EDUCATION. A TALE FROM REAL LIFE. "DEPEN EPEND upon it, my dear brother!" said Lady Leith, "depend upon it, your education has been the cause that you have advanced so little in life. Had our parents been as careful to instil into your mind the other principles of good policy and contrivance, as they were to form your heart to virtue, and your mind to knowledge, you might at the present time have been Archbishop of Canterbury, instead of being Vicar of Holton, with a miserable income of two hundred and fifty pounds a-year." "I endeavour, sister!" replied the respectable old vicar, whose name was Rusby, "to be content: for although my condition is by no means enviable, and I enjoy little beyond the mere necessaries of life, I have escaped from those degrading humiliations and unworthy flatteries which people for the most part are obliged to practise who wish to rise from inferior to high situations. I differ, however, materially from you in opinion. I believe that no instruction from my parents could have made me a man of the world. My natural disposition is of a retired and studious character, which is probably the result of some inherent quality of the corporeal functions, that instruction could not alter." "Be that as it may,” replied Lady Leith, "I hope, however, that you do not intend to educate your two children in the same manner, as you were educated." "Why not," replied Mr. Rusby; "I shall teach them to be virtuous and intelligent, and leave the rest to Providence." "You had better, my good brother!" said Lady Leith, "purchase a ladder; and placing it before your children's eyes, bid them regard it as an emblem of the world. Exhort them to fix their eyes upon the top, hold fast by their hands, direct their feet well, and strive with all their force to ascend, and in all probability they will make quick progress towards the summit. "If they do not fall and break their necks," said Mr. Rusby. "It were better to do that," said Lady Leith, "than remain at the bottom of the ladder all their days. Take it from me, as an axiom, brother; that ambition is a natural passion of the human heart, the absence of which in any bosom renders life insipid. After the playfulness of childhood, and the dalliance of youth are past, we must have some powerful impulse to keep us from sinking into absolute languor." "I do not see the necessity of that impulse," replied My Rusby. "We may be more happy by limiting than by extending our views. There are many innocent and agreeable ways of rendering life pleasurable, without resorting to such powerful stimulants as ambition." "I suppose," said Lady Leith, "you mean such means of happiness as are to be derived from reading, planting, gardening, drawing, and other languid and inert occupations, which disappointed or feeble characters are apt to resort to, when the moments hang heavily upon their hands. Dioclesian and Charles the Fifth, I remember, planted cabbages, and studied mechanics, as poor substitutes for the nobler pursuits of ambition: Lord Bolingbroke in a moment of petulance and disappointed ambition professed to turn farmer. Swift amused himself in low society, and low poetry. These pursuits, however, were merely adopted as amusements which constant occupation had rendered necessary, not as occupations which natural choice or taste bade them cultivate." "Those men," said Mr. Rusby, "would have been much happier, if their views had been more moderate, and their ambition less. Dioclesian and Charles the Fifth, resorted to innocent amusements after they had been surfeited with glory, as if their hearts had been sick of the vanity of glory, and sighed for things of a softer and less pernicious character. Bolingbroke and Swift were justly punished for the restless ambition of their early lives, by the neglect and misfortunes which fell upon the latter part. Such men have done no good to human society. They neither made themselves nor others happy. More moderate views would have secured them from vexation and disappointment. They might have lived happy and unknown; the admired and beloved friends of a small domestic circle, who might have felt the benevolence of their hearts, and lived unconscious of the extent of their abilities." "I perceive, brother," rejoined Lady Leith, "that your prejudices are inveterate. Your moderation and philosophy may be well suited to your age, and if they merely concerned yourself, might pass without reprehension. But you have two daughters, whom it behoves you to place in the world to the best possible advantage. This cannot be done without exertion on your part to inspire their minds with ambitious views. They have already the germ of future beauty, and the promise of minds capable of great accomplishment and refinement. This beauty, however, must be polished and fashioned according to certain principles adopted in elegant society, and their minds must be taught to derive the greatest advantages from their natural endowments. Nature must be controlled, subdued, if possible, extinguished; and art superinduced. Of all persons in the world, brother, you appear to me to be the least fitted to instruct a young girl in what manner she should lay out her capital of beauty and accomplishment to the best advantage." "I am convinced of the truth of your observation," said Mr. Rusby, "and shall be happy to receive instruction from one who has given such practical illustration of the principles she professes. No person has been more successful in marriage than yourself a husbaud obedient to your wishes, his splendid fortune at your command, and the possession of every comfort and luxury, prove you to have been extremely fortunate, or extremely skilful in forming your marriage." "Attribute my success," said Lady Leith, with an impatient tone, and a movement of the head which indicated hauteur, "to its proper cause, my abilities. You remember the many offers 1 rejected before I could be moved to marry. Sir James Leith was not the youngest, nor the handsomest, nor the most beloved of my admirers, but he was the richest, and the most inclined to obedience and indulgence. I martied him because a thought that such a marriage would be productive of the greatest share of happiness that matrimony is capable of. My plans have been crowned with success; and nothing has been wanting to my felicity but children. I am anxious that your daughters should have the benefit of my instruction and experience. I see clearly that your moderation and confined circumstances will prevent them from enjoying those opportunities of forming acquaintance with people of rank, or of being brought forward under such circumstances, and at such times as may enable them to marry advantageously. I therefore wish you to confide the care of their education to me. The ample fortune of Sir James can well provide them with those external accomplishments and attractions, which are all in all in the present state of society; and a few thousands spared from his immense fortune will not be felt as a loss by his nephew, whom he has constituted his heir." "I cannot," said Mr. Rusby, "part with both my children. That were too great a sacrifice to make. You shall have one-the other shall remain with me." "Well! well!" said Lady Leith, "I will not endeavor to prevail on you to yield up both your children notwithstanding I am conscious that it would be greatly to the advantage of both. I have felt too severely the want of children myself, to be insensible to that affection which dreads the entire loss of them." This conversation between Lady Leith and her brother, Mr. Rusby, took place during a short visit which she made at Harlton Parsonage, the residence of the worthy vicar. The result of this conversation was an un- directing those ambitious and selfish derstanding that Lady Leith should adopt the eldest daughter of Mr. Rusby, consider her as her own, and have the entire management of her education. It happened fortunately that the favourite daughter of Mr. Rusby was the least acceptable to Lady Leith. She beheld something in the character of Monimia, the eldest, which flattered her hopes of seeing her one day aspire to distinction, by means of an illustrious marriage; and Mr. Rusby thought he discovered in Clara, the youngest, a sweetness of disposition and a nobleness of heart which promised happiness to his declining years. These expectations probably originated in the predilection they preferred. We often imagine in those we love, the qualities which we wish to see. Lady Leith was a being who thought that the happiness and misery of individuals, their success and misfortunes, resulted entirely from their education. By this term we do not mean that school-instruction, which generally goes under the denomination of education, but that more enlarged and useful information by which persons are instructed to make the best use of their natural and acquired advantages, so as to advance in life towards wealth or rank. She was herself an illustration of the principles and doctrines she professed; while her brother, Mr. Rusby, was an example, in her opinion, of an ill-directed and erroneous education. This gentleman and herself were the only children of a respectable tradesman, who thought the best method of promoting their interest in life, was to bestow on them a good education. To this end he sent them both to eminent schools, were they went through the usual routine of scholastic instruction, with credit and approbation. About the age of eighteen, Miss Rusby was committed to the care and superintendence of an aunt, from whom she received much of that useful knowledge which had conducted her so favourably to prosperity. The aunt observing in Miss Rusby, a certain portion of beauty and address, bestowed great pains in cultivating and propensities which are inherent in human nature. She taught her to set a high value on her personal appearance and mental acquirements; to consider an advantageous marriage as the great end of her exertions, and to endeavour to surmount all those feelings of natural and fond affection, which lead astray so many young ladies to the great detriment of their interest. She would occasionally say to her, “Be prudent in forming attachments. Eve ry happiness in life depends upon a successful marriage. Resist the approach of sentiment, and direct your mind solely to the attainment of an advantageous settlement." These precepts she enforced by examples drawn from life and held up to the observation of her niece, such matches among her acquaintances as presented to her eyes instances of happiness attained through a prudent and careful attention to interest; or of misfortune, resulting from thoughtless and precipitate affection. The young lady being of a character wary and prudent, received the admonitions of her aunt with attention. Her personal charms and accomplishments soon attracted the assiduities of some young suitors, but as their rank and fortune in life were inferior to her expectations, she had the prudence to resist their offers, and reserve herself for a more exalted destiny. In proportion as she advanced in age, she grew more obstinate in her adher ence to her aspiring intentions, and her beauty was already on the decline, and the admiration of her suitors waxing cold and negligent, when she happened to meet at Bath, the wealthy Sir James Leith. He was an old bachelor whose youth had been passed in industrious exertion; an exact and regular attention to business, combined with good fortune, had made him rich: riches procured him rank and honours, and he had attained the dignity of Baronet, and was a member of the House of Commons. Miss Rusby was represented to him, as a lady whose manners and accomplishments would do honour to a splendid establishment. Sir James Leith had felt a twinge of the gout: Miss Rusby had seen the roses of her cheeks give way to an incipient sallowness of complexion, which she felt to be hostile to love. Sir James foresaw that he should soon want a nurse: Miss Rusby foresaw that she should soon want lovers. He proposed, and she instantly accepted. The conduct of Mr. Rusby had been of a different description. He had no sooner left college and was possessed of a small living purchased for him by his father, than he followed the propensities of his heart, and fell in love with a beautiful girl, whose whole fortune consisted in the elegance and simplicity of her character, great sweetness of disposition, and a heart which was rich beyond estimation in every mild and affectionate feeling. Their attachment was soon followed by marriage; and as their means were limited, they were constrained not less by necessity than by choice, to cultivate all their sweet and simple pleasures in a domestic country life; which persons of wealth are apt to disregard. Content with the society of each other, and those recreations which are derived from books and rational amusements, they lived unmindful of the world, its bustle and its passions. Their life was love, and the history of their days a series of sweet and reciprocal instances of a profound and uninterrupted attachment. The union which made them happy, was not permanent, for after a few years of perfect felicity, Mrs. Rusby was separated from her husband by an untimely death, leaving him the two daughters whom we have mentioned above. The loss of a wife in whom all his felicity was centred, annihilated for a time the happiness and exertion of Mr. Rusby, and a year elapsed before he recovered that composure of heart and peace of mind which enabled him to devote his attention to domestic concerns, the duties of his profession, and the welfare of his children. In proportion as his grief settled into a milder recollection of his lost wife, he began to fix his mind on the characters of his children, and to exert himself by administering to their instruction and happiness. Their education became a matter to him of 55 ATHENEUM VOL. 2. 2d series. the most important consideration, and he brought the full powers of a clear understanding to bear on that subject. The young creatures were already considerably advanced in knowledge, and had attained, the one to twelve, the other to eleven years of age, when Lady Leith in her visit to Harlton Parsonage, proposed to relieve her brother from all farther solicitude about the the welfare of his daughters, by taking upon herself the expense and care of their education. If Mr. Rusby had been rich he would have refused all interference on the part of Lady Leith in the education of his daughters, for he thought the principles of that lady might be injurious to the simplicity of character which he so much admired, and which he was anxious to preserve. He did not suppose her capable of instilling into their minds opinions or feelings which might be detrimental to their virtue, but he feared that her instruction might inspire them with too exalted ideas of their own importance, an inordinate love of wealth, and ambitious intentions, which through disappointment might end in misery. In a short time after the arrangement had been made for Monimia to reside with Lady Leith, they both took leave of Mr. Rusby, and returned forthwith to London. Her father felt severely the loss of his child. Her adoption by his sister appeared to him little short of an entire separation. On the other hand, the young girl who had never before quitted home, was pleased with the prospect of the new scenes she was about to see. In quitting her father and sister she felt a momentary anguish, which was soon dissipated by the variety of novel objects which she beheld on their journey towards London. On their arrival in town, the carriage proceeded immediately to Sir James Leith's mansion in Portman Square. Monimia accustomed from her infancy to the humble dwelling of her father, and never having seen any house more splendidly furnished, nor rooms of larger dimension than those which she had been accustomed to see at Halton Parsonage, beheld with great astonishment the superb mansion of her uncle. A feeling of contempt, (the first emotion of the kind which had ever entered her young heart,) arose from the comparison which she made between the different situations of her poor and humble father, and the proud and wealthy Sir James Leith. to serve. Lady Leith in a short time began her course of experimental instruction on the heart and mind of the young Monimia. She sought out a governess whose conduct would be a pattern from whence her niece might learn to dress herself. After considerable search, she discovered in a young French woman those artificial manners, and that happy tact of character, which accommodate themselves with facility to the opinions and habits of those persons whom it is their interest She had sufficient knowledge to instruct in the rudiments of languages, geography, and music, but a perfect mistress in the art of dissimulation. She had a language, a courtesy, a smile, for every distinct variety of the human species. Her distance and courtly pride towards the servants were not less remarkable than her extreme obsequiousness and humble deference to Lady Leith, and she gained almost immediately after her introduction into the house, the respect of the prudent and circumspect Sir James, the deference and assiduous notice of that gentleman's nephew, the presumptive heir of his property, and the fond attachment of Monimia. Under the auspices and tuition of two such able performers as were Lady Leith and Mademoiselle Artifice, the young Monimia made regular advances towards refinement. By degrees they pruned away those exuberant shoots of infantile feeling which are thought by the cultivators of the human mind to weaken the parent stem. Step by step she was taught to speak, smile, walk, sit, rise, dress, eat, only with the design of captivating attention by those acts, and she became mannered even to the putting on of a glove, or the position and arrangement of her fingers. The poverty of her father, (which in her infancy, and while she lived at home, showed like prosperity, when compared to the more humble circumstances of the greater part of the parishioners of Halton,) became as she advanced in years a source of shame and repug nance. She heard at the wealthy table of Sir James so much in praise of the riches of fortunate individuals, and so few comments upon virtue and abilities, that she gradually imbibed that opinion so prevalent in the mercantile world, that wealth is the criterion of excellence. Whenever a desire to sɛe his daughter called Mr. Rusby up to London, Monimia suffered a great deal of uneasiness and shame at the thought of being obliged to appear in public with him: and upon one occasion ber feelings were wrought up to a high state of torture, when she was asked by an intimate friend, "who those queer people were, that sat in Sir James's box at the Opera." She dexterously escaped the shame which this question might have brought upon her, by saying "that she understood they were people of immense estates in Lancashire, but who had never been in London before." She was at one time exceedingly disconcerted by the following question from a young girl. "Pray, Miss Rusby, have you any relations except Sir James and Lady Leith, for I never hear you mention them?" This question she parried, by turning her head away and covering her face with her hand, as if some agonizing recollections had been called up, and her young friend supposing that she was agitated by the remem brance of the loss of her relatives dropt the subject and never again resumed it. It has generally been found by those who have elevated their pupils to ambitious views, that their plans have ran a greater risk of being counteracted by the passion of love than by any other feeling, and Lady Leith, conscious how difficult it is to dispos sess that sentiment when it has once gained an entrance, made it her chief endeavour to guard against its approach. Her caution was so particular, that having once observed her niece blush when the name of a young man, who was very handsome but very |