Aunt Kitty's Tales

by Madame Guizot

  CHAPTER V.

  GENEROSITY.

  A few days after the events related in the last chapter, Mary came intomy room to show me a basket and a doll's dress which Florence had givenher. They were neither of them quite new, but they were not at all theworse for wear, and Mary was quite delighted with them, and withFlorence for giving them. "Aunt Kitty, I do love Florence," said she,"she is so generous."

  "Is she, my dear?" said I, in a very quiet tone.

  "Why yes, Aunt Kitty, do you not see what she has given me?--and she hasa book for Harriet, a very pretty book, which she means to give her whenshe is going away,--and she gives away money; you know she gave half adollar to that poor woman the other day."

  "All this, Mary, does not prove that Florence is generous."

  "Well, I do not see, Aunt Kitty, how anybody can be more generous thanto give away their playthings, and their books, and their money."

  At this moment Harriet entered the room. Mary, from thinking that I wasopposed to her in opinion, had become very much in earnest on thesubject, and she called out, "I am very glad you are come, Harriet. Onlythink, Aunt Kitty does not think Florence is generous. Now Harriet, isshe not generous--is she not very generous?"

  "I do not know, Mary,--sometimes she is, but I did not think she was theother day, when she would not give her ripe plum to that poor sick childwho wanted it so much."

  Mary colored; "But, Harriet, I am sure the wooden horse she gave him wasworth more than a dozen plums."

  "I dare say it was, Mary, but the child did not want that."

  Mary became now a little angry, as she was apt to do when she could notconvince those with whom she was arguing.

  "Well, Harriet, I think it is very unkind in you to speak so ofFlorence, and to say she is not generous, when she thinks so much ofyou."

  "Stop, stop, Mary," said I, "you are now as unjust to Harriet as youaccuse her of being to Florence. She did not say that Florence was notgenerous, but only that she had not made up her mind on that subject,that she had not seen enough to convince her that she was; and this,remember, was all which I said. Florence may be as generous as you thinkher, but you have not told me enough to convince me of it. When we haveknown her longer we shall all be able to judge better what she is. Inthe mean time I am very glad you like her, for I am very much interestedin her myself."

  "Well, Aunt Kitty, I do like her," said Mary, in a very energeticmanner, "and I am sure I shall never be any better able to judge herthan I am now."

  I made no reply, and the conversation ended.

  Mary did not forget it, however, nor feel quite satisfied with itstermination, for the next morning, as I was sitting in my room alone,she came in, and after moving about a little while, seated herself by meand said, "Aunt Kitty, I want to ask you a question."

  "Well, my dear, what is it?"

  "I want to know when you do think a person is generous?"

  "A person is generous, Mary, when he gives up his own gratification oradvantage for the gratification or advantage of another."

  "Well, that was what I always thought, Aunt Kitty--and now I am sure alittle girl does that when she gives away her books and her playthings,and her money, does she not?"

  "When a little girl becomes tired of books and playthings, Mary, theycease to amuse her, do they not?"

  "Yes, Aunt Kitty," said Mary, "if she get tired of them,--but I neverget tired of books and playthings if they are pretty."

  "Perhaps you may not, my dear," I replied, "but some other little girlsdo, and those little girls are most apt to do so who have the greatestnumber of such things. Now, should they give away those of which theyare tired--which had ceased to amuse them--could you say they had givenup a gratification?"

  "No, Aunt Kitty," said Mary, speaking very slowly, for she was beginningto understand my meaning.

  "Then this would not be what we mean by being generous?"

  "No, Aunt Kitty,--but money--you know nobody gets tired ofmoney--suppose a little girl gives _that_."

  "Well, Mary, suppose she gives money, and that she knows when giving itthat some kind friend will replace it, or indeed, give her a yet largersum to encourage what he thinks a good feeling--could you say she had_given up_ a gratification--would this prove her to be very generous?"

  As I asked this question I looked in Mary's face with a smile,--thesmile she gave me in return was plainly forced.

  After waiting a moment, during which she seemed to be thinking verydeeply, she spoke again. "Well, Aunt Kitty, but suppose she is not tiredof the books and playthings, and does not expect to get the money back?"

  Mary felt quite sure of her ground now, and looked steadily in my face."Then, Mary, she would be a generous girl, provided she did not expectto receive in exchange for her gift some other _selfish_ gratificationor advantage which she valued yet more highly."

  Again Mary was silent and thoughtful for a while, then said, "Why, AuntKitty, I heard my father say once, when he gave some money to help somepoor sick soldiers, that it was a great gratification to him; did thatmake him not generous?"

  "No, no, Mary, for that was not a _selfish_ gratification. Thatgratification was caused by the good which he knew the money would dothem,--but if your father had given it for the praise which he expectedto receive for so doing, or if he had done it to please persons fromwhom he hoped afterwards to receive some other favor in return--would hehave been generous, do you think?"

  "No, Aunt Kitty," said Mary, promptly.

  "I think, Mary, you are now beginning to understand fully whatgenerosity is. Remember, to be generous, you must not only give upsomething--but it must be something you value--something which is agratification or advantage to you--and you must give it up for thegratification or advantage of another. Ignorant or thoughtless peoplesometimes call a person generous because he is careless of money, andthrows it away on foolish, useless things; do you think him so?"

  "No, Aunt Kitty."

  "And why not, my dear?" Mary hesitated. "I have been teaching you auseful lesson, Mary," said I, "and I would see if you have learned itwell,--tell me, then, why you would not think such a person generous."

  "Because, Aunt Kitty, what he gives up is not for the gratification oradvantage of another."

  "Right, my love, you have learned your lesson well, and will, I hope,often put it in practice."

  At this moment, Harriet put her head into the room, calling out, "Mary,do come and see how Florence has dressed up Rover."

  Rover was the name of a dog which had been lately given to Florence, andwhich was a great pet with her. Away ran Mary--all her grave thoughtsquite forgotten for the present.