Mary and Fanny were both very fond of asking many questions: they were inquisitive little girls. Their Papa and Mamma, however, very seldom answered Fanny’s questions; and yet they almost always answered the questions of Mary. We shall see why they made this difference.
Whenever any one was going out, Fanny used to run after them, saying,
“Where are you going, tell me; pray tell me?—Are you going to Mrs. Smith’s, or to Mr. Johnson’s?—What are you going for?—When will you be back again?” And when any one of the family returned home, she would hardly be satisfied till she had asked a hundred questions of this sort.
The moment any strangers left the house Fanny must know who they were; and what business they called to talk about. She was fond of being in the room when ladies called; because they often talked about the affairs of their neighbours; and this sort of conversation she listened to very eagerly.
There was a Grocer’s shop opposite her Papa’s house. Fanny would stand at the dining-room window for hours together, to watch who went in and who came out; and to see what they bought: and if any body would listen to her, she was sure to ask the name of every person whom she did not know: but, in truth, she had learned the names of most of the people who usually came to the shop. So she would stand talking to herself thus, as she peeped between the window blinds:—
“There is Mary Wheeler. I wonder what she has been to buy, this afternoon; because she was at the shop just before dinner. I dare say it is tea; or else a piece of bacon for supper. Oh, no; I can just see the end of a candle under the lid of the basket. It is a pound of candles; or else three pounds; because, I think, they always buy three pounds of candles at a time, for then they save three half-pence.—That is old Mrs. West; la! how droll she looks. She is come herself to the shop: she hardly ever comes herself to the shop; because she sends her maid. I dare say her maid is gone out for a holiday, this Michaelmas. I can see her through the shop window, talking to Mr. Hyson. Mr. Hyson is come out of the counting-house on purpose to wait on her: he is taking down something to show her: I wonder what it is? I wish the shop window was not so dirty; and then I could see what people buy a great deal better.—Ho! ho! there is the London Carrier stopping at Mr. Hanbury’s; he has brought a parcel for them: dear! dear! what an odd parcel: such a long parcel: and there is something sticking out at the end: it looks like an iron shovel: oh, no; it is the tail of a fish. I suppose they have sent for a fish from London, because they are going to have a dinner party: then we shall see, to-morrow, who it is.—There is the coach coming! I hear the horn: now let me be all ready to see who is on the top of the coach: if it is any body that I know: but they always gallop by so fast that I can hardly see the people’s faces.”
In the morning when the Postman came with his two loud raps at the door, wherever she might be, Fanny always ran to the door; and then she would follow the servant to her Papa’s study, to read the directions on the letters, that she might guess who they came from.
Thus Fanny was very curious about many things that did not concern her; and things that it was of no consequence for her to be acquainted with: but as for her lessons, it was very difficult to make her attend to them at all.
Her sister Mary was very different: she not only learned her lessons willingly; but she was never satisfied till she understood every part of them. She always asked the meaning of every new word she met with: and she was eager to be acquainted with the nature and use of all she saw, or read about. Fanny could remember the names over most of the shop doors in the town: but Mary was acquainted with the nature of the principal trades and manufactures: she knew what countries the different articles of food, dress, or furniture come from, and how they are prepared for use.
Fanny not only knew the names of most of the neighbours; but also, how many servants they kept; or what their business was; or who their relations were: but Mary knew the names of the most famous men who have lived in different ages of the world; and what they were famous for. Fanny could describe all the London coaches that regularly passed through the town: she knew also what hour they came in; and what inn they changed horses at: but Mary knew the names of the constellations in the heavens; and also of the planets;—in what times they revolve in their orbits;—what their distance from the sun is;—how many moons they have;—when they may be seen;—and when eclipses of the sun or moon will happen. She wished to understand the reason of every thing she observed; and her Papa always took the pains to tell her as much as she was able to comprehend: and sometimes he told her in what book she would find an answer to her questions. Sometimes, also, when she asked a question, her Papa would say, “You cannot understand that at present, Mary;” and then she would be contented, and not ask any more about it.
One morning, Fanny came bouncing into her Papa’s study, with a letter in her hand, which she had just snatched from the servant; crying out,—“O, Papa! Papa! Here is a letter from Uncle Thomas; I know it is from Uncle Thomas; it is his hand; and his seal too, there are the birds on the fire-screen, and the crooked arm over it. I dare say it is to ask me and Mary to go and spend some time with cousins: I dare say it is.”
“Yes, Fanny,” said her Papa, when he had read the letter, “it is from your Uncle Thomas; but he says nothing about asking you to come and see him; he sends his love to you, however, and he says he hopes to spend a few days with us, soon.”
“Soon! Soon! but when, Papa?”
“He does not fix the day, Fanny.”
“Then I will stand at the window, and watch all the coaches and chaises that drive by, till I see him.”
Mary, too, was very much pleased to hear that her Uncle Thomas was coming. He was very fond of his little nieces. He had travelled in different parts of Europe; and he had always many interesting things to tell them.
Fanny actually spent a great part of every day before her Uncle arrived, in standing at the window, and looking eagerly into every carriage that passed. Mary found something better to do: she knew that her Uncle would examine into the progress which she had made in her studies, since his last visit. She therefore applied herself with more than ordinary diligence to her lessons: and she looked over what she had been learning for some months past. She also thought of many questions, relative to the countries her Uncle had seen, and about which she was now better able to ask questions, than at the time of his last visit.
All the time Fanny spent watching at the window to see her Uncle arrive, was quite thrown away; for, at last, he came late in the evening; after she and her sister were gone to bed.
When they came down stairs the next morning, they saw a pair of boots and a portmanteau, placed at the door of the room which had been prepared for their Uncle, and they would certainly have awoke him by their exclamations, if their Mamma, who happened to come by at the moment, had not beckoned to them to be silent. They hardly had patience to wait till he came down, which was not till some time after the usual breakfast hour.
It would quite fill a book to write all that these little girls said to their Uncle, during the first day of his visit. He staid a week with them: and in this time he had sufficient opportunity to observe their dispositions and tempers. When he went away, he promised that he would write a letter to them as soon as his engagements would permit. Mary and Fanny were delighted with this promise; and waited eagerly, day after day, in expectation of the letter. It was nearly a month, however, before it arrived: and they had began to think that their Uncle had forgotten his promise. At length a parcel was brought, at the corner of which, under the direction, was written, “For M. and F.”—“For M. and F.” cried Fanny; “that is for us, Mary: that is the letter from Uncle Thomas; and something else, too.”
The parcel was quickly untied; when there appeared a letter, and two separate parcels; one directed “For Mary;” the other, “For Fanny.” Before they opened the separate parcels, their Mamma recommended them to read their Uncle’s letter: it was as follows:—
“I am afraid, my dear Mary and Fanny, you have thought I had forgotten my promise; but I assure you I have not forgotten it; though I have been prevented from writing as soon as I had intended: one reason was, that I could not immediately procure some of the books which accompany this letter.
“Perhaps my dear Fanny may think the books of which I beg her acceptance rather odd ones for a little girl. I must therefore explain to her why I made choice of them for her: and in order to do this, I must write rather a long letter, which, however, I hope may give her some useful hints.
“The minds of some children, I must observe, are so dull and inactive, that they seem to have no curiosity: they seldom ask any questions: they take very little notice of what they see or hear; and never learn any more than what they are forced to learn by their Parents and Masters. When such young persons grow up, they generally care about nothing but eating and drinking; and become more and more stupid and selfish every year that they live.
“But this cannot be said of either of my nieces: my dear Mary and Fanny, have both of them very active minds: they are very inquisitive, and very observant of every thing they see or hear. I think I have sometimes passed many months, in which I have not had to reply to half the number of questions that were put to me, in one week, by the two little girls to whom I am now writing.
“It is necessary for me to remark, however, that Mary’s questions were always of a different kind from those of Fanny. Now, in order to explain exactly what I mean, I must observe, that there are two sorts of knowledge with which we may fill our minds; but one sort is much more valuable in itself, and much more beneficial in its effects upon our minds, than the other. The most valuable kind of knowledge is that which consists in being acquainted with all the different sorts of things, that exist in the earth or in the heavens. The other kind of knowledge, consists in being acquainted with those particular things, or persons, that are to be found in the place where we happen to live. Now, for the sake of shewing, by an example, what I mean, I shall suppose there are two persons, whom I will not call Mary and Fanny; but John and George. I will suppose then that these two persons are equally inquisitive; and also, that they spend exactly the same time in gratifying their curiosity.
“We will imagine then, that John observes that there are many different kinds of trees, and shrubs, and plants, and flowers, growing in the fields, hedges, and gardens, in the neighbourhood where he lives. Now he wishes to know how many different kinds there are;—in what respects they resemble each other; and in what respects they differ:—what their uses are; and how they are cultivated. He therefore procures books which treat of the science of botany; and in these books he learns that there are many thousand kinds of trees and plants, found in different countries: but though there are so many thousand sorts, he learns how to distribute them all into several classes, according to certain rules; so that he can think of them all regularly, one after another, as they are arranged in his mind. And if he meets with some new plant, which he has never seen before, by examining it, he soon finds out what class it belongs to; and so he does not forget it; because he has put it in its right place in his memory.
“Then he learns the various uses of all those trees, plants, and flowers which can be converted to the service of man, either for food, medicine, or building. He knows also the countries where they grow naturally; the method of cultivating them; and the manner of preparing them for use.
“Now we see that John has acquired a great stock of most delightful and important knowledge. His mind is like a large room that is filled with many hundred pictures of the most beautiful objects; so that he can never want entertainment for his thoughts. Wherever he may travel, he will find in every garden, and field, and wood, new objects, which are yet like old friends to him; because he has so often heard of them, and thought of them before. Besides all this pleasure, which he derives from his knowledge, he is instructed in many of those arts which are most important and necessary to human life.
“It is this sort of knowledge which consists in being acquainted with all the different sorts of things in the world, that makes all the difference between men who live in woods and deserts, like wild beasts, and those who live as we do, in, what is called, a civilized state.
“I must also remark, that, while John has been employed in acquiring this knowledge, he has been kept from many mischievous or frivolous pursuits, which gradually make people worthless, or wicked; and at the same time, his mind has become so much strengthened by exercise, that he is much better able to think about any subject, than those persons are, who suffer their minds to remain idle and empty.
“But now what has George been doing all this time? Why, just for the sake of making you understand what I mean, I will suppose, that George has been amusing himself with counting the number of all the trees and shrubs which he can see from the windows of the house where he lives; and that he has taken the pains to find out who they all belong to;—how long they have been growing;—how tall they are; and so forth. No doubt it must have cost him much trouble to acquire all this information; and to fix it in his memory; but then this labour is only a sort of idleness; because knowledge of this kind can be of no service to any one. And what will become of all the things George has learned, if he should go to live at some place only a few miles distant?—he must very soon forget the whole of it.
“But I dare say Fanny will ask, ‘Who would ever be so stupid as to wish to know exactly how many trees, and shrubs, there are in the fields and gardens?’ To this I must answer, that I do not really believe any one could be found, who would be quite so stupid as this; but I do really believe that some people are very desirous to know things that are quite as foolish and unprofitable; and things too that are much more hurtful in their consequences upon their own character.
“Suppose, now, a person wishes to hear stories about the private affairs of all his neighbours; and endeavours to find out how many servants they keep; what company they see; or what fortune they have; or how their houses are furnished; or what hour they dine at; or what their quarrels are about; or whether they are going to be married; or whether any legacies have been left them. I say that to know things of this sort, is of no more use than it would be to know that there are fifty elm trees on one side of an avenue, and forty-nine on the other: or, that there are twenty-seven currant bushes, and fourteen gooseberry bushes in somebody’s garden.
“Besides, when persons want to know things of this sort, it makes them so frivolous and trifling, that they become unable to attend to any serious or important subject. It also makes them impertinent, and fond of the company of ignorant, vulgar, and worthless people; because it is only such people who will tell them the things they wish to know. When young persons indulge this sort of curiosity, though it be only from idleness, they soon become tale-bearers, and mischief-makers, and in the end they are despised and hated by all who know them.
“When I thought of sending some little token of my affection to my two nieces, I endeavoured to think what would be most suitable to the taste and disposition of each. Perceiving, therefore, that Mary is very inquiring, and always anxious to gain real knowledge, and to learn the reasons of things, I have sent a small Encyclopedia of Arts and Sciences, intended for the use of young persons; also a Biographical Dictionary; and a Geographical Dictionary; of all which I beg her acceptance. I have no doubt that she will know how to make a good use of them; and though such books are already in her Papa’s library, I hope she will be pleased to see them upon the shelves in her little closet.
“In thinking of a suitable present for Fanny, I confess I have been very much puzzled. There is no book, thought I, that I remember, in which Fanny can find answers to the sort of questions which she usually asks. It would be charming indeed, if there were a dictionary where one might find such things as the following, all arranged in alphabetical order;—
“‘Bailey, Mr. John.—lives at No. 3, King Street: is a linen draper: has six children: keeps two servants, three shopmen, and an apprentice: his business brings him in about four hundred pounds a year: has lately had a dispute with Mr. Smith, his next door neighbour, about a party wall, &c. &c.’
“‘Ball, Mrs.—Is in her 70th year: keeps only one servant: often dines a whole week upon a leg of mutton: scolds her maid very often: has not bought a new gown for seven years: &c. &c.’
“But as I do not know of any such dictionary as this, I have sent the only book at all like it that I am acquainted with: it is called ‘The London Directory.’ Here Fanny may find the names of many thousand persons in London: also, where they live; and what their business or profession is; together with a variety of particulars of the same sort; and I hope she will find as much amusement in learning these names, as she seems to do in knowing the names and affairs of all her neighbours. Wishing, however, to send more than one volume, I was obliged to think again; and as I remembered that one day, when a waggon load of furniture was unpacked at the next door, Fanny passed many hours at the window, taking very particular notice of every article; I thought she would be wonderfully pleased to have a number of complete lists of all the furniture in several houses. I therefore was at some trouble to procure between thirty and forty old catalogues of auctions of furniture, which I have had bound in one volume. In the long winter evenings, when she cannot look out of the window, she may entertain herself with reading such particulars as the following: ‘Lot 341. Four odd chairs and stool. Lot 342. Beer cooler, and mash-tubs. Lot 343. Wheelbarrow and pitchforks. Lot 344. Sundry odd articles, &c.’ Will not this be as good as if she were permitted to look into every room and closet in all the neighbours’ houses?
“But if, after all, my dear Fanny should not be pleased with the books I send her; and think that her Uncle has only been jesting with her, I hope she will not be angry with him; for I assure her, I could think of no others that seemed equally suitable to her present taste. But I shall be very happy to exchange them for books of a different kind, as soon as it shall appear that she has learned to repress her idle curiosity; and that she has began to cultivate the habit of intelligent inquiry.
“My dear nieces will believe, that I am their very affectionate uncle
“THOMAS.”