第38章

Juanna was not very thin， but she had a gaunt visage， and her “regard” was fierce and hungry； narrow as was her brow， it presented space enough for the legible graving of two words， Mutiny and Hate； in some one of her other lineaments I think the eye—cowardice had also its distinct cipher.Mdlle Trista thought fit to trouble my first lessons with a coarse work-day sort ofturbulence； she made noises with her mouth like a horse， she ejected her saliva， she uttered brutal expressions； behind and below her were seated a band of very vulgar， inferior-looking Flamandes， including two or three examples of that deformity of person and imbecility of intellect whose frequency in the Low Countries would seem to furnish proof that the climate is such as to induce degeneracy of the human mind and body； these， I soon found， were completely under her influence， and with their aid she got up and sustained a swinish tumult， which I was constrained at last to quell by ordering her and two of her tools to rise from their seats， and， having kept them standing five minutes， turning them bodily out of the schoolroom： the accomplices into a large place adjoining called the grands salle； the principal into a cabinet， of which I closed the door and pocketed the key.This judgment I executed in the presence of Mdlle Reuter， who looked much aghast at beholding so decided a proceeding—the most severe that had ever been ventured on in her establishment.Her look of affright I answered with one of composure， and finally with a smile， which perhaps flattered， and certainly soothed her.Juanna Trista remained in Europe long enough to repay， by malevolence and ingratitude， all who had ever done her a good turn； and she then went to join her father in the — Isles， exulting in the thought that she should there have slaves， whom， as she said， she could kick and strike at will.

These three pictures are from the life.I possess others， asmarked and as little agreeable， but I will spare my reader the exhibition of them.

Doubtless it will be thought that I ought now， by way ofcontrast， to show something charming； some gentle virgin head，circled with a halo， some sweet personification of innocence， clasping the dove of peace to her bosom.No： I saw nothing of the sort， and therefore cannot portray it.The pupil in the school possessing the happiest disposition was a young girl from the country， Louise Path； she was sufficiently benevolent and obliging， but not well taught nor well mannered； moreover， the plague-spot of dissimulation was in her also； honour and principle were unknown to her， she had scarcely heard their names.The least exceptionable pupil was the poor little Sylvie I have mentioned once before.Sylvie was gentle in manners， intelligent in mind； she was even sincere， as far as her religion would permit her to be so， but her physical organization was defective； weak health stunted her growth and chilled her spirits， and then， destined as she was for the cloister， her whole soul was warped to a conventual bias， and in the tame， trained subjection of her manner， one read that she had already prepared herself for her future course of life， by giving up her independence of thought and action into the hands of some despotic confessor.She permitted herself no original opinion， no preference of companion or employment； in everything she was guided by another.With a pale， passive， automaton air， she went about all day long doing what she was bid； never what she liked， or what， from innate conviction， she thought it right to do.The poor little future religieuse had been early taught to make the dictates of her own reason and conscience quite subordinate to the will of her spiritual director.She was the model pupil of Mdlle Reuter’s establishment； pale， blighted image， where life lingered feebly， but whence the soul had been conjured by Romish wizard-craft！

A few English pupils there were in this school， and these mightbe divided into two classes.1st.The continental English—the daughters chiefly of broken adventurers， whom debt or dishonour had driven from their own country.These poor girls had never known the advantages of settled homes， decorous example， or honest Protestant education； resident a few months now in one Catholic school， now in another， as their parents wandered from land to land—from France to Germany， from Germany to Belgium—they had picked up some scanty instruction， many bad habits， losing every notion even of the first elements of religion and morals， and acquiring an imbecile indifference to every sentiment that can elevate humanity； they were distinguishable by an habitual look of sullen dejection， the result of crushed self-respect and constant browbeating from their Popish fellow-pupils， who hated them as English， and scorned them as heretics.

The second class were British English.Of these I did not encounter half a dozen during the whole time of my attendance at the seminary； their characteristics were clean but careless dress， ill-arranged hair (compared with the tight and trim foreigners)， erect carriage， flexible figures， white and taper hands， features more irregular， but also more intellectual than those of the Belgians， grave and modest countenances， a general air of native propriety and decency； by this last circumstance alone I could at a glance distinguish the daughter of Albion and nursling of Protestantism from the foster-child of Rome， the protégée of Jesuistry： proud， too， was the aspect of these British girls； at once envied and ridiculed by their continental associates， they warded off insult with austere civility， and met hate with mute disdain； they eschewed company-keeping， and in the midst of numbers seemed to dwell isolated.