A MOTHER'S DUTY.
I CLOSE my volume of rambling sketches, with a chapter more didacticand serious. The duties of the housekeeper and mother, usually unitein the same person; but difficult and perplexing as is the formerrelation, how light and easy are all its claims compared with thoseof the latter. Among my readers are many mothers--Let us for alittle while hold counsel together.
To the mind of a mother, who loves her children, no subject can haveso deep an interest as that which has respect to the well being ofher offspring. Young mothers, especially, feel the need, the greatneed of the hints and helps to be derived from others' experience.To them, the duty of rightly guiding, forming and developing theyoung mind is altogether a new one; at every step they feel theirincompetence, and are troubled at their want of success. A youngmarried friend, the mother of two active little boys, said to me,one day, earnestly,
"Oh! I think, sometimes, that I would give the world if I only couldsee clearly what was my duty towards my children. I try to guidethem aright--I try to keep them from all improper influences--butrank weeds continually spring up with the flowers I have planted.How shall I extirpate these, without injuring the others?"
How many a young mother thus thinks and feels. It is indeed a greatresponsibility that rests upon her. With the most constant andcareful attention, she will find the task of keeping out the weeds ahard one; but let her not become weary or discouraged. The enemy isever seeking to sow tares amid her wheat, and he will do it if shesleep at her post. Constant care, good precept, and, above all, goodexample, will do much. The gardener whose eye is ever over, andwhose hand is ever busy in his garden, accomplishes much; themeasure of his success may be seen if the eye rest for but a momenton the garden of his neighbor, the sluggard. Even if a weed springshere and there, it is quickly plucked up, and never suffered toobstruct or weaken the growth of esculent plants. A mole may enterstealthily, marring the beauty of a flower-bed, and disturbing theroots of some garden-favorite, but through the careful husbandman'swell set enclosure, no beasts find an entrance. So it will be withthe watchful, conscientious mother. She will so fence around herchildren from external dangers and allurements, that destructivebeasts will be kept out; and she will, at the same time cultivatethe garden of their good affections, and extirpate the weeds, thather children may grow up in moral health and beauty.
All this can be done. But the right path must be seen before we canwalk in it. Every mother feels as the one I have alluded to; butsome, while they feel as deeply, have not the clear perceptions ofwhat is right that others have. Much has been written on the subjectof guiding and governing children--much that is good, and much thatis of doubtful utility. I will here present, from the pen of anEnglish lady, whose work has not, we believe, been re-printed inthis country, a most excellent series of precepts. They deserve tobe written in letters of gold, and hung up in every nursery. Shesays--
"The moment a child is born into the world, a mother's dutiescommence; and of all those which God has allotted to mortals, thereare none so important as those which devolve upon a mother.
More feeble and helpless than any thing else of living creatures isan infant in the first days of its existence--unable to minister toits own wants, unable even to make those wants known: a feeble crywhich indicates suffering, but not what or where the pain is, is allit can utter. But to meet this weakness and incapacity on the partof the infant, God has implanted in the heart of the mother ayearning affection to her offspring, so that she feels this almostinanimate being to be a part of herself, and every cry of pain actsas a dagger to her own heart.
And to humanity alone, of all the tribes of animated beings, has apower been given to nullify this feeling. Beast, bird, and insect,attend to the wants of their offspring, accordingly as those wantsrequire much or little assiduity. But woman, if she will, can drugand stupefy this feeling. She can commit the charge of her child todependants and servants, and need only to take care that enough isprovided to meet that child's wants, but need not see herself thatthose wants are actually met.
But a woman who does this is far, very far, from doing her duty. Whois so fit to watch over the wants of infancy as she who gave thatinfant birth? Can a mother suppose, that if she can so stifle thosesensibilities which prompt her to provide for the wants of herchildren, servants and dependants, in whom no such sensibilitiesexist, will be very solicitous about their charge? How many of theinfant's cries will be unattended to, which would at once have madetheir way to the heart of a mother! and, therefore, how many of thechild's wants will in consequence remain uncared for!
No one can understand so well the wants of a child as a mother--noone is ever so ready to meet those wants as she; and, therefore, tonone but a mother, under ordinary circumstances, should the entirecharge of a child be committed, And in all countries in which,luxury has not so far attained the ascendency, that in order topartake of its pleasures a mother will desert her offspring, thecares and trials of maternal love are entered upon as the sweetestof enjoyments and the greatest of pleasures. It was a noble sayingof a queen of France, "that none should share with her theprivileges of a mother;" and if the same sentiment found its wayinto every heart, a very different aspect would soon be produced.How many, through ill-treatment and neglect in childhood, carry themarks to their dying day in weak and sickly constitutions! how manymore in a distorted body and crippled limbs! These are but the toosure consequences of the neglect of a mother, and, consequent uponthat, the neglect of servants, who, feeling the child a burden,lessen their own trouble; and many a mother who, perhaps, now thather child has grown up, weeps bitter tears over his infirmities,might have saved his pain and her own sorrow by attending to hiswants in infancy.
"Can a mother forget her sucking child?" asks the inspired penman,in a way that it would seem to be so great an anomaly as almost toamount to an impossibility. Yet modern luxury not only proves thatsuch a thing can be done, but it is one even of common occurrence.But if done, surely some great stake must be pending--something onwhich life and property are concerned--that a mother can thus forgetthe child of her bosom? Alas! no; the child is neglected, that nointerruption may take place in the mother's stream of pleasure. Forthe blandishments of the theatre, or the excitements of the dance,is a child left to the charge of those who have nothing of love forit--no sympathy for its sufferings, no joyousness in sharing in itspleasures.
A woman forfeits all claim to the sacred character of a mother ifshe abandon her offspring to the entire care of others: for ere shecan do this, she must have stifled all the best feelings of hernature, and become "worse than the infidel"--for she gives freely tothe stranger, and neglects her own.
Therefore should a woman, if she would fulfil her duty, make herchild her first care. It is not necessary that her whole time shouldbe spent in attending to its wants; but it is necessary that so muchof the time should be spent, that nothing should be neglected whichcould add to the child's comfort and happiness. And not only is itneedful that a woman should show a motherly fondness for her child,so that she should attend to its wants and be solicitous for itswelfare; it is also necessary that she should know how those wantsare best to be provided for, and how that welfare is best to beconsulted: for to the natural feelings which prompt animals toprovide for their offspring, to humanity is added the noble gift ofreason; so that thought and solicitude are not merely the effects ofblind instinct, but the produce of a higher and nobler faculty.
As we have already adverted to this point, we shall only say, thatwithout a knowledge of how the physical wants of a child are to bemet in the best manner, a mother cannot be said to be performing herduty; for the kindness which is bestowed may be but the result ofnatural feeling, which it would be far harder to resist than tofulfil; whereas the want of knowledge may have resulted fromignorance and idleness, and the loss of this knowledge will never bemade up by natural kindness and love: it will be like trying to workwithout hands, or to see when the eyes are blinded.
But there is yet a higher duty devolving upon woman. She has toattend to the mental and moral wants of her offspring, as well as tothe physical. And helpless as we are born into the world ifreference be made to our physical wants, we are yet more helpless ifreference be made to our mental and moral. We come into the worldwith evil passions, perverted faculties, and unholy dispositions:for let what will be said of the blandness and attractiveness ofchildren, there are in those young hearts the seeds of evil; and itneeds but that a note be taken of what passes in the every-day lifeof a child, to convince that all is not so amiable as at first sightappears, but that the heart hides dark deformity, headstrongpassions, and vicious thoughts. And to a mother's lot it falls to bethe instructress of her children--their guide and pattern, and shefails in her duty when she fails in either of these points. But itmay be said, that the requirement is greater than humanity canperform, and that it would need angelic purity to be able fully tomeet it; for who shall say that she is so perfect that noinconsistencies shall appear between what she teaches and what shepractises?
It would be, indeed, to suppose mothers more than human to thinkthat their instructions should be perfect. The best of mothers areliable to err, and the love a mother has for her child may tempt herfrequently to pass over faults which she knows ought to becorrected. But making due allowance for human incompetency and humanweakness, still will a mother be bound to the utmost of her power tobe the instructress of her child, equally by the lesson sheinculcates and the pattern she exhibits.
There is, indeed, too much neglect shown in the instruction ofchildren. Mothers seem to think, that if amiable qualities are shownin the exterior, no instruction is necessary for the heart. But thisis a most futile attempt to make children virtuous; it is likeattempting to purify water half-way down the stream, and leaving itstill foul at the source. The heart should be the first thinginstructed; a motive and a reason should be given for everyrequirement--a motive and a reason should be given for everyabstinence called for--and when the heart is made to love virtue,the actions will be those of virtue; for it is the heart which isthe great mover of all actions--and the moment a child candistinguish between a smile and a frown, from that moment shouldinstruction commence--an instruction suited indeed to infantinecapacities, but which should be enlarged as the child's capacitiesexpand. It is very bad policy to suffer the first years of a child'slife to pass without instruction; for if good be not written on themind, there is sure to be evil. It is a mother's duty to watch theexpanding intellect of her child, and to suit her instructionsaccordingly: it is equally so to learn its disposition--to study itswishes, its hopes and its fears, and to direct, control, and pointthem to noble aims and ends.
Oh! not alone is it needful that a mother be solicitous for thehealth and happiness of her child on earth: a far higher and moreimportant thought should engage her attention--concern for her childas an immortal and an accountable being.
To all who bear the endearing name of mother, thus would we speak:
That child with whom you are so fondly playing--whose happy andsmiling countenance might serve for the representation of acherub, and whose merry laugh rings joyously and free--yes! thatblooming child, notwithstanding all these pleasing and attractivesmiles, has a heart prone to evil. To you is it committed to be theteacher of that child; and on that teaching will mainly if notentirely depend its future happiness or misery; not of a few briefyears--not of a life-time, but of eternity; for though a dyingcreature, it is still immortal, and the happiness or misery of thatimmortality depends upon your instruction.
Will you neglect or refuse to be your child's teacher? Shall theworld and its pleasures draw off your attention from your duty whenso much is at stake? or, will you leave your child to gleanknowledge as best it can, thus imbibing all principles and allhabits, most of them unwholesome, and many poisonous? You candecide--you, the mother. You gave it life, you may make that life ablessing or a curse, as you inculcate good or evil; for ifthrough your neglect, or through bad example, you let evil passionsobtain an ascendency, that child may grow into a dissolute andimmoral man; his career may be one of debauchery and profaneness;and then, when he comes to die, in the agonies of remorse, in thedelirium of a conscience-stricken spirit, he may gasp out his lastbreath with a curse on your head, for having given him life, but nota disposition to use it aright, so that his has been a life of shameand disgrace here, and will be one of misery hereafter. That child'scharacter is yet untainted; with you that decision rests--hisdestiny is in your hands. He may have dispositions the most dark andfoul--falseness, hatred and revenge; but you may prevent theirgrowth. He may have dispositions the most bland and attractive; youcan so order it that contact with the world shall never sully them.Yes, you--the mother--can prevent the evil and nurture the good. Youcan teach that child--you can rear it, discipline it. You can makeyour offspring so love you, that the memory of your piety shallprevent their wickedness, and the hallowed recollection of yourgoodness stimulate their own.
And equally in your power is it to neglect your child. By sufferingpleasure to lure you--by following the follies of fashion, or by thecharm of those baubles which the world presents to the eye, butkeeps from your grasp--you may neglect your child. But you haveneglected a plain and positive duty--a duty which is engraven onyour heart and wound into your nature: and a duty neglected is sure,sooner or later, to come back again as an avenger to punish; while,on the other hand, a duty performed to the best of the abilityreturns back to the performer laden with a blessing.
But it may be said, how are children to be trained in order thathappiness may be the result?
It is quite impossible to lay down rules for the management ofchildren; since those which would serve for guidance in regulatingthe conduct of one child, would work the worst results when appliedto another. But we mention a few particulars.
The grand secret in the management of children is to treat them asreasonable beings. We see that they are governed by hope, fear, andlove: these feelings, then, should be made the instruments by whichtheir education is conducted. Whenever it is possible (and it isvery rarely that it is not), a reason should be given for everyrequirement, and a motive for the undertaking any task: this wouldlead the child to see that nothing was demanded out of caprice orwhim, but that it was a requirement involving happiness as well asduty.
This method would also teach the child to reverence and respect theparent. She would be regarded as possessed of superior knowledge;and he would the more readily undertake demands for which he couldsee no reason, from a knowledge that no commands of which heunderstood the design were ever unreasonable.
The manner of behaving to children should be one of kindness, thoughmarked by decision of character. An over fondness should never allowa mother to gratify her child in any thing unreasonable; and afterhaving once refused a request--which she should not do hastily orunadvisedly--no coaxing or tears should divert her from her purpose;for if she gives way, the child will at once understand that he hasa power over his mother, and will resort to the same expedientwhenever occasion may require; and a worse evil than this is, thatrespect for the parent will be lost, and the child, in place ofyielding readily to her wishes, will try means of trick and evasionto elude them.
In order to really manage a child well, a mother should become achild herself; she should enter into its hopes and fears, and shareits joys and sorrows; she should bend down her mind to that of heroffspring, so as to be pleased with all those trivial actions whichgive it pleasure, and to sorrow over those which bring it pain. Thiswould secure a love firm and ardent, and at the same time lasting;for as a child advanced in strength of intellect, so might themother, until the child grew old enough to understand the ties whichbound them; and then, by making him a friend, she would bind him toher for life.
There are none of the human race so sagacious and keen sighedas children: they seem to understand intuitively a person'sdisposition, and they quickly notice any discrepancies orinconsistencies of conduct. On this point should particularattention be paid, that there be nothing practised to cheat thechild. Underhand means are frequently resorted to, to persuade achild to perform or abstain from some particular duty or object; butin a very short time it will be found out, and the child has beentaught a lesson in deception which it will not fail to use whenoccasion requires.
And under this head might be included all that petty species ofdeceit used towards children, whether to mislead their apprehension,or to divert their attention. If any thing be improper for a childto know or do, better tell him so at once, than resort to anunderhand expedient. If a reason can be given for requiring theabstinence; it should; but if not tell the child that the reason issuch that he could not comprehend it, and he will remain satisfied.But if trick or scheming be resorted to, the child will have learnedthe two improper lessons of first being cunning, and then telling afalsehood to avoid it.
In whatever way you wish to act upon a child, always propose thehighest and noblest motive--this will generally be a motive whichcentres in God. Thus, in teaching a child to speak the truth, itshould be proposed not so much out of obedience to parents, as outof obedience to God; and in all requirements the love and fear ofGod should be prominently set forth.
A child is born with feelings of religion; and if these feelings areproperly called forth, the actions will generally have a tendency togood. Thus, with a child whose disposition is to deceive, a motherhas no hold upon such an one; for the child will soon perceive thathis mother cannot follow him every where, and that he can commitwith impunity many actions of deceit. But, impress the child withthe truth that a Being is watching these actions, and that thoughdone with the greatest cunning, they cannot be committed withimpunity, and it is more than probable that they will never becommitted at all. A temptation may be thrown in the way of such achild, but it will not be powerful enough to overcome the feelingthat the action is watched. That child may eagerly pant to performthe forbidden action, or to partake of the forbidden pleasure; buthe will not be able to rid himself of the feeling that it cannot bedone without being observed. He will stand in a state of anxiety,and steal a glance around, in order to see the Being he feels islooking upon him, and every breeze that murmurs will be a voice tochide him, and every leaf that whistles will seem a footstep, andnever will he be able to break the restraint; for wherever he goesand whatever he does, he will feel that his actions are watched byone who will punish the bad and reward the good.
And in the same way might this be applied to all dispositions andfeelings. How cheering is it to a timid child to be told that at notime is he left alone: but that the Being who made every thingpreserves and keeps every thing, and that nothing can happen but byhis permission! This is to disarm fear of its terrors, and toimplant a confidence in the mind, for the child will feel that whilehis actions are good he is under the protection of an AlmightyParent. In the same way, in stimulating a child to the performanceof a duty, the end proposed should be the favour of God. This wouldinsure the duty being entered upon with a right spirit--not merelyfor the sake of show and effect, but springing from the heart andthe mind--and, at the same time, it would prevent any thing ofhypocrisy. If it were only the estimation of the world which was tobe regarded, a child could soon understand that the applause wouldbe gained by the mere exterior performance, be the motive what itmight: but when the motive is centered in God, it is readilyunderstood that the feeling must be genuine; otherwise, whatever theworld may say, God will look upon it as unworthy and base. Webelieve it would be found to work the best results, if all theactions of a child were made thus to depend upon their harmony withthe will of God; for it would give a sacredness to every action,make every motive a high and holy one, and harmonise the thoughts ofthe heart with the actions of the life.
But in this mode of teaching, it is essentially necessary that amother should herself be an example of the truth she teaches. Itwill be worse than useless to teach a child that God is always athand, 'and spieth out all our ways,' if she act as though she didnot believe in the existence of a Deity.
In the same way will it hold good of every requirement. It will bevain to teach a child that lying is a great crime in God's sight,when a mother in her own words shows no regard to truth; and equallyso of all other passions and feelings. It is idle to teach a childthat pride--hatred--revenge--anger, are unholy passions, if amother's own conduct displays either of them. How useless is it toteach that vanity should never be indulged in, when a motherdelights in display! Such instruction as this is like the web ofPenelope--unpicked as fast as done. The greatest reverence is due toa child; and previously to becoming a teacher, a mother should learnthis hardest of all lessons--'Know thyself.' Without this, theinstruction she gives her children will at best prove veryimperfect. It is quite useless to teach children to reverence anything, when a mother's conduct shows that, practically at least, shehas no belief in the truths she inculcates. And a very hardrequirement this is: but it is a requirement absolutely necessary,if education is meant to be any thing more than nominal. The finestlesson on the beauty of truth is enforced by a mother never herselfsaying what is false; for children pay great regard to consistency,and very soon detect any discrepancies between that which is taughtand that which is practised.
The best method of inculcating truth on the minds of children is byanalogy and illustration. They cannot follow an argument, thoughthey readily understand a comparison: and, by a judiciousarrangement, every thing, either animate or inanimate, might be madeto become a teacher. What lesson on industry would be so likely tobe instructive as that gathered from a bee-hive? The longestdissertation on the evils of idleness and the advantages of industrywould not prove half so beneficial as directing the observation tothe movements of the bee--that ever-active insect, which, withoutthe aid of reason, exercises prudence and foresight, and providesagainst the wants of winter. A child will readily understand suchinstruction as this, and will blush to be found spending precioushours in idleness. And in the same way with other duties, whether toGod or mankind, the fowls of the air and the flowers of the fieldmight be made profitable teachers, and the child would, wherever hewent, be surrounded with instruction.
This mode of teaching has this special recommendation--it raises upno evil passions: and a child which would display an evil temper bybeing reproved in words, will feel no such rancor at a lesson beinginculcated in a way like this.
This instruction will also be much longer remembered than onedelivered in words, forasmuch as the object upon which theinstruction is based would be continually presented to the eye.
And, we believe, almost all duties might be inculcated in thismanner. Thus, humility by the lily, patience by the spider,affection by the dove, love to parents by the stork,--all might berendered teachers, and in a way never to be forgotten. And that thismode of teaching is the best, we have the example of Christ himself,who almost invariably enforced his instructions by an allusion tosome created thing. What, for instance, was so likely to teach mendependence upon God as a reference to the 'ravens and the lilies,'which without the aid of reason had their wants cared for? And inthe same way with children--what is so likely to teach them theirduties, as a reference to the varied things in nature with whoseuses and habits they are well acquainted?
God should be the object upon which the child's thoughts are taughtto dwell--for the minds even of children turn to the beautiful, andthe beautiful is the Divine. All thoughts and actions should beraised to this standard; and the child would raise above thefeelings of self-gratification and vanity, and the panting forapplause, to the favor and love of God. Thus should religion be thegreat and the first thing taught; and a mother should be carefulthat neither in her own actions, nor in the motives she holds out toher children, should there be any thing inimical or contrary toreligion.
And by this course the best and happiest results may be expected tofollow. The perverse and headstrong passions of the human heart areso many, that numerous instructions may seem to be useless, and amother may have often to sigh over her child as she sees himallowing evil habits to obtain the mastery, or unholy dispositionsto reign in his heart; but, as we have before said, we do not thinkthat the instruction will be lost, but that a time will come whenshe will reap the fruits of her toil, care and anxiety.
Such then is the duty of woman as a mother--to tend and watch overthe wants of her child, to guard it in health, to nurse it insickness, to be solicitous for it in all the changes of life, and toprevent, as much as possible, those many ills to which flesh is heirfrom assailing her fondly cherished offspring.
It is also her province to instruct her children in those dutieswhich will fall to their lot both as reasonable and as immortalcreatures; and by so doing she will make her own life happy--leaveto her children a happy heritage on earth, and a prospect of ahigher one in heaven. But if a mother neglect her duty, she willreap the fruits of her own negligence in the ingratitude of herchildren--an ingratitude which will bring a double pain to her, fromthe thought that her own neglect was the cause of its growth, as aneagle with an arrow in his heart might be supposed to feel an agonyabove that of pain on seeing the shaft now draining its life's bloodfeathered from its own wing.
Mrs. Child, in her excellent "Mother's Book," a volume that shouldbe in the hands of every woman who has assumed the responsibilitiesof a parent, gives some valuable suggestions on the subject ofgoverning children. I make a single extract and with it close mypresent rambling work. She says:
"Some children, from errors in early management, get possessed withthe idea that they may have every thing. They even tease for thingsit would be impossible to give them. A child properly managed willseldom 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, thebest 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 becareful to give him such things as he likes, (provided they areproper for him,) when he does not ask for them. This will soon breakhim 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 theunderstanding. The victims of oppression and abuse are generallystupid, as well as selfish and hard-hearted. How can we wonder atit? They are all the time excited to evil passions, and nobodyencourages what is good in them. We might as well expect flowers togrow amid the cold and storm of winter.
"But gentleness, important as it is, is not all that is required ineducation. There should be united with it firmness--great firmness.Commands should be reasonable, and given in perfect kindness; butonce given, it should be known that they must be obeyed. I heard alady once say, 'For my part, I cannot be so very strict with mychildren. I love them too much to punish them every time theydisobey 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 wasvery busy preparing for company. Her children knew by experiencethat when she was in a hurry she would indulge them in any thing forthe sake of having them out of the way. George began, 'Mother, Iwant 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 youwill sit down and be still.' The boy ate his cake; and liking thesystem of being hired to sit still, he soon began again, 'Mother, Iwant a piece of mince-pie.' The old answer was repeated. The childstood his ground, 'Mother, I want a piece of mince-pie--I want apiece--I want a piece,' was repeated incessantly. 'Will you leaveoff teasing, If I give you a piece?' 'Yes, I will--certain true,' Asmall 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, younaughty boy. You always act the worst when I am going to havecompany.' George continued his teasing; and at last said, 'If youdon't give me another piece, I'll roar.' This threat not beingattended to, he kept his word. Upon this, the mother seized him bythe shoulder, shook him angrily, saying, 'Hold your tongue, younaughty boy!' 'I will if you will give me another piece of pie,'said he. Another small piece was given him, after he had promisedthat he certainly would not tease any more. As soon as he had eatenit, he, of course, began again; and with the additional threat, 'Ifyou don't give me a piece, I will roar after the company comes, soloud that they can all hear me.' The end of all this was, that theboy had a sound whipping, was put to bed, and could not sleep allnight, because the mince-pie made his stomach ache. What anaccumulation of evils in this little scene! His health injured--hispromises broken with impunity--his mother's promises broken--theknowledge gained that he could always vex her when she was in ahurry--and that he could gain what he would by teasing. He alwaysacted upon the same plan afterward; for he only once in a while(when he made his mother very angry) got a whipping; but he wasalways sure to obtain what he asked for, if he teased her longenough. His mother told him the plain truth, when she said themince-pie would hurt him; but he did not know whether it was thetruth, or whether she only said it to put him off; for he knew thatshe did sometimes deceive. When she gave him the pie, he had reasonto suppose it was not true it would hurt him--else why should a kindmother give it to her child? Had she told him that if he asked asecond time, she would put him to bed directly--and had she kept herpromise, in spite of entreaties--she would have saved him awhipping, and herself a great deal of unnecessary trouble. And whocan calculate all the whippings, and all the trouble, she would havespared herself and him? I do not remember ever being in her househalf a day without witnessing some scene of contention with thechildren.
"Now let me introduce you to another acquaintance. She was inprecisely the same situation, having a comfortable income and onedomestic; but her children were much more numerous, and she had hadvery limited advantages for education. Yet she managed her familybetter than any woman I ever saw, or ever expect to see again. Iwill relate a scene I witnessed there, by way of contrast to the oneI have just described. Myself and several friends once entered herparlor unexpectedly, just as the family were seated at thesupper-table. A little girl, about four years old, was obliged to beremoved, to make room for us. Her mother assured her she should haveher supper in a little while, if she was a good girl. The childcried; and the guests insisted that room should be made for her attable. 'No,' said the mother; 'I have told her she must wait; and ifshe cries, I shall be obliged to send her to bed. If she is a goodlittle girl, she shall have her supper directly.' The child couldnot make up her mind to obey; and her mother led her out of theroom, and gave orders that she should be put to bed without supper.When my friend returned, her husband said, 'Hannah, that was a hardcase. The poor child lost her supper, and was agitated by thepresence of strangers. I could hardly keep from taking her on myknee, and giving her some supper. Poor little thing! But I neverwill interfere with your management; and much as it went against myfeelings, I entirely approve of what you have done.' 'It cost me astruggle,' replied his wife; 'but I know it is for the good of thechild to be taught that I mean exactly what I say.'
"This family was the most harmonious, affectionate, happy family Iever knew. The children were managed as easily as a flock of lambs.After a few unsuccessful attempts at disobedience, when very young,they gave it up entirely; and always cheerfully acted from theconviction that their mother knew best. This family was governedwith great strictness; firmness was united with gentleness. Theindulgent mother, who said she loved her children too much to punishthem, was actually obliged to punish them ten times as much as thestrict mother did."
THE END.
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