Gentle Measures in the Management and Training of the Young | Page 9

when years
have passed away, and the mother is perhaps in her grave, her sons
think of her with a mingled feeling excited by the conjoined
remembrance of her helpless imbecility and of her true maternal love,
and say to each other, with a smile, "Poor dear mother! what a time she
had of it trying to govern us boys!"
If a mother is willing to have her children thus regard her with
contempt pure and simple while they are children, and with contempt
transformed into pity by the infusion of a tardy sentiment of gratitude,
when they are grown, she may try the plan of endeavoring to secure
their love by indulging them without governing them. But if she sets
her heart on being the object through life of their respectful love, she
may indulge them as much as she pleases; but she must govern them.
Indulgence.
A great deal is said sometimes about the evils of indulgence in the
management of children; and so far as the condemnation refers only to
indulgence in what is injurious or evil, it is doubtless very just. But the
harm is not in the indulgence itself--that is, in the act of affording
gratification to the child--but in the injurious or dangerous nature of the
things indulged in. It seems to me that children are not generally
indulged enough. They are thwarted and restrained in respect to the

gratification of their harmless wishes a great deal too much. Indeed, as
a general rule, the more that children are gratified in respect to their
childish fancies and impulses, and even their caprices, when no evil or
danger is to be apprehended, the better.
When, therefore, a child asks, "May I do this?" or, "May I do that?" the
question for the mother to consider is not whether the thing proposed is
a wise or a foolish thing to do--that is, whether it would be wise or
foolish for her, if she, with her ideas and feelings, were in the place of
the child--but only whether there is any harm or danger in it; and if not,
she should give her ready and cordial consent.
Antagonism between Free Indulgence and Absolute Control.
There is no necessary antagonism, nor even any inconsistency, between
the freest indulgence of children and the maintenance of the most
absolute authority over them. Indeed, the authority can be most easily
established in connection with great liberality of indulgence. At any
rate, it will be very evident, on reflection, that the two principles do not
stand at all in opposition to each other, as is often vaguely supposed.
Children may be greatly indulged, and yet perfectly governed. On the
other hand, they may be continually checked and thwarted, and their
lives made miserable by a continued succession of vexations,
restrictions, and refusals, and yet not be governed at all. An example
will, however, best illustrate this.
Mode of Management with Louisa.
A mother, going to the village by a path across the fields, proposed to
her little daughter Louisa to go with her for a walk.
Louisa asked if she might invite her Cousin Mary to go too. "Yes," said
her mother; "I think she is not at home; but you can go and see, if you
like."
Louisa went to see, and returned in a few minutes, saying that Mary
was not at home.

"Never mind," replied her mother; "it was polite in you to wish to invite
her."
They set out upon the walk. Louisa runs hither and thither over the
grass, returning continually to her mother to bring her flowers and
curiosities. Her mother looks at them all, seems to approve of, and to
sympathize in, Louisa's wonder and delight, and even points out new
charms in the objects which she brings to her, that Louisa had not
observed.
At length Louisa spied a butterfly.
"Mother," said she, "here's a butterfly. May I run and catch him?"
"You may try," said her mother.
Louisa ran till she was tired, and then came back to her mother, looking
a little disappointed.
"I could not catch him, mother."
"Never mind," said her mother, "you had a good time trying, at any rate.
Perhaps you will see another by-and-by. You may possibly see a bird,
and you can try and see if you can catch him."
So Louisa ran off to play again, satisfied and happy.
A little farther on a pretty tree was growing, not far from the path on
one side. A short, half-decayed log lay at the foot of the tree,
overtopped and nearly concealed by a growth of raspberry-bushes,
grass, and wild flowers.
"Louisa," said the mother, "do you see that tree with the pretty flowers
at the foot of it?"
"Yes, mother."
"I would rather not have you go