Chapter I: The Bodily Senses (2)

Fear should on no occasion be used as a preventive, or a punishment. If children want anything improper for them to have, do not tell them it will bite them. It is not true; and the smallest child will soon learn by experience that it is not true. This will teach him to disbelieve you, when you really do tell the truth, and will soon make a liar of him. Care should be taken not to inspire a terror of animals, such as beetles, mice, spiders, &c. Fortunately we have no venomous creatures in New-England, which are likely to infest the nursery. As for spiders, they are quite as likely to bite a child who is afraid of them, as one who is not; and if such a thing should happen, a little swelling, and a few hours’ pain, are not half as bad as fear, that troubles one all his life long. Children would never have fear of animals, unless it were put into their heads. A little girl of my acquaintance once came running in with a striped snake, exclaiming ‘Oh, what a beautiful creature I have found!’ Her mother acknowledged that she shuddered, because she had herself been taught to fear snakes; but she knew the creature would not hurt her daughter, and she would not allow herself to express any horror; she merely advised her to set the animal at liberty.

Not to kill any animal, seems to me an excess of a good thing. The vermin that infest our houses and gardens must be destroyed, and children must see them destroyed. But it should always be done with expressed regret, and as mercifully as possible. The explanation that we kill them to prevent the evil they would do, is very good, and very satisfactory. But the fact is, there are very few creatures in this climate which do us harm; more than half our aversions to animals are mere prejudices.

However, it is not evils which can be seen, met, and understood, that usually frighten children. A child is told that fire will burn him if he touches it, and if he has been accustomed to the truth, he believes it; but he will stay in the room where there is a fire without fear; for he knows by experience, that the fire cannot come to him. But they are frightened with mysterious ideas of something in the dark--with stories of old men prowling about to steal them--rats and mice that will come and bite them, when they are shut up in the closet, &c.

I cannot find language strong enough to express what a woman deserves, who embitters the whole existence of her offspring by filling their minds with such terrific images. She who can tell a frightful story to her child, or allow one to be told, ought to have a guardian appointed over herself.

Let us examine what the motives must be, that lead to such measures. It is indolence--pure indolence; a mother is not willing to take the pains, and practise the self-denial, which firm and gentle management requires; she therefore terrifies her child into obedience. She implants in his mind a principle that will, in all probability, make him more or less wretched through his whole life, merely to save herself a few moments’ trouble! Very strong minds may overcome, or nearly overcome, early impressions of this kind; but in cases of weak nerves, or acute natural sensibility, it is utterly impossible to calculate the extent of the evil. And all this to save a little trouble! What selfishness!

However, Divine Providence has so ordered it, that whatever is wrong, is really bad _policy_, as well as bad _morality_. ‘Lazy people _must_ take the most pains’ in the end. Fill your children with fears to make them obedient, and those very fears become your tyrants. They cannot go into the dark without you; and you must sit by their bedside till sleep relieves them from terror. All this is the consequence of avoiding a little trouble in the beginning. Is it not a dear price for the whistle?

The management of children should vary according to their character. A very active mind, full of restless curiosity, does not need to be excited; but a feeble or sluggish character should be aroused, as much as possible, by external means. For instance, if there is any wonderful sight to be seen in the neighborhood, such as a caravan of animals, a striking picture, wonderful mechanism, &c., and if it be inconvenient for you to take more than one of the children under your care, let the treat be given to the one whose character most needs to be aroused. Of course, I do not mean that _lazy_ children should be entertained, in preference to industrious ones; I mean where there is a pre-disposition to dulness, owing to early disease, an afflicted state of his mother’s mind before his birth, or while nursing him, &c;--in such cases, the thoughts and affections should be excited with an extraordinary degree of care. A timid child should be encouraged more than a bold and confident one; and if necessary to punish him, means should be used as little likely to break his spirit as possible. A boy whose perceptions are slow, and who learns with labor and difficulty, should be indulged in reading a new book, or attending to a new branch of study, which particularly interests him; but a boy of quick perceptions, and ready memory, should be kept at one thing as long as possible. Such different characters are in danger of totally different defects. One is in danger of never getting his mind interested in knowledge, and the other of getting so much interested in everything, that he will learn nothing well; therefore they should be managed in a manner entirely opposite.

The same rule holds good with regard to the affections: cultivate most those faculties and good feelings, which appear to be of the slowest growth. If a love of power early develope itself in one member of your family with more strength than in the others, subject that child to more restraint than you do the others. But in checking him, do not yourself act from a love of power: explain to him, at every step, that you govern him thus strictly, only to assist him in overcoming a great evil. If you really act from this motive, your child will perceive it to be true, and will respect you.

There is such an immense variety in human character, that it is impossible to give rules adapted to all cases. The above hints will explain my general meaning; and observation and experience will enable a judicious mother to apply them with wisdom and kindness. I will merely add to what I have said, the old proverb, that ‘An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.’--If a child has any evil particularly strong, it is far better to avoid exciting it, than to punish it when it is excited. Whatever may be the consequences of evil, it always gains fresh power over us by every instance of indulgence. As much as possible, keep a young child out of the way of temptation which it is peculiarly hard for him to resist; and by reading, by conversation, by caresses, make him in love with the opposite good; when once his _feelings_ are right on the subject, temptation will do him good instead of harm.

When a child is to be punished, he should always be told calmly, ‘I am obliged to do this for your good. If I do not punish you, you will not remember next time. You have promised two or three times to do as I bade you, but you always forget it; now I must make you suffer a little, that you may remember it.’

A very young child can understand and appreciate this management. I knew a girl of five years old, who had the habit of biting her nails so close, that her fingers were perpetually inflamed. Her mother had tried arguments, and various privations, without producing much effect. One day, the child, as usual, put her fingers to her mouth, to bite her nails; but suddenly withdrawing them, she came up to her mother’s writing table, and said, ‘Mother, slap my hand smartly with your ruler every time I bite my nails, and then I shall remember.’ Her mother did as she was desired, saying, ‘I hope you will remember now, and that I shall never have to do this again.’ The girl winced a little,--for her mother did slap her smartly, though but a very few times; but she seemed perfectly satisfied, and said, ‘I think that will make me remember it.’ For several days afterward, if she moved her fingers to her mouth, she would look at the writing table and smile; and if her mother perceived her, she would hold up her finger in a cautioning manner, and smile also. All this was done in perfect good-nature on both sides. After a while she forgot herself, and bit her nails again; her mother was not in the room; but she went, of her own accord, and avowed the fact, saying, ‘Mother, give me a few more slaps than you did before; and see if that will make me remember it any longer.’ After that, she never needed correction for the same fault. This little girl understood the real use of punishment; she did not look upon it as a sign of anger, but as a means of helping her to overcome what was wrong.

Mere fear of suffering never makes people really better. It makes them _conceal_ what is evil, but it does not make them _conquer_ it. They must be taught to dislike what is wrong merely because it is wrong, and to look upon punishment as a means to help them to get rid of it. Does sickness, and misery, and ruin deter the vicious from the commission of sin? Is not theft indulged at the very foot of the gallows? If a man do not hate what is wrong, the mere fear of consequences will never cleanse his heart, though it may regulate his outward behavior; and what will mere outward goodness avail him in another world, where there is no possibility of concealment, or hypocrisy? What the child is, the man will probably be; therefore never make the avoidance of punishment a _reason_ for avoiding sin.

Having mentioned that a mother slapped her little girl smartly, I shall very naturally be asked if I approve of whipping. I certainly do not approve of its very frequent use; still I am not prepared to say that it is not the best punishment for some dispositions, and in some particular cases. I do not believe that most children, properly brought up from the very cradle, would need whipping; but children are not often thus brought up; and you may have those placed under your care in whom evil feelings have become very strong. I think whipping should be resorted to only when the same wrong thing has been done over and over again, and when gentler punishments have failed. A few smart slaps sometimes do good when nothing else will; but particular care should be taken not to correct in anger.

Punishments which make a child ashamed should be avoided. A sense of degradation is not healthy for the character. It is a very bad plan for children to be brought into a room before strangers with a foolscap, or some bad name, fastened upon them. Indeed, I think strangers should have as little as possible to do with the education of children; to be either praised, or mortified, before company, makes us care too much about the opinion of others. I do not mean to inculcate a defiance of public opinion; such contempt springs from no good feeling, and like all wrong things, is neither becoming, nor expedient. The approbation of others does make us happy, and there is no reason why it should not; but when we do right _because_ people will approve of it, we begin at the wrong end. If we follow conscientiously what we perceive to be good, we shall be certain never to be misled; but if we do what others think right, we shall follow a very uncertain guide, and pollute the best of actions with a wrong motive. Nay, worse than all, we shall gradually lose the perception of what is right; and if folly and sin are the fashion, we shall first _feel_ that they are fascinating, and then begin to _reason_ openly (when we dare) that there is no harm in them.

Nothing is a safe guide but the honest convictions of our own hearts. A good man _will_ always be respected; but he cannot be really good _because_ he shall be respected for it. Indeed those who have been taught no holier motive than that of gaining the good opinion of others, rarely succeed in permanently keeping what they covet so much. The _heart_ is not right; and however clean they may try to keep the outside, at some unlucky moment hypocrisy will fail them, and their real character will peep through.

You may tell a cross, discontented looking woman that the world would like her face a great deal better, if it were cheerful and benevolent; but how is she to alter the expression of her face? The mere selfish wish to be pleasing will not enable her to do it. She must begin with her _heart_, and religiously drive from thence all unkind and discontented feelings.

What a change would take place in the world if men were always governed by internal principle! If they would make pure the hidden fountain, the light might shine upon the wandering stream, and find it clear and stainless in all its windings!

I have heard parents say to children, ‘If you don’t get your lessons better, you will grow up a dunce, and _everybody will laugh at you_.’ The thing to which they are urged is good, but the motive is wrong. If young people are taught to regulate their actions by a dread of the world’s laugh, they will be full as likely to be deterred from good, as from evil. It would be much better to say, ‘If you grow up in ignorance, you cannot _do half as much good_ in the world, as you can if you gain all the knowledge in your power. Now, while you are young, is the best time to fit yourself for being useful.’

I once heard a boy say, ‘Well, mother, I got a grand ride to-day. Last week I told a man one of his wagon wheels was coming off; and when I was walking home from school to-day, the same man overtook me, and asked me to get in and ride. You always told me, _if I helped others, they would help me_.’ This is a common case. Parents are in the habit of telling children, ‘If you will be good, you will _lose nothing by it_.’ This is poisoning the act in the motive. It is not true that we always meet a return for kindness and generosity; they who expect it will be disappointed; and not being accustomed to act from any better motive, they will cease to be benevolent, except when they are sure of reward. We should look for the recompense of goodness in our own hearts; there we shall certainly find it. The reward is _in_ keeping the commandments, not _for_ keeping them.

Children should be induced to kindness by such motives as the following: ‘God is very good to us, and ought we not to be so to others? The Bible tells us to do to others as we would be done by; and you know very well how pleasant it is when you are in trouble to have other people pity you and help you. When you do good to others, does it not make you very happy?’

People sometimes double a boy’s lesson because he has not behaved well. This is a very bad plan. If his book is used as a punishment, how can you expect him to love it? For the same reason, never tell a child he shall stay at home from school if he is good; this gives him the idea that going to school is a task. On the contrary, make all his associations with school as pleasant as possible. Speak of the kindness of the instructer in taking so much pains to teach him; encourage him in telling you about what he has learned; show pleasure at the progress he makes; and tell him how useful he will be when he is a man, if he continues so industrious and persevering.

Never offer money as a reward for doing right. Money and praise become necessary if once habituated to them; so much so, that it is impossible to act without some selfish excitement. Money is the worst stimulus of the two; for avarice is more contemptible and injurious in its effects than a too earnest desire for the good opinion of others.

At the same time guard against wastefulness and prodigality. Teach children to be very economical--never to cut up good pieces of calico, or paper, for no purpose--never to tear old picture-books, destroy old playthings, burn twine, or spend every cent they receive for cake and sugar-plums. But as a reason for not destroying, tell them these things will come in _use_. Encourage them in laying up money to buy an orange for a sick neighbor, a pair of shoes for a poor boy, or a present to surprise his sister on her birth-day--anything,--no matter what,--that is not for himself alone. He will thus learn the value of money, without becoming selfish. To avoid the danger of engrafting avarice upon habits of care, earnestly encourage children to be generous in giving and lending to each other; and show peculiar delight when they voluntarily share anything of which they are particularly fond. If a child has in any way acquired a tendency to parsimony, take extraordinary pains to make him feel happy when he has been generous. Praise him even more than you would think safe under any other circumstances; for it is always prudent to assist a child most in those points where he is the weakest. To be sure, your approbation is not the best motive he might have; but it is better than the hope of public applause; and moreover it is the best motive from which he _can_ act, until he gets rid of his bad habit. Help him to overcome the obstacle which habit has thrown in his way, and he will gradually learn to love generosity for its own sake.

Habits of carelessness, such as leaving things lying about, blotting books, reciting in a jumbled manner, or jumping hastily at incorrect conclusions, &c., should be resolutely and promptly checked. Defects of this sort are the origin of numerous evils. Many a failure in business, many a disordered household, may be traced to the indulgence of these habits in early life. I speak feelingly on this subject; for years of self-education have hardly yet enabled me to cure the evil. I have made mistakes both in conversation and writing, concerning things which I knew perfectly well, merely from an early habit of heedlessness. It is has cost me much mortification and many tears; punishments which certainly have improved my habits, and may in time cure them.

No single instance of carelessness should be overlooked. If a little girl cannot find her gloves, or her bonnet, when you are about to take a walk, oblige her to stay at home. Let no tears and entreaties induce you to excuse it. I dare say, it may sometimes be painful to you to pursue this course; but for your child’s sake, have resolution enough to do it.

If a boy loses his book, and cannot therefore get his lesson at the usual time, see that he is deprived of his play-hours in order to learn it. If he habitually forgets his book, send him back to the school-house for it, even if it be cold weather, and a great distance.

If a girl is always losing her thimble, do not lend her one; let her hurt her finger a little by sewing without one. These small cruelties in the beginning will save a great deal of future suffering. In order to leave no excuse for carelessness, children should be provided with a proper place for everything, and taught always to put it there, as soon as they have done using it.

Perhaps there is no evil into which children so easily and so universally fall as that of lying.

The temptation to it is strong, and therefore the encouragement to veracity should be proportionably strong. If a child breaks anything and honestly avows it, do not be angry with him. If candor procures a scolding, besides the strong effort it naturally costs, depend upon it, he will soon be discouraged. In such cases, do not speak till you can control yourself--say,’I am glad you told me. It was a very valuable article, and I am truly sorry it is broken; but it would have grieved me much more to have had my son deceive me.’ And having said this, do not reproachfully allude to the accident afterward. I was about to say that children should _never_ be punished for what was honestly avowed; but perhaps there may be _some_ cases where they will do again and again what they know to be wrong, from the idea that an avowal will excuse them; in this case, they tell the truth from policy, not from conscience; and they should be reasoned with, and punished. However, it is the safe side to forgive a good deal, rather than run any risk of fostering habits of deception. Should you at any time discover your child in a lie, treat it with great solemnity. Let him see that it grieves you, and strikes you with horror, as the worst of all possible faults. Do not restore him to your confidence and affection, until you see his heart is really touched by repentance. If falsehood becomes a habit with him, do not tempt him to make up stories, by asking him to detail all the circumstances connected with the affair he has denied. Listen coldly to what he says, and let him see by your manner, that you do not ask him questions, because you have not the least confidence in his telling the truth. But remember to encourage, as well as discourage. Impress upon his mind that God will help him to get rid of the evil whenever he really wishes to get rid of it; and that every temptation he overcomes will make the next one more easy. Receive any evidence of his truth and integrity with delight and affection; let him see that your heart is full of joy that he has gained one victory over so great a fault.

Let your family never hear trifling deceptions glossed over by any excuses; speak of them with unlimited abhorrence and contempt.

Above all things, let your own habits be of the strictest truth. Examine closely! You will be surprised to find in how many little things we all act insincerely. I have at this moment in my memory a friend, who probably would be very indignant to be told she did not speak the truth; and I dare say, on all that she deemed important occasions, she might be relied on; yet she did deceive her children. True, she thought it was for their good; but that was a mistake of hers; deception never produces good. I one evening saw her remove a plate of plum-cake from the tea-table to the closet. Her youngest daughter asked for a piece; the reply was, ‘It is all gone.--Puss came and ate it up;’ at the same time the mother winked to a little girl, two or three years older, not to _tell_ that she had seen her put it in the closet. There is an old proverb about killing two birds with one stone--here two daughters were injured by one lie. The youngest was deceived, and the oldest was taught to participate in the deception. Mere experience would soon teach the little girl that the cat did not eat the cake; and having found that her mother would lie, she would in all probability dispute her even when she spoke the truth. And after all, what use is there in resorting to such degrading expedients? Why not tell the child, ‘The plum-cake is in the closet; but it is not good for you at night, and I shall not give you a piece until morning?’ If she had been properly educated, this would have satisfied her; and if she chose to be troublesome, being put to bed without her supper would teach her a lesson for the future.

A respect for the property of others must be taught children; for until they are instructed, they have very loose ideas upon the subject. A family of children cannot be too much urged and encouraged to be generous in lending and giving to each other; but they should be taught a scrupulous regard for each other’s property. They should never use each other’s things, without first asking, ‘Brother, may I have your sled?’ ‘Sister, may I have your book?’ &c. They should be taught to put them carefully in place, when they have done using them; and should be impressed with the idea that it is a greater fault to injure another’s property, than to be careless of our own. If any little barter has been made, and a dispute afterwards arises, hear both sides with perfect impartiality, and allow no departure from what was promised in the bargain. From such little things as these, children receive their first ideas of honesty and justice.

Some children, from errors in early management, get possessed with the idea that they may have everything. They even tease for things it would be impossible to give them. A child properly managed will seldom ask twice for what you have once told him he should not have. But if you have the care of one who has acquired this habit, the best way to cure him of it is never to give him what he asks for, whether his request is proper or not; but at the same time be careful to give him such things as he likes, (provided they are proper for him,) when he does not ask for them. This will soon break him of the habit of teasing.

I have said much in praise of gentleness. I cannot say too much. Its effects are beyond calculation, both on the affections and the understanding. The victims of oppression and abuse are generally stupid, as well as selfish and hard-hearted. How can we wonder at it? They are all the time excited to evil passions, and nobody encourages what is good in them. We might as well expect flowers to grow amid the cold and storms of winter.

But gentleness, important as it is, is not all that is required in education. There should be united with it firmness--great firmness. Commands should be reasonable, and given in perfect kindness; but once given, it should be known that they must be obeyed. I heard a lady once say, ‘For my part, I cannot be so very strict with my children. I love them too much to punish them every time they disobey me.’ I will relate a scene which took place in her family. She had but one domestic, and at the time to which I allude, she was very busy preparing for company. Her children knew by experience that when she was in a hurry she would indulge them in anything for the sake of having them out of the way. George began, ‘Mother, I want a piece of mince-pie.’ The answer was, ‘It is nearly bed-time; and mince-pie will hurt you. You shall have a piece of cake, if you will sit down and be still.’ The boy ate his cake; and liking the system of being hired to sit still, he soon began again, ‘Mother, I want a piece of mince-pie.’ The old answer was repeated. The child stood his ground, ‘Mother, I want a piece of mince-pie--I _want_ a piece--I _want_ a piece,’ was repeated incessantly. ‘Will you leave off teasing, if I give you a piece?’ ‘Yes, I will,--certain true.’ A small piece was given, and soon devoured. With his mouth half full, he began again, ‘I want another piece--I want another piece.’ ‘No, George; I shall not give you another mouthful. Go sit down, you naughty boy. You always act the worst when I am going to have company.’ George continued his teasing; and at last said, ‘If you don’t give me another piece, I’ll roar.’ This threat not being attended to, he kept his word. Upon this, the mother seized him by the shoulder, shook him angrily, saying, ‘Hold your tongue, you naughty boy!’ ‘I will if you will give me another piece of pie,’ said he. Another small piece was given him, after he had promised that he certainly would not tease any more. As soon as he had eaten it, he, of course, began again; and with the additional threat, ‘If you don’t give me a piece, I will roar after the company comes, so loud that they can all hear me.’ The end of all this was, that the boy had a sound whipping, was put to bed, and could not sleep all night, because the mince-pie made his stomach ache. What an accumulation of evils in this little scene! His health injured,--his promises broken with impunity,--his mother’s promises broken,--the knowledge gained that he could always vex her when she was in a hurry,--and that he could gain what he would by teasing. He always acted upon the same plan afterward; for he only once in a while (when he made his mother very angry) got a whipping; but he was _always_ sure to obtain what he asked for, if he teased her long enough. His mother told him the plain truth, when she said the mince-pie would hurt him; but he did not know whether it was the truth, or whether she only said it to put him off; for he knew that she did sometimes deceive. (She was the woman who said the cat had eaten the cake.) When she gave him the pie, he had reason to suppose it was not true it would hurt him--else why should a kind mother give it to her child? Had she told him that if he asked a second time, she should put him to bed directly--and had she kept her promise, in spite of entreaties,--she would have saved him a whipping, and herself a great deal of unnecessary trouble. And who can calculate all the whippings, and all the trouble, she would have spared herself and him? I do not remember ever being in her house half a day without witnessing some scene of contention with the children.

Now let me introduce you to another acquaintance. She was in precisely the same situation, having a comfortable income and one domestic; but her children were much more numerous, and she had had very limited advantages for education. Yet she managed her family better than any woman I ever saw, or ever expect to see again. I will relate a scene I witnessed there, by way of contrast to the one I have just described. Myself and several friends once entered her parlor unexpectedly, just as the family were seated at the supper-table. A little girl, about four years old, was obliged to be removed, to make room for us. Her mother assured her she should have her supper in a very little while, if she was a good girl. The child cried; and the guests insisted that room should be made for her at table. ‘No,’ said the mother; ‘I have told her she must wait; and if she cries, I shall be obliged to send her to bed. If she is a good little girl, she shall have her supper directly.’ The child could not make up her mind to obey; and her mother led her out of the room, and gave orders that she should be put to bed without supper. When my friend returned, her husband said, ‘Hannah, that was a hard case. The poor child lost her supper, and was agitated by the presence of strangers. I could hardly keep from taking her on my knee, and giving her some supper. Poor little thing! But I never will interfere with your management; and much as it went against my feelings, I entirely approve of what you have done.’ ‘It cost me a struggle,’ replied his wife; ‘but I know it is for the good of the child to be taught that I mean exactly what I say.’

This family was the most harmonious, affectionate, happy family I ever knew. The children were managed as easily as a flock of lambs. After a few unsuccessful attempts at disobedience, when very young, they give it up entirely; and always cheerfully acted from the conviction that their mother knew best. This family was governed with great strictness; firmness was united with gentleness. The indulgent mother, who said she loved her children too much to punish them, was actually obliged to punish them ten times as much as the strict mother did.

The husband’s remark leads me to say something of the great importance of a perfect union between husband and wife. A want of this in education is like mildew in spring. A mother should never object to a father’s punishing a child when he thinks proper; at least she should not do it before the child. Suggestions to each other may, of course, be made in all the freedom of mutual respect and affection. One parent should never allow a child to do what the other has forbidden; no expression of disapprobation concerning management should ever be made by either party, except when alone. A young child ought never to suspect it is possible for his parents to think differently concerning what relates to his education. Perhaps you will ask, if, after all I have said in praise of truth, I approve of concealment and deception in this particular. But you will please to recollect it is not _truth_ which I advise to have concealed in this instance; it is only _a difference of opinion_. The child, not being old enough to understand the reasons why his parents differ, cannot receive any good from the discussion. Implicit obedience is the first law of childhood. The simple belief that their parents know what is best, is all the light children have to follow, at first. If they see their parents do not agree between themselves as to what is right, it naturally weakens their confidence, and makes them uncertain which they ought to obey. ‘My dear, I don’t approve of your management’--or, ‘I should not have allowed him to do as you have done’--or, ‘Your father may approve of it, but I don’t’--are very improper and injurious expressions. If you differ in your ideas of education, take a proper opportunity to discuss the matter in freedom and kindness; but do not weaken the respect of your children by expressing doubts of each other’s good judgment in their presence. It is hardly possible to exaggerate the bad effects of discord between parents; and the blessed influence of domestic union may well be compared to a band of guardian angels protecting innocence from all evil things.

If your marriage has been an unfortunate one--if the influence of a father may not be trusted--or if he delights in thwarting your well-meant endeavors--I know not what to say. If patience, humility and love cannot win him to a sense of duty, the only thing you can do, is to redouble your vigilance for the good of your children, and as far as possible withdraw them from his influence. Until it becomes an imperious duty, never speak of a parent’s errors; unless there is great danger of their being imitated, let a thick veil rest upon them. But why should I dwell upon a case so unnatural, so wretched, and so hopeless? If such be your unhappy lot, pray to God, and he will give you light to make the path of duty clear before you. He alone can help you.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] It is but justice to this boy to state; that he was prompt in confessing his fault, and eager to atone for it.

CHAP. V.

PLAYTHINGS.--AMUSEMENTS.--EMPLOYMENTS.

In infancy, the principal object is to find such toys as are at once attractive and safe. During the painful process of teething, a large ivory ring, or a dollar worn smooth, are good, on account of the ease they give the gums; they should be fastened to a string--but not a green one, or any other from which a babe can suck the colors. Some people think nothing so good for teething children as a large, round piece of India rubber, from which it is impossible to bite a piece. Painted toys are not wholesome at this age, when children are so prone to convey everything to the mouth. A bunch of keys is a favorite plaything with babies. Indeed anything they can move about, and cause to produce a noise, is pleasant to them. I have seen infants amuse themselves, for hours, with a string of very large wooden beads, or shining buttons; perhaps it is needless to say that no buttons but steel, wood, or ivory, are safe; if they have any portion of brass about them, they are injurious: another caution, perhaps equally unnecessary, is, that playthings small enough to be swallowed should be tied together with a very strong string, from which no color can be extracted. When children are a few months older, blocks of wood, which can be heaped up and knocked down at pleasure, become favorite playthings. A pack of old cards are perhaps liked still better, on account of their bright colors and pictured faces. Such toys are a great deal better than expensive ones. I do not think it a good plan to give children old almanacs, pamphlets, &c., to tear up. How can they distinguish between the value of one book and another? Children, who have been allowed to tear worthless books, may tear good ones, without the least idea that they are doing any harm.

As soon as it is possible to convey instruction by toys, it is well to choose such as will be useful. The letters of the alphabet on pieces of bone are excellent for this purpose. I have known a child of six years old teach a baby-brother to read quite well, merely by playing with his ivory letters. In all that relates to developing the intellect, very young children should not be hurried or made to attend unwillingly. When they are playing with their letters, and you are at leisure, take pains to tell them the name of each one, as often as they ask; but do not urge them. No matter if it takes them three weeks to learn one letter; they will not want their knowledge in a hurry. When the large letters are learned, give them the small ones. When both are mastered, place the letters together in some small word, such as CAT; point to the letters, name them, and pronounce _cat_ distinctly. After a few lessons, the child will know what letters to place together in order to spell cat. Do not try to teach him a new word, until he is perfectly master of the old one; and do not try to force his attention to his letters, when he is weary, fretful and sleepy, or impatient to be doing something else. In this, as indeed in all other respects, an infant’s progress is abundantly more rapid, if taught by a brother, or sister, nearly of his own age. The reason is, their little minds are in much the same state as their pupil’s; they are therefore less liable than ourselves to miscalculate his strength, or force him beyond his speed. Among instructive toys may be ranked balls arranged together so as to be counted.

Every step of infantile progress should be encouraged by expressions of surprise and pleasure. When a child is able to spell a new word, or count a new number, kiss him, and show delight at his improvement. Sir Benjamin West relates that his mother kissed him eagerly, when he showed her a likeness he had sketched of his baby-sister; and he adds, ‘_That kiss made me a painter!_’

I have before shown that the same rule applies to the affections--that it is better to encourage what is right, than to punish what is wrong. Nothing strengthens a child in goodness, or enables him to overcome a fault, so much as seeing his efforts excite a sudden and earnest expression of love and joy.

For children of two or three years old, pictures are great sources of amusement and instruction. Engravings of animals on large cards are very good things. It is a great object to have proportion observed; if a child have a very small picture of an elephant, and a very large one of a mouse, it will lead him to the conclusion that a mouse is as large as an elephant. Children should be encouraged in talking about the engravings they look at; and the different parts should be pointed out and explained to them. Thus if a palm-tree is placed near the picture of an elephant, the attention should be drawn to it, and it should be explained to them that it is not the picture of any tree in this country, (that is, in New England,) but that in Asia and Africa, where elephants live, palm-trees are very common. If a child is old enough to understand it, some account of this useful tree may be given advantageously; he can be told that it yields palm-oil, palm-wine, that its leaves are manufactured into fans, &c. But if he is not old enough to feel interested in such an account, do not trouble him with it. The object of pointing out all the details of an engraving, and explaining them, when they differ from what he is accustomed to see, is merely to give _habits of observation_, and arouse a spirit of inquiry.

I think it is very important that disproportioned, badly drawn pictures should not be placed in the hands of children. No matter how coarse or common they are, but let them be correct imitations of nature; if they are graceful, as well as correct, so much the better. Good taste is of less consequence than good feelings, good principles, and good sense; but it certainly is of consequence, and should not uselessly be perverted or destroyed. I believe the sort of pictures children are accustomed to see have an important effect in forming their taste. The very beggar-boys of Italy will observe a defect in the proportions of a statue, or a picture; and the reason is, that fine sculpture and paintings are in their churches, and about their streets.

Playthings that children make for themselves are a great deal better than those which are bought for them. They employ them a much longer time, they exercise ingenuity, and they really please them more. A little girl had better fashion her cups and saucers of acorns, than to have a set of earthen ones supplied. A boy takes ten times more pleasure in a little wooden sled he has pegged together, than he would in a painted and gilded carriage brought from the toy-shop; and I do not believe any expensive rocking-horse ever gave so much satisfaction, as I have seen a child in the country take with a long-necked squash, which he had bridled and placed on four sticks. There is a peculiar satisfaction in inventing things for one’s self. No matter if the construction be clumsy and awkward; it employs time (which is a great object in childhood), and the pleasure the invention gives is the first impulse to ingenuity and skill. For this reason, the making of little boats, and mechanical toys, should not be discouraged; and when any difficulty occurs above the powers of a child, assistance should be cheerfully given. If the parents are able to explain the principles on which machines are constructed, the advantage will be tenfold.

Cutting figures in paper is a harmless and useful amusement for those who are old enough to be trusted with scissors; which, by the way, should always be blunt-pointed, when placed in the hands of a very young child. Any glaring disproportion in the figures should be explained to a child, and he should be encouraged to make his little imitations as much like nature as possible. There is at present a little boy in Boston, who at two years old took a great fancy to cutting figures in paper. In the course of six or eight years, he actually wore out five or six pairs of scissors in the service. He cuts with astonishing rapidity, and apparently without any thought; yet he will produce little landscapes, or groups, as beautiful and spirited as the best engravings. At first he began by copying things he had before him; but he afterward attained to so much skill, that he easily invented his own designs. This talent has enabled him to do a great deal for the support of his parents, who are not rich.

Drawing figures on a slate is a favorite amusement with children; and it may prove a very useful one, if pains are taken to point out errors, and induce them to make correct imitations. Young people should be taught that it is not well to be careless in doing even the most trifling things--that whatever is worthy of being done at all, is worthy of being well done.

Some distinguished writers on education have objected to dolls, as playthings which lead to a love of dress and finery. I do not consider them in this light. If a mother’s influence does not foster a love of finery, I think there is very little danger of its being produced by dressing dolls. I like these toys for various reasons. They afford a quiet amusement; they exercise ingenuity in cutting garments, and neatness in sewing; they can be played with in a prodigious variety of ways; and so far as they exercise the affections, their influence is innocent and pleasant. No doubt dolls sometimes excite very strong affection. Miss Hamilton tells of a little girl, who had a limb amputated at the hospital. She bore the operation with great fortitude, hugging her doll in her arms all the time. When it was completed, the surgeon playfully said, ‘Now let me cut off your doll’s leg.’ This speech produced a torrent of tears, and the little creature could hardly be pacified. She had borne her own sufferings patiently, but she could not endure that her doll should be hurt. I know that this tenderness for inanimate things is not the best employment for the affections; but so far as it goes, it is good. For the same reason, and in a similar degree, I think pet animals have a good effect; but care should be taken to choose such as are happy in a domesticated state. I cannot think it is right to keep creatures, that must be confined in cages and boxes; no pleasure can be good, which is so entirely selfish.

It is a benefit to children to have the care of feeding animals, such as lambs, chickens, &c. It answers two good purposes--it excites kindness, and a love of usefulness.

Amusements and employments which lead to exercise in the open air have greatly the advantage of all others. In this respect, I would make no difference between the management of boys and girls. Gardening, sliding, skating, and snow-balling, are all as good for girls as for boys. Are not health and cheerful spirits as necessary for one as the other? It is a universal remark that American women are less vigorous and rosy, than women of other climates; and that they are peculiarly subject to disorders of the chest and the spine. I believe the sole reason of this is, that our employments and amusements lead us so little into the open air.

I am aware that many people object to such plays as I have recommended to girls, from the idea that they will make them rude and noisy. I do not believe this would be the case if the influences within doors favored gentleness and politeness; and even if there were any danger of this sort, how much easier it is to acquire elegance in after life, than it is to regain health! When it is considered what a loss of usefulness, as well as comfort, is attendant upon ill health, I think all will agree that a vigorous constitution is the greatest of earthly blessings.

When I say that skating and sliding are proper amusements for girls, I do not, of course, mean that they should mix in a public crowd. Such sports, when girls unite in them, should be confined to the inmates of the house, and away from all possibility of contact with the rude and vicious. Under these circumstances, a girl’s manners cannot be injured by such wholesome recreations. To snow-ball, or slide, with well-behaved brothers every day, cannot, I am sure, tend to make a girl rude and boisterous. I know one very striking instance of the truth of what I assert; and no doubt the memory of my readers will supply similar proofs. Mrs. John Adams, wife of the second President of the United States, and mother of the sixth, was very remarkable for the elegance and dignity of her manners. Even amid the splendor of foreign courts, she was considered a distinguished ornament. Yet Mrs. Adams had not been brought up in petted indolence, or shut from the sun and air, for fear of injury to her beauty, or her gracefulness. She was a capable, active, and _observing woman_; and while she was the admiration of European courts, she knew how to make butter and cheese as well as any woman in Weymouth, which was her native place. In the latter part of her life, she was one day passing the home of her childhood, in company with an intimate friend; she paused, and looked at a long lane near the house, saying in an animated tone, ‘Oh, how many hours and hours I have driven hoop up and down that lane!’ As might be expected, Mrs. Adams enjoyed a hale and happy old age. Among the other good effects of her example, she has left a practical lesson to her country-women, that refined elegance is perfectly compatible with driving hoop in the open air.

I cannot pass over the subject of amusements, without saying something in relation to children’s balls and parties. I do not believe human ingenuity ever invented any thing worse for the health, heart, or happiness--any thing at once so poisonous to body and soul. I do not, of course, refer to a social intercourse between the children of different families--that should be encouraged. I mean regular parties, in imitation of high-life--where children eat confectionary, stay late, dress in finery, talk nonsense, and affect what they do not feel--just as their elders in the fashionable world do. It is a heart-sickening sight to see innocent creatures thus early trained to vanity and affectation. In mercy to your children, trust not their purity and peace in such a sickly and corrupting atmosphere. ‘Who was your beau last night?’ said a girl of eight years old to another of ten. ‘I danced twice with George Wells,’ was the reply. ‘Did you wear your pink sash, or your blue one?’ I could have wept in very pity for the guileless young creatures, into whose cup of life poison had been so early poured! I speak the more earnestly on this subject, because it has become so general a habit with all classes of people to indulge children in balls and parties.

As for dancing, within and of itself, I see no objection to it. It is a healthy, innocent, and graceful recreation. The vanity and dissipation, of which it has usually been the accompaniment, have brought it into disrepute with the conscientious. But if dancing be made to serve the purpose, which all accomplishments should serve,--that of ministering to the pleasure of father, mother, brothers, sisters and friends,--it is certainly innocent and becoming. I do not mean to imply that it is wrong to dance anywhere else but at home.--I simply mean that girls should not learn an accomplishment for the _purpose_ of display among strangers. Let them learn anything which your income allows (without a diminution of comfort or benevolence)--but teach them to acquire it as a means of future usefulness, as a pleasant resource, or for the sake of making home agreeable--not with the hope of exciting admiration abroad.