University of Virginia Library

16. CHAPTER XVI.
PROGRESS IN REFORMS.

Being thoroughly impressed with the conviction
that it was but a heartless business to
be the devotee of fashion, Mrs. Harley now
turned her attention to the performance of duties;
and although the task was sometimes
hard, and occasionally a little wearisome, yet
it was seldom she complained of the burden,
feeling grateful for the kindness of her teacher.

The calls were ended, and Mr. Harley's
family experienced the comfortable, rational
enjoyment which springs from a well-regulated
home. Marianne entered willingly upon
her duties; little Dorcas, taught by Aunt Ruth,
had learned to know her place, and Mrs. Harley
began to awake to the responsibilities which
devolved upon her. Once enlightened, our path
becomes clear, and the performance of one
duty paves the way to the fulfilment of others.

Little John, hitherto neglected and intrusted
to the care of servants, began to lisp “naughty

words,” besides showing a headstrong temper,
which, having been once suffered to obtain the
mastery, was found very difficult to subdue.
Mr. Harley, feeling his own inefficiency, sought
the aid he needed from treatises on family government,
while his wife was busily employed
in providing for his mere external wants.

How true it is, that when once the wants
and gratifications of the body become an all-absorbing
theme, it requires almost superhuman
energy to change the current of our
thoughts and desires. Aunt Ruth, as I have
before intimated, was actuated by principle in
all her schemes for temporal advantage to her
friends. As proof of it, she very mildly asked
her nephew one evening, as they were gathered
round the centre table, “If he did not think
many useful admonitions and directions in family
government might be gathered from the
Bible?”

The idea struck him strangely, and he very
frankly answered that he had not read the
Bible much since he was a boy; “For my
father,” said he, “always made it a standing
rule that I should read a chapter to him every
morning, and it being then an irksome task,

and a mere mechanical effort, I suppose an
indifference was thus acquired, which I have
not been able to conquer since; though,” added
he, “I generally read a chapter or two on
the Sabbath.” Then turning a significant look
to his wife, “Mary reads the newspapers on
Sunday.”

Aunt Ruth inquired “if they generally attended
church.”

“We go,” replied Mr. Harley, “in the morning;
then I take a turn in the news-room, and,
after dinner, generally sleep a short time.”

“Has Dorcas ever been to a Sunday-school?”
asked Aunt Ruth.

“Not since she has been with me,” said Mrs.
Harley. “I believe she used to go, or be
taught by her weekly teacher; for when she
first came she used to say her prayers and
some hymns before she went to sleep, Mrs.
Hopkins said; but I rather think she was not
much encouraged by her in any good thing.”

“I think it a great responsibility to take
charge of such a child as Dorcas,” observed
Aunt Ruth. “If such children have good principles
early instilled in their mind, it affords the
best security for the faithful performance of

their duties. Perhaps, William, you remember
Ellen Read, who married a carpenter of
the name of Mason. When she first came to
live with me, she was as ill-tempered and unmanageable
a child as you can conceive. She
seemed to delight in deceit and mischief. I
made it my business to cultivate all her good
feelings. I read to her lessons on forbearance
and forgiveness, and often expatiated on the
golden rule; then I taught her little prayers,
and finally succeeded in making her ashamed,
as well as afraid, to do wrong. You cannot
conceive what a change was wrought in her
character in one year. This was before Sunday-schools
were established: now you can
have a great deal of assistance from these; but,
after all, we must help sow the good seed, for
we cannot expect the work to be begun and
completed by others.”

These and similar hints, often reiterated by
their kind aunt with perfect good nature, led
the way to more important changes, to which
her conduct also contributed, for nothing renders
goodness so attractive as the living example.
As an evidence that these well-timed
hints were not lost, rather late in the spring,

when Aunt Ruth had gone home, an invitation
to Mrs. Gerrish's was received by Mrs. Harley.
She consulted with her husband about
going. “For my part,” said she, “since I have
fairly settled down to these family cares, and
enjoyments too, I have lost nearly all my relish
for parties. I was thoroughly cured by
giving one.”

“If that be the case,” replied her husband,
“we may call it a pretty profitable party, after
all. I am sure, if you have no wish to accept
Mrs. Gerrish's invitation, neither have I: we
shall only put ourselves under fresh obligations;
but if we give up going to these large
parties, of course no one will expect us to give
one. We are much happier at home, I am
sure.”

“I begin to think so too, my dear,” said
Mrs. Harley; “I have been vexed with myself
a hundred times that I paid so much for that
velvet dress, which was so soon ruined. If I
went to Mrs. Gerrish's, I should, of course, be
obliged to have a new one; and, since Aunt
Ruth was here, somehow or other, I don't care
much about such things, she impressed me so

strongly with the folly of permitting them to
engross my whole time.”

“But what excuse shall we write?” asked
Mr. Harley.

“Not any, William. I will call and see
Mrs. Gerrish, and explain it all to her: that
we have adopted a new style of living, in consequence
of finding that we cannot afford to
give large parties, and so, of course, I shall not
attend them; and, more than all, that I have
lost my relish for them, in a great measure.”

The next day Mrs. Harley told her husband
that Mrs. Gerrish had replied tauntingly to her
excuses, by saying, “She did not wonder at
her choice, as Mrs. Harley had offended so
many when she gave her party.” “So you
see,” added Mrs. Harley, “these fashionable
friends are worth just as much as Aunt Ruth
said.”

By steady but somewhat difficult steps in
the commencement, Mrs. Harley proceeded in
redeeming the past time; but never did a week
go by that she did not find some relic of her
former self which she had not shaken off. So
closely do our follies cleave to us when one
they have gained the mastery.