Certainly not, as a matter of course, in the country, where good books are comparatively difficult to be obtained, and (though every one has much to do) are usually highly prized, and read with avidity. Certainly not, as a matter of course, where there was a large family of children, and where all must share every thing in common, and where each must perform an allotted part in household duties, perhaps to eke out a scanty salary. Not in a farm-house, where the income will yield but a bare competency for the support of ten or twelve children. If there is a good and wise father and mother at the helm, it is under such conflicting circumstances that children are usually the most thoroughly and practically taught the great principles which should govern human society.
Louise was educated under very different circumstances. Her father’s residence was the great metropolis. He was a very wealthy man, and he had the means of choosing any mode of education which he might prefer to adopt.
The mother of Louise was said to have been a noble-minded woman, but always in delicate health. She early dedicated this infant daughter to God, but died while she was quite young. Unfortunately, poor little Louise was for a few years left to the care of ignorant and selfish relatives, who intermeddled, and often in the child’s hearing, with a significant nod of the head, would utter the piteous inuendo, “Who knows how soon the poor thing may have a step-mother!”
From this and similar ill-timed remarks, poor little Louise very early fostered an inveterate dislike to her father’s ever marrying a second time.
But he did soon marry again. Instead of at once taking this cruel sliver out of the flesh, acting on the sublime principle, “Duty belongs to us; leave consequences with God,” the father of Louise very injudiciously and selfishly fell in with this child’s foolish and wicked notions, and in order, as he thought, to remunerate this darling child for her great trial, allowed her to live almost entirely abstracted from the family circle.
She was allowed to have a room entirely by herself, which was the largest and best in the house, and in all respects to maintain a separate interest. No one might interfere with this or that, for it belonged to Miss Louise.
Her father said, at any rate, she should not be annoyed by any participation in the care of the little ones, as she left no one in doubt of the fact, that above every thing she disliked children, and especially the care of them. Certainly, he said, they should not interfere in any way with her in acquiring a “liberal education.” And thus she lost the sweet privilege of acting the honorable and useful part usually assigned to an “elder daughter,” and an “elder sister.”
To atone for her isolated and unfortunate situation—made unfortunate by the contracted and selfish views of this ill-judging father—her father made another mistake under the circumstances, for, instead of sending her to a good select school, where she would come in contact with children of her own age, and her intellectual powers might be sharpened by coming in contact with other minds, he procured for her private teachers, and she had not even the benefit of a good long walk to and from school in the open air.