GRIEF OVER YOUNG LIARS.
MR. SAUNDERS was a moral man, strictly honorable in his dealings with
his fellow-men. He would have scorned the idea of cheating his patrons,
or any one with whom he had to do; because such conduct was, in his
opinion, mean and low. For a liar, he had the greatest contempt.
Imagine, then, his horror when he found that neither of his daughters
had the slightest regard for truth.
On one occasion he brought home a valuable book of engravings, lent him
by a friend. For a few days, he was so much occupied, he had no time to
examine it; but when he did, he found almost every page marred by marks
of dirty fingers. Mortified and chagrined, he called, first, Alice and
then Ellen, and holding up the volume, demanded an explanation. They
both denied having touched the book, or even having seen it, and looked
in his face, as they repeated the assertion, with such unblushing
effrontery, he could not believe them to be the guilty ones.
A few days later, he met a young man at the bookstore who was on
intimate terms in his family. Mr. Saunders was about purchasing a
duplicate of the volume which had been so mysteriously injured, when
the other remarked,—
"I told Ellen it was dangerous to handle a valuable book while eating
fruit."
"What do you mean?" inquired the gentleman, a bright flush spreading
all over his face. "Did you see Ellen with a book like this?"
The young man laughed.
"I had no idea I was telling tales," he said; "but I happened in
one day when you were not at home. The girls were earnest in their
admiration of the engravings, and in her zeal, Ellen pulled it from her
sister, though her hands were half full of fruit. Ask them; they will
tell you about it."
The father opened his pocket-book, laid down the price of the volume,
and walked out of the store without another word. Perhaps in all the
years since his wife died, he had never so forcibly realized the
responsibility which rested upon him as he did during that short walk.
What adepts in lying his daughters must have become, when they could so
entirely deceive him! His boy, too,—there was no knowing how soon he
would follow their example. Before he reached his own steps, his eyes
seemed for the first time open to the fact that Aunt Clarissa, however
excellent a housekeeper, was not equal to the moral training of his
children.
On entering the house, he sent for his daughters, and was deeply pained
to see how readily they reiterated the falsehood, and, even when he
convinced them he was aware of the fact that they had deceived him, how
little shame they exhibited at the detection. Indeed, they did not feel
that they had committed a grave offence, nor realize that not only had
they deceived a kind, indulgent parent, but had violated one of God's
holy commands, "Lie not one to another."
A sharp pang shot through the heart of Mr. Saunders, as he
remembered how entirely he had neglected to teach his children their
accountability to God. After a few words to them, expressing his
horror of their crime, he dismissed them abruptly, and passed the
next hour in forming resolutions for the future. He realized, for
the first time,—because circumstances had not heretofore brought the
subject before him,—that if they went on as they were now going, with
no counter-influences to check their impulses, they would be ruined.
Something must be done, and that at once, to change their whole course
of conduct.
If Mr. Saunders had been a Christian father, he would have reasoned
differently. He would have said, "My children are by nature sinful; the
seeds of corruption have begun to take root, and must be exterminated.
The grace of God and the constant instructions of his holy word alone
can do this. I will give them line upon line, and precept upon precept,
and pray for God's blessing upon the result."
But, as it was, he saw the evil, yet was puzzled as to the cure. That
night but little sleep came to his pillow, and the morning dawned with
only one advance upon the doubts of the preceding day, and that was a
resolve to consult a friend, who had several daughters of her own, as
to the course he had better pursue.
Mrs. Peters was a woman of the world. It was her ambition that her
children should excel and shine in society. She therefore was unwearied
in her devotion to what she considered their best interests. She would
have thought it a sin to omit one of their studies, or to remit an
hour of their daily penance of sitting with their feet in the stocks,
with their arms tightly braced back to give grace and vigor to their
frames. They were to be outwardly polished and beautiful; but she had
not given a thought to the fashioning of their souls in the image of
their Saviour. She condoled with Mr. Saunders, as to the state of
perplexity in which he found himself, and advised him at once to send
Alice to a fashionable boarding school, where she would be taught every
accomplishment, and where, of course, she would soon learn that lying
and all those things were very low and unladylike.
Though not entirely convinced by her reasoning, Mr. Saunders determined
to follow her advice, and in less than a month, Alice became a member
of Mrs. Lerow's celebrated school for young ladies, where for the
present we shall leave her.
Now that his attention had once been directed to the subject, the
gentleman watched closely his other daughter, and was pained to
perceive that, with many fine traits, she was growing up not only a
liar, but passionate and self-willed. It was evident she needed a firm,
careful hand to direct her physical and moral training for a few years.
Mrs. Saunders's sister was married and lived fifty miles in the
country. It had been her habit; ever since her sister's death, to
visit her brother-in-law once in a few years; and just at this time,
she wrote announcing her intention of spending a week in the city. The
gentleman was intensely relieved.
"She is just the person," he said to himself, "to have the charge of
Ellen. I wonder it did not occur to me before. It will be the saving of
the child, if her aunt will consent to take her."
Mrs. Collins had not been in the house many days, before she agreed
with her brother that his children needed a mother's careful, judicious
management. Ellen, ardent, impulsive as she was, had always been her
favorite; but she was deeply grieved to see how entirely the child was
wanting in moral and religious principle.
When Mr. Saunders first mentioned his wish of sending his daughter home
with her to remain for an indefinite period, she shrank from so great a
responsibility; but after making it a subject of prayer and direction
from her Father in heaven, she thought here was an opportunity to do
good which ought not to be neglected, even though it involved great
personal sacrifices.
There were some conditions, however, which she insisted upon as
essential to the well-being of Ellen. She should be entirely under her
aunt's influence, not even visiting home until her present habits of
deceit were so far eradicated that she would not be likely to return to
them; and that Mr. Saunders would co-operate with her in everything she
considered essential for the good of the child.
Ellen, herself, was in raptures at the proposed change. Mrs. Collins
prolonged her visit another week, in order that the necessary
preparations might be completed, and as, in the mean time, she
accompanied the lady on her shopping expeditions, and in many instances
had her own taste consulted in the choice of her dress, she expressed
herself as more happy than she had ever been in her life.