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The Judge's Rebuke

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Pacific Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Oakland, California · Feb 21, 1878

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 4, No. 8.

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The Judge's Rebuke.

By Sel.

SEATED in the elegant library at Wellington Hall, Mrs. Sycopantia Greenfield scanned every object, and could not well restrain a smile of self-satisfaction as her eye rested upon its evident completeness. A gentle knock at the door, and her principal assistant, Miss Philips, entered.
“I have sent for you, Miss Philips, to know if you can assist me to arrange the premiums; and also to have you give me a list of the most deserving in your class.”
“With pleasure, Mrs. Greenfield. I have four entitled to distinction. There is Mary Harris—”
A frown passed over Mrs. Greenfield’s face.
“Catherine Stanton—”
“Pshaw! poor orphan,” escaped Madam’s lips.
“Helen Mason—”
“Humph!” in a contemptuous tone.
“Agnes Tiner—”
“You astonish me, Miss Philips. Do you mean to draw the scorn of respectable society upon my academy by bestowing the highest honors upon beggars? I really expected better of you.”
“If in the performance of duty, I have given merit to the deserving, I feel justified.”
“That may be, Miss Philips; but policy demands that we favor children of influential parents. It matters little if we lose the patronage of the young ladies named, as they occupy no position in society. Now, there is Miss Perry, daughter of the distinguished banker; we will substitute her name for that of Miss Harris—”
“Miss Perry! the greatest dunce in the academy. What an outrage!” The mild eye of Miss Philips flashed with indignation.
“In place of Miss Stanton we will say Miss Cullen—”
“Surely, you must be jesting, Mrs. Greenfield. Miss Cullen least of all deserves any consideration. She has talents but will not improve them.”
“No matter, her family is one of the oldest in the State and must not be overlooked. We can afford to be indulgent to Miss Mason; her father is a rising man; but as for that pauper, Agnes Tiner, I positively declare she shall not triumph over dear Miss Perry.”
“Miss Tiner is a lady,” said Miss Philips, with spirit. “She has few equals. I am very sorry to find my high opinion of you lowered, and as I know you too well to think my reasoning will affect your decision in favor of my pupils, I wish you good morning.”
And with scornful face and bitter heart she left the library.
Mrs. Greenfield’s dreams that night were full of reproach, and when morning dawned she determined to act independently; but the old feeling came back, and for the sake of policy she sacrificed truth and honor.
The lecture room was crowded on Distribution morning. Everything seemed bright and happy, and no one who looked at dignified Mrs. Greenfield could for a moment suppose that low born sycophancy was in her heart.
After music and recitation, came the presentation, and many an idle girl wished she had been more diligent.
“But what was the use of trying?” whispered Julia Green to her nearest neighbor; premiums are never given fairly.”
Mrs. S. Greenfield arose, and in persuasive tones announced that the first honor was awarded to Miss Lucretia Perry.
Miss Perry received the costly books, and with a low courtesy retired to her seat.
“Miss Cullen is the next deserving.”
Miss Cullen looked astonished, but never moved.
“Miss Cullen!” repeated Mrs. Greenfield.
“Indeed I cannot take the premium, Mrs. Greenfield,” said the young lady addressed, in tones distinct enough to be heard by the principal, “I would die with shame were I to advance one step. Miss Stanton is alone deserving, and I will not rob her of her rights.”
Mrs. Greenfield bit her lips with vexation. But policy demanded that she should keep a smiling face; and fearful of exciting the inquiry of the audience, she proceeded with the next honor.
The haughty, purse-proud Mrs. Perry was in ecstacy; she always knew her daughter was so superior.
When Judge Cullen and his noble wife embraced their child, he laughingly asked to see her prizes.
“I could not take them, papa. I have not been deserving.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” said the judge, gravely. “It is well that you are conscious of your deficiency.”
Mrs. Greenfield came forward to greet the aristocratic judge, but his manner was far less cordial than she had expected.
“Your daughter’s generosity,” she began.
But the judge interrupted her. “When I placed my child with you, madam, I hoped you would correct her faults, particularly her indolence; but I perceive you encouraged her. Hence I will be obliged to remove her to the care of more impartial teachers.” And with a stately bow to the crest-fallen sycophant, he ushered his family into their carriage.
It was a sad blow to Mrs. Greenfield’s pride to lose the patronage of one of the first families in the State.
But it taught her this lesson: That the ignorant alone feel pleasure in the fulsome flattery of teachers for undeserving children; but they honor, respect and revere the one who has courage to act with justice and impartiality.—Sel.