Original Stories from Real Life/Chapter 12
CHAP. XII.
Behaviour to Servants.—True Dignity of Character.
THE children not coming down to breakfaſt one morning at the usual time, Mrs. Maſon went herſelf to enquire the reaſon; and as ſhe entered the apartment, heard Mary ſay to the maid who aſſiſted her, I wonder at your impertinence, to talk thus to me—do you know who you are ſpeaking to?—ſhe was going on; but Mrs. Maſon interrupted her, and anſwered the queſtion—to a little girl, who is only aſſiſted becauſe ſhe is weak. Mary ſhrunk back abaſhed, and Mrs. Maſon continued; as you have treated Betty, who is ten years older than yourſelf, improperly, you muſt now do every thing for yourſelf; and, as you will be ſome time about it, Caroline and I will eat our breakfaſt, and viſit Mrs. Trueman. By the time we return, you may perhaps have recollected that children are inferior to ſervants, who act from the dictates of reaſon, and whoſe underſtandings are arrived at ſome degree of maturity, while children muſt be governed and directed till their's gains ſtrength to work by itſelf: for it is the proper exerciſe of our reaſon that makes us in any degree independent.
When Mrs. Maſon returned, ſhe mildly addreſſed Mary. I have often told you that every diſpenſation of Providence tended to our improvement, if we do not perverſely act contrary to our intereſt. One being is made dependent on another, that love and forbearance may ſoften the human heart, and that linked together by neceſſity, and the exerciſe of the ſocial affections, the whole family on earth might have a fellowfeeling for each other. By theſe means we improve one another; but there is no real inferiority.
You have read the fable of the head ſuppoſing itſelf ſuperior to the reſt of the members, though all are equally neceſſary to the ſupport of life. If I behave improperly to ſervants, I am really their inferior, as I abuſe a truſt, and imitate not the Being, whose ſervant I am, without a ſhadow of equality. Children are helpleſs. I order my ſervants to wait on you, becauſe you are ſo; but I have not as much reſpect for you as for them; you may poſſibly become a virtuous character.—Many of my ſervants are really ſo already; they have done their duty, filled an humble ſtation, as they ought to fill it, conſcientiouſly. And do you dare to deſpiſe thoſe whom your Creator approves?
Before the greateſt earthly beings I ſhould not be awed, they are my fellow ſervants; and, though ſuperior in rank, which, like perſonal beauty, only dazzles the vulgar; yet I may poſſeſs more knowledge and virtue. The ſame feeling actuates me when I am in company with the poor; we are creatures of the ſame nature, and I may be their inferior in thoſe graces which ſhould adorn my soul, and render me truly great.
How often muſt I repeat to you, that a child is inferior to a man; becauſe reaſon is in its infancy, and it is reaſon which exalts a man above a brute; and the cultivation of it raiſes the wiſe man above the ignorant; for wiſdom is only another name for virtue.
This morning, when I entered your apartment, I heard you inſult a worthy servant. You had juſt ſaid your prayers; but they muſt have been only the gabble of the tongue; your heart was not engaged in the ſacred employment, or you could not ſo ſoon have forgotten that you were a weak, dependent being, and that you were to receive mercy and kindneſs only on the condition of your practiſing the ſame.
I adviſe you to aſk Betty to pardon your impertinence; till you do ſo, ſhe ſhall not aſſiſt you; you would find yourself very helpleſs without the aſſiſtance of men and women—unable to cook your meat, bake your bread, waſh your clothes, or even put them on—ſuch a helpleſs creature is a child—I know what you are, you perceive.
Mary ſubmitted—and in future after ſhe ſaid her prayers, remembered that ſhe was to endeavour to curb her temper.