es and
maxims--be ye not as the world, lovers of self more than lovers of
God--but be ye transformed by the renewing of your minds. That is
the way I understand him."

"Then you understand him wrong, Mary," uncle Absalom spoke up. "If
he had meant that, he would have said it in plain terms."

"And so he has, it seems to me. But I am not disposed to excuse my
adherence to fashion upon any passage that allows of two
interpretations. I argue for it upon rational grounds."

"Fashion and rationality! The idea is absurd, Mary!" said uncle
Absalom, with warmth. "They are antipodes."

"Not by any means, uncle, and I think I can make it plain to you."

Uncle Absalom shook his head, and aunt Abigail fidgeted in her
chair.

"You remember the celebrated John Wesley--the founder of that once
unfashionable people, the Methodists?" Mary asked.

"O, yes."

"What would you think if I proved to you that he was an advocate for
fashion upon rational principles?"

"You can't do it."

"I can. On one occasion, it is related of him, that he called upon a
tailor to make him a coat. 'How will you have it made?' asked the
tailor. 'O, make it like other people's,' was the reply. 'Will you
have the sleeves in the new fashion?' 'I don't know, what is it?'
'They have been made very tight, you know, for some time,' the
tailor said, 'but the newest fashion is loose sleeves.' 'Loose
sleeves, ah? Well, they will be a great deal more comfortable than
these. Make mine loose.' What do you think of that, uncle? Do you
see no rationality there?"

"Yes, but Mary," replied aunt Abigail, "fashion and comfort hardly
ever go together."

"There you are mistaken, aunt. Most fashionable dress-makers aim at
producing garments comfortable to the wearers; and those fashions
which are most comfortable, are most readily adopted by the largest
numbers."

"You certainly do not pretend to say, Mary," Henry interposed, "that
all changes in fashions are improvements in comfort?"

"O no, certainly not. Many, nay, most of the changes are unimportant
in that respect."

"And are the inventions and whims of fashion makers," added aunt
Abigail with warmth.

"No doubt of it," Mary readily admitted.

"And you are such a weak, foolish girl, as to adopt, eagerly, every
trifling variation in fashion?" continued aunt Abigail.

"No, not eagerly, aunt."

"But at all?"

"I adopt a great many, certainly, for no other reason than because
they are fashionable."