26 THE STORY OF THE TAME PIGEON. BY THE CELEBRATED MISS HAMILTON. must be governed will fall under the dominion of the worthless; for who but the self-interested and depraved will practise the arts necessary to obtain an ascendancy over the mind either of an equal or superior? SOME years ago, a deep and universal regret || Indeed, in the very nature of things, they who was excited by the premature death of the Earl of N. a nobleman who had the rare felicity of being very sincerely and very deservedly beloved. An eulogium upon his character given in one of the newspapers of the day concludes as follows: "His lordship is succeeded in his titles and estates by his only son, now in the third year of his age. The present earl and his sister, who is in her sixth year, are left to the sole guardianship of their amiable mother, a lady no less distinguished by exemplary virtue, than by her exquisite beauty, splendie fortune, and brilliant accomplish ments." This account of Lady N. was by no means exaggerated. She had hitherto performed all the duties of life in an exemplary manner. She had been an amiable daughter, a good wife, and a fond mother-but she had been neither one nor other from principle. She had only acted the part planned for her by others, and quietly gone on in the track into which she had fortunately been led. For the sweetness with which she accommodated herself to the inclinations of her parents, and her husband, Lady N. had obtained much applause, and would have merited more than all the praise bestowed, had her obedience proceeded from a principle of duty; but it was in her the offspring of indolence and timidity. She yielded, not to gratify others, but to save trouble to herself. She consequently never had experienced the pleasure which glows in the breasts of the generous when conscious of having made a sacrifice of inclination to duty or affection. Those who do not select from esteem, or esteem from real and accurate observation, will be for ever liable to misplace their confidence. Such was the fate of lady N. Her too great facility of temper rendered her an easy prey to the arts of the designing. Her principles were good; but they were not fixed in her mind with sufficient strength to be resorted to as the support and guide of her life. She thought it requisite for her to have some one on whom to lean, and indolently resigned herself to the first to whom chance happened to direct her. Mrs. Pegg, the person who, after the death of the Earl of N. had the boldness to aspire and to gain her lady's confidence, was a woman of very low origin, but of very insinuating address. By pretending a more profound degree of sorrow for the death of her late master than was at all consistent with probability, she made her first approaches to her lady's favour. The grief of Lady N. was unaffected and sincere. She was soothed by the apparent sympathy of the hypocrite, whose tears flowed still faster than her own, and considered them as an infallible proof of the strength of her attachment. Lady N. was not deficient in understanding; but Mrs. Pegg was as much her superior in talents as in artifice: had her talents been guided by principle, she would indeed have been a valuable acquisition in any family; Having been successfully guided by the wisdom of judicious parents, and of a sensible hus-but her heart was corrupt and depraved: her band, Lady N. had always appeared to act with uncommon prudence; but when left solely dependent upon her own judgment, she found that she had been very imprudent in never having given herself the habit of exerting it. She had had what is sometimes called a religious education: that is to say, she had learned a respect for the institutions of the church, had learned to repeat her creed, and say her prayers, and to keep clear of all gross offences. But even these best impressions were rather adopted as prejudices, than embraced as principles. It has been observed of women, by a witty poet, (though in fact the observation is equally applicable to both sexes,) that They who are born to be controll'd, talents were therefore employed to cheat, to circumvent, and to deceive. She soon penetrated into all the weaknesses of her lady's character, and with infinite dexterity turned them to her own advantage. Every thing at Castle N. was now placed under the control of this ambitious woman. So complete was the ascendancy she obtained over the mind of her too easy mistress, that she neither heard, saw, examined, nor judged for herself. Every thing was left to Mrs. Pegg. All the servants, even the old and attached domestics of the family, were, one after another, on various pretexts, dismissed. Some Mrs. Pegg thought it dangerous to keep, because they knew too much of her real character; others were too unbending to be subservient to her wicked views: she therefore made use of the opportunity which constant access to her lady afforded, to prejudice her mind against them all. Never, indeed, did Mis. Pegg make use of her influence for the advantage of any human being. Never did she commend any one to her lady's favour on account of their real worth; or seek to lessen any one in her regard on account of any blemish in their moral character: all her motives were purely selfish. But if Lady N. had been possessed of the principles of justice, she would not have taken this woman's representations as sufficient evidence, neither would she have delegated to a mean and vulgar person that authority, for the due exercise of which, she was to be responsible at the tribunal of the Almighty. The dread of giving herself trouble, would not then have appeared to her as a sufficient excuse for shrinking from those inquiries by which the truth would have been established; nor would she have considered herself justifiable in giving up her own judgment, where she was called upon by Providence to exercise it. With respect to her children Lady N. was still more seriously to blame. She doated upon them to excess. Yet she did not give herself any trouble in the formation of their minds. She trusted every thing to Mrs. Pegg. "What could she do?" she said; "she never had been used to children, and did not know how to manage them; but happily Mrs. Pegg had been used to them, and therefore could not fail to manage them properly!” Their first notions of right and wrong were consequently imbibed from Mrs. Pegg. Now it happened, that of right and wrong Mrs. Pegg had no other rule or standard than self-interest.Whatever gave her trouble was punished as a fault of the first magnitude. Whatever did not interfere with her ease or convenience was passed without notice. No idea of the consequences which false and injurious impressions might have upon the future character, entered into her imagination; nor, if it had, would it have disturbed her peace. The children might be false, cruel, capricious, proud, or obstinate, with impunity, provided they paid a proper respect to her, and never filed to observe her special orders; but no sooner did they transgress in this respect, then they were punished with unmerciful severity; and so completely did she keep the poor infants under subjection, that they dared not utter a complaint. || The children believed that their mamma's apartments were haunted by a secret spy; and in truth they were so; for the unprincipled nurse, not contented with the possession of her lady's unbounded confidence, took care, by means of listening, to inform herself of all that was going forward. And such an adept had she become in this detestable practice, that a two-inch door was no obstacle in the way of her information. When she had, from any thing that passed, the slightest grounds for alarm respecting the continuance of her influence, she had immediate recourse to a method which she had ever found to be infallible. Lord N. or Lady Mary were, upon such occasions, the innocent sufferers. As they were the objects of their mother's doting fondness, their slightest indisposition ingrossed her whole attention; and upon such occasions her sole dependance was placed on the care, the skill, the wonderful management of Mrs. Pegg. No wonder, then, that Mrs. Pegg should be sometimes induced to make to herself an opportunity of evincing her skill and dexterity in their recovery; and as she could do it at the expence of a little stomach sickness, the children were, perhaps, in reality, not much the worse for the experiment. Mrs. Pegg was not, however always thus fortunate in being able speedily to remove the effects of her own treatment. When her young lord was in his fifth year, he was seized with an inflammation in his lungs, which had nearly cut short the slender thread of his existence. It is impossible to describe the confusion and dismay which reigned at Castle N. during the anxious period of his danger. No eye (at least so Lady N, believed) ever shut in sleep; no lips were opened for any other purpose but to sigh. How much the usual consumption of victuals was lessened, is best known to the housekeeper but certain it is, that among the numerous train of domestics and dependants at Castle N. there were few who did not on this occasion feel deeply interested for their lady, or for their young lord, or for themselves! We may believe that Mrs. Pegg would now act the part of grief to admiration. She indeed appeared to be almost distracted; but she did not now act a part: her terrors were, for the first time, sincere. For, though her soul was of too hard a texture to be susceptible of the tenderness of affection, the fond mother herself was not now more truly anxious for her son's recovery than she was. Her attention was not however solely engrossed by the little sufferer. Lady Mary never experienced from Mrs. Pegg so much tenderness of endearment, or such unlimited indulgence as she now experienced. She was only entreated not to speak of her brother to her mamma, and she might have what she pleased. Mrs. Pegg gave herself, in this instance, a great deal of unnecessary trouble. The poor child's spirits had been too effectually subdued by terror to betray any transaction which it was Mrs. Pegg's interest to conceal: nor did it, perhaps, enter into her mind to ascribe her brother's ill ness to any other cause than that to which she had heard it ascribed, viz running across the lawn without his hat. But though Lady Mary might not know, or might not chuse to tell, I know, and I shall tell you how it really happened. Mrs. Pegg's standard of right and wrong has already been explained. Now as the children could do nothing which produced so much trouble to her as soiling or tearing their clothes, so no fault of which they were ever guilty, was punished with half the severity. Lady Mary, being of a timid and quiet disposition, was not nearly so apt to transgress in this way as her brother, who, while he was in frocks, was perpetually grieving Mrs. Pegg's righteous spirit by stains, and rents, most unfeelingly inflicted on her future perquisite. Nor when he exchanged the fragile muslin for the stouter trowsers, were her troubles at an end. Though he could no longer tear, he still could soil; and in those elopements into the garden or court-yard, which not all her vigilance could prevent, he would sometimes in running after a butterfly slip his foot on the fresh dung mould; sometimes in caressing a spaniel receive such a warm return of gratitude as left its visible effects behind; nor did he think of the consequences, until he beheld the marks of his favourite's paws upon the fair nankeen, which he would then most willingly have exchanged for the coarsest linsey-woolsey that ever little boy was clothed in. It happehed on a luckless day, when, as Lady N. dined from home, Mrs. Pegg intended saving herself the trouble of dressing the children a second time, that Lord N. finding himself unobserved, and hearing the voice of Tom the stable- || boy speaking to the tame pigeon, was tempted to slip down the back stairs to share with Tom the pleasure of feeding his pet. been that morning raked from a sewer, and lay directly in his way, and in which he would, the the next moment, have measured all his length, had it not been for the agility of his companion, who, throwing himself before him, saved him from falling farther than his knees. As he was not hurt, he would have joined Tom in the loud laugh which he instantly set up, had not the idea of Mrs. Pegg presented itself to his affrighted imagination, banishing all thoughts of mirth and gladness from his mind. As he looked in sad dismay on the woefully bespattered trowsers, the roses forsook his cheeks, the ruby lips grow pale, and the long dark silken fringes with which nature had adorned his seraph eyes, were moistened with tears of anguish. He stood aghast and trembling; afraid to cry, lest his crying should reach the ears of Mrs. Pegg, and yet not able to refrain from giving vent to the misery which swelled his little heart. At length he took courage to turn his steps towards the house, supported by Tom, who was now little less terrified than himself, though he knew not for what; when, all at once the sound of Mrs. Pegg's voice broke in thunder on his ears, and her stately form was seen advancing towards them, clothed in all the majesty of anger. Lord N. now screamed outright; but unmindful of his emotion she took him by the arm with one of those jerks which prove that dislocation is not so easily accomplished as some weak persons may imagine; and giving Tom a box on the ear which sent him staggering to the other side of the court, hastily proceeded with the culprit to her own apartment. How she stamped and raged, and scolded, it is needless to describe, but as she had stamped and raged, and scolded at offences of the same kind before now, and as it proved without effect, she determined on a new method of punishment. Having stripped the unfortunate delinquent of his soiled garments, she put him in a corner, there to stand during the term of her pleasure, and then calmly left him, in order to resume the occupation in which she had been so disagreeably interrupted. The pigeon was at first a little shy. It flew away at his approach, but being lured back by || Tom, it at length became so familiar as to eat the corn which he scattered for it at his feet. Tom assured him that when a little better acquainted, it would eat from his hand with as little fear as it now did from his. Lord N. was very ambitious to rival Tom in the pigeon's favour, but in the eagerness of impetuosity he defeated his own purpose. The pigeon took fright and retreated. He pursued. Snatching the hat full of corn from Tom's hand, he followed the fugitive, coaxing it in such sweet accents as but one other little boy in the wide world could utter. The hard-hearted pigeoning as his recovery appeared to be to those best heeded not the music of his voice. It walked on till, turning into an inner court, it there took to its wings and flew to the top of the opposite wall! Poor N. rushed on unconscious of his danger, nor once perceived the heap of mud which had It was in the month of May. The sun was hot, but the east wind blew chill. The poor boy had thrown himself into a heat running after the pigeon, which had been increased by succeeding agitation, and from wearing coat and trowsers lined with flannel, he was now exposed, without defence, to the piercing air of an open window. The consequences are not so surpris acquainted with his danger. These consequences it is certain Mrs. Pegg did not foresee, but she made no scruple of doing under the eye of God, what she would not have done under the eye of her mistress. And that she was conscious of doing wrong was evident from the rage she was in on finding that the situation in which she had left Lord N. was discovered by little Tom; who, deeply interested in the fate of his young master, and directed by his lamentations to the scene of punishment, had adventurously dared, by the assistance of a stepLadder, to peep in at the window, through which he hastily offered all the consolation in his power, by assuring Lord N. that the pigeon should be his own. When Lord N. was well enough to be taken out an airing, he went one morning with his mamma and sister, attended by Mrs. Pegg, in the landau, and was standing up by his mamma's side looking over the carriage, when it stopped || so suddenly as to throw him off his balance, with a violence that might have been fatal, had not Mrs. Pegg's arm been ready to receive him. The coachman at the same moment called Joudly to some one to get out of the way. "No," replied the person spoken to, "I will not get out of the way. You may ride over me, you may trample me to death, but I will not stir till my lady promises to speak to me." Lady N. stood up, and on looking out perceived a little boy kneeling in the middle of the highway, which was in that part only sufficiently wide for the carriage. She called out to know who it was. "It is little Tom, the stable-boy, please your ladyship," said the coachman, "he was turned away yesterday morning by your ladyship's orders." "I gave no such orders," said Lady N. "let the boy come here to speak to me." what he wanted, but to be sure to speak the truth, for that she could not endure any one that told lies. "No, my lady, Ize never told no lies since I was born, my lady. My lord there can tell you it was not I, was it, my lord? Pray tell your lady mamma; was it I that 'ticed you out the day you fell into the mud and dirtied all your clothes so? and when Mrs. Pegg was so hugeous angry? Do pray speak, my dear sweet young lord, was it I?" No," said Lord N. looking wistfully up in his mother's face, "indeed, indeed, mamma, it was not Tom's fault." "I know not what you speak of, my dear. child," said Lady N. "I said so," cried Tom, "I said my lady knew nothing of the matter, I was sure and certain, my lady, that it was all a story of Mrs. Pegg's own making, and that you never would have had the heart, my lady, to order her to twist off the neck of my pretty pigeon." "You little abominable lying vagabond," said Mrs. Pegg, lifting up her voice, and casting her indignant regards on the unfortunate outcast, "what is it that you dare to say of me?" "I say," cried Tom, agitated with fresh emotion, "I say that you said as how that my lady said, that my lord caught cold by following of me; and that it was I that 'ticed him into the yard, and that it was by my lady's orders that you twisted off the head of my pretty pigeon, Lady Mary saw you do it; aye, she saw you do it, and she saw you throw the bloody head in my face, too, and heard you tell me that I should be served in the same way myself. And she heard you say, too, that it was all my lady's orders. Did not you my Lady Mary? I am sure you will not say you didn't." "Bless me," cried Mrs. Pegg, "I dare say Mr. Ditto (the steward) has mistaken me. I told him yesterday that I was sure if your lady- || ship knew what a sad liar this little fellow was, you would not keep him another day about the house; but I did not say your ladyship had dis-appeal, sat trembling and silent. Three times missed him.-I wonder how he could mistake me so." "I wonder so too," growled the coachman; I never knew Mr. Ditto make blunders, nor did little Tom ever tell a fib in all his life, as I knows of." Tom was by this time at the carriage door, a piteous spectacle. Stripped of his livery, and having out-grown his former clothes, he had, in order to secure himself from the inclemency of the weather, fastened his old coat upon his back by bringing the sleeves round his neck, and tying them in a hard knot upon his breast, where they conveniently hung, as they now served the office of a handkerchief, in wiping the tears from his swollen eyes. Lady N. could not but compassionate the little wretch. In a mild tone she desired him to tell No. XIII. Vol. II. The poor Lady Mary sadly discomfited by this the truth rose to her lips, and a voice within her heart told her that she ought to give it utterance. But a glance from the eyes of Mrs. Pegg silenced the feeble voice of conscience, and repelled the truth that sat upon the tongue. Lady N. looked at her daughter in surprise," and do you know any thing of this, my love?" said she, taking her kindly by the hand. "Do, pray tell," cried Mrs. Pegg, in a tone which Lady Mary perfectly well knew how to interpret, "did you ever see me do such a thing in your life? Me twist off the head of a tame pigeon! Do, pray tell, my dear, I insist upon your speaking." Lady Mary was still silent. "Bless you, dear sweet young lady, speak," cried Tom. "I am sure and certain you can't have forgotten." E "Was there ever such impudence!" cried Mrs. Pegg, in a voice half choaked with rage, you little story-telling villain, I shall know who it is that has put you upon this." Then turning to Lady Mary, whose hand she at the same time seized with vehemence," tell this moment, I insist upon it. Did you ever see me do such a thing?" "No," faintly uttered the too timid Lady Mary: the consciousness of flagrantly departing from truth and justice, dying her face with crimon as she spoke. "Now," cried Mrs. Pegg, in exultation. "Now, my lady, I hope you will believe, I hope you see what a knave this is: if your ladyship chuses to listen to him all day you will have plenty of stories, I'll be bound for it." "You know it is no story," said Tom, "indeed, indeed, my lady, it is no story; I have not a friend in the wide world, but God; and my mammy told me God would be my friend while I told the truth. Indeed, my lady, I don't lye, and if your ladyship's honour will let me go back to the castle, I will bring proof that I don't." "What astonishing impudence!" cried Mrs. Pegg, turning up the whites of her eyes, wonder how your ladyship can encourage such a depraved little wretch, I should hope your ladyship cannot possibly take his word against mine and Lady Mary's too! Shall I bid the coachman drive on?" Lady N. silently assented. "I The coachman smacked his whip. The horses darted forward, which would at any rate give a sad shock to her poor nerves. The principle of selfishness was, therefore, in Lady N. more powerful than the principle of justice. She had from youth been accustomed to cultivate the one, for it is evident that it had become a habit of her mind; and she had from youth been accustomed only to talk of the other, so that it had no real influence upon her conduct. Lady N. was mild, amiable, and gentle, as heart could wish, yet here we see her guilty of an act of cruelty and oppression, of which a person of a less yielding disposition, and who had been actuated by steady principle, would never have been guilty. Even for the crimes into which Mrs. Pegg was led, Lady N. was in a great measure accountable. Had she considered the influence she possessed as a trust received from God, a talent which she was bound to employ to the best advantage, she would not have deemed herself excusable in thus disposing of it. The ambition which led Mrs. Pegg from crime to crime, would have been crushed in its very birth. Her talents would have been employed in their proper sphere; and her merit judged of, not merely according to the height of its artificial gloss, but by the rigid rules of truth and justice. The poor woman would by this means have escaped the misery into which she was afterwards led by the gradual but overpowering force of great temptations. As to Lady Mary, we cannot but consider her as an object of pity. She had been told to re and poor honest Tom was left a helpless orphan,spect truth, yet was placed in a situation where destitute and forlorn, to seek his way through a world in which he saw hypocrisy and falsehood triumph over innocence and truth; and in which he found the ear of the powerful to be only open to favourites and flatterers, even when justice and judgment lifted up the voice! Had Lady N. been sensible of the fatal impression which her conduct at that moment made upon the mind of a fellow creature, had she foreseen the consequences which ensued from depriving this, then innocent boy, of the confidence which he had been taught to put in the certain success of integrity, she would have been struck with horror! But though these consequences were too remote to be distinctly foreseen, she must doubtless be conidsered as responsible for them, in so far as she acted upon other principles than those which her heart and conscience most seriously approved. to speak truth required a degree of fortitude beyond her strength. She had never been taught the necessity of exerting it. But had religious principles been implanted in her heart, she would have felt that it was less daring to offend Mrs. Pegg, than to offend her creator and her judge. She would therefore at all events have run the risk of incurring Mrs. Pegg's displeasure, rather than soil the pure integrity of her mind, by giving utterance to a wilful falsehood. Granting that through timidity she had permitted herself to be inadvertently hurried into this grievous error; she would, upon reflection, have hastened to repair it, and by an ingenuous confession of the truth, have wiped the stain from her concience. Thus would the principles of honour and humanity have been upheld by the principles of religion. Happy they who are taught the practice, while they are initiated into the precepts of virtué! Happy they who at an early period, have ac She was in reality far from being satisfied that Mrs. Pegg was free from blame, and far from being convinced that the boy said what was false;quired sufficient resolution to adhere with firmbut she had not courage to pursue an enquiry, which if it terminated to the disadvantage of her favourite, would disturb her own peace; and ness to the principles in which they have been thus instructed! |