By JANE TAYLOR
Mrs. Dawson being obliged to leave
home for six weeks, her daughters, Charlotte and Caroline,
received permission to employ the time of her absence
as they pleased; that is, she did not require of them
the usual strict attention to particular hours and
particular studies, but allowed them to choose their
own employments only recommending them
to make a good use of the license, and apprising them,
that, on her return, she should require an exact account
of the manner in which the interval had been employed.
The carriage that conveyed their mother
away was scarcely out of hearing, when Charlotte,
delighted with her freedom, hastened upstairs to the
schoolroom, where she looked around on books, globes,
maps, drawings, to select some new employment for
the morning. Long before she had decided upon
any, her sister had quietly seated herself at her
accustomed station, thinking that she could do nothing
better than finish the French exercise she had begun
the day before. Charlotte, however, declined
attending to French that day, and after much indecision,
and saying “I have a great mind to” three
several times without finishing the sentence, she
at last took down a volume of Cowper, and read in
different parts for about half an hour. Then
throwing it aside, she said she had a great mind to
put the bookshelves in order a business
which she commenced with great spirit. But in
the course of her laudable undertaking, she met with
a manuscript in shorthand; whereupon she exclaimed
to her sister, “Caroline, don’t you remember
that old Mr. Henderson once promised he would teach
us shorthand? How much I should like to learn!
Only, mamma thought we had not time. But now,
this would be such a good opportunity. I am sure
I could learn it well in six weeks; and how convenient
it would be! One could take down sermons, or anything;
and I could make Rachel learn, and then how very pleasant
it would be to write to each other in shorthand!
Indeed, it would be convenient in a hundred ways.”
So saying, she ran upstairs, without any further delay,
and putting on her hat and spencer, set off
to old Mr. Henderson’s.
Mr. Henderson happened to be at dinner.
Nevertheless, Charlotte obtained admittance on the
plea of urgent business; but she entered his apartment
so much out of breath, and in such apparent agitation,
that the old gentleman, rising hastily from table,
and looking anxiously at her over his spectacles,
inquired in a tremulous tone what was the matter.
When, therefore, Charlotte explained her business,
he appeared a little disconcerted; but having gently
reproved her for her undue eagerness, he composedly
resumed his knife and fork, though his hand shook
much more than usual during the remainder of his meal.
However, being very good-natured, as soon as he had
dined he cheerfully gave Charlotte her first lesson
in shorthand, promising to repeat it regularly every
morning.
Charlotte returned home in high glee.
She at this juncture considered shorthand as one of
the most useful, and decidedly the most interesting
of acquirements; and she continued to exercise herself
in it all the rest of the day. She was exceedingly
pleased at being able already to write two or three
words which neither her sister nor even her father
could decipher. For three successive mornings
Charlotte punctually kept her appointment with Mr.
Henderson; but on the fourth she sent a shabby excuse
to her kind master; and, if the truth must be told,
he from that time saw no more of his scholar.
Now the cause of this desertion was twofold:
first, and principally, her zeal for shorthand, which
for the last eight-and-forty hours had been sensibly
declining in its temperature, was, on the above morning,
within half a degree of freezing point; and, second,
a new and far more arduous and important undertaking
had by this time suggested itself to her mind.
Like many young persons of desultory inclinations,
Charlotte often amused herself with writing verses;
and it now occurred to her that an abridged history
of England in verse was still a desideratum in literature.
She commenced this task with her usual diligence; but
was somewhat discouraged in the outset by the difficulty
of finding a rhyme to Saxon, whom she indulged the
unpatriotic wish that the Danes had laid a tax on.
But, though she got over this obstacle by a new construction
of the line, she found these difficulties occur so
continually that she soon felt a more thorough disgust
at this employment than at the preceding one.
So the epic stopped short, some hundred years before
the Norman conquest. Difficulty, which quickens
the ardor of industry, always damps, and generally
extinguishes, the false zeal of caprice and versatility.
Charlotte’s next undertaking
was, to be sure, a rapid descent from the last in
the scale of dignity. She now thought, that, by
working very hard during the remainder of the time,
she should be able to accomplish a patch-work counterpane,
large enough for her own little tent bed; and the
ease of this employment formed a most agreeable contrast
in her mind with the extreme difficulty of the last.
Accordingly, as if commissioned with a search warrant,
she ransacked all her mother’s drawers, bags,
and bundles in quest of new pieces; and these spoils
proving very insufficient, she set off to tax all her
friends, and to tease all the linen drapers in the
town for their odds and ends, urging that she wanted
some particularly. As she was posting along the
street on this business, she espied at a distance a
person whom she had no wish to encounter, namely,
old Mr. Henderson. To avoid the meeting she crossed
over. But this maneuver did not succeed; for
no sooner had they come opposite to each other, than,
to her great confusion, he called out across the street,
in his loud and tremulous voice, and shaking his stick
at her, “How d’ye do, Miss Shorthand?
I thought how it would be! Oh, fie! Oh,
fie!”
Charlotte hurried on; and her thoughts
soon returned to the idea of the splendid radiating
star which she designed for the centerpiece of her
counterpane. While she was arranging the different
patterns, and forming the alternations of light and
shade, her interest continued nearly unabated; but
when she came to the practical part of sewing piece
to piece with unvarying sameness, it began, as usual,
to flag. She sighed several times, and cast many
disconsolate looks at the endless hexagons and octagons,
before she indulged any distinct idea of relinquishing
her task. At length, however, it did forcibly
occur to her that, after all, she was not obliged
to go on with it; and that, really, patchwork was
a thing that was better done by degrees, when one
happens to want a job, than to be finished all at once.
So, with this thought (which would have been a very
good one if it had occurred in proper time), she suddenly
drew out her needle, thrust all her pieces, arranged
and unarranged, into a drawer, and began to meditate
a new project.
Fortunately, just at this juncture
some young ladies of their acquaintance called upon
Charlotte and Caroline. They were attempting
to establish a society among their young friends for
working for the poor, and came to request their assistance.
Caroline very cheerfully entered into the design;
but as for Charlotte, nothing could exceed the forwardness
of her zeal. She took it up so warmly that Caroline’s
appeared, in comparison, only lukewarm. It was
proposed that each member of the society should have
an equal proportion of the work to do at her own house;
but when the articles came to be distributed, Charlotte,
in the heat of her benevolence, desired that a double
portion might be allotted to her. Some of the
younger ones admired her industrious intentions, but
the better judging advised her not to undertake too
much at once. However, she would not be satisfied
till her request was complied with. When the
parcels of work arrived, Charlotte with exultation
seized the larger one, and without a minute’s
delay commenced her charitable labors. The following
morning she rose at four o’clock, to resume
the employment; and not a little self-complacency
did she feel, when, after nearly two hours’ hard
work, she still heard Caroline breathing in a sound
sleep. But, alas! Charlotte soon found that
work is work, of whatever nature, or for whatever
purpose. She now inwardly regretted that she had
asked for more than her share; and the cowardly thought
that after all she was not obliged to do it next occurred
to her. For the present, therefore, she squeezed
all the things, done and undone, into what she called
her “Dorcas bag;” and to banish unpleasant
thoughts, she opened the first book that happened
to lie within reach. It proved to be “An
Introduction to Botany.” Of this she had
not read more than a page and a half before she determined
to collect some specimens herself; and having found
a blank copy-book she hastened into the garden, where,
gathering a few common flowers, she proceeded to dissect
them, not, it is to be feared, with much scientific
nicety. Perhaps as many as three pages of this
copy-book were bespread with her specimens before she
discovered that botany was a dry study.
It would be too tedious to enumerate
all the subsequent ephemeral undertakings which filled
up the remainder of the six weeks. At the expiration
of that time Mrs. Dawson returned. On the next
morning after her arrival she reminded her daughters
of the account she expected of their employments during
her absence, and desired them to set out on two tables
in the schoolroom everything they had done that could
be exhibited, together with the books they had been
reading. Charlotte would gladly have been excused
her part of the exhibition; but this was not permitted;
and she reluctantly followed her sister to make the
preparation.
When the two tables were spread, their
mother was summoned to attend. Caroline’s,
which was first examined, contained, first, her various
exercises in the different branches of study, regularly
executed the same as usual. And there were papers
placed in the books she was reading in school hours,
to show how far she had proceeded in them. Besides
these, she had read in her leisure time, in French,
Florian’s “Numa Pompilius,” and
in English, Mrs. More’s “Practical Piety,”
and some part of Johnson’s “Lives of the
Poets.” All the needlework which had been
left to do or not, at her option, was neatly finished;
and her parcel of linen for the poor was also completely
and well done. The only instance in which Caroline
had availed herself of her mother’s license,
was that she had prolonged her drawing lessons a little
every day, in order to present her mother with a pretty
pair of screens, with flowers copied from nature.
These were, last of all, placed on the table with
an affectionate note, requesting her acceptance of
them.
Mrs. Dawson, having carefully examined
this table, proceeded to the other, which was quite
piled up with different articles. Here, amid
the heap, were Charlotte’s three pages of shorthand;
several scraps of paper containing fragments of her
poetical history; the piece (not large enough for
a doll’s cradle) of her patchwork counterpane;
her botanical specimens; together with the large unfinished
pile out of the Dorcas bag, many of the articles of
which were begun, but not one quite finished.
There was a baby’s cap with no border, a frock
body without sleeves, and the skirt only half hemmed
at the bottom; and slides, tapes, and buttonholes
were all, without exception, omitted. After these,
followed a great variety of thirds, halves, and quarters
of undertakings, each perhaps good in itself, but quite
useless in its unfinished state.
The examination being at length ended,
Mrs. Dawson retired, without a single comment, to
her dressing-room; where, in about an hour afterwards,
she summoned the girls to attend her. Here also
were two tables laid out, with several articles on
each. Their mother then leading Caroline to the
first, told her that, as the reward of her industry
and perseverance, the contents of the table were her
own. Here, with joyful surprise, she beheld,
first, a little gold watch, which Mrs. Dawson said
she thought a suitable present for one who had made
a good use of her time; a small telescope next appeared;
and lastly, Paley’s “Natural Theology,”
neatly bound. Charlotte was then desired to take
possession of the contents of the other table, which
were considerably more numerous. The first prize
she drew out was a very beautiful French fan; but
upon opening it, it stretched out in an oblong shape,
for want of the pin to confine the sticks at bottom.
Then followed a new parasol; but when unfurled there
was no catch to confine it, so that it would not remain
spread. A penknife handle without a blade, and
the blade without the handle, next presented themselves
to her astonished gaze. In great confusion she
then unrolled a paper which discovered a telescope
apparently like her sister’s; but on applying
it to her eye, she found it did not contain a single
lens so that it was no better than a roll
of pasteboard. She was, however, greatly encouraged
to discover that the last remaining article was a
watch; for, as she heard it tick, she felt no doubt
that this at least was complete; but upon examination
she discovered that there was no hour hand, the minute
hand alone pursuing its lonely and useless track.
Charlotte, whose conscience had very
soon explained to her the moral of all this, now turned
from the tantalizing table in confusion, and burst
into an agony of tears. Caroline wept also; and
Mrs. Dawson, after an interval of silence, thus addressed
her daughters:
“It is quite needless for me
to explain my reasons for making you such presents,
Charlotte. I assure you your papa and I have had
a very painful employment the past hour in spoiling
them all for you. If I had found on your table
in the schoolroom any one thing that had been properly
finished, you would have received one complete present
to answer it; but this you know was not the case.
I should be very glad if this disappointment should
teach you what I have hitherto vainly endeavored to
impress upon you that as all those things,
pretty or useful as they are in themselves, are rendered
totally useless for want of completeness, so exertion
without perseverance is no better than busy idleness.
That employment does not deserve the name of industry
which requires the stimulus of novelty to keep it going.
Those who will only work so long as they are amused
will do no more good in the world, either to themselves
or others, than those who refuse to work at all.
If I had required you to pass the six weeks of my
absence in bed or in counting your fingers, you would,
I suppose, have thought it a sad waste of time; and
yet I appeal to you whether (with the exception of
an hour or two of needlework) the whole mass of articles
on your table could produce anything more useful.
And thus, my dears, may life be squandered away, in
a succession of busy nothings.
“I have now a proposal to make
to you. These presents, which you are to take
possession of as they are, I advise you to lay by carefully.
Whenever you can show me anything that you have begun,
and voluntarily finished, you may at the same time
bring with you one of these things, beginning with
those of least value, to which I will immediately add
the part that is deficient. Thus, by degrees,
you may have them all completed; and if by this means
you should acquire the wise and virtuous habit of
perseverance, it will be far more valuable to you
than the richest present you could possibly receive.”