, in the 'Fables for the Female s.e.x.'

The eagle now, without any hesitation, p.r.o.nounced the dove to be deservedly the happiest of the feathered kind; and however unwilling the rest of the birds were to a.s.sent to the judgment given, yet could they not dispute the justice of the decree.

Here Miss Jenny ceased reading, and all the little company expressed by their looks, that they were overjoyed at the eagle's determination; for they had all in their own minds forestalled the eagle's judgment, of giving the preference to the dove. 'Now, my good children,' said Mrs.

Teachum, 'if you will pa.s.s through this life with real pleasure, imitate the dove; and remember, that innocence of mind, and integrity of heart, adorn the female character, and can alone produce your own happiness, and diffuse it to all around you.'

Our little company thanked their governess for her fable; and, just at that instant, they heard a chariot drive into the court, and Mrs.

Teachum went out to see what visitor could be arrived so late in the evening; for it was near eight o'clock.

They all remained in the room where their governess left them; for they had been taught never to run out to the door, or to the windows, to look at any strangers that came, till they knew whether it was proper for them to see them or not.

Mrs. Teachum soon returned with a letter open in her hand, and remained some little time silent; but cast on every one round such a tender and affectionate look, a tear almost starting from her eye, that the sympathising sorrow seemed to spread through the whole company, and they were all silent, and ready to cry, though they knew not for what reason.

'I am sorry, my little dears,' said Mrs. Teachum, 'to give your tender bosoms the uneasiness I fear the contents of this letter will do, as it will deprive you of that your hearts so justly hold most dear.' And, so saying, she delivered to Miss Jenny Peace, the following letter:--

'To Miss Jenny Peace.

'Monday night, June 24.

'My dear niece,--I arrived safe at my own house, with your cousin Harriet, last Sat.u.r.day night, after a very tedious voyage by sea, and a fatiguing journey by land. I long to see my dear Jenny as soon as possible, and Harriet is quite impatient for that pleasure.

'I have ordered my chariot to be with you tomorrow night; and I desire you would set out on Wednesday morning, as early as your inclination shall prompt you to come to

'Your truly affectionate aunt,

'M. NEWMAN.

'I have writ a letter of thanks to your kind governess, for her care of you.'

It is impossible to describe the various sensations of Miss Jenny's mind, on the reading this letter. Her rising joy at the thoughts of seeing her kind aunt safely returned from a long and tedious voyage, was suppressed by a sorrow, which could not be resisted, on parting with such dear friends, and so good a governess; and the l.u.s.tre which such a joy would have given to her eye, was damped by rising tears. Her heart for some time was too full for utterance. At last, turning to her governess, she said, 'And is the chariot really come, to carry me to my dear aunt?' Then, after a pause, the tears trickling down her cheeks, 'And must I so soon leave you, madam, and all my kind companions?' Mrs.

Teachum, on seeing Miss Jenny's tender struggles of mind, and all her companions at once bursting into tears, stood up, and left the room, saying, 'She would come to them again after supper.' For this prudent woman well knew, that it was in vain to contend with the very first emotions of grief on such an occasion, but intended, at her return, to show them how much it was their duty and interest to conquer all sorts of extravagant sorrow.

They remained some time silent, as quite struck dumb with concern, till at last Miss Dolly Friendly, in broken accents, cried out, 'And must we lose you, my dear Miss Jenny, now we are just settled in that love and esteem for you, which your goodness so well deserves?'

Miss Jenny endeavoured to dry up her tears, and then said, 'Although I cannot but be pleased, my dear companions, at every mark of your affection for me; yet I beg that you would not give me the pain to see that I make so many dear friends unhappy. Let us submit cheerfully to this separation (which, believe me, is as deeply felt by me as any of you) because it is our duty so to do; and let me entreat you to be comforted, by reflecting, how much my good aunt's safe return must be conducive to my future welfare; nor can you be unhappy, while you continue with so good a governess, and persist in that readiness to obey her, which you have lately shown. She will direct who shall preside over your innocent amus.e.m.e.nts in my place. I will certainly write to you, and shall always take the greatest delight in hearing from each of you, both while you continue here, and when your duty and different connections shall call you elsewhere. We may some, and perhaps all, of us, happen often to meet again; and I hope a friends.h.i.+p, founded on so innocent and so good a foundation as ours is, will always subsist, as far as shall be consistent with our future situations in life.'

Miss Jenny's friends could not answer her but by sobs and tears; only little Polly Suckling, running to her, clung about her neck, and cried, 'Indeed, indeed, Miss Jenny, you must not go; I shall break my heart, if I lose you: sure we shan't, nor we can't, be half so happy, when you are gone, though our governess was ten times better to us than she is.'

Miss Jenny again entreated them to dry up their tears, and to be more contented with the present necessity; and begged, that they would not let their governess see them so overwhelmed in sorrow on her return; for she might take it unkindly, that they should be so afflicted at the loss of one person, while they still remained under her indulgent care and protection.

It was with the utmost difficulty, that Miss Jenny refrained from shedding tear for tear with her kind companions; but as it was her constant maxim to partake with her friends all her pleasure, and to confine her sorrows as much as possible within her own bosom, she chose rather to endeavour, by her own cheerfulness and innocent talk, to steal insensibly from the bosoms of her little companions half their sorrow; and they begin to appear tolerably easy.

After supper, Mrs. Teachum returned; and, seeing them all striving who should most conceal their grief, for fear of giving uneasiness to the rest, yet with a deep dejection fixed in every countenance, and little Polly still sobbing behind Miss Jenny's chair, she was so moved herself with the affecting scene, that the tears stole from her eyes; and the sympathising company once more eased their almost bursting hearts, by another general flow of melting sorrow.

'My dear children,' said Mrs. Teachum, 'I am not at all surprised at your being so much concerned to part with Miss Jenny. I love her myself with a motherly affection (as I do all of you, and shall ever continue to do so while you so well deserve it); and I could wish, for my own sake, never to part with her as long as I live; but I consider, that it is for her advantage, and I would have you all remember, in her absence, to let her example and friends.h.i.+p fill your hearts with joy, instead of grief. It is now pretty late in the evening, and as Miss Jenny is to set out very early in the morning, I must insist upon shortening your pain (for such is your present situation), and desire you would take your leave of this your engaging friend.'

They none of them attempted to speak another word, for their hearts were still too full for utterance; and Miss Jenny took every one by the hand as they went out of the room, saluted them with the tenderest affection, mingling tears with those which flowed from every streaming eye; and, wis.h.i.+ng them all happiness and joy till their next meeting, they all, with heavy hearts, retired to rest.

Miss Jenny returned the warmest and most grateful acknowledgments to her good governess, for all her care of her; and said, 'I shall attribute every happy hour, madam, that I may hereafter be blessed with, to your wise and kind instruction, which I shall always remember with the highest veneration, and shall ever consider you as having been to me no less than a fond and indulgent mother.'

Mrs. Teachum kept Miss Jenny in the room with her no longer than to a.s.sure her how sincerely she should regret her absence, and confessed how much of the regularity and harmony of her school she owed to her good example, for sweetness of temper, and conformity to rules.

THE END OF THE NINTH DAY.