Christian life; Great Britain -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Young women -- Conduct of life -- Fiction
I know not whether it was owing to the carelessness of nurses, or the
depravity of waiting-maids, or whether, 'to say all, nature herself
wrought in me so'; but, from the earliest period of my recollection, I
furnished an instance at least, if not a proof, of the corruption of
human kind; being proud, petulant, and rebellious. Some will probably
think the growth of such propensities no more unaccountable than that of
briars and thorns; being prepared, from their own experience and
observation, to expect that both should spring without any particular
culture. But whoever is dissatisfied with this compendious deduction,
may trace my faults to certain accidents in my early education.
I was, of course, a person of infinite importance to my mother. While
she was present, her eye followed my every motion, and watched every
turn of my countenance. Anxious to anticipate every wish, and vigilant
to relieve every difficulty, she never thought of allowing me to pay the
natural penalties of impatience or self-indulgence. If one servant was
driven away by my caprice, another attended my bidding. If my toys were
demolished, new baubles were ready at my call. Even when my mother was
reluctantly obliged to testify displeasure, her coldness quickly yielded
to my tears; and I early discovered, that I had only to persevere in the
demonstrations of obstinate sorrow, in order to obtain all the
privileges of the party offended. When she was obliged to consign me to
my maid, it was with earnest injunctions that I should be
amused,--injunctions which it every day became more difficult to fulfil.
Her return was always marked by fond inquiries into my proceedings
during her absence; and I must do my attendants the justice to say, that
their replies were quite as favourable as truth would permit. They were
too politic to hazard, at once, my favour and hers, by being officiously
censorious. On the contrary, they knew how to ingratiate themselves, by
rehearsing my witticisms, with such additions and improvements as made
my original property in them rather doubtful. My mother, pleased with
the imposition, usually listened with delight; or, if she suspected the
fraud, was too gentle to repulse it with severity, and too partial
herself, to blame what she ascribed to a kindred partiality. On my
father's return from the counting-house, my double rectified _bon mots_
were commonly repeated to him, in accents low enough to draw my
attention, as to somewhat not intended for my ear, yet so distinct as
not to balk my curiosity. This record of my wit served a triple purpose.
It confirmed my opinion of my own consequence, and of the vast
importance of whatever I was pleased to say or do: it strengthened the
testimony which my mother's visiters bore to my miraculous prematurity;
and it established in my mind that association so favourable to feminine
character, between repartee and applause!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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