PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION,
DRAWN FROM
NATURE AND REVELATION,
AND APPLIED TO
FEMALE EDUCATION IN THE UPPER CLASSES.
BY
THE AUTHOR OF "AMY HERBERT"
AND OTHER TALES;
" THIE FIRST HISTORY OF ROME; " "NIGHT LESSONS FROM SCRIPTURE;  " H;HISTORY OF
THE EARLY CHURCH; " ETC. ETC.
~%<,? a                cs, ~ 
TWO VOLUMES IN ONE.
NEW YORK:
D. APPLETON AND  COMPANY,
443 & 445 BROADWAY.
1866. 
k 
THIS volume is the result not of theory, but of experience. If it had been otherwise, it would never
have been offered to the world. Education is too important a matter for theory. The risks of mistake are too
fatal.
But when the Providence of God has forced upon us
the practical consideration of a particular subject, and
given us opportunities for testing the principles on which
we have acted, it can scarcely be presumptuous to bring
the conclusions at which we have arrived-whether through
success or failure-into a definite form that may possibly
be useful to others.
And there are occasionally periods in life when, after
having waited in the earnest hope that some other person
would give utterance to opinions and facts generally ignored, though fully known, we are at last urged to speak
ourselves, from the sense of a necessity which no longer
admits of delay.
Under a feeling of this kind some things contained in
PREFACE.
i
AI 
PREFACE.
the following pages have been written. Whether what
has been said is true or false, wise or unwise, the world
must judge: but the one sole desire of the writer has
been to base the principles of education upon the teaching
of God in Nature and Revelation.
It is this teaching alone which can make any advice
authoritative. But we must all gain strength and confidence in the work of education by discovering-if we are
able to do so-that the laws for the training and government of children, which we have gathered from general
opinion and tradition, or worked out by personal experience and the efforts of our individual intellect, are really
no other than those primary laws upon which the One
Great Ruler of all has based His own Government, and
which are only not seen and acknowledged generally, because they work so naturally and uniformly that we submit to without being conscious of them.
BoNCHUrCH, May 15,1865.
iv 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER L.
THE OBJECT OF EDUCATION.
PAGE
1
Meaning of Education.-System.-Distinct Characteristics
CHAPTER II.
SCRIPTURE CHARACTERS.
Character of Josepb, Moes, St. Paul.-Illustrations of the Working of System.
CHAPTER III.
PRINCIPLES AND RULES.
Secondary Laws.-Principles of their Right Application.-Spoilt Children
CHAPTER IV.
OBEDIENCE.
Definition of Obedience.-Basis of Obedience.-Obligation of Abstract Law.   Government by Law, and Government by Will....
CHAPTER V.
OBEDIENCE (continued).
Natural Punishments.-Duty.-Extent of the Moral Law.
CHAPTER VI.
J7USTICE.
Justice of God.-Home Injustice.-Sources of Injustice 
9
25
40
49
. 57 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VII,
LOVE EXHIBITED IN TENDERNESS AND SYMPATHY.
PAGE
65
Necessity of Love in Education.-Love exhibited in Two Forms.-Scripture II   lastrations.-Tenderness.-Sympathy...
CHAPTER VIIL
REPROOF.
Dislike of Reproof.-Scripture Illustrations.-Different Forms of Reproof   Necessity of Reproof.....           I
CHAPTER IX.
FORGIVENESS.
General Idea of Forgiveness.-Scripture Illustrations.-Forgiveness and Pun   ishment......
CHAPTER X.
ADVICE.
The Nature of Evil.-Best Mode of dealing with Faults.-Scripture Illustra   tIon.- Duty of giving Advice....
CHAPTER XI.
TRAINING.
The  True Principle of Right Training.-Scripture Illustrations. —Praise.   Respect.......      120
CHAPTER XII.
CONFIDENCE AND RESPONSIBILITY.
Scripture Examples of Confidence.-Home Confidence.-Effect of Responsi   bility.-Freedom of Action.-Working for the Future.-Blindness to
Duties.........  133
CHAPTER XIII.
HRUMAN FAITH.
Meaning of Faith.-Importance of Reason.-Scripture Illustrations.-Working
of Reason and Faith in Childhood.....
CHAPTER XIV.
RESPECT.
Social Respect.-Grounds of Respect.-Scripture Illustrations.-Effeet of recog   nizing Relative Position.-Respect in Childhood.-Union of Love and
Respect.........
vi
87
102
110
164
108 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XV.
TRUTH.
PAGE
Peculiar Character of Truth.-Scriptural Recognition of Truth.-Sources of Un   trtithfulness.-Mode of dealing with different forms of Untruthfulness.  182
CHAPTER  XVI.
EDUCATION IN JUSTICE AS THE ANTIDOTE TO SELFISHNESS.
Self-Love and Selfishness.-Education in Selfishness.-Generosity
CHAPTER XVII.
EDUCATION IN JUSTIEOR AS THE ANTIDOTE TO PREJUDIOE AND ILLIBERALITY.
General View of Social Duties.-Unprejudice.-Providential Teaching.
CHAPTER XVIII.
PRIDE.
Self-Respect.-True Humility.-Family Pride
CHAPTER XIX.
PRIDE (continued).'
The Intellectual as compared with the Moral Powers.-Worship of Intellect.   Conceit.-Mode of dealing with it.-Female Conceit.-St Paul's self-estima   tion.......  284
CHAPTER XX.
VANITY.
Love of Approbation and Love of Admiration.-Rules for the uprooting of Van   ity.-Day Dreams.-Emulation.-Personal Vanity.-Dress.-Worldliness.
CHAPTER XXL
TEPER.
Violent Passion. -Obstinacy.-Perverseness.-Irritability. -Sullenness and
Moodiness.-Jealonsy.-Humouring Bad Temper....  264
CHAPTER XXII.
PURITY.
Condition of English Society.-The Real Meaning of Purity.-The T  hing of
the Bible and of the World.-Nursery and Schoolroom Education.-Fast
Girls.-Consequences of Early Knowledge of Evil.-Modern Literature.   Analogy between Physical and Moral Purity,-Curiosity.-Guidance.  277
vii
. 210
220
22T
248 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XXIII.
LOVE.
PAGE
Schoolroom Training.-Romance and Reality.-Simplicity.-Advantages of free
Social Intercourse.-Novels.-Marriage....  805
CHAPTER XXIV.
FRIENDSHIP.
Young Friendships.-Love of Relations -Sympathy with Friendship.-Claims
of Relationship recognized by Nature and Revelation.-Nursery Quarrels.
-The Education of Providence....
CHAPTER XXV.
THE PRINCIPLE OF RELIGION.
Religion and Morality.-The Religion of Childhood.-Religious Training of the
Jews.-The Repentance of Childhood.-Effect of the Jewish Sacrifices upon
the Mind.-Abstract  Religious Ideas.-Prayer.-The Child's Relation to
God.........
CHAPTER XXVI.
DEFINITE RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION.
Outward Reverence.-Reading the Scriptures.-Attendance at Church.-The
Lord's Day.-Sunday Employments.-Aids to Real Feeling...  859
CHAPTER XXVII.
DEFINITE RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION (continued).
MIoulds for Religious Feeling.-Grounds of Belief.-Effect of Confirmect Belief.
-Seasons of Devotional Feeling.-Unreality.-Tolerance...
CHAPTER XXVIII.
SCHOOLS AND PRIVATE PUPILS.
Education and Instruction.-True View of the Work of a Governess.-Pecuniary
Remuneration.-Cheap Schools.-School Profits.-School Education gener   ally.........
CHAPTER XXIX.
SCHOOLS AND PRIVATE PUPILS (continued)..
Day Schools.-Trouble to be undertaken by Mothers.-Duty of Fathers to pre   pare their Daughters for the Future.-Effect upon Education generally.   400
Nliii
330
842
371
886 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XXX.
GOVERNESSES IN FAMILIES.
Position of a Governess in a Private Family.-Salary.-Comforts.-Relation to
the Children........  410
CHAPTER XXXI.
THE TRAINING OF GOVEENESSES.
Superficial Education.-Instruction by Men.-Training for Governesses.-Em   ployment for Women generally.....
CHAPTER  XXXII.
INSTEIRUCTION.
Exactness.-Memory.-Comparative Powers of Girls and Boys.-A Father's
Instructlon.-The Requirements of Fashion.-Conversation.-History.   Geography.-Lectures.......
CONCLUSION.
Disappointment.-Its Causes.-Reward
1x
423
443
.  465 
k 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
CHAPTER I.
THE OBJECT OF EDUCATION.
IT is written in the Book of Ecclesiastes, " there is no new
thing under the sun." 1 That which we call new is but a
fresh combination of old materials-a fresh deduction from
facts previously known. And if this is true in politics, science, and art, so is it much more true in morals. For morality is a system, not, like the discoveries of science, perfected through the workings of different minds in different ages,
but complete in itself from its very commencement. To the
commandments of God nothing can be added, and from them
nothing can be subtracted.   Education, therefore, which, according to the usual acceptation of the word, may be termed
the guiding or leading of the young mind in the way which
will best enable it to obey the commandments of God, can by
no possibility be founded upon any principles in the nineteenth
century which were not equally in existence, and equally binding, at the time when, after the Fall, man's present state of
probation began. Of every book upon education it may justly be said, " that which is true is not new, and that which is
I Eccles. i. 9.
1 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
new is not true." And from this consideration it would at
first sight follow, as a natural consequence, that to bring before
the world any remarks upon a subject acknowledged to be
thus exhausted, must be not only useless but wearisome. If
we can only say what others have said before us, why waste
our time in the repetition? There is but one answer to this objection. Every age, and every phase of society, has its own
characteristics, its own dangers, and its wn fallacies, and
will therefore necessarily view the subject of education in a
manner peculiar to what may be called its own idiosyncrasies.
In the days of chivalry, education was carried on through
the medium of the training which pages and squires received in
the castles of the feudal barons, and the instruction given to
young maidens by the lady who presided over the mysteries
of leechcraft, and the intricacies of tapestry-work. A book
upon education, written at the time of the Crusades, if such
could be found, even though it might embody the soundest
principles, would, except by a few thoughtful persons, be regarded merely as a literary curiosity. It would have little or
no influence upon the present generation, simply because, however true, it would not meet its necessities. And in a similar
though in a less degree, the educational books even of a hundred years ago are likely to be regarded rather as quaint than
instructive.
The remarks addressed to our great-grandfathers and grandmothers, as they sat in upright chairs, never resting against
the backs, seem misapplied to us, as we lounge upon sofas, or
luxuriate in every imaginable form of easy position.   The
cautions needful in days when drinking was a fashionable
vice, and coarseness of thought and action was openly tolerated, are inapplicable to a state of society in which selfrestraint is demanded by the laws of society, and language,
however insidious and suggestive, must, as a first requirement,
be polished. 
The age of railroads and electric telegraphs has needs as
it has duties of its own; and before any ideas upon education
2 
THE OBJECT OF EDUCATION.
can affect the generation of the day, they must be clothed in
the words to which it is accustomed to hearken, and illustrated
by the allusions with which it is familiar.
But whilst this reason for the repetition of old truths under
new forms certainly exists, the fundamental fact that the object
of education has in all ages been recognized to be the same,
remains unaltered; and it is consequently evident, that before
any advantage can be derived from an inquiry into the principles on which education is to be conducted, it must be thoroughly understood what the object is at which it aims. Theories
and systems may be clever, ingenious, and plausible; they
may  even produce results highly satisfactory in a certain
sense; but if those results are not such as were sought for, the
theories and systems must be confessed to be failures.
To educate rightly is, as it has been said, to guide and lead
the young mind in the way which will best enable it to obey
the commandments of God. This will probably be acknowledged by all serious and thoughtful persons as an explanation
fundamentally correct, although there may be differences of
opinion as to the mode of its expression.
Will it be considered a startling assertion to add, that this
is in reality only a secondary object?-that there is another
for which we must and do work every hour, every moment, in
the secrecy of our hearts, in the depths of our privacy, amid
the turmoil of business and the distractions of pleasure, in the
haunts of vice and in the sanctuary of God?-an object which
on this side of the grave we can never know; which, if we
did know, we could never hope to understand; but which is
true, enduring, unalterable, as the Eternal Counsels of the
Almighty, since it belongs to an Omniscience which has foreseen the end of every human being from the beginning; and
according to that foreknowledge, though not apart from human will, has prepared the sphere in which throughout Eternity he shall fulfil the purpose for which not earth only, but theuniverse-not man alone, but the angels, were created.
Bishop Butler remarks that, in considering the constitution
3 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
of this present world, " we must acknowledge that as there is
not any action or natural event, which we are acquainted with,
so single and unconnected as not to have a respect to some
other actions and events; so, possibly, each of them, when it
has not an immediate, may yet have a remote natural relation
to other actions and events, much beyond the compass of this
present world." 1 And he adds, that further thought will
" lead us to consider this little scene of human life, in which
we are so busily engaged, as having a reference, of some sort
or other, to a much larger plan of things. Whether we are
any way related to the more distant parts of the boundless
universe into which we are brought, is altogether uncertain;
but it is evident that the course of things which comes within
our view is connected with somewhat past, present, and
future, beyond it. So that we are placed, as one may speak,
in the middle of a scheme, not a fixed, but a progressive one;
every way incomprehensible; incomprehensible, in a manner,
equally with respect to what has been, to what now is, and
what shiall be hereafter." 3
Being thus incomprehensible, we might suppose that a
conviction, however strong, of the existence of such a scheme,
would exercise but little influence on our actions at present.
We may possibly, probably even certainly, be working for
the completion of some mighty purpose of the Most High;
but if we know not what it is, it must be to us as if it were
not. Such would be the first hurried reasoning of our minds.
Yet more careful consideration will, in all likelihood, bring us
to a different conclusion.   The conviction that every individual redeemed through the Blood of Christ has a place
marked out for him, duties to be performed, trusts to be fulfilled, purposes for which he is to work in the life on which he
will enter at the Resurrection, though it may not directly influence our conduct with regard to our earthly life, must and
ought to do so as regards our preparation for Heaven. And
1  Analogy, Part I., conclusion.
4
Analo-y, Part I., chap. vii. 
THE OBJECT OF EDUCATION.
looking upon education as but another term for such preparation, one effect which it will probably have will be that of
destroying our confidence in systems, as distinguished from
principles.
The present age is one which may peculiarly be called the
age of systems. Everything undertaken, more especially if it
refers to the training of the young, is to be carried on upon
some definite plan. This is a fact so commonly recognized,
that one of the formulas of inquiry used, when persons are
anxious to gain information from those who undertake to educate, is what system they pursue? It is the vaguest of all
vague questions. It may mean-Do you give your lessons in
French or English?  Is your aim classical or scientific?  Hlave
you paid teachers, or do you instruct yourself? Or, it may
also mean-Do you trust to discipline as your motive power,
or do you depend wholly upon love? Do you carry out
strictly the doctrines and rules of the Church; or, on the
other hand, do you profess to be a so-called Liberal, recognizing all creeds and all sects without distinction? And as the
question is vague, so, necessarily, the answers given will be
vague; but the very fact that the inquiry is thought necessary
proves that the existence of systems is recognized as a fundamental basis of education.
And why should it not be?
The answer will best be given by examining into the aim
and the advantages of system. A system is a mode of action
by which it is supposed we shall be able to attain, in the most
direct manner and the most perfect degree, some specified object. If a young man intends to enter the army, he is sent to
a military college; there he is instructed in certain branches
of knowledge, and drilled according to certain rules. Whether
he is vicious or virtuous, clever or dull, a fixed system is provided, and upon that he is trained. The one object is to make
him a good soldier; and if a hundred young men present them —
selves, in the course of the year, as destined for the army, the
same rules, with regard to military duties, will be applied to
5 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
all alike. The aim is clear, the system has been well considered, and the result is, therefore, upon the whole, satisfactory.
So it is with all other professions-with all trades and
occupations. Give a definite object, and a system is not only
desirable, but necessary; perfection cannot be attained without it.
But if, as it has been suggested with regard to the training
of the young, we know nothing of our ultimate object; if the
purpose for which we are to labour is hidden; if the results to
be finally produced are utterly beyond our comprehension,then are systems not aids, but stumbling-blocks; not good,
but infinitely mischievous.
This may be seen more clearly if we consider that in the
idea of a definite and peculiar moral system of education there
is always involved the exaltation of some one guiding principle
above, if not apart from, others.
As, with the heathen Stoic, indifference to worldly enjoyments was recognized as the one chief element of goodness,
and with the Christian Jesuit obedience is considered the
virtue to which all others must bow; so, in the present day,
we sometimes hear of love, or reverence, or honour, or the
sense of duty, without reference to rewards, spoken of as the
mainsprings by which the whole machinery of education is to
be worked. And being, as they are, principles excellent in
themselves, we may perhaps have wondered why it is that in
almost all cases the peculiar systems based upon them are
found in the end to fail.
May it not be for this reason? A system, whatever it
may be, must, so far as it is a system, act without regard to
the varieties of character; it must aim at producing the same
tone of mind in every individual subjected to its influence;
and the first elementary truth in education-because lying at
the foundation, as it would appear, of all God's dealings with
man, and all His purposes for him-is that we are neither required, nor intended, to have the same tone of mind.   Har
6 
THE OBJECT OF EDUCATION.
mony, not melody, is the object of creation; and if we strive
for melody, we shall but end in producing discord.
But it may, perhaps, be said, the command given us is,
"Be ye perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is
perfect." 1 If, therefore, the perfection of God consists, as we
know it does, in the equal balance of all His attributes, is it
not each man's duty to strive, so far as he may, to attain a
similar balance in his own character?
Unquestionably; and yet it is most probably true that the
actual attainment of such an equal balance by every human
being would be inconsistent with the mysterious purposes of
God in creation.
For we must remember that there are two kinds of perfection-perfection in degree, and perfection in kind. God alone
is perfect in degree; His creatures are only perfect in kind.
All goodness, all power, all beauty, are included in the idea
of the one great Maker and Father of all. To His children
He gives certain portions of this perfection, so that they may
exhibit different phases of it; and this distinguishing giftwhether energy, or love, or generosity, or the spirit of selfsacrifice, or whatever it may be-is essential, as marking the
kind of perfection for which the individual is destined. But
as, in consequence of human imperfection, every strong natural inclination has a tendency to exaggeration, and consequently to sin, therefore this peculiar characteristic requires
to be balanced by others, to be checked and trained-not in
order to annihilate it, for that would be attempting to thwart
the will of God in its creation-but that it may be kept in such
just proportion as to fit it for the work to which it is destined.
We see the use of such strong tendencies, and yet the necessity of keeping them in due proportion to the rest of the character, in the working of human affairs. A man is, we will
suppose, gifted with certain qualities which enable him to plan
and carry out a wise and benevolent work.  Without these he
1 St. Matt. v. 48.
7 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
could not have succeeded; and yet these very same qualities,
if not controlled and balanced, will in the end outgrow their
usefulness, and ultimately mar the very object which at first
they helped to attain. To aim at a perfectly equal balance
of character is therefore absolutely necessary, whilst, at the
same time, to attain it is impossible. There is a book from
which we draw our wisest maxims of morality, and which we
profess to make our chief guide in education, that might-if
we would give ourselves the trouble to examine it-lead us to
some very manifest conclusions upon the subject. The Bible
has many offices to perform; none, perhaps, may be more important, in a secondary degree, than that of setting before us
the mode in which the All-Wise God has seen fit to train individual characters. And when we look into it with this idea
in our minds, one fact strikes us at the outset-that whatever
such training may have been, it did in no way tend to destroy
the marked distinction in intellect, temper, affection, between
man  and man.   Abraham, Joseph, Moses, Samuel, David,
Hezekiah, Jeremiah, St. Peter, St. Paul, St. John-how separately, how vividly, they stand forth before us! How evident
is the action and reaction of their natural dispositions, and
the circumstances in which they were placed!  How entirely
are they the same persons-exhibiting the same special characteristics throughout the whole course of their lives!
This will be seen more plainly if we examine one or two
instances more minutely. Joseph, Moses, and St. Paul were
persons who filled most prominent parts in the history of God's
dealings with man. They were trained, if the expression may
with reverence be permitted, under the especial Eye of God,
with a view to their filling very important offices on earth.
Let us consider how far such training affected their distinct
individuality.
8 
CHAPTER II.
SCRIPTURE CHARACTERS.
TuE character of Joseph is one felt more easily than it can
be described; but that human affection, both quick and deep,
was its distinguishing trait, will scarcely be disputed.   Sensitive, clinging, sympathizing, open-hearted, we follow the
course of his eventful life with a continually recurring pang
that one apparently so little fitted to endure sorrow should
have been compelled so largely to partake of it.
The marked characteristics of his disposition exhibit themselves from the very commencement of his history.   He  was
the child of Jacob's old age, and his confiding gentleness was
doubtless fostered by the tenderness lavished upon him by his
father-both for his own sake and for the memory of his
mother. When he dreamed a wonderful dream, and his
childish imagination was excited by it, the brothers who hated
him were the persons to whom he turned for sympathy; when
sent on his solitary journey to seek for tidings of them, no
feeling of dread seems to have entered his heart; and when
they carried out their cruel plans, and sold him to the Ishmaelites, there was no upbraiding: only in the anguish of his
soul he besought them, and they would not hear.
He was brought down into Egypt-a  captive-the victim
of a wrong which might well have turned every gentle feeling,
into rankling bitterness; but adversity had no such power
over him. Destined to be the ruler of a great nation, his 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
warm affections were yet in no way to be uprooted: they
needed only to be governed; and when the temptation which
presented itself was resisted, the strength which his principles
had by that resistance acquired was a safeguard for his future
life.
There is no need to continue the story in detail.   Even if
we have read it at no other time, we have probably, year by
year, as the appointed Sunday lesson occurred, looked for it
as for the "very lovely song of one that hath a pleasant
voice." 1 We have watched the rise of Joseph from a prison
to a palace, the successive interviews with his brethren, the
yearning of his heart towards them, the anxious thought for
his father, and the burst of overpowering feeling, which " the
Egyptians and the house of Pharaoh heard," when at length
the long hidden secret was revealed. It is all known to us,
all familiar, though sacred as the prayers of our infancy. But
in its sacredness we may not forget its human truthfulness.
Joseph was a man " subject to like passions as ourselves ";
and the character impressed upon him at his birth remained
with him, and can be traced till his death. If we would know
whether years and prosperity could chill the warmth of his
affections, we may think upon the grief evinced for his father's
death, the mourning "with a great and very sore lamentation,"' commemorated even by the people of the land; and
the tenderness which expended itself doubtless upon Ephraim's
children of the third generation, as well as upon the children
of "Machir the son of Manasseh," who "were brought up
upon Joseph's knees." 3
Such was the individuality of Joseph, perhaps the most interesting of all the characters in the Old Testament. That he
was a wise ruler, just and true, serving his earthly sovereign
as he served his God, and that the events of his early life fitted
him for the office he was to fulfil, are facts equally important
and instructive.  But the point which we are now called upon
IEzek. xxxiii. 32.
10
'Gen. 1. 10.
I Geia. 1. 23. 
SCRIPTURE CHARACTERS.
to remark is, that in training him, as no doubt God in His
wisdom did train him, to be the ruler of Egypt, his distinctive
qualities were left untouched, or, at least, were only guided
and cultivated. There were features of his character which,
when developed by circumstances, fitted him for the post he
was to occupy in Egypt; but there were also other and more
striking characteristics, educated by an inner discipline, which,
unless we conceive them to have had no object-an idea inconsistent with the infinite wisdom of the Creator-must have
been given him with a view to some duty or office connected
with a higher and more enduring existence.
As Joseph lived, so he died, and so he will rise again.
Can it be that his love, his tenderness, his sympathy, shall be
without purpose in Eternity?
Moses comes before us with a very different claim upon
our interest.  We are told, in the Book of Numbers, that he
was the " meekest of men"; but probably the comment which
we all make upon the words is that of wonder. We think of
Moses striking the rock in his impatience, and it would seem
that he was not meek.
Yet we must remember that meekness does not necessarily
imply insensibility or slowness of feeling, but only strict selfcontrol, united with unselfishness and sympathy. The most
excitable person may, with such counteracting qualities, become the meekest; self-control keeping the eager impulse under
subjection, until unselfishness and sympathy have had time to
make themselves heard, and by placing the irritating circumstances in a just light, to remove or soften the cause of offence.
Self-control is, however, a hard lesson; and until it is thoroughly acquired, a person born with an impetuous temperament
will be liable to sudden outbreaks of wrath. lMoses at the
beginning of his career, and at its conclusion, appears, in this
respect, like two distinct persons; and yet examination seems
to show that he never lost his natural excitability.  For it,
must be remembered that God has not implanted in our nature
any passion which, necessarily and irresistibly, leads us to sin.
11 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
Unjustifiable anger is doubtless a great offence, but the quick
feelings and the energy of disposition which, when distorted
and exaggerated, constitute sinful anger, are in themselves innocent, and may even be productive of great good. Moses,
impetuous by nature, became " the meekest of men," that is,
he learnt to control his distinctive feelings, so as not to indulge
them on wrong occasions, or in a wrong degree; but the characteristics still remained. They had a work to do on earth,
and have doubtless a work to do also in the unseen world;
and whatever may be the mysterious connection between the
glorified body and the renewed soul, and whatever the effect
of matter upon mind, we may not think that when we meet
the great Hebrew lawgiver, before the judgment seat of our
Redeemer, it will be in any form, or with any qualities, but
those which shall enable us at once to recognize him in his distinct individuality.
We will cursorily glance at his history as an evidence of
what has been asserted.
On the very first occasion when Moses is brought before
us in Scripture, his impetuosity, quick sympathy, and unselfishness, though mingled with singular timidity, are exhibited.
He spied an Egyptian smiting a Hebrew, and he slew the
Egyptians and hid him in the sand. The following day he interfered in a quarrel between two of his own countrymen,
and then in alarm fled from Egypt. In Midian he again appeared in a similar character, as the champion of the daughters of Reuel, in their contest with the shepherds.
During the whole period of the wonderful intercourse between the Almighty and the chosen deliverer of Israel, the
impetuosity of lMoses' character was displayed continually.
When the miracles, which he was enabled to work, failed of
their effects upon the king's heart, he ventured to expostulate
with God, in words which could only have been suggested by
t.le disappointment of an impatient spirit. The overtas]ing
of his own powers, when, at the very outset of the journey
through the wilderness, he undertook himself to decide the
12 
SCRIPTURE CHARACTERS.
quarrels which arose amongst the people, is an evidence that
his was no naturally calm and prudent mind. The appeal
made by his father-in-law, " Thou wilt surely wear away,
both thou, and this people that is with thee: for this thing is
too heavy for thee," 1 shows the consciousness entertained by
those who watched him, of the eagerness, which would almost
necessarily tend to exaggeration in action; whilst the ready
compliance with Jethro's suggestion is a proof of the control
which he was learning to exercise over his own impulses.
The circumstances which followed the giving of the law
are another and very striking testimony to the impetuosity of
Moses' character.  When he descended the mount, and heard
the voices of the people shouting in their idolatrous worship,
his " anger waxed hot, and he cast the tables (of the law) out
of his hands, and brake them beneath the mount." 2 It was a
just anger-more than just-it was holy; but it was anger
still, and the punishment inflicted upon the people is in accordance with it. Moses burnt the calf in the fire, and " ground
it to powder, and strawed it upon the water, and made the
children of Israel drink of it." And when he had thus humb]ed them to the dust, he gave the fierce command to the sons
of Levi, " Go in and out from gate to gate throughout the
camp, and slay every man his companion, and every man his
neighbour."'
The prayer which followed that terrible vengeance is surely
also the prayer of no calm mind. " Oh, this people have
sinned a great sin, and have made them gods of gold. Yet
now, if Thou wilt forgive their sin: and if not, blot me, I
pray Thee, out of Thy book which Thou hast written." 4
Neither was it a quiet unimpassioned spirit which could have
dared to utter that awful request-" I beseech Thee, shew me
Thy Glory" 5-immediately after the exhibition of the A1mighty's vengeance. That such a request was, in its measure,
'Exod. xviii. 18.         2Exod. xxxii. 19.
4Exod. xxxii. 31, 32.
-13
I Exod. xxxii. 20, 27.
1 Exod. xxxiii. 18. 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
granted, is a sufficient proof, if any were needed, that ardent
feelings, however enthusiastic, are, when duly controlled, acceptable in God's sight, if only they are directed into their
legitimate channel.
In singular contrast with the great jealousy exhibited by
Moses for the honour of the Almighty-a jealousy which was
again shown in the case of the rebellion of Korah-is the
fact that in the one instance in which his private actions were
condemned, his conduct was such as to cause the comment to
be inserted which has given rise in many minds to so much
astonishment-" Now the man Moses was very meek, above
all the men which were upon the face of the earth." 1
Yes, Moses was meek.  He had controlled and subdued
himself to meekness where his own honour was at stake; but
when the glory of his God was concerned he was still what he
was at his birth-zealous, ardent, even hasty, in his impulses
and his actions; and God, as it would seem, did not will that
it should be otherwise.
And yet, for an angry word and a hasty action, Moses was
denied the one great longing of his life-he was forbidden to
enter the Promised Land.
There must have been some overpowering cause for a discipline so severe, and so rigidly carried out. It may be that
when men have all but attained the self-restraint which converts their natural characteristics into settled virtue, God is
pleased to test and purify them more thoroughly in order that
every remaining particle of dross may be purged away, and
they may be fully fitted for their work in another state. From
the day when the decree was given —" Because ye believed -Ae
not, to sanctify Me in the eyes of the children of Israel, therefore ye shall not bring this congregation into the land which I
have given them" 2-the life of the eager-hearted leader of
Israel must have been one long struggle between the impatient
yearnings of his natural disposition and the submission demanded by God.
Numb. xii. 3.         Numb. xx. 12.
14 
SCRIPTURAL CIARACTERS.
We see it throughout the whole of the Book of Deuteronomy.   It is a book containing no mere repetition of laws:
it is the outpouring of the strongest patriotism, of the most
ardent longing for a people's welfare; but it is also the revelation of a secret bitterness of regret in the heart of Moses,
which betrays itself in the constantly recurring reference to the
punishment that had fallen upon him. " The Lord was angry
with me for your sakes, saying, Thou shalt not go in thither." 1
" And I besought the Lord at that time, saying, O Lord God,
.... I pray Thee, let me go over, and see the good land
that is beyond Jordan, that goodly mountain, and Lebanon." 2
" But I must die in this land, I must not go over Jordan: but
ye shall go over and possess that good land."' He was not to
enter. He was but to gaze from afar on a picture the foreground of which alone was clearly discernible. The deep valley of the Jordan intervened between him and "that good
land." From the heights of Pisgah he could catch but a
glimpse of Gilead and the distant hills of Naphtali; and
though Jerusalem, the destined centre of his nation's glory,
may have been visible through the opening of the descent to
Jericho, yet the limits of the country of his hope-" the utmost sea and the desert of the south "-were hidden from
him.
And yet so much had he dwelt upon it in imagination, that
he speaks of it in the language of one to whom every feature
of the landscape and every production of the soil were familiar. " The Lord thy God bringeth thee into a land of brooks
and waters that spring out of valleys and hills; a land of
wheat, and barley, and vines, and fig-trees, and pomegranates;
a land of oil-olive, and honey; a land wherein thou shalt eat
bread without scarceness; a land whose stones are iron, and
out of whose hills thou mayest dig brass." 4 And even when
directing them as to the solemn ceremonies by which their entrance into their inheritance was to be marked, he turns aside.
2 Deut. iii. 23, 25.
4 Deut. viii. 7-9.
I
f
15
' Deut. i. 37.
1 Deut. iv. 22. 
PRINCIPLES OF EDIJCATION.
as it were, to mark the distinctive outline of the scenery to be
connected with it. Ebal and Gerizim-the mountains of blessing and of cursing-were fixed for ever in the knowledge of
the people by the description given, lingeringly and tenderly,
as though they belonged rather to a home of memory than of
promise.   "Are they not on the other side Jordan, by the
way where the sun goeth down, in the land of the Canaanites,
which dwell in the champaign over against Gilgal, beside the
plains of Mloreh? "1
To see the land of this vivid faith, to approach so near,
even to its border, and yet to be debarred from entering, was a
punishment the severity of which can never be appreciated till
we realize the distinctive characteristics of the man on whom
it was inflicted. Yet, after the long tempestuous life, and the
one bitter disappointment, the last blessing of Moses shows a
fulness of confidence and rest which brings with it the conviction that the imperfection of human impetuosity had at length
been subdued into an exulting trust; and that the meekest,
yet, perhaps, the most eager-hearted of men, was ready for his
work in a future and a sinless world.'" There is none like
unto the God of Jeshurun, who rideth upon the heaven in thy
help, and in His excellency on the sky. The Eternal God is
thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting Arms: and He
shall thrust out the enemy from before thee; and shall say,
Destroy them. Israel then shall dwell in safety alone: the
fountain of Jacob shall be upon a land of corn and wine; also
his heavens shall drop down dew. Happy art thou, 0 Israel:
who is like unto thee, 0 people saved by the Lord, the shield
of thy help, and who is the sword of thy excellency! and thine
enemies shall be found liars unto thee; and thou shalt tread
upon their high places." 2
" So Moses the servant of the Lord died there in the land
of Moab, according to the word of the Lord. And He buried
him in a valley in the land of Moab, over against Betli-peor;
but no man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day." 3
1 Deut. xi. 30.        2 Deut. xxxiii. 26-29.
16
' Deut. xxxiv. 5, 6. 
SCRIPTURE CHARACTERS.
One more illustration of the marked differences between the
best of men may be taken from the characters belonging to the
Christian dispensation. Moses and St. Paul were both impulsive, earnest, energetic; both laboured devotedly for the service of their Almighty Lord; both were permitted to contribute
largely to the establisment of His Kingdom upon earth. Yet
we feel that they were essentially unlike. In what did this
dissimilarity consist?
Perhaps the first and most obvious distinction may be found
in a characteristic in St. Paul, which we are often inclined utterly to condemn, so rarely is it controlled sufficiently to work for
good.   For want of a better term, it may be called self-reliance. Now, it is evident that this quality may lead a man to
presumption; it may induce him to lean on his own understanding, rejecting the counsels of God. But it is also certain,
though perhaps not at once equally evident, that without it
no great work of good can in this world be carried out; unless, as in the case of Moses, it may please God visibly to interpose His own power, and exhibit it the more through the
very weakness of the instrument He vouchsafes to employ.
If St. Paul had not been an Apostle, he must still have
been a distinguished man. He had opinions, purposes, determinations of his own; he was by nature bold. Comparing him
with Moses, and imagining him placed in the same position,
we feel that his character must have exhibited itself differently.
The commands of God would have been equally obeyed by
both; but where Moses shrank back with timid reluctance,
St. Paul would, as we cannot but imagine, have thrown the
energy of his will into the work, and confronted its difficulties
with exultation. In Moses, impetuosity was the excitement of
a moment; in St. Paul, it was the burning ardour of a life.
Throughout the whole career of the great Hebrew Lawgiver,
we are continually carried back to the Almighty as the immediate Director of his determinations. So strongly, indeed, is
this displayed that, without the fact of this guidance, it would
seem impossible for Moses, beingwhat he was, to have done what
2
17 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
he did. He might have felt for his countrymen, he might have
committed some hasty act in their defence; but by nature he
was, as it appears, timid in working out his wishes, however
strong might be the impulse which awakened them. Even if
he had been capable of forming laws for the Israelites, he was
clearly not capable of an act so bold as that of carrying them
out of Egypt; still less of leading them through the wilderness,
and bearing with their murmurs and their rebellions for forty
years.
St. Paul might have done it; for St. Paul, as a man, feared no difficulties, and had a steadiness of aim which nothing
could alter. And if St. Paul had been left in the darkness of
Juadism, he might have been Antichrist in the independence
of his dauntless spirit, and the strength of his wonderful intellect. Is it in the least necessary that such independence and
strength should be crushed, before the sinful human creature is
admitted into the presence of his -Iaker?  A cursory glance
at St. Paul's life would seem to teach us otherwise.
The outset of his history shows the power of independent
thought and action, excited in a wrong cause. It was this
which made him turn aside from the gentler counsels of Gamaliel, and take part in the condemnation of Stephen; and
the same characteristic, when sanctified by the Spirit of God,
led him afterwards openly to give up the prejudices of his birth
and education, fearlessly to proclaim salvation to the Gentiles,
and without regard to the consequences to carry on the controversies which that act necessarily involved. And it is very
remarkable that the interposition of the Almighty appears in
scarcely any instance exerted to check this independence of
character.  Whilst, in the case of Moses, even the minutest
details of law and conduct were regulated by special command,
in that of St. Paul a freedom of conduct was permitted which
the Apostle himself plainly recognises.  We see it in his missionary journeys, begun, indeed, by express command, but Sarried out in conformity with human plans, and only in one
instance interrupted by the command not to preach in Bithynia,
18 
but to go at once to Europe. The circumcision of Timothy,
and the omission of the same rite in the case of Titus, were
the decisions, as it would evidently seem, of human judgment.
The opinions respecting the advisability of marriage under
certain circumstances, sent to the Corinthian Church, were
expressly stated to be, in some points, the result of his own
consideration of the subject; whilst in explaining his conduct,
or in excusing himself when blamed, St. Paul constantly brings
forward reasons which would have been worse than needless
if an express command had been issued in each separate case.
Thus, he says, speaking of his change of mind with reference
to his intended visit to Corinth, " When I therefore was thus
minded, did I use lightness? I call God for a record upon
my soul, that to spare you I came not as yet unto Corinth." 1
And so in another place, " I determined this with myself, that
I would not come again to you in heaviness." 2 And once
more  " Have I committed an offence in abasing myself that
ye might be exalted, because I have preached to you the
gospel of God freely? In all things I have kept myself
from being burdensome unto you, and so will I keep myself."'
In these and in many other instances, we see plainly that
the Apostle, converted by a miracle, and divinely inspired,
was yet permitted, within certain limits, to carry out the counsels of God in the mode which seemed to his own judgment
the best and wisest; though we must not forget that whilst
asserting this in the plainest way, he adds, " I think also that
I have the Spirit of God." 4
At what point the Divine guidance and the peculiarities of
the human mind met, it is as impossible for us to decide, as it
is to discover which of our thoughts are given us by the direct
interposition of the Holy Spirit, and which are the result of
what may be termed natural causes. The only fact of importance to the present subject is, that the independent working of
St. Paul's vigorous character was in no way crushed by the
SCRIPTURE CHARACTERS.
12 Cor. i. 17, 23.
3 2 Cor. xi. 7, 9.
19
2 2 Cor. ii. 1.
4 1 Cor. vii. 40. 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
obedience required by his Christian profession, or by the fact
of his Divine inspiration. And as scope was given to this
vigour in action, so was it also permitted in thought.   St.
Paul's intellect, his originality, and, if the expression may,
without irreverence, be used, his worldly wisdom, are exhibited in his public addresses as well as in his written Epistles.
Looking at his speeches, made under different circumstances,
we are at once struck by their variety, their definite aim, and
the boldness with which every point that can be turned to advantage is seized upon. In his speech to the Athenians, perhaps the most remarkable of all, the line of his argument is
Christian only in a very remote degree. Addressing a heathen
people, he reasons upon the principles of natural religion, and
from them leads the way gradually to revelation. When addressing his own countrymen, he gives the story of his conversion at length, and enlists their attention, at the very opening
of his speech, by declaring his adherence to the strictest principles of their law. But when he speaks to Felix, the profligate heathen, he passes over the miraculous portion of his
story, and in his defence lays the chief stress upon his love of
law, peace, and order; at the same time strongly asserting his
own innocence-a form of self-respect according well with the
Roman sense of dignity. In the presence of Agrippa, again,
he becomes a different person. He sinks the public character,
and appeals to the king individually. One they were in the
foundation of their faith, one in their reverence for the prophets,
and their expectation of a Messiah. Why should they not be
one in the hope of resurrection and salvation? Neither did the
Apostle neglect to seize any point which might fairly be turned
to his own advantage. Before the Roman officer he claimed
the privileges of a Roman citizen, and thus secured himself
from the degradation of scourging. When Pharisees and Saldducees were mingled in one council, he declared himself " a
Pharisee, the son of a Pharisee," 1 and immediatelydividedthe
1 Acts xxiii. 6.
20 
SCRIPTURE CHARACTERS.
assembly. When threatened by the Jews, he, without hesitation, appealed to the Roman emperor. In all this there was
the working of a mind which had a power of rapid judgment
and quick decision that must, under any circumstances, have
been remarkable, but which is singularly striking when we see
it exhibited in one whose miraculous conversion, and whose
dedication to a special office as an inspired teacher, would, it
might have been supposed, subdue, if not utterly crush, the
action of the merely natural reason.
There is no need to carry out these illustrations any further. What has been said may indeed to many appear to be
merely a repetition of self-evident facts; and yet, how far do
we find these facts acted upon? How many thoughtful parents
have loved an ideal child, and formed for it, even before its
birth, an ideal system of education!  How many, instead of
accepting their children as they have been given them, with all
their distinctive traits, have, by the power of imagination, invested them with qualities which they did not possess, but
which it was considered right that they should possess; and
acting upon that preconceived determination, forced them into
professions or positions in life for which they were unsuited,
and thus fatally marred their prospects! It is the case with
almost all, more or less. We make ourselves our children's
Providence, and then marvel that we fail to attain the object
for which we have laboured. Regardless of the characteristics
which God has implanted in them, and which must be intended
for the accomplishment of His purpose, we bend and coerce in
order to form the character and the life according to our own
ideas of what is best, and then sit down in disappointment, and
lay the blame on the child, if we dare not attribute it to our
Maker.
And yet it will be said all education must be unsound which
does not propose for itself some object; and the highest of all
objects must be that of living a life in accordance with God's 
Will. If, therefore, we strive to educate our children in conformity with God's Will, we must be doing right. Most per
21 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
fectly true; but the mistake we make is in confounding God's
Will with God's command. His Will, with regard to each
individual, is the object or purpose, the final cause, of that
individual's creation. His commands are the laws by which
He teaches us how this object may best be attained. The
knowledge of God's commands does not, therefore, as we are
apt to think, give us a knowledge of His Will with regard
either to ourselves or to others; if it did, we should be obliged
continually to go counter to the Providential circumstances of
life in order to place our children in the position in which we
should have reason to think they would be least exposed to the
temptation to disobey those commands. A boy with an ardent
desire for the life of a soldier could never, for instance, by
Christian parents, be allowed to become a soldier, because it is
universally acknowledged that the military profession is open
to the risk of great evil; and the very fact of the longing for
such a life would imply that the boy had sympathies and tendencies that would peculiarly expose him to this evil. Heavy
as is the responsibility of a parent now, it would in that case be
increased tenfold; for all future contingencies, as well as all
present claims, would have to be weighed, before we could
venture to take a single step toward setting forth our children
in life, with the expectation of a blessing to accompany them.
God does indeed give us commands. We know them, and
must work according to them. But He does not reveal to us
His Will-meaning by His Will His purposes and intentions;
we may not, therefore, search irreverently into what that Will
may be; but we must watch the distinctive characteristics of
our children, and the circumstances in which He has placed
them, and applying to them the commands as best we may,
we must leave the result in God's Hands; being quite sure
that whether failure or success may attend our earthly projects,
there can be but one end, and that God's end, brought out in
the future. 
And if we would be assured that this acceptance of individual characteristics is our only safe guide in education, we may
22 
SCRIPTURE CHARACTERS.
consider briefly the effect of the contrary-the systematic prin ciple.
A child, we will suppose, is eager, affectionate, yet hasty
in judgment, and passionate in temper. Our system, perhaps,
is sternness and justice. We think it right to repel feeling;
and we can and do repel it-externally.  But the impetuosity
and temper break forth when the child escapes our control, and
the results are a hundred-fold more fatal than they could possibly have been if we had accepted the character as the indication of God's Will for the child's future destiny, and sympathized with, and trained, instead of attempting to repel it.
Again, another child may be reserved, cold in manner,
shy, and exclusive. Our system, perhaps, is that of openness
and confidence. We insist upon unreserve; we display our
own feelings, and expect a similar exhibition in return. In all
probability we shall fail in our wish; but if we succeed, we
shall have gained only an outward victory: the natural tone
of mind will return when the external influence is withdrawn,
and by the necessary law of reaction its peculiarities will be
exaggerated.
Or, to take one more example, we rely perhaps upon obedience-absolute obedience. If we insist upon it we shall have
it, and the result will at first be eminently gratifying; for without obedience the very idea of education is an absurdity. But
if we train the child upon obedience only, without reference to
other principles, it will become, if weak, an automaton; if
strong, a hypocrite. Either the will, from force of habit, will
succumb through life to every more powerful will with which
it comes in contact; or, equally from force of habit, the natural disposition will be concealed, and the character will be
made to appear that which may for the moment be most to the
advantage of the individual.
A system, indeed, even supposing it to be good for one,
cannot possibiy be wood for all: there are no doubt faults
which must in each be alike uprooted, yet even with regard to
them the mode of dealing must in every case be a subject of
separate study.
23 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
But the characteristics of which we have been speaking are
by no means necessarily faults, though they are very likely to
become such. If they are to be ignored or crushed by system,
then is man's wisdom very different from God's. Where shall
we find the rigidity of system in the government of the Almig,hty?
Ten laws contain the commands of God for the conduct of
the whole human race, though they are to be amplified and
applied to every condition and circumstance according to man's
reason and judgment. And these have been condensed by our
Redeemer into two, which whosoever should be enabled to
keep in all their fulness, would be exalted to the purity of an
angel:'" Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart,
and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all
thy mind; and thy neighlbour as thyself." I
We want no other principles. These, and these only, are
the perfect revelation of God, and whatever laws may be deduced from them are but phases and portions of the great
whole. As the several rays of colour merge in the pure light;
as the various attributes of the All-Holy One blend into one
infinite perfection; so the various forms of our duty to God
are contained in the first of these commands, and those connected with our duty to man in the second. And when we
base education upon any one phase of good instead of that
which embraces all goodness, we act as did the heathen when
they deified the attributes of the Almighty, and, placing them
on His Throne, fell down and worshipped each man the god
of his own choice-the principle which was most akin to the
desire of his own heart.
The effect of that idolatry upon the morals of mankindthe inextricable confusion which it occasioned-is too well
known to be enlarged upon.   But we may be certain that a
false principle will work a fatal result as surely now as it did
then.
1 St. Luke x. 27.
24 
CHAPTER III.
PRINCIPLES AND RULES
WE  have arrived at this conclusion: that the object of
education is the carrying out of God's Will for the individual;
that the purpose of this Will is hidden from us in the Eternal
counsels of God; but that the direction in which we are to
work is pointed out to us by the peculiar endowments of
character and of intellect with which every person is gifted;
whilst the principles which are to guide us are contained in the
two great commands-to love God wholly, and to love our
neighbour as ourselves.
We now come to the more difficult and intricate questions
which concern the application of these laws to particular
cases.
When we look at the various conditions of man's life on
earth, it is evident that this application of the two fundamental
laws must involve secondary laws, such as those contained in
the Decalogue, whilst these again must be subdivided to meet
the needs of civil, ecclesiastical, and domestic government. It
is of the latter only-that is, of the laws required for domestic
government-that we have now to speak.
Were we angels, we should need none but fundamental
law; for angels, as Hooker says, " beholding the Face of God,
in admiration of so great excellency, they all adore Him; and 
being rapt with the love of His Beauty, they cleave insepara
bly for ever unto Him. Desire to resemble Him in goodness
2 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
maketh them unweariable, and even insatiable in their longing
to do by all means all manner of good unto all the creatures
of God, but especially unto the children of men." 1 And the
nearer a man approaches to the life of an angel upon earth,
the less he will find himself oppressed by the restraints of
moral secondary laws. They are but exemplifications of the
two great primary laws, and as such he can not only reconcile
himself to them without difficulty, but even cease to feel that
they are laws, so far as the notion of law implies restraint.
To attempt, however, to go through life without secondary
laws of some kind, marked and well considered, would be to
act against the dictates of reason, and also to set aside the example which God Himself has given us in His own dealings
with His creatures.  For the example of these secondary laws
and the principle of their right application is to be found in the
mode in which God has, at two different periods of the world's
history, been pleased to teach the people whom He has set
apart for Himself, under the Jewish and under the Christian
dispensations.
When the Jews were led out of Egypt, they were a nation
in infancy. Long subjection had crushed all strength of mind,
all settled force of purpose, all power of abstraction. Like
children, they could be ruled only by the visible. Earthly objects, earthly gratifications, were their sole ideas of reward.
Impatient of disappointment-led away by the temptations of
sense-it required the actual symbols of God's presence to
keep Him in their remembrance.  When Moses remained in
the mount, they called upon Aaron to make them a god, for
unless they saw their deity they could not believe in him.
When water failed them, they murmured; when food became
scarce, they forgot the miseries of slavery, and groaned for the
flesh-pots of Egypt. Miracles made only a momentary impression upon them, for, like children, so limited were their powers
of thought and reasoning, that miracles themselves becamenatural to them.
1Eccles. Pol., Book I.
26 
i
PRINCIPLES AND RULES.
To give none but abstract laws to such a people would
have been absolutely unavailing; as unavailing as it would be
to preach to a little child of that eternal Law, the origin of all
law, "which hath been of God, and with God everlastinglythat Law, the Author and Observer whereof is one only God,
to be blessed for ever." 1
For a nation in its infancy, therefore, not only general secondary laws, but temporary laws, or rules of various descriptions, were essential. They required limitations, warnings,
minute directions, instantaneous punishments; for by these
only could their earthly and narrow minds be kept in the right
path. If left to themselves, they must have been the prey of
their own passions, and succumbed to their own weakness.
And we find that in training them God did thus deal with
them. He marked out distinctly the path in which they were
to tread. Hie gave them directions for their daily use. He
interposed with cautions at every step. He made their religion
one of outward observances, which, even if they failed to recognize as having a spiritual meaning, yet stamped upon their
hearts indelibly the consciousness of an unseen God whom
they were to obey; and every infraction of those rules was
punished without delay. And so He led them on, step by step,
until they were established in their own land; and then, by
slow degrees, He relaxed this visible interposition, and though
He still made His rules binding upon them, He taught them
the bitter consequences of disobedience rather by the experience of natural punishments, than by the immediate infliction
of His judgments.
The history of the Jews under the Judges is the history of
a nation whose physical powers are developing, whilst the
moral and intellectual powers are, as it were, in abeyance.
The constant strife, the rough hardihood, the summary vengeance of which we read, all speak of such a period. God
from   time to time interposed for their deliverance, but it would
seem as if He had willed that they should work out for them' Eccles. Pol., Book I.
.27 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
selves those laws of civil government without which a people
can be but barbarians. Like children at school, they had
their contests for might over right, and were compelled to recognize the necessity of government by the sufferings which its
absence brought upon them. Under the Kings their intellectual powers were enlarged, civilization spread; wealth, and
luxury, and earthly splendour formed part of the national
greatness. But moral advancement was left far in the background. That was a time for solemn rebukes and prophetic
threatenings; but there were no new laws, and actual miraculous interpositions were rare, and given rather as warnings to
those who had forsaken God, than as encouragements to those
who served Him. Elijah and Elisha were prophets in Israel;
for Judah-more faithful-needed not such visible reminders
of the Almighty's power.
But the Jews, as a nation, failed to respond to the care
lavished upon them. They did the work predestined for them
in the counsels of God, but their will was not one with His,
and they were cast off. And then began a new dispensationone which was to embrace the whole human race.
It was a dispensation commenced under different circumstances, at a more advanced period of the world's growth.
Learning, art, and civilization had arrived at a point which,
even in these days of professed advancement, can scarcely be
said to be surpassed. The writers of that period are still our
teachers; the works of its sculptors and architects are still our
models. Mankind were adults, and the education of childhood was unsuited to them.
And therefore, when God vouchsafed once more to reveal
His commands, it was in a different way. The laws promulgated by our Blessed Lord took the form of principles. The
rules for their application it was left to the Christian Church
to work out for itself, though directly guided at first, as we
cannot doubt, by the Spirit of God. 
The truth of this statement has already been illustrated by
the life of St. Paul; but it is evidenced throughout the whole
28 - 
PRINCIPLES AND RULES.
of the New Testament, and is confirmed by the history of
mankind from that period to the present day.  We, in our ignorance and blindness, doubtless are often inclined to wish it
had been otherwise. In the midst of the controversies which
meet us on every side, we long for more certain guidance, and
lament that the points in dispute had not been clearly defined
at the very outset of Clhristianity.
But putting aside the fact that nations, like individuals,
when cultivated in intellect, will always make use of their
powers to reason away laws instead of obeying them; and
that no rules, however stringent, will be sufficiently clear to
bind those who have arrived at a period when the will is opposed to restraint; it is sufficient for our present purpose to
remark what the Almighty, in His inscrutable wisdom, has
evidently pointed out to us by His government of the world,
namely, that a more perfect obedience, a purer morality, a
higher tone of thought are to be attained by leaving the will
and the judgment free-when reason and intellect have prepared the way for that freedom-than by any system of rules,
however perfect, or any directions for guidance, however wise.
With rigid rules, clearly defined ceremonies, absolutely commanded, we might doubtless have had a more perfect exhibition of the exterior of Christ's Church on earth. But that
Church is ultimately destined for Heaven; and the quarrying
and polishing of each separate stone, which is to form part of
" the Building not made with hands," is undoubtedly carried
on through the medium of those sharp collisions and frictions
which mar the perfection of its present beauty.
When religion was to be taught to the Jews in their ignorance, God allowed them to make no mistakes. When it was
to be taught to the whole world in its intelligence, men were
educated by the very means of their mistakes.
The deduction, as regards the education of individuals, is
evident:
Rules for children; principles for adults.
29 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
Is there any axiom more true?  MIay we not also ask, Is
there any axiom more neglected?
Let us inquire of those who are commissioned for a time
to take the place of parents-tutors and governesses-what is
the frequent complaint made against the young people approaching to manhood and womanhood who are committed
to their charge. Is it not that they fail in obedience, dutifulness, and respect to their parents? And what is too often the
regret, the sorrow-we will not call it complaint-of these
young persons, when they speak of their parents? Is it not
that, as the expression is, they cannot get on with them-they
are afraid of them-they think them fidgety, interfering, particular? It may seem a very hard thing to say; for there is
no ideal to wlhich the world clings more tenaciously than to
that of the reciprocal affection and duty between parents and
children-most especially between mothers and daughters.
Every young mother believes that her little girl will grow
up to be her cherished companion, and friend, and comfort:
not because she is educated rightly, but simply because she is
her daughter; and every child dreams of a mother who is to
be its visible guardian angel: not because she is wise, and
just, and tender, but because, in the imagination of a child,
the office of such a visible guardian angel necessarily belongs
to its mother.
To say that the existence of this hallowed affection can
ever be a mere dream of the imagination, will be at once to
raise an outcry of surprise and indignation.  In asserting such
a possibility, it may be said, we put aside the fact that the relation between a mother and her child is recognized as sacred
by God, and deny the evident intentions of Hils Providence.
If a mother's love and a child's grateful duty are not realities
of natural affection, where can we look for anything on which,
in this disappointing world, our yearning hearts may rest?
The love between a mother and child is, indeed, most sacred.
God forbid that we should not think it so!  It is the manifest
intention of Providence that, in every case, it should exist. It
30 
PRINCIPLES AND RULES.
would be folly to deny it. But there are many other things,
with regard to which the intention is evident-so evident indeed, that it is impossible for any reasoning being to doubt
it-whilst yet the failures are far more numerous than the fulfilment.   Mankind are intended to be happy and healthy;
but misery and sickness are the portion of nine-tenths of the
human race.
Man's will, man's folly, are allowed, in a very awful manner, to mar the merciful intentions of Providence; and, perhaps, in no way do they work more fatally than in the relation
between parents and children.
" My little one is such a darling, I cannot help spoiling
it!" The words sound almost sweet when uttered by a young
mother. They speak of love, self-sacrifice, tenderness: yet
are they the most cruel words which could ever escape her
lips.
Not help spoiling it! Then she cannot help disobeying
the positive injunction of God, neglecting the example He has
Himself given. She cannot help laying up in store for her
child, sin and sin's punishment; in this world, bitter regret,
suffering, shame-it may be remorse, which shall never be repentance; and in the world to come?  If it were permitted us to question the unhappy ones for whom even a Redeemer's love is unavailing, how many, do we think, might be
numbered amongst them, who were once-spoilt children?
Rules for children-strict rules! We cannot say it to ourselves too often. Not severe rules, not given —that were a
most grievous mistake-with any severity of manner; but
definite rules, on the infraction of which punishment shall instantly be inflicted. The first of the Israelites, in the wilderness, who broke the rigid law of the Sabbath, died for his
offence.  God was then teaching a nation of children.  When
He afterwards gave His commands to the intelligent world,
the Redeemer proclaimed the abrogation of the external rule,
and declared that " the Sabbath was made for man, and not
man for the Sabbath." 1
1 St. Mark, ii. 27.
31 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
This brings us to the second part of the axiom-Principles
for adults.
What do we see, in the present day, with regard to its application to young persons?
It will, perhaps, be said, it does not concern them. They
are not adults. True; but they are rapidly becoming such.
The precise age when a youth becomes morally a man, or a
young girl a woman, it may be difficult to determine.  It will
vary according to character. But no one will say that young
people of fifteen, sixteen, or seventeen are, strictly speaking,
children or can wisely be treated as such.   And, perhaps,
no one actually professes to do so. The theory is, that as the
mind enlarges, the judgment may be left more free. A right
theory, consistent with common sense, and-as we have
pointed out-with the dealings of God with man. But when
we come to practice, what do we find? These children, such
darlings that it was impossible not to spoil them-are they
darlings still? They can no longer be taken into their mother's
lap, and fondled and coaxed. Their fits of infantine passion
have become settled ill temper. Their petty wilfulness has
been trained into disobedience. Their shyness and timidity
have been carefully nursed into vanity and affectation. Their
childish whims have been converted into selfishness. What is
to be done with a disobedient, vain, affected, selfish, ill-tempered girl of, we will say, fifteen? Talk to her of principles;
she has no notion of what you mean! Principles are understood by their application. Their meaning is to be learnt by
degrees-by the help of rules and examples. There is no
royal road for instruction in principles, any more than for instruction in any other branch of learning; and, as the young
girl has the mind of a child, she must, it is supposed, be
treated accordingly. She is placed therefore under a strict
governess; she is watched, scolded, punished, debarred from
amusement, and taught to look upon herself as hopelessly
wicked, and, in consequence, forced back upon the solitude of
her own heart; and, meeting with no sympathy, she naturally
32 
PRINCIPLES AND RULES.
shelters herself under a reserve, which is considered only
another symptom of a cold heart.   At length, considered
totally unmanageable, she is sent away from home. If in
this new sphere a better life should dawn upon her, will it not,
probably, be years before her affections can be drawn towards
the mother who so miserably spoilt her in childhood, and so
hopelessly misunderstood her in youth?
Or, take another instance, not uncommon. We will suppose a child not to have been so utterly spoilt, but only overpetted, taught to think much of herself to put herself forward,
to give her opinion unasked, to be, in fact, conceited and wilful. These faults will assuredly not decrease as years advance. What we are apt to call conceit and wilfulness is
often only the natural result of a too rapid growth of the intellectual, as compared with the moral, powers. Minds outgrow their strength just as bodies do.
A clever girl, or even one who is not exactly clever, but
who has been brought forward, and allowed to act and speak
at twelve as if she were twenty, will naturally, at fifteen or
sixteen, form opinions of her own, and think herself competent
to decide upon all questions with which she is, or is not, concerned. And this is very unpleasant to a parent. Little children, if forward and disagreeable, can be sent up into the nursery, and put out of sight; but a forward girl is an offence to
a mother's vanity. She must be spoken to sharply-snubbed,
as it is called; and the young lady is very quick to discern
what snubbing means, and to resent it. So she becomes disobedient and disrespectful, and the mother talks to her of duty,
and obedience, and self-control, and, finding her words unavailing, becomes angry, and loses the respect of her child, and
then follows a scene; and the gulf between the parent and the
child, which has long been slowly opening, becomes wider;
perhaps so wide, that it can never thoroughly close again.
Who is to blame?  The daughter, surely!  She is no longer
a baby. She is quite aware that she ought to obey and be
respectful to her mother, and she has sense enough to see that
3
33 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
her mother has right on her side. She ought to understand
acting upon principle. Yes, indeed, she ought: she has arrived at the right age; but, then, whose duty was it to teach
her to apply principle? Who ought, in childhood, to have
educated her by rules based upon principle, and, through them,
to have led her childish mind to the comprehension of the principle itself?
Let the fallow ground be first furrowed by careful and
well-observed rules, and in those furrows we may drop the
seeds of principles, with the certainty that they will produce a
good and a plentiful crop; but, if we allow the ground to
become hard and clotted, we may cast our principles upon
it, but we must look to their being borne away upon the
winds.
Or, once more. We will suppose a child to have been well
and carefully brought up, made to obey, checked when forward, taught to be considerate and respectful, and then to
have arrived at the age when reason and thought begin to develop themselves. A strong will, a clear intellect, and acute
observation, are perhaps exhibited early, and the mother recognizes the fact with pride.  But the habit of rule is strong
within her. She likes power-she has the self-confidence resulting, from success. Her child is so charming; it is evident
that the education has so far been successful, and how, then,
can rules be laid aside? The young girl is so young, she
must make mistakes; her mother must know best what is good
for her. And the thought of having a heart, simple, unstained
by the world, absolutely dependent upon one, is so very tempting both to affection and to vanity! The mother, therefore,
continues her supervision. She expects to know every thought
of her young daughter's mind, as in the days when the little
child prattled at her knee. She thinks it right to be acquainted
with everything connected with her correspondence and her
young friendships. Conversations must be repeated, leptters
must be read; and in order to insure this, rules must be laid
down. But the rules are irksome, simply because they are
34 
PRINCIPLES AND RULES.
rules. The daughter has no friendship which her mother
would disapprove. She neither writes nor receives letters of
which she is ashamed; but she detests supervision. And she
is beginning to differ from her mother upon some abstract
points. She has opinions, tastes of her own; and she wants
to express them freely. It would seem disrespectful, and it
would certainly be painful, to state these opinions to her
mother, because she knows that they are supposed always to
be of one mind; so she longs to write and speak to others-to
have the pleasure of thinking, and perhaps, in some cases,
acting independently.   But these rules, these restraints and
limitations, meet her at every turn. It is grievous to say, but
her mother, good and excellent though she may be, is gradually assuming the character of a warder set over her, to
watch that she does not escape from prison. Not that she
really desires to escape; only she would like to feel that she
might do so.
This is by no means an uncommon case; and it may be
met with not only when girls are young, but when they are
past what may be called youth, and yet are inmates of their
mother's home. To govern adults, or those approaching to
the age, by rules, is to ignore the first principles of reason,
and utterly to destroy the happiness of domestic intercourse.
When persons have reached what are called years of discretion, freedom is as essential to their moral, as air is to their
physical, strength.
It is not, however, to be supposed that what has been here
said, implies that at any fixed age, such as fifteen, sixteen,
seventeen, or at any precise subsequent period, government by
rules may be laid aside, and government by principles adopted.
It is a question of degree. The little child of two or three
must be absolutely governed by rules, because it is only by
means of temporary rules that it can be taught to submnit
itself to primary fixed laws. It can understand obedience;
it cannot understand the love of God: obedience, therefore, is,
for the time being, its primary law. The adult man or wo
35 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
man must (speaking of domestic life only) be left to the absolute government of principles, for if we attempt to lay down
rules for young men and young women, we shall infallibly
estrange their affections. Between these two points there are
many degrees, varying according to circumstances; and the
part of wisdom in education is gradually to relax our rules,
so that the perfectly obedient child may pass into the happy
liberty of well principled youth, and the perfect freedom of
full age, without any abrupt transition, but only with the consciousness that the strict yet loving government by rule exercised by a parent in infancy, has been succeeded by that much
stricter, much sterner government by principle, which every
human being must exercise over himself, if he would pass
through this world with the respect of his fellow creatures,
and enter upon the next with the approbation of his Maker.
It would seem scarcely necessary to add that in thus advocating the enforcement of rules for children, it is presupposed
that they are rules based upon principle. Subjection to rules
of any kind will indeed train the young mind to the habit of
obedience, but it will never train it to goodness. The slave
obeys the rule of his tyrannical master, but the moment he is
left to himself, he obeys nothing but his own impulses.  The
test of the wisdom of our rules is the ease with which we may
dispense with them when once the principle upon which they
were based is firmly established. It is singular to remark how
very few rules and what very rare punishments are required
in the government, even of a child, who has in infancy been
trained to strict obedience, based upon principle. The little
one who, when a year and a half old, finds that it never has
what it cries for, will require but a very small amount of
checking and thwarting in its wishes when it is three or four;
because by that time it will fully have learnt that most difficult
of all lessons to an indulged child-to take " No " for an answer. 
So, again, the child of three, who, when told to go or come,
refuses, and finds that an instantaneous punishment, however
36 
PRINCIPLES AND RULES.
slight, follows its refusal, will need no threatening and scolding at five or six to compel it to obey. The child of five or six
who finds that certain rules are laid down for its conduct, and
that on the transgression of those rules a penalty is always inflicted, will, by the time it is nine or ten, keep a rule as strictly
in its mother's absence as in her presence. At that age the
irksomeness of obedience is lessened, because the child is quite
able to understand the principle on which obedience rests; to
see that it obeys its parents because they are the vicegerents
of God, exercising authority from Him, and therefore claiming
submission as a religious right. The sacredness of obedience
once established, the parents' wishes, as well as their commands, become sacred. The child, though often unknown to
itself, begins to act from a feeling of duty.  " Such an action
is not right, because my mother would disapprove; therefore
I will not do it."
Once fairly establish this idea of duty in the mind, and
rules are comparatively needless, and at thirteen or fourteen
the child is scarcely conscious of them. She goes and comes,
she writes and speaks freely; and though a few dirctions may
be necessary as guides and landmarks, there is no necessity to
enforce them. The child enforces them upon herself. At fifteen or sixteen her task becomes more difficult: she is learning to rule herself instead of to be ruled; and now the mother's
duty changes. She is not so much called upon to command,
as to counsel and advise; and because the child's will is one
with hers, there is no need for severity in this office of adviser.
Sympathy, tenderness, consideration, the full exhibition of that
marvellous depth of affection which God has implanted in a
mother's heart, all may be displayed with little or no check
from external rules. And if we ask for the result, we may
find it in the perfect confidence, the reverent devoted affection
on the part of the child, and the loving delight and deep satisfaction on the part of the mother, which make the relationship
between them perhaps the happiest, as it is certainly the holiest, of which our nature in its earthly affections is capable.
37 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
Is this an ideal picture? It need not be so: God intended
it to be a reality. It is our own folly which makes it an ideal.
We strive, it may be, to be strict, just, true, unselfish, and indulgent in our dealings with our children. But we begin with
indulgence and end with strictness, instead of beginning with
strictness and ending with indulgence; and the result is fatal.
If it be asked, why do we thus act? the answer will sound
severe, but it will be very true. Because we are selfish. We
love ourselves better than our children. There is nothing
more tempting to a woman's tenderness than her little child
of two years old; it is tempting even to those who are not
mothers.   The soft round cheek, the bright complexion, the
silky hair, are so inviting to the eye, the broken words are so
sweet to the ear, the tottering steps appeal so trustingly for
help, and the first demonstrations of awakening love are so inexpressibly winning, that it requires a self-denial greatly beyond that to which we have at all accustomed ourselves, to
look grave or check, much more to punish. But ought it not
to be equally difficult to check, reprove, or punish the disobedient girl of thirteen or fourteen? Her face is still young and
fair, her voice is still sweet, her steps are tottering on a far
more dangerous path; her love, when awakened, is a far more
valuable treasure than that of the unconscious little one. Yes,
but she is disrespectful, passionate, disobedient; she makes us
angry; she vexes us. There lies the secret; it is self, after
all.
An unselfish mother will punish her little child, though it
may wring her heart to do so. She will never fear chilling its
infant heart by wise strictness; for a mother's tenderness will
make amends in an instant for the suffering inflicted.  Very
little children will bear a large amount of moral coercion, just
as they will a large amount of physical coercion.  It belongs
to their age; to be compelled to obey is natural, and they
never resent it; and it is the feeling of resentment which
makes enforced obedience injurious to the moral character.
And so, also, an unselfish mother, if by any unhappy weak
38 
PRINCIPLES AND RULES.
ness she should have failed, by wise rules, to train her child to
obedience in infancy, will be patient and forbearing when the
consequences of that neglect are displayed in youth.
She will not then insist upon laying down rules, thwarting,
and restraining. It is too late; restraints which would have
been light in childhood, are felt to be very heavy in youth.
They will but increase irritability, and widen the difference.
The mother has " sown the wind," and she must be prepared
to " reap the whirlwind;" happy only if, by gentleness, love,
sympathy, she can at length so far regain her child's affections
as to win her confidence, and at last, through God's mercy,
awaken principle.
But this, in almost all cases, is found to be a work that
must be devolved upon others. Training away from home is
required to mend what mistaken indulgence has marred.  And
after all, it will only be mending-the mark of imperfection
will remain most probably for life.
Alas! that so few will think of this. Alas! that a dire ction the most obvious, the most reasonable, and, upon the
whole, the most likely to be acknowledged in words, of all
which God has given to guide us in education, should be so
neglected, that it requires pages of expostulation and illustration to enforce it;. and that, after all which can be said, it is
probable that scarcely one in twenty will ever fully carry out
into practice the axiom-Rules for children; principles for
adults.
39 
CHAPTER IV.
OBEDIENCE.
TaE, first object of a mother in educating her little child
must, as it has been shown, be the enforcement of obedience.
There is much to be said as to the principles on which this
enforcement is to be based; but we will first inquire what is
commonly understood by obedience.
A  young mother will declare, "I always make my child
attend to what I say.  I had a struggle with it yesterday for a
quarter of an hour, but I was the conqueror in the end."
A struggle of a quarter of an hour! Does that mean that
the mother was coaxing, urging, entreating, threatening for a
quarter of an hour? Then she was all that time teaching her
child what a power it had over her. She was instructing it in
the strength of its own will, the effect of its pertinacity. True,
she gained her own way, as it is called, at last; but she let the
child know that it had a way also, and one which its mother
found it very difficult to resist. And children are much more
keen than we are apt to imagine, and they very soon learn
that if they can but hold out long enough, they will bring
matters to a compromise, and so gain their object under
another form.
This is not the notion of obedience given us in the Bible.
God does indeed warn, entreat, threaten His people beforehand; but the act of disobedience once committed, punishment
follows immediately. 
i
OBEDIENCE.
Delay in obedience is disobedience. This truth ought to
be implanted in the mind of a little child, even for its personal
safety. It runs across the road when a carriage is coming:
the mother calls it back; it obeys, and is saved; it disobeys,
and is knocked down. There are many things analogous to
this in morals. No one can tell what the effect of such delay
may be. But one thing is certain, that instantaneous obedience is the only kind of obedience worthy of the name, and
that years of miserable conflict between the mother and the
child-conflict inevitably tending to the diminution of affection
-will be spared if it can be attained. Instead of insisting
upon a child's doing what it is told, punish it, however gently,
because it does not do so, and there will be no need to insist on
another occasion.
" 1.Jy dear, I never speak twice," was the rule of one of
the tenderest, most devoted of mothers;  and her children
blessed her for it throughout their whole lives.
And this mode of enforcing obedience by punishing disobedience will meet many very difficult cases, in which a child is
unquestionably wilful, and yet in which it is quite out of the
mother's power to make it do what is commanded. To refuse
to speak, or to say a lesson, is the most common mode of tormenting with an obstinate child; and the mother deems it
necessary to carry out her commands, and begins with entreating, continues with threatening, and ends with prolonged punishment; and after all, perhaps, the child is victor upon the
one subject in dispute. But why give it the opportunity?
Punish it at once because it refused, and the whole question
is set at rest, and without any struggle over the contested
point. It must be owned this sounds stern, and as disobedience is a child's frequent fault, it may be supposed that the
result of such a mode of training would be constant punishment.
But there is a caution to be given on the other hand-one
without which it must be allowed that such a style of education
will be severe. If we never allow our children to disobey us,
we must take care what commands we lay upon them.
41 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
To come when called is an act in the power of every child,
however young. To speak to a stranger is not really so; for
the shyness belonging to its age stands in the way, and without meaning to be disobedient, the child cannot instantly overcome the feeling. In the one case obedience may safely be
insisted upon; in the other, it is unwise to provoke a contest,
and therefore the wish should be expressed rather as a request
than a command. So, again, a little child can repeat after us
any word which we may utter, and to refuse will be direct disobedience, and must be punished as such; but it cannot always
remember a letter which it has learnt, and therefore, when we
suspect it of obstinacy, instead of insisting upon its remembering, we shall do well to exact some little penalty for forgetfulness, and let the matter pass. In all cases the one great
point to be observed is to enforce what we command, and
therefore not to weaken our own authority by unnecessarily
commanding what we cannot enforce.
And when we speak of punishment, it must be remembered
that every look or movement which expresses displeasure is
more or less punishment to a very little child. The mere
holding up of a finger, or looking grave, or speaking quickly
and decidedly, will be felt to be such, and a rap on the hand
will be actual severity, and be recollected for hours. And
even as children grow older, sharp, instant punishments will
be found to be more efficacious, and less irritating to the temper, than penalties which are delayed, though the latter may
in themselves be more gentle. To express decided anger, and
send a child to her room for a couple of hours, makes a marked impression, and opens the door for sorrow and forgiveness,
and the rest of the day may then be spent cheerfully. But to
look calmly sad, to give a grave lecture, and say that the
child must go to bed only half an hour before her usual time,
makes the whole day a penance. The sense of being, as it
were, under a cloud, deadens the wish to do better, and that
must be a singularly good child who does not feel that-it is
42 
OBEDIENCE.
scarcely worth while to try and improve, when punishment
must follow at any rate.
With children and their parents, as with the parents and
their God, without the sense of forgiveness there will be no
real desire of amendment; and it is only by slow degrees and
under certain circumstances (which may hereafter be considered)that any of us learn to dissociate the ideas of punishment
and anger.
But as the child's mind opens, and reason develops, it will
become necessary not only to exact and enforce obedience, but
to show the grounds upon which the duty rests; and here we
must look beyond the natural authority which God has delegated to parents, and inquire what is the origin of all law;
for we may be sure that if we educate upon any principle short
of the highest, if we base our actions upon any truth which is
not fundamental, we shall in the end find that we have been
reasoning upon a fallacy, and that error in practice is the
result.
That the authority delegated to parents is not the original
basis of a child's duty of obedience, is at once evident from the
fact that there may be cases in which to disobey a parent may
be right. A wicked father, we will suppose, commands his
child to steal. The child's duty is to refuse. But if the parent's commands were fundamentally binding, refusal could,
under no circumstances, be permissible.
There must, then, be something higher than a parent's
authority-a law upon which that law rests; and if the mother,
whilst enforcing obedience, desires also to enforce principle,
she must continually lead the child's mind beyond herself, and
show that her commands are imperative because derived from
the obligation of a superior law. Or, in other words, that Law,
not Will, is the fundamental principle of moral government.
This assertion carries us back very far, even to a point at
which human reason fails-the mystery of the Being and Acts
of the Most High.
" They err," says Hooker, "who think that of the Will of
43 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
God to do this or that, there is no reason besides His Will.
Many times no reason known to us;  but that there is no
reason thereof I judge it most unreasonable to imagine, inasmuch as He worketh all things, not only according to His own
Will, but the counsel of His own Will. And whatsoever is
done with counsel or wise resolution, hath of necessity some
reason why it should be done, albeit that reason be to us in
some things so secret, that it forceth the wit of man to stand,
as the blessed Apostle himself doth, amazed thereat:' 0 the
depth of the riches both of the Wisdom and Knowledge of God!
how unsearchable are His Judgments, and His Ways past finding out.' That Law eternal, which God Himself hath made
to Himself, and thereby worketh all things whereof He is the
Cause and Author....how should either men or angels be
able perfectly to behold?....   Nor is the freedom of the
Will of God any whit abated, let, or hindered by means of
this; because the imposition of this Law upon Himself is His
own free and voluntary act." 
In this great mystery, the eternal obligation of Law, is
doubtless to be found the primary necessity for the punishment of sin, so that, as it would seem, even the mercy of an
Infinite God could not pardon without an atonement.
And as the Almighty teaches us this truth by the doctrines
of revelation, so it is the one constant lesson conveyed to us by
His working in nature. The first thing a child learns by his
own experience is, that when he transgresses certain physical
laws he inevitably incurs punishment. If he puts his hand too
near the fire, he is scorched; if he runs out into the rain, he is
wet; if he runs carelessly, he falls down. These varied forms
of suffering are the fixed result of the transgression of certain
physical laws.'
And so, as the child grows up, and its mind opens to the
perception of the moral government of God, the same lesson is
enforced by the observation of what are called the natural re
2 Butler's Analogy, Part I. chap. ii.
44
I Eccles. Pol., Book 1. 
OBEDIENCE.
suits of human actions. Intemperance, it is seen, brings disease; carelessness in worldly affairs entails ruin; falsehood
and dishonesty are followed by distrust and civil punishment.
The consequences of the actions here mentioned may not be
universal, or in all cases inevitable, but the general law is sufficiently marked for the instruction of mankind; and no one who
suffers from the natural result of his own misconduct is allowed
to impugn the justice of Providence.  For neither the child nor
the adult will usually regard the consequences of evil conduct
as punishments inflicted by the direct Will of God; though unquestionably they are so, since it is God who made the law,
and affixed the penalty.  The lesson which men chiefly learn
from such experiences is that Law, whether physical or moral,
is in itself sacred, and may not be transgressed with impunity.
One great distinction between moral and physical law must,
however, be remarked. AIoral law is absolutely one with the
Will of God, and therefore is in its nature immutable. Physical law is only the result of that Will, and therefore may be
altered whenever the Almighty, in His infinite Wisdom, shall
think fit to do so. Truth, justice, benevolence, must always
be included in the moral law of the universe, because they belong to the Nature of the Deity; but it is quite possible to conceive a state in which the physical laws of nature shall be so
changed, as that fire may fail to burn, and water to drown.
As regards our present condition, however, the effect of
both moral and physical law is the same, and we find, therefore, that the idea of abstract law meets us at every turn. We
feel it before we recognize it. We act upon it without in the
least understanding what it is which compels us to do so. For
instance, the majority of men in a state will often for years
quietly submit to laws manifestly injurious and unjust. What
induces them to do so? It is not physical force; for if all who
suffered from the laws would rise against them, no power could
withstand their efforts. Neither is it subjection to the will of
any one man, for these laws are the work of many men, the
45 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
production of centuries; and a people who will rise against any
single hard law, enacted by the will of some individual man,
will submit almost uncomplainingly to a great many hard
laws received as an heirloom, and in which there is not apparently the working of any present will.   The principle which
keeps them in subjection is simply that of obedience to abstract
law; the strongest, the most enduring of all principles, because,
whatever may be the form under which it is exhibited, it is
essentially one with the Will of God.
And we shall find by experience that the mind of the
youngest child, whose reason is beginning to exercise itself,
can be influenced by this truth, because the mind, like the
body, is in a child as perfect in kind as it is in a full-grown
man; and all the appeals which can naturally and rightly be
made to the highest principles in man, may, in a lesser degree,
and under a different form, be made to the highest principles
in a child.
" I should like to let you have this pleasure, but I said
that, if you were naughty, you should not have it, and therefore you cannot."
That is a very common simple speech; hundreds of mothers, who are trying to bring up their children well, may have
uttered it. But very few, probably, have ever looked into the
deep, the wonderfully deep principle involved in it.
"I should like to do it; " there is the will.  " I said that
if you were naughty you should not have it;" there is the
law: " therefore you cannot;" there is the submission to law:
and Law as opposed to Will. And when we look into the
government of God, as made known to us in revelation, may
we not, without irreverence, say that something of the same
kind is discoverable?
" O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets,
and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I
have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth
her chickens under her wings, and ye would not!  Behold,
your house is left unto you desolate." 
1St. Matt. xxiii. 37, 38.
46 
OBEDIENCE.
Who shall say that the Lord of all could not have saved
Jerusalem if Hie had so willed? Who shall say that a love
so unutterably tender could not have influenced that Will in
favour of the chosen city? But there was something beyond
love, beyond will-something which men will hereafter be
compelled to acknowledge, it may be to their everlasting woe
-the supremacy of Law. " Hath he said, and shall he not
do it? or hath he spoken, and shall he not make it good?" 1
It is only when the sacred obligation of abstract law is
fully recognized, that any person can be safely entrusted with
the task of putting that law into practice. The mother who
governs her child upon Will has as many rules for its guidance
as there are circumstances which call for her interference.
She has no fear of making a law, because she has no fear of
breaking it. She threatens and promises at random, because
she knows that it is at her own option to break or to keep her
word.  And the result is, naturally, the wreck of all firm principle. The thought of punishment is without terror; the
prospect of reward is without allurement. With no certainty
before it, the moral nature of the child rests upon shifting
sand, and is drifted in every direction, according to the accidental gusts of passion or impulse. The sternest discipline
of unbending severity, so long as it is just, is better than such
an education.  Yet the mother who is most strict in adherence
to her own laws will be the least likely to be severe in her
legislation. Her threatenings will be few, as her promises
will be cautious, for her law is made in order that it may be
kept, therefore she will be careful in framing it.
The effect of the assertion of Law upon the mind of a
child is very remarkable. It is as if the mother appealed to
a principle to the sanctity of which its little heart at once responded. It will beg and implore, and even be pettish and
disrespectful, so long as the refusal is based upon Will; but
the very moment the idea of Law is suggested, it sinks in
I Numb. xxiii. 19.
47 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
stinctively into acquiescence. And the mother gains the respect of her child by the fact of this subjection of her own
will, even though the law, to which she bends, may be one
which she herself has made.  There is nothing nobler, indeed,
than the submission to abstract law, of one who has it in his
power to command; for such submission is the most dignified
form of obedience. He who knows not how to obey Law,
knows not, indeed, how to govern; and for this reason, that
such obedience is but another form of government, even that
of self by self, and before we can hope to rule others wisely,
we must be able to rule ourselves.
48 
CHAPTER V.
OBEDIENCE (continued).
BUT it may be asked, How is this principle of obedience to
Law as distinct from obedience to Will to be inculcated, in the
course of that every-day training by which a child's mind is
formed? The question may be answered by searching more
deeply into the moral government of God, as displayed in his
dealings with his creatures.
There are two objects which are the aim of wise government: the discouragement of vice, and the encouragement of
virtue. The first of these objects is to be attained by punishment, the latter by reward. God punishes the drunkard by
disgrace and illness; He rewards the industrious man by respect and prosperity.
But the failure in obtaining reward is also a punishment;
and it follows, therefore, that if a man will not be industrious,
he will be punished as surely as the drunkard, only it will be
negatively instead of positively.
Now, in these cases, it will be seen that both punishments
and rewards are, what are called, natural; that is, they are
stated, fixed, or settled.' No man is, or ought to be, angry
with Providence, when, having omitted to sow his seed, he
fails to reap the harvest.   The mind aquiesces in a result
which is known beforehand; and, even if a law be considered in itself severe, yet the carrying it out is recognized as
just.
Butler's Analogy, Part I. chap. i.
3 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
This truth is easy of application with regard to education,
and it may be acted upon early and successfully.
A child, we will suppose, has certain lessons to learn; if
repeated correctly, some fixed though trifling reward is to be
obtained. It may be merely a ticket, or a good mark. But
when the lesson is learnt imperfectly, the reward is lost. A
very slight punishment it is; so slight, indeed, that the child
scarcely recognizes that it is punishment; yet it is felt, and the
result is greater attention for the future. In this instance, as
in that of the husbandman, there is no sense of resentment;
the fact that the penalty was natural or fixed takes from it the
sting.  Child and man, alike, are unconsciously influenced by
a sense of the eternal obligation of abstract law.
And natural punishments have this great advantage, that
they not only remove any suspicion of personal anger on the
part of the inflictor, but they also open the door for mercy and
consideration; so that the actual contriver of the punishment
comes to be looked upon as its benevolent mitigator. We see
this also in nature. An improvident man loses the blessings
he might have secured, and brings himself into difficulties.
They are the natural punishment of his improvidence, and he
acknowledges this. But God sends him friends who assist him,
and his heart is touched with gratitude, and he is brought to
own the benevolence of the very Being who, in fact, inflicted
the suffering.
So a child, by forgetfulness, naturally loses some settled reward; but upon consideration of the circumstances, the mother
interposes, and, though she will not bestow the reward which
has beeu lost, she gives something which makes the disappointment less, and the child is full of love and thankfulness. Or,
again, even where positive punishment is inflicted, the fact of
making it natural takes away half its sting. Suppose two
children to be equally untidy in their habits: on a certain oc casion one is punished in some unexpected mode, according to
its mother's will, and feels herself injured and resentful; the
other accepts, as a natural consequence, a fixed amount of for
50 
OBEDIENCE.
feit, and is vexed with herself, but never considers for an instant that she is treated hardly. Such natural laws may, indeed, be foolishly multiplied or misapplied; but whatever
blunders we may make, either in forming or in carrying them
out, will, we may be assured, be infinitely less prejudicial to
the moral character of our children, than those which result
from punishments or rewards unwisely given as occasion
arises. It may even be said that an education carried on with
perfect temper, perfect judgment, yet without general fixed
rules, will be less efficacious in forming the character for life,
than one greatly inferior to it in these respects, but in which
definite rules are laid down and fixed, and natural punishments follow as the consequence of their infraction.
The one is the government of Will-wise and good indeed,
but nevertheless only Will.  The other is the government of
Law, and when the impression of the authority of Will is removed from the mind, the impression of the authority of Law
will remain.
But the pressure of natural laws is most felt when the will
begins to be exercised. Very little children have not the
power or opportunity of running counter to either physical or
moral laws, except in a slight degree. They are for the most
part moved by the will of others. The establishment of domestic natural laws belongs, therefore, more to the schoolroom
than to the nursery. Natural laws also are intended for the
guidance of daily conduct, to keep us right in lesser matters.
They do not provide for greater contingencies. A man who
commits a great crime is not punished by natural, but civil
law; although civil law, when strictly examined, will be found
to be in one sense natural also 1'-that is, the fact of punishment by a civil tribunal is natural, though the precise extent
of the punishment is not. In like manner, a child committing
some great offence, or exhibiting some remarkable goodness,
must be punished or rewarded in some extra degree.  But, in
every case, the object of a wise government will be the same,
I Butler's Analogy, Part I. chap. ii.
51 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
to stamp upon the mind the idea of a moral law apart from the
will of the ruler, and to which all must alike submit.
It is this idea which, when carried out in all the varied
ramifications of human obligation, produces at last the principle of duty; and the superiority of the obedience based upon
this recognition, over that which rests merely upon necessity,
or even affection, is obvious to all.
But, it will perhaps be said, by thus showing the obligation
of abstract law, are we not in danger of encouraging a formal
obedience, which will in the end produce a spirit of self-righteousness? Is not the obedience of a Christian based upon love
rather than upon law?
In answer to this, it must be remembered that what we are
discussing here is only the right theory of education, so far as
it is placed in our own power. We can make a child obedient
to law. We cannot fill its little heart with love to God. But
if we do our part, trusting to our Master's aid, and praying to
Him for guidance, we may be quite sure that God will do
His.
And let it be granted-though only for the sake of argument-that a child brought up in strict obedience to law, may,
when he grows up to man's estate, be in danger of regarding
that obedience with complacency, instead of humbling himself
before God for his unworthiness; is therefore obedience to
law a sin? Because a man may pride himself upon his justice,
his truth, and integrity, are justice, truth, and integrity evil?
" Shall we continue in sin, that grace may abound? God
forbid! " 1
But the true statement of the case is very different. The
man who piques himself upon his obedience to the moral law,
does so simply because he does not know what that law involves. We are accustomed to speak of the moral law as
limited to the obvious commands of the decalogue; or, at
least, as including only those more extended applications of
them which our Blessed Lord has given us in his Sermon on
1 Romans vi. 1, 2.
52 
OBEDIENTCE.
the Mount. But, as Bishop Butler has plainly shown, the rev elation of Himself which God has been pleased to make in
Christianity, extends the moral law much beyond this. " The
office of our Lord being made known,  and the relation He
stands in to us, the obligation of religious regards to Him is
plainly moral, as much as charity to mankind is; since this
obligation arises before external command, immediately out of
that His office and relation itself." 1 The same may be said
of the office of the Holy Spirit, and of all the duties which
necessarily arise from the truths made known to us by rev elation. Thev are all moral, all based upon eternal, immuta ble law; all therefore to be obeyed.
And let any one, be he child or man, strive heartily to obey
that law, and where will be his self-complacency?  Is not the
truest saint most often the deepest penitent, because in his
earnest striving to fulfil the law, he awakens to the consciousness of the frequency of his transgressions?
The principle of obedience to law, as law, is undoubtedly
the only sure basis of moral goodness. But we do not find
this truth practically admitted.   What  are the openly acknowledged wishes of the generality of parents-mothers
especially? One longs that her little one may fully return
her affection. Another exults in the thought that her child
will be absolutely dependent upon her for happiness. A third
trusts that, in consequence of a wise system of education, her
children and herself may always be one in feeling, principle,
and opinion. But how few look upon the immortal beings to
whom they have given birth as endued with independent wills,
destined to walk in independent paths, and therefore requiring,
above all things, the guidance not of a mother's will, or a
father's law, but of those eternal principles of right, which are
adapted to every variety of character, and every conjunction
of circumstances.
And yet, after all which can be said in favour of a character thus based upon submission to abstract law, or in other
Butler's Analogy, Part II. chap. i.
53 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
words to duty, it must be owned that it is not very attractive
to the imagination. There are even persons who honestly own
that they dislike the idea of duty; who would prefer to see a
child acting upon impulse; who put comparatively little value
upon a kind action, when it is prompted by a sense of right,
instead of a sudden emotion. A hasty consideration of such
asserted preferences would induce a calm-minded person to
turn from them as unreasoning folly.  But it may be questioned whether they strictly deserve the name. Duty-such
as these persons picture it to themselves-is a very cold, dry,
almost a repulsive principle. It never raised any human being
to the elevation of a saint, and it would in vain knock for admittance at the gates of Heaven. And why? Because it is
not duty, but only a portion of it. Men take a part for the
whole, and marvel because the distorted image they have
formed does not attract their reverence. God, indeed, tells us
to follow duty, and we suppose that we obey Him, when we
strictly honour our parents, control our tempers, are strictly
pure, rigidly honest, true in word and deed. But does not
God also tell us to trust our salvation to our Redeemerto give our hearts to Him?  Does He not call upon us to be
tender, sympathizing, repentant, and humble? Is the proud
man obedient to God's law merely because he never infringes
the law of external morality?   Is the selfish man ruled by
duty, because he walks uprightly in the sight of his fellow-men,
and so never falls into open sin? Duty is a very large word,
infinitely larger than our thoughts can imagine, for it is coextensive with the perfections of the Almighty. " Thy commandment," says the Psalmist, "is exceeding broad."   Once
only has mankind been permitted to see its full exemplification. Who will dare to say that the character of the Saviour
of the world would have been more winning to our affections,
if He had been less obedient, less devoted to duty?
It is, indeed, a cruel mistake we make, when we allow
anything short of abstract duty, in its perfection, which is
therefore duty to God, to be the ground of our children's
54 
OBEDIENCE.
moral actions. Their affection for ourselves may apparently
produce equally good results for a time; but there will surely
come a point at which, like the efforts of the Egyptian magicians, the power of love's sorcery will fail. Time and change
of circumstances tell sadly even upon the tenderest of earthly
feelings; and though it be granted, as well it may be, that the
beginnings of duty in the mind of a child are generally cold,
and devoid of that direct recognition of God which converts
moral into religious principle, yet it is a great unkindness to
allow the early, impressible days of childhood to pass, without
the formation of those habits of obedience to law which, when
the heart is more awakened, will make the ways of religion
" pleasantness, and all her paths peace."  The one continually recurring lamentation of those who in later years have
turned from sin to godliness, is the weakness of their resolution.  Now the very strength, the bone and sinew of resolution, is obedience to abstract law-to law, even though selfimposed. The child who is made to do what he has said he
will do, simply because he has said it, who is obliged to keep
his promise because he made it, who is taught that he is bound
by an engagement because it is an engagement, may have but
little thought of religion, and no conscious love to God. But
when at length he does open his eyes to the reality of his position in this world, when he does seek to live for Heaven and
Eternity, those habits of submission to abstract right and obligation will be of more worth to him than all the excitement
of feeling, however intense, because they will, through God's
grace, enable him to keep his resolutions.   They are the
means, the appointed channels, through which a blessing is
bestowed upon his efforts to do God service.
And-which is particularly to be remarked-they are absolutely independent of intellectual power. Strength of mind,
consistency, firmness of purpose, are to be found in the uneducated, the otherwise weak and even deficient in intellect. The
little child may and often will possess them, when the'man
whom nations admire is wanting in them.   "How can I do
55 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
this great wickedness, and sin against God?"' Can, meaning not impossibility as regards the will, for which, in the case
of temptation, there is no can; but the moral impossibility of
breaking a law.
This is the great safeguard for all; but if we wish it to be
effectual, it must be acquired early. Let the seed-time of
childhood pass, and it may never be ours.  And what life is
without it-how wasted, shattered, it may be utterly ruined
and degraded-we may each ask ourselves, if not from the
sorrowful testimony of our own conscience, yet from the memory of some wrecked life, which will surely recur to us, when
we tell to ourselves the tale of the spoilt children of impulse,
whose course we have watched from their cradle to their sad,
perhaps even dishonoured, grave.
1 Gen. xxxix. 9.
56 
CHAPTER VI.
JUSTICE.
OBEDIENCE, based upon the recognition of abstract law, is.
we have seen, the primary object of all sound education. But
abstract law must, of necessity, be presented to the mind in
various forms, in order that it may be rightly appreciated.
So, light must be divided into the prismatic rays before we
can avail ourselves of it for the purpose of life; and the first
form under which the idea of abstract law must be brought
before a child, so as to be available for its sound education, is
that of justice.
That this principle lies at the foundation of all wisdom and
goodness will at once be seen, if we consider that justice is but
another word for practical truth. lMIen are unjust in their dealings, because in their actions they pretend to be what they are
not, or to do what they do not do. They are unjust in their
judgments, because those judgments are founded upon untruths. Justice, like law (from which indeed it is inseparable),
appeals instantly and directly to the highest principles of man's
being; and the sense of justice will always be found peculiarly keen in a child, because the nature made in the Image of
God, though now distorted and degraded, has not, at that early
age, been defaced by sophistry and self-interest.
In mature age, we become so accustomed to meet with injustice, and, if we are at all sincere with our own hearts, are
so conscious of being guilty of it ourselves, that we learn to
look upon it almost as a necessity. We instinctively resign 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
ourselves to it for the present, looking forward to the day when
all shall finally be set right. And the very fact of the tenacity with which we cling to the prospect of this final restitution
of all thing s to their true position, shows how entirely the sense
of justice is a part of the original constitution of man's nature.
And thus we find that God's Justice was the first great attribute of His Being revealed to the Jewish nation in their
condition of childhood. "The Lord your God is God of gods,
and Lord of lords, a great God, a mighty, and a terrible,
which regardeth not persons, nor taketh reward." 1 And as
the sacredness of abstract law was declared when it was made
known that " the soul which sinned should die," so the distinction between wilful sins and sins of negligence was the just
modification of that law when applied to a race burdened with
infirmity.
The same principle of strict justice was exhibited in a
practical form in the very commencement of the education of
the Jewish people. The first act of Moses, when he began his
direct government of the Israelites, was to appoint judges, who
were to hear and decide all cases of dispute, "able men, such
as fear God, men of truth, hating covetousness." 2  None
might take a gift from the rich, "for the gift blindeth the
wise, and perverteth the words of the righteous; "  but neither
might any " countenance a poor man in his cause."' 4
It was by judges that the Jews were ruled when owning
no sovereign but the Almighty.  And in after years, when the
elders of Israel gathered themselves together, and demanded
that Samuel should make them a king, their plea was that his
sons walked not in their father's ways; that "they turned aside
after lucre, and took bribes, and perverted judgment." 5
So, again, the faithless request being granted, and Samuel
about publicly to withdraw from his office, he ended his indignant, yet earnest, expostulation, with the question, "Whom
Deut. x. 17.               2 Exod. xviii. 21.               3  Exod. xxiii. 8.
4 Exod. xxiii. 3.                    1 Sam.  viii. 3.
58 
JUSTICE.
have I defrauded? whom have I oppressed? or of whose hand
have I received any bribe to blind mine eyes therewith?"'
And they said, " Thou hast not defrauded us, nor oppressed
us, neither hast thou taken aught of any man's hand." 2
It would be useless to multiply illustrations. The constantly repeated charge of the prophets against the kings and priests
of Israel and Judah, was that they " abhorred judgment, and
perverted all equity."'3 And when those who would fain have
purchased pardon by penance or sacrifice, inquired wherewith they should " come before the Lord, and bow" themselves
" before the high God," 4 they were answered by the solemn
warning, " He hath showed thee, O man, what is good; and
what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to
love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?"
Justice first, mercy and humility afterwards; because without justice, mercy and humility must be unreal.
And does not the history of God's dealings with the Jews
teach us the same lesson? His favoured servants, in so far as
they sinned, met with no partial treatment. Jacob deceived
his father, and was, in his turn, deceived by Laban. Moses
followed the example of the Israelites, and-though but in one
instance-showed impatience and faithlessness, and, like them,
he died on " this side Jordan," and never entered upon the
land of promise. David was the man after God's own heartthe man who, above all other men, loved his Maker with a
fervour of devotion which seems scarcely to belong to human
imperfection; but he committed a complicated, deadly sin, and
though he repented, and was pardoned, yet from that hour the
sword never departed from his house.
And so also, in like manner, as we may all have had occasion to observe, there are those whom God specially loves,
whose characters are most in accordance with His own attributes; but the world moves on its appointed course, and its
natural laws are not stayed in order to save them from suffer
ISa. xi   3.' 1 Sam. xii 3.                 3 Micah iii. 9,
4 Micah vi. 6.                        Micah  vi. 8.
59 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
ing. The good man who acts unwisely is punished. The bad
man who acts prudently reaps in this life his reward.   Thus must it be with us in our government of our children, with respect to the rules which we lay down for them;
for as obedience is the foundation of all virtue in the child, so
justice is the foundation of all good government on the part of
the parent. The history of our lives will probably be a convincing testimony, if any were required, to the truth of this
assertion. Very few, probably, are they who, in looking back
upon the days of their childhood, do not feel that in some instances they were treated unjustly. If they examine still more
closely, they will, in all probability, find that this memory is a
rankling one; that they cannot crush it, though they may turn
aside from it. It will from time to time start up, chilling some
thought of love, some fond recollection of early happiness.  It
calls, as it were, for expiation; it cannot be softened by the
soothing influence of time; it can scarcely even be subdued by
the teaching of charity. Such a memory is a very valuable
lesson. It is better than any sermon. Parents educate their
children unwisely, because they forget that they have ever
been children themselves. They read books upon education,
searching for principles and suggestions; and they do not see
that God has written upon their own hearts truths to which
the wisdom of philosophers is folly. The experience of a child
is a guide for the instruction of a child. What we felt, and
thought, and suffered, our children will feel, and think, and
suffer like us; and if we bear about with us the memory of
injustice, and feel that it has a voice, even now, crying from
the depths of the past, let us, above all things, as we value our
1 The writer has no wish to enter upon the very difficult and intricate inquiries connected with the perfection of God's moral government, seen imperfectly, as it must be, in this world. All that is here asserted is-that
which every one who considers the question carefully must acknowledgethat certain rewards and certain punishments are in this world annexed to
certain courses of conduct, and that whatever may be in other respetts a
man's virtues or vices, he is in those special instances rewarded or punished
according to the natural laws which are alike for all.
60
3 
JUSTICE.
children's love, their reverence, and their obedience, guard
against injustice in ourselves.
Such an one is the mother's pet, and therefore, in her eyes,
always in the right! It may be the eldest-the first awakener
of her unextinguishable love; or the youngest-the plaything,
who is indulged because it is the youngest; or the only boy,
who is the mother's pride, because he is to be his father's representative. Whichever it may be, the result is the same.
The balance of the family is upset by a sense of injustice, and
the wisdom exhibited in other respects in the government of the
children will fail to insure their goodness and their happiness.
And yet, it may be said, preferences must exist. One
child is very tractable, another very much the reverse; it is
impossible to feel alike to both. Perfectly true; but there is
no injustice in preferring obedience to disobedience, good temper to bad. An unjust preference is founded upon some qualification apart from moral goodness. We are not answerable,
indeed, for such a feeling, but we are very greatly answerable
for showing it. It may be difficult for a mother to check her
natural love, and punish the child in whom she delights, and
reward the child who creates only an ordinary affection; but if
she does not do so when necessary, she is sowing seeds of discord which will surely bear bitter fruit in Time, if not in Eternity. And even if the preference is justifiable-if it is founded
upon moral worth-it will in no way allow with impunity of
the slightest injustice. Children are very quick in discerning
partiality, and the moment it is perceived they lose their respect and their confidence. We can all sympathize with this
feeling; we are all indignant when we meet with prejudice
and partiality; and yet strict justice is the very rarest of all
qualities. Many things, indeed, go by the name of justice:
unsparing strictness, for instance, a stern condemnation of anything which looks like wrong, an unbending adherence to a
certain line of conduct.   Men pique themselves  upon such
characteristics. They consider them indications of a firm,
strong mind. They forget that God's Justice has reference to
61 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
times and circumstances, to opportunities and temptations;
and that if our justice is to be like His, it must take all such
considerations into account, or it will become injustice. Therefore it is that men are unjust. They are so not willingly, nor
consciously, but because they are indolent or impatient, biassed
by affbction or interest. They decide without inquiry; they
speak and act upon impulse. And parents are by no means
exempt from these failings. They may have the greatest desire for their children's good, but they are not therefore free
from selfishness. It requires time and trouble to investigate
every little case brought before them. It perplexes the mind,
and troubles the conscience. The mode adopted by the Irish
judge who, having heard one side of a question, and being
convinced by it, felt it a mere waste of time to listen to the
other, suits with the press of occupation or amusement better
than a careful search into facts, which may probably lead to
the discovery of unpleasant truths.
And there are certain broad statements upon which it is
always easy for haste or indolence to fall back when questions
are complicated, or demand an inconvenient expenditure of
time. A good child is always more likely to be in the right
than a bad one; therefore it is supposed that the report of the
formeris safely to be admitted against the latter. This is an
error common to persons who would shrink back, indignant,
at the accusation of injustice. Or, if it should be a case of
favouritism, the elder child, who is the pet, must necessarily
know better than the younger one, who is not so. Or, on the
other hand, elder children are always tyrannizing over the
younger ones. Let any one of these assertions be firmly rooted
in a mother's mind, and the hope of justice is vain, for every
question is prejudged. The children know it to be so. They
will not appeal to their mother, for they believe it to be useless. But natural instinct leads them to seek for justice
amongst themselves. They establish a species of moral Lynch
law, and strive to restore the balance of justice by injustice.
The favourite is disliked, teased, perhaps persecuted. The
62 
JUSTICE.
mother's preconviction  is strengthened.   Still greater partiality is shown, still greater revenge taken, and the result is a
breach of family harmony which may last for years.
And all this time the mother is desirous of acting rightly.
She even believes that she is doing so. The evidence of facts
is before her, and it is in vain to dispute them. Only-she
was in fault at the commencement, she began with injustice,
and the end is discord.
It is not asserted that a family brought up upon a system
of injustice will never turn out well. God uses the faults of
parents and teachers as means of discipline for the children;
and if only those could be expected to do rightly who are
brought up upon right principles, the world would be in a
much worse condition even than it is. But if children treated
unjustly ever become religious and high-principled, it will be
not because of their education, but in spite of it.  And in
scarcely any case will the parent receive that reward of affectionate respect, which is the only reward really to be valued.
It is a matter for very serious self-examination in all persons who have the care of children, especially all who are conscious of being themselves excitable, changeable, sensitive,
carried away by impulse. A poetical temperament, verging
upon that of a genius, is peculiarly liable to the aberration of
moral principle which leads to injustice. Persons possessed
of such a temperament make romances with regard to their
children's characters.   They idealize them;  they never see
them in their true colours. They are dazzled by what they
think to be beauty, or talent, and upon these supposed gifts
they engraft certain virtues, which, in all probability, do not
exist at all, or at least only partially; and when called upon to
decide some question concerning the children, it is upon this
imaginary basis that they rest a decision, which, probably, in
nine cases out of ten, will be unjust.
But indolence, impatience, and partiality are not the only
sources of injustice. A preoccupied mind, or even the weakness and irritability consequent upon ill-health, will produce
63 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
the same results. To be strictly just requires, in fact, a very
watchful and continual self-discipline; and we must all know
that to theorize upon a wise system of education for a child is
easy, and to practise a similar system of education upon ourselves very difficult. And yet if we do not practise before we
begin to theorize-still more, if we do not carry on that practice unremittingly-we may cast our books of instruction into
the fire, and scatter our lessons of wisdom to the winds, for
they can be of no avail to us. A sincere love of truth, calmness, patience, good sense, and self-control, all are essential to
justice. How often are they to be found united in one character? How often do we meet with any person of whom it
may be said "he or she is perfectly just"?
To act justly ourselves is, indeed, most difficult, and yet
more difficult must it be to enforce the duty upon children.
But this consideration must be left till we enter upon the inquiries connected with the necessity of education in truth,
which is the foundation and corner-stone of justice.
64 
CHAPTER VII.
LOVE EXHIBITED IN TENDERNESS AND SYMPATHY.
ABSTRACT law, implicit obedience, strict justice!  They
are very dry-sounding, uninviting names. One can fancy a
young mother assenting hastily to what has been said about
them, because she does not know how to express her dissent;
and then turning away, and secretly rejoicing, in the thought,
" It is all very good, very right; it may succeed with some,
but it does not suit me. My child shall be brought up upon a
principle of love."
And is the young mother wrong? Is not God Love? If
we are ever to be like Him, must we not each, in our measure,
be now filled with Love? And when Faith shall be no longer
needed, and Hope shall have become present joy, will not Love
abide for ever?
The mother is right. Her instinct is a true one. If love
is not named as the foundation stone of all right influence and
guidance, it is because, in a mother's breast, it is presupposed
always to exist. There is no need to tell her that she is to
love.  Nature has taught her the duty, and enabled her to perform it.  But there is great need that she should be told how
to show her love wisely; and great need, also, that others, who
are entrusted with the task of education, and yet have no such
maternal instinct to assist them, should be enabled so to regard
the children entrusted to them, as to deal with them in the
spirit of love, though they may not have the actual feeling of
affection. 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
There is much talk of love in the present day. It is to be
feared that a large portion of it is unreal. We see advertisements in the newspapers, which tell us that for twenty, thirty,
or forty pounds a year, young people are to receive all the
care and tenderness belonging to a home. We hear of the
interesting charge which a governess undertakes, when she
receives a pupil; and of the anxious solicitude of those who
are appointed to stand in the place of parents. It is all very
well.  It may be very true.  For twenty pounds a year, a child
may receive the same amount of care and tenderness which it
received at home, for there it will, perhaps, have had neither;
a governess may look upon her pupil as an interesting charge;
and those who stand in the place of parents may feel anxious
solicitude. But experience, unfortunately, shows that a great
deal of all this profession of feeling is mere educational cant,
and the first thing for us all, if we would perform our task
well-whatever it may be-is to look at it truly.
There is a light in which every child, for whom we are in
any way responsible, may be regarded, which will at once
awaken interest. The immortal soul is preparing for Heaven
or for Hell, and we are called upon to assist in the preparation. But that thought is not one which will always be present to us.
There is another light, the light of our own past trials, our
sufferings, and our sins, which will touch our hearts to the
quick, when we look at the children standing at the entrance
of the weary way which we have traversed, and think of their
fearlessness, their ignorance, their bright expectations, and
the certainty of their disappointment.  But the matter-of-fact
business of daily life leaves but little leisure for such considerations.
Education is no matter of romance, either for the mother
or governess. It is a wearing, fretting, unexciting duty. It
is conversant, indeed, with principles high as the heavens, perfect as God's perfection, and deep as the mystery of His Being;
but those principles are exhibited under forms in which they
C, 6 
TENDERNESS AND SYMPATHY.
can often scarcely be recognized, even by persons who think
most seriously. The irritation caused by forgetfulness, negligence, inattention, petty deceit, little vanities, hasty tempersthese are the trials which present themselves, and which must
be met at the moment, without preparation, without reflection.
Where is the romance of love which will withstand them?
Where is the governess, or even the mother, who can, in such
case, trust to her affection as her guide?
And yet without affection, law is powerless, justice has no
lasting influence. What is to be done?
First, above everything, make no pretence. What we do
not feel, let us not profess to show. If we have not the feeling of affection, flattering words and caresses are but shams;
and no one is so quick as a child in discovering a sham, or in
resenting it.
But there is a state of mind always connected with affection, and there are words and actions consequent upon affection, which yet may be so far dissociated from it as to be
exhibited in perfect sincerity, where the actual feeling of affection, as it is commonly understood, does not, and cannot
from circumstances, exist.
We see one who is a stranger to us, suffering; we are not
perhaps acutely touched by the sight, yet we speak gently and
tenderly-we show sympathy in our manner and words, and
we do our utmost to relieve the suffering. No one accuses us
of insincerity in this, though probably we could not have been
more kind if the sufferer had been the dearest friend we possessed. The only distinction is, that in the one case tenderness and sympathy are the result of a mind trained to consider
the needs of others, whilst in the other they would have been
spontaneous.
And it is this phase of affection-this exhibition of tenderness and sympathy based upon principles as distinct from impulse-which will be found especially requisite if we would
make the task of education easy and pleasant. It is the key
by which to unlock the closed doors of the stubborn heart.
67 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
If we would know how to apply it wisely, we may once
more look to the teaching of the Bible.
The first thing which strikes us in connection with the sub ject, is the different relationship in which God is exhibited to
His creatures in the Jewish and in the Christian dispensation.
To the Jews He was at first the great Lord of all, the Eternal
Jehovah, observant of their misery, listening to their cry, and
interposing to rescue them from suffering.
God spake unto Moses, and said unto him, " I have also
heard the groaning of the children of Israel, whom the Egyptians keep in bondage; and I have remembered my covenant.
Wherefore, say unto the children of Israel, I am the Lord, and
I will bring you out from under the burdens of the Egyptians,
and I will rid you out of their bondage, and I will redeem you
with a stretched-out arm, and with great judgments." 1
The power of God to protect and to save was the first lesson which the Jews had to learn. It was taught them by
miracles, for miracles were the exhibitions of Omnipotence;
and it was not until.actual experience had convinced the Jews
-if anything could convince them-that personal love and tenderness were mixed up with this Providential care, that Moses
could make a still closer appeal to their feelings, and say, " Do
ye thus requite the Lord, 0 foolish people and unwise? Is not
He thy Father that hath bought thee? Hath He not made thee,
and established thee? Of the Rock that begat thee thou art
unmindful, and hast forgotten God that formed thee. And
when the Lord saw it, He abhorred them, because of the provoking of His sons, and of His daughters. And He said, I
will hide My face from them, I will see what their end shall
be; for they are a very froward generation, children in whom
is no faith." 2
The title of Father thus claimed by M3oses for the Sovereign Lord of all, is but seldom repeated in the Old Testament.
David indeed says, " Like as a father pitieth his children, so
I2 Deut. xxxii. 6, 18, 19, 20.
68
I
I
' Exod. vi. 5, 6. 
TENDERNESS AND SYIPATHY.
the Lord pitieth them that fear Him." 1 And by the mouth of
the prophet Jeremiah, the Almighty declares, " I am a Father
to Israel, and Ephraim is my first-born." 2 And again, as in
the prophecy of Malachi, "If then I be a Father, where is
Mine honour?" 3 But the spirit of the Old Testament, it will
scarcely be disputed, is that of the government of a just, and
watchful, and loving Lord; apart from His people, and guiding them by His unerring wisdom, rather than by His personal
sympathy.
Under the Gospel dispensation, the relationship between
God and His people is instantly and marvellously altered.
"My Father and your Father-my God and your God!"
Who has ever heard these words, and pondered upon them,
without a thrill of wondering love, which, could it but continue, would make every labour of obedience light, every pang
of suffering easy to be borne? When He who was one with
the Father became one also with us; when He "bore our grief
and carried our sorrow," and was made "like unto us in all
things," sin only excepted, our relationship to God became a
new relation.  "For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption,
whereby we cry, Abba, Father." 4
The duties which were difficult to the Jew became easy to
the Christian. The obedience which required threatening,
and warning, quick punishment, and present reward under
the Old Testament, was the natural, almost involuntary impulse of the follower of Christ under the New.
Why, then, were not the Jews treated as the Christians?
Why did not God vouchsafe to dwell visibly among them-to
be one with them-to give them evidence of His personal
sympathy and to win their obedience by the love of the human,
rather than the awe inspired by the Divine Nature?
There must be an answer to that question, hidden amongst
the unfathomable mysteries connected with God's scheme for
Psalm ciii. 13.  Jer. xxxi. 9.    3Ml.6
4 Rom. xxviii. 15.
4 Rom. viii. 15.
69 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUOATION.
man's salvation, and especially with the fact that the time for
His full revelation of Himself in "the Man Christ Jesus"
was not yet fully come. Into this it would be presumptuous
irreverence to inquire. But there is another answer lying on
the surface of thought, which will be sufficient for the subject
now under consideration.   The Jews were a nation of children; and the first impression which it is necessary to imprint upon a child's mind, if we would permanently influence
it for good, is that which is awe, when directed to God-reverence, when directed to man.
This is not in accordance with the theories of the present
day. We have cast off our old notions of respect for age,
authority, position. We believe that if such feelings are to be
entertained at all, they must be the result of love, not its
foundation. But the Bible and reason would seem to teach
us otherwise. There can be no doubt that in dealing with the
Jews, God first impressed them with the sense of His sovereignty, and His power; and then exhibited to them His tenderness, under the form of watchful care for their happiness.
Even as Moses reminded them, " Thou shalt remember all the
way which the Lord thy God led thee these forty years in the
wilderness. Thy raiment waxed not old upon thee, neither
did thy foot swell, these forty years. Beware that thou forget
not the Lord thy God, who led thee through that great and
terrible wilderness, wherein were fiery serpents, and scorpions,
and droughts where there was no water; who brought thee
forth water out of the rock of flint; who fed thee in the wilderness with manna, which thy fathers knew not, that He
might humble thee, and that He might prove thee, to do thee
good at thy latter end." 1
It is true, no doubt, that in some peculiar instances a closer,
more human sympathy, if the expression may be allowed, is
observable. Moses, Samuel, and especially David, approached
their Maker with a freedom of feeling which belongs almost to
the Christian dispensation; but they were taken out of the
1 Deut. viii. 2, 4, 11, 15, 16.
TO
t
z 
TENDERNESS AND SYMPATHY.
Jewish people- exalted above them. They were not in the
condition of childhood, and, therefore, did not require its discipline. Their minds had reached that more advanced state
in which tenderness is insufficient to satisfy the cravings of
affection, but when the desire for personal sympathy is awakened, and the fulness of devotion is excited only as this desire
is satisfied.
And does not reason teach us a somewhat similar lesson?
A child is brought into the world perfectly helpless, and this
helplessness lasts much longer than that of any of the animal
creation. Its first experience connected with its fellow-creatures is that of absolute power. It lies in its nurse's arms,
and whatever may be its feeble will, it is useless to exert it.
Upon this follows the experience of watchful care; but it is a
care exerted only for its physical wants, for as yet the child
has no mental needs, and neither will it, as a general rule,
have any which involve suffering, and demand aid, for several
years. There may be precocious children of six or seven years
of age, who begin to perplex themselves with all the difficulties
belonging to sixteen or seventeen; but they are exceptions, and
it is of the generality we would now speak. Young children
do, indeed, think, that is, they ask puzzling questions, but not
such as would show that their little minds are disturbed beyond the moment. Their griefs, like their joys, are either
physical or imaginative. They have no real mental trials,
and therefore sympathy, in the strict sense of the word, as implying mutual mental and moral comprehension, is not required
by them.
But tenderness they do require, and that very greatly, for
they are timid and nervous, and shrink from those who deal
roughly with them; and so we find that gentle words and loving caresses are the teachings of nature-the instinctive impulse of a mother's affection. Yet this tenderness is not in the
least incompatible with absolute authority on the one side, and
a sense of reverence on the other. In fact, when persons try
to lessen reverence by placing themselves on a level with their
l 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
little ones, instead of winning them, they are actually offend ing against natural instincts. The children were born power less, in order that they might trust. They were born ignorant,
in order that they might respect. They have as yet no mental
development to enable them so to embrace the idea of God's
Providence that it may be a support to them. This abstract
idea is exhibited to them under a human form. Parents are a
little child's Providence, and parents, therefore, are naturally
intended to be loved, because they are reverenced-not rever enced because they are loved. This truth is by no means uni versally recognized.
We may sometimes see persons endeavouring to win their
children's affections by making them their playfellows; by allowing them, as they say, to be perfectly free, or, in other
words, to take liberties. We find mothers waiting upon
their children; making themselves their slaves. We sometimes hear of a young mother's determination to do everything
for her child with her own hands; not even to let a nurse
dress it, because she desires to make it cling wholly to herself.
All this sounds well, but there is surely a fallacy in it, for
the result is not quite in accordance with the intention. We
do not find that these children, the engrossing object of their
mother's affection when little, remain so entirely devoted to
her when their minds enlarge. She has been their playfellow,
their slave, their nurse; but she forgot that she was their
mother, and the time has arrived when they have given
up their infant games, when they are beginning to wait upon
themselves, and no longer require a nurse, and of course they
no longer require her.
And let a mother strive as she will to win her child's love
by this unremitting attention to its little wants, she must, in
the end, find herself incapable of contending with the superior
attractions of a good nurse.
A baby, for instance, is sent for to the drawing-room.  It
is frightened by the sight of strangers, and turns instinctively
to its nurse. A little child is ill and fretful, and it is soothed by
'72
II 
TENDERNESS AND SYMPATHY.
the home atmosphere of the nursery, and is, therefore, sent
there. It feels pain, and immediately complains to the nurse.
It is, in short, absolutely free with her, as it is with no one
else. And mothers are sometimes distressed at this. They
are even jealous of the affection shown the nurse. Nothing
can be more absurd. It is the child's physical helplessness
appealing to physical support; and so long as the mind is un developed, the instinct of helplessness will teach it to turn to
the quarter from whence it can most readily obtain support.
So, again, the mother attempts to be the child's playfellow, and
for a time the little one is satisfied, whilst, exerting its infant
tyranny, it compels its mother to amuse it; but give it a companion of its own age, and the mother is set aside. The one
is a reality, the other a sham, and the child feels this instinctively.
The mistake in all these cases is that of confounding tenderness with sympathy. The former belongs to infancy, the latter to advanced childhood and youth. We cannot sympathize
with a little baby, or even with a child of three or four years
of age, for sympathy, in such cases, implies the being able to
imagine ourselves in a state of infancy, to feel as the child
feels. And even when the mind begins to open, and the moral
nature to develop, sympathy must, at first, take the form of
condescension, rather than of participation. The child's mind
is formed for this; it does not expect more, and if more be
attempted, the position assumed will be false, and reverence
will be destroyed.
It must not, however, be supposed for a moment, that in
saying this it is intended to imply that a mother should not always watch over the physical needs of her children, and when
needful provide for them herself. There are very many cases
in which the latter duty is a positive, and even a primary
necessity. All that is meant is, that it is a mistake to suppose
that by so doing a permanent hold upon their affections cans be
gained. No doubt, if she neglects them physically, she will
lose      their affections; but the reason will be because such neg             4
13 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
lect is sinful, and the children unconsciously feel that it is so,
and, therefore, cease to respect her.
A mother's real hold upon her children is mental and
moral; and when, without attempting to be her child's playfellow, she insists upon respectful obedience; when she exercises her gentle authority so as to assist the awakening conscience; when she satisfies the desire for information by instruction, and charms the vivid imagination by poetry and
healthy fiction; above all, when she directs her little one's
thoughts to God, and by leading it to pray, opens the door of
communication between the visible and the invisible world, and
gives an outlet for those yearnings after the Eternal and the
Infinite which lie hidden in the breast of a child, even as in
that of a full-grown man, she is laying the foundation of a love
which will last when physical needs have ceased; and which
will be as much stronger and deeper than any affection based
upon temporal necessity, as mind is superior to matter-Eternity to time-Immortality to death.
Such love is the love of reverence. But it is of slow
growth, or, rather, its growth is for some time imperceptible;
therefore, too often it does not satisfy a parent, and the love of
companionship is accepted instead. And it demands self-control; and maternal feelings are very difficult of control. It
needs sound judgment; and sound judgment is the result of
thought and observation. Much more easy is it to give way
to feelings as circumstances arise; to be the child's playfellow
one moment, and its impatient instructress the next; to be a
slave to the little one's wishes when it happens to suit us, and to
reprimand those wishes sharply when slavery happens not to suit
us. We see the effect of such education amongst the lower orders.
It requires no thought, no self-discipline; it is a kind of moral
living from hand to mouth, which suits the poverty of our
mental and spiritual endowments.   The only misfortune is,
that it must ultimately fail in attaining its end. The love produced by such a system will, like the seed sown upon stony
ground, spring up quickly; but because there is no deepness
I
74 
TENDERNESS AND SYMPATHY.
of earth-no foundation of reverence-it can have no root, and
when the sun of life is up, and the scorching heat of selfish   ness and worldly temptations is felt, it will surely wither away.
There would seem to be little need to add the warning,. that
this enforcement of reverence must always be tempered by
tenderness; and yet some persons are not tender. They mean
to be very good and kind to their children, but they have nat   urally a cold, stiff manner, and they cannot overcome it. And
there are others who really do not thoroughly interest them   selves in their little ones until they have ceased to be little.
They think them troublesome, and put them aside in the nur   sery, supposing that in due time, without any effort of theirs,
they will come forth, ready to be operated upon by some the   ory of perfect education. The first case is a misfortune, but.
as it is nothing more, its effects will not be so permanently in   jurious. Children learn to read and understand coldness of
manner, when it does not proceed from coldness of heart, and
tenderness may be shown in many ways besides caresses or
fondling words. But the second case is simply a sin, and it
must expect sin's punishment. We may leave children to a
nurse to be dressed, because it is probable that through life
they must be more or less dependent for their bodily needs
upon their inferiors in station; but if we leave them to her to
be taught their little lessons, or guided in their prayers, we are
abdicating the position of responsibility in which God has
placed us; and as we have given up our duty, we must also
give up our reward.
As a general rule, however, all persons are tender to ba  bies and very little children; their helplessness awakens the
feeling, and it is recognized as true, though there may be
nothing like affection mixed with it. But there are two kinds
of tenderness: one is the mere expression of natural instinct,
the other the result of earnestness of thought and purpose.
It is the latter only which can leave a permanent impression.
The first association of ideas which a child should have With
its mother should be that of being brought by her to think of
5 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
God. With that thought there will arise, even in the mind
of the little one who can only lisp its prayer, the sense of sin
whenever it has been naughty, and the entreaty for forgiveness; and with the assurance of forgiveness from the mother's
lips there may be the expression of tenderness, deep, unspeakable-not the mere impulse of the moment, but that tenderness which will win the childish heart, and sink into its very
being; and which will be read and understood unconsciously,
through words, and looks, and tones, that to the careless observer may seem only to tell of respect and obedience.  The
child who associates the idea of its mother with its God, will
reverence that mother even before it knows what reverence
means; and one loving caress will then come with more power
from her than a torrent of embraces from one who is but the
minister to its little temper and fancies.   Only let us have
patience. Love is like every other of Heaven's natural gifts:
it will bear fruit all the more richly because we give it time
and opportunity to take root.
But we come now to sympathy-the second exhibition of
the principle as apart from the impulse of love; and so much
the more rare and difficult of attainment, as it requires selfrestraint instead of self-indulgence; the control of impulse instead of the yielding to it. Tenderness, at least when shown
to little children, is to most persons very easy, very pleasant.
Sympathy, when exhibited towards youth, is difficult.
The dispensation of Christians is a dispensation of sympathy. The Divine nature was for a time concealed, and Christ
took upon Himself really our griefs and cares, and became
one with us. This assertion scarcely requires to be exemplified. In the New Testament the fact meets us at every turn.
Let us see, but in one or two instances especially, how, by
means of this human sympathy, our Redeemer educated His
disciples-those who were the nearest and dearest to Himthose who were to be the Teachers of the World, the patterns
for all ages.
" Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe
76
I
i 
TENDERNES8 AND SYMPATHY.
also in Me. In My Father's house are many mansions: if it
were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place
for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come
again, and receive you unto Myself; that where I am, there ye
may be also." 1
" Ye are they which have continued with Mle in My temptations. And I appoint unto you a kingdom, as MAy Father
hath appointed unto Me; that ye may eat and drink at My
table in My Kingdom, and sit on thrones judging the twelve
tribes of Israel." 2
" Father, I will that they also, whom Thou hast given Me,
be with Me where I am; that they may behold My glory,
which Thou hast given IMe: for Thou lovedst Me before the
foundation of the world." 
This is the exhibition of the sympathy of comprehension,
a sympathy which can understand and appreciate the sorrows
and the yearnings of others; and that, it must be remembered,
at a time when the horror of coming agony and death might
seem to render all such considerations impossible.
" This is my Body which is given for you:  this do in
remembrance of Me." 4  "My  soul is exceeding sorrowful
unto death: tarry ye here, and watch. Simon, sleepest thou?
Couldest not thou watch one hour? Watch ye, and pray, lest
ye enter into temptation. The spirit truly is ready, but the
flesh is weak." 5 Here is the claim of reciprocal sympathy,
and the exhibition of sinless human feeling which may be
soothed by it.
It seems almost wrong to take these few instances as if
they were all, whereas every act of our Blessed Lord was the
expression of a sympathy personal and individual, as well as
compassionate; but they may suffice to illustrate the two particular phases under which this virtue may be shown, and
which, in our dealings with each other. and especially with
young persons, we sometimes forget to distinguish.
St. John xiv. 1-3.    2 St. Luke xxii. 28-30.   3 St. John xvii. 24.
4 St. Luke xxii. 19.           5 St. Mark xiv. 34, 37, 38.
77 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
The sympathy of comprehension requires that we should
throw ourselves into the circumstances and position of other
persons, so as to realize in our minds what they are at the
moment thinking or feeling. This is more difficult in the case
of children and young persons than in those of our own standing.  MIemory is not so great an assistance to us in this task
as weve might expect. As life goes on, our early years are
mapped out in large divisions, and we can recall general impressions, but details of feelings are lost to us. And even if we
are able to remember, we find that it is an effort to do so.
When called upon to act we are too busy, too hurried, to pause
and consider what would have been the effect of similar conduct on ourselves in former years. A certain tone or manner
perhaps irritated us then; or we were hardened instead of
softened by reproaches; or we were indignant when particular
regulations were made; or we felt ourselves unjustly treated
by some special punishments. All this may have been true.
But wve say to ourselves, "We were young and foolish then;
we know better now.   It would be impossible to make the
fancies of youth a rule for the government of mature years."
It may be impossible, or at any rate it might be unwise, but
certain it is, that if we cannot recall and do not carefully weigh
these young and foolish fancies-if we cannot make allowance
for them, and show our sympathy by consideration for them
even while perhaps we reprove and check them-we may enforce obedience upon our children or our pupils, but we shall
never gain their love.
And so also with regard to imagination, longings, dreams,
aspirations, morbid feelings: if we have forgotten that we ever
had such ourselves,-if we can make no allowance for them,
-if we avoid any mention of them, or turn from them with
coldness or ridicule,-we shall, indeed, succeed in checking them,
-that is, we shall shut them up,-and perhaps we shall think
that we have crushed them; but they will only be withdrawn
from our view to be raised as a barrier between us and the
heart which we are seeking to influence, and when we strive to
78
I
II
I
1 
TENDERNESS AND SYMPATHY.
enter that heart we shall find that its gates are closed against
us.
Therefore it is that when the intellectual and moral facul ties in children begin to develop themselves, so as to create
definite needs, it becomes the duty of those who watch over
them, to mark the form which those needs take, and to direct
their government  accordingly.  But this is difficult-much
more difficult than to dress and undress a baby, or to play
hide and seek with a child of three years old. We are apt to
talk as if moral culture was a task of such engrossing interest
that no one could be wearied with it. But let us try to act as
well as to talk. Let us find ourselves, worn in body and sorrowful in mind, forced to rouse all our energies, and listen to
some tale of supposed hardship on the part of a child eleven or
twelve years old; let us endeavour to throw ourselves fully
into her feelings, to give her advice, to speak gently when our
nerves are strung to a pitch of irritability, to be patient when
the conversation is occupying the only leisure moments we
could seize for rest or recreation. We shall not find our duty
so engrossingly delightful as we had been apt to imagine. And
neither shall we be so satisfied with our own powers of sympathy as to find any great satisfaction in exercising them.
They who are the most earnestly desirous of using this power
as a means of moral influence, are the most conscious of failure in effecting their purpose. Their words may be sinking
into the heart of the hearer, but to themselves they will often
sound dead and ineffective. They may appear to give a full
attention to the confession of weakness, or the desire for counsel; yet they may be conscious in themselves of weariness and
impatience.   They may strive to be gentle and tender, but
they will know their own imperfection of manner, and the
very fear of repelling will increase what may be natural awkwardness. Above all things, they will desire to be true; and
weariness, and deadness, and distraction, will frequently check
the feeling of affection, even when it really exists, and make
79 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
them feel almost insincere when they attempt to show it.
There is nothing delightful in all this.
To sympathize heartily, naturally, and constantly, a person
must be thoroughly unselfish, and gifted with sound sense, exercised with tact and self-control.   Need we wonder, then,
that those who, acting upon the impulses of self-gratification,
spoil their children of three years old; acting upon the same
impulse, too often chill and repel their young daughter of thirteen?  Such cases are very sad to watch-sad both for parents
and children as regards the present, and still more sad because
the effects of such estrangement are so fatal for the future. If
a mother fails to win the confidence of her child, that confidence will be given elsewhere. But confidence cannot exist
without sympathy, and sympathy cannot exist without unselfishness. We come back to the same point again and again.
The root of bad education is selfish love. People often forget
that there is such a thing. Love presupposes, to most minds,
a feeling in which self is forgotten in the happiness of the person loved. But it is not so. Love is perhaps more often selfish, and therefore more often self-deceiving, than any other
passion of the human heart. Even a mother's love may be
selfish; and when it is, selfishness will be its recompense.
It is not said that this reciprocal neglect is right or justifiable. The faults of a mother can never justify the disobedience
of a child.  If the subject now to be discussed were the duty
of children and young persons, a different view might be taken
of the whole matter. But what is here said is addressed to
parents, guardians, teachers, guides, and instructors of the
young generally; and they are earnestly entreated to consider
whether absence of sympathy may not be at the root of that
lamentable failure in education which too often drives those
just entering upon life, and about to encounter its fiercest temptations, to seek aid and counsel from any persons except those
whom God has pointed out as their safest and most natural
protectors.
It is not difficult to gain the hearts of those who are entrust
80
i
I
1. 
TENDERNESS AND SYMPATIHY.
ed to our care. A young mind-the mind of a girl especially
-of eleven or twelve, of fifteen, sixteen, even seventeen or
eighteen, is very impressible.  The affections are strong, and
very easily touched. Only show an interest in what interests
them, and they will be found quite ready to open their hearts
upon subjects of taste and amusement; and when the door of
the heart is ever so little ajar, a kind word, or a little thoughtfull act, will cause it to open still wider. A tone of sympathy
in pain or disappointment will bring out the hidden sorrow;
a reproof, given with encouragement instead of anger, will
soften the proud spirit, and draw forth the penitent confession;
and when once that point is reached the victory is all but won.
No, the difficulty is not with the children, but with ourselves.  Young people will not trust us if we are not worthy
to be trusted. They will not respect us if we are inconsistent.
They will not love us if we are selfish and irritable. They
will not listen to us when we bid them give their hearts to
God, unless they see that we have first given Him our own.
But it may be said there are natural barriers, differences
of temperament; want of self-confidence on the one hand, shyness and reserve on the other.
It is very true. No one can venture to assert that in every
case tenderness and sympathy will open the heart which we'
are longing to gain, and yet the exceptions must be rare, if we
take sympathy in its largest sense, as including reciprocity as
well as comprehension of feeling.
When our Blessed Redeemer bade His disciples not to be
troubled in their heart, but look forward to the " many mansions" in His Father's House, He showed that He understood, and would fain comfort, their secret grief. When He
said to His chosen disciples that His soul was " exceeding
sorrowful," and bade them " tarry and watch," He confessed
His own human, though sinless, infirmity, and sought for consolation in the sense of human sympathy.
And who could resist such an appeal? Even looking to
ourselves, are we not touched by the acknowledgment of suffer
81 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
ing or anxiety on the part of one whom nature tells us to reverence and rest upon? And if called upon to confess a weakness, are we not ready at once to accept the counsel and to be
influenced by the wishes of one who owns to have felt the
power of a like temptation?
There may be great natural reserve, shyness, or pride in
the child or the young girl whom we desire to direct aright,
and for a long time the citadel of the heart may seem to hold
out against us. We may even be unable to offer a comprehensive sympathy, because we are ignorant of what is passing in
the mind. But if we can break down our own barriers (a
very difficult undertaking with many people, and therefore
never attempted), and speak of the difficulties or troubles
which we have felt ourselves, the case must be indeed rare in
which reserve will hold out against us.
And parents have a special opportunity of practising this
reciprocal sympathy.  They have the same temporal interests
as their children. Their joys, sorrows, hopes, and fears, must
be fiundamentally derived from the same source. And we may
often have remarked as a fact, though we may never have inquired into its cause, that the strongest affection between a
mother and a daughter will be found where there has been
some great common subject of anxiety. In the case of poverty,
or anything approaching to poverty, the joint exertions of the
mother and her child will seem to create a tie much stronger
than natural affection. Great anxiety for any absent member
of the family will produce the same effect. Anything, indeed,
which brings the interests of the mother within the comprehension of the child, will have a tendency to produce this strong
feeling.
There is a great lesson to be learnt from this. Too many
mothers make playthings of their little ones in the nursery,
and then send them to the schoolroom to live a life apart under
the care of the governess; and after a certain number of years
suppose they will come forth musicians, artists, historians, linguists, and, as a matter of course, affectionate and sympathetic
82
I
I 
TENDERNESS AND SYMPATHY.
daughters. It is strange they do not see that, as regards information and accomplishments, they have sown the right seed,
and therefore may expect an answering harvest; but that, as
regards the feeling toward themselves, they have sown no seed
at all.
What the child needed was to be made to feel one with her
mother. But she has had no opportunity. They have lived
separate lives. The mother has had her cares, but she has
never even hinted at them, much less given the least idea that
her young daughter's sympathy could be a comfort to her.
Perhaps, indeed, some of these cares have been such as could
not be told, but there are many little ways of keeping up affectionate interest without touching upon sorrows which probably
only God can comfort.  A very little child may be made to
feel that her mother is soothed by having her with her; and
may learn to delight in being useful to her. The love thus
awakened is much stronger than that which results from any
efforts of the mother to amuse or interest. More especially is
this the case as years go on, and thought deepens. Whenever
it is possible to confide in a young girl, to give her a share,
either in sorrow or in joy, something is done toward strengthening affection; for in youth there is an actual craving for
this sense of usefulness this feeling of being helpful to some
one.
A mistake is often made here-a grievous and fatal one.
Kind, good, unselfish parents, or friends, weary themselves for
the young; they sacrifice their own wishes, tastes, pursuits;
they exert themselves in illness; they rush from one scene of
excitement and amusement to another, and all to make those
whom they so dearly love happy.  But they cannot succeed.
They are chasing a phantom, and it flies from them. The
reality lies at their own door. Instead of making themselves
useful to the young, if they would only make the young useful
to them, they would be able to tell a very different tale.  What
these bright, gay, apparently thoughtless girls want is not
amusement, but the feeling that they are necessary to the
83. 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
friends they live with, necessary in the sense of usefulness and
sympathy, as well as affection.
Doubtless there are difficulties in the way of this mutual
understanding in every-day worldly matters between the heads
of a family and its young members.
But there are difficulties everywhere. In fleeing from one
kind, we do but encounter others. We may not exactly know
how to make a young girl useful in the house, but we may begin by talking to her of our own occupations. We may distrust her prudence in important matters, but we may tell her
our little perplexities. We may think it in vain to consult her
when we cannot reckon her opinion of value, but the very fact
of asking what she thinks will win her interest.
And if we do not thus attach her to home by giving her
home cares as well as home pursuits, we shall find that these
natural cravings for usefulness, the sense of responsibility, and
the exercise of the intellect in some practical form, will find a
vent elsewhere. If the daughters of a family do not share
their mother's interests, they will share those of some other
person, and who that person may be is a very grave question,
involving unforeseen dangers. Girls' friendships are no light
matter, though they are often treated lightly. They are subjects for great caution, and must cause considerable anxiety;
yet they need never be feared so long, as the daughter feels that
the mother's cares are her cares-the mother's sorrows her
sorrows.
For this is a tie more enduring than all others, because
formed by God.  He has moulded us into families, and though
the members of those families may differ essentially in character, and be widely separated in the progress of life, yet, at the
end, natural sympathy will be found to have survived all adventitious separations. No person is contented to die away from
his relations, though he may be surrounded by his friends, and
those friends may be far more congenial to his taste. The
mother will ultimately cling to her child, and the child to her
mother, though, from faults of temper and mistakes in educa
84
t
i
I
I 
TENDERNESS AND SYMPATHY.
tion, they may through life have jarred upon each other. But
why should there be jars? Why should that holiest tie, which
even the Lord of All vouchsafed to recognize, be ever loosened? Only let mothers meet their daughters, especially when
advancing to womanhood, with sympathy, which shall be
both comprehensive and reciprocal, and there will be little
fear of reserve and estrangement.
Upon the subject of reciprocal sympathy, one more observation must, however, be made, which is applicable to all ages
from childhood upwards.
To reprove is an essential part of the duty of parents, governors, teachers-all who have the care of others entrusted to
them.  But if reproof is ever to be effectual with the young,
it must be the reproof which is softened by sympathy.
If we admonish, we must do it as those who have themselves felt the difficulty of obedience and self-control. If we
advise, it must be as those who have had practical experience
of the necessity of advice. And we must not only feel this,
but say it.
Is it not a truth? Let us look into our own hearts.
Do we not need God's forbearance, His long-suffering patience?  Are our own faults so easily subdued?  Are we so
pure-minded and simple, so attentive to our Lord's least
wishes? Are we so grateful for all He has done for us?
Are we so mindful of His warnings? Or rather does not
conscience reproach us even by the very blame we cast upon
others? Are there not times when we admonish severely, talk
of self-discipline, and purity of heart, and sincerity of purpose;
and, when the door is closed behind the child whose heart we
have been striving to reach, find that we have cause to cast
ourselves on our knees before our Maker, praying that He
would pardon in us the very faults which we have been reproving, and grant to us, if it may be, even the same amount of
simplicity and earnestness which we have the moment before
pronounced to be so imperfect?
" We have not an High Priest which cannot be touched
85 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. Let us, therefore, come
boldly unto the throne of grace. that we may obtain mercy,
and find grace to help in time of need."'
That was the character of Him who is educating each one
of us for heaven.
May God teach us to be like Him!
' Heb. iv. 15, 16.
86 
CHAPTER VIII.
REPROOF.
THE consideration of the necessity of sympathy has already
brought us to the subject of reproof, but much more remains
to be said upon this point, for it is with regard to reproof that
mothers and daughters, governesses and their pupils, are most
frequently antagonistic.
And, " very naturally," it will be said; " no one likes to be
reproved." This is a broad assertion, the proof of which will
perhaps be found upon examination to be somewhat wanting.
No one likes to be reproved! That is, no one likes another
mortal, erring like himself, to assume a position of authority
to which he has no claim, and to reprimand without having a
right to do so. This is the first natural dislike to reproof.
Neither does any one like to hear his offences pointed out
and condemned coolly and contemptuously, or with passionate
reproaches, or irritation, or fretfulness of manner or tone.
Indifference, contempt, irritability, fretfulness can never be
agreeable. But to dislike these things is not to dislike reproof,
but the mode in which it is conveyed. As we attain that age
so falsely called the age of discretion, and pass beyond it, we
do indeed become more impatient of reproof in any form; but
that is chiefly because we are unfortunately losing our sense
of reverence for our fellow-creatures. Experience is beginning
to show us their faults, and pride is whispering that our judgment and actions are as good as theirs, and therefore they have 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
no right to interfere with us. Women are especially sensitive
to anything like reproof, because, except from their husbands,
they so very seldom receive it. And when a husband reproves,
the wife often considers herself at liberty to retaliate. The
discipline which a man receives in his intercourse with the
world-the reprimand, for instance, which a junior officer must,
if necessary, patiently receive from his superior; a barrister
from a judge; or, in fact, any man in a position of inferiority
from the person who is placed above him-is for the most part
unknown among educated women; and being thus untutored to
submission, and consequently to reproof, they are proverbially
difficult to govern.
But God did not make them so.  A  girl's nature is manageable.   Her feelings are easily roused, her conscience is
quickly worked upon; there is no stubborn hardness of heart
which it is impossible to conquer. Instances may be brought
forward as exceptions; but they must require greater proof
than has ever yet been adduced, before they can be worthy of
belief. Touch but the right spring, and we may venture to
assert that there is no young girl who may not be brought to
confess her faults, and not only to submit to reproof, but to be
thankful for it.
But in order to this result, it must not be reproof given
for the sake of reproof, because the temper of the reprover is
excited or his command neglected. There are occasions, indeed, in which this kind of reproof is instinctive, and therefore
necessary and useful; but these are exceptional cases referring
to single exceptional acts.  As Bishop Taylor says, "He who
is angry with a servant's unwariness or inadvertency, or the
remissness of a child's spirit and application to his studies, or
on any sudden displeasure, is not guilty of prevaricating the
sixth commandment, unless besides the object he add an inequality of degree, or unhandsome circumstances, or adjuncts.
But since to reprove a sinning brother is, at the best, batt an
unwelcome and invidious employment, though it may also be
understood to be full of charity, yet, therefore, we must not
88
I
tI 
REPROOF.
make it to be hateful by adding reproach, scorn, violent ex pressions, scurrility, derision, or bitter invectives."
God's government of the Israelites was, indeed, carried on
by the means of sudden and stern rebuke; but in their condi tion of childhood this was requisite, in order to impress upon
them some definite idea either of the Almighty's power, or
their own duty. And in the government of very little chil dren, we also shall find ourselves compelled to have recourse
to a quick tone, and an instantaneous punishment, for this is
the only reproof which at that age can be understood. As the
fault is one of act rather than of principle, so the reproof must
be of like kind. But children verging upon youth require to
have ideas recalled rather than impressed upon them, and anything like impatience or irritability in their case will be met by
a feeling of resentment. We do indeed find, when examining
our Lord's method of dealing with His disciples, that there
were times when His censures were severe, sudden, and unsparing; but such censures were always either addressed generally, so that their severity was softened to the individual, or
they were spoken to one for the benefit of many; and human
nature is so constituted that, in the presence of others, we can
better bear a few severe words than a lengthened appeal to
our personal feelings. A young girl will submit to a stern rebuke before her companions; but she will writhe and wince,
and at length shut herself up in sullenness, under a long
lecture.
In illustration of what has been said, we may remark the
mode in which our Saviour, as He was journeying to Jerusalem, addressed St. James and St. John, who desired to bring
down fire from Heaven to consume the Samaritans.   He
turned and rebuked them, and said: " Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of; for the Son of man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them."   That was a special
reproof, but though severe, it was quick, and uttered for the
instruction of many.
So, again, under similar circumstances, He could say to
89 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
St. Peter in the presence of the disciples, "Get thee behind
Me, Satan: for thou savourest not the things that be of God,
but those that be of men; " but when, after the Apostle's fall,
his heart was to be touched, so that it never should turn aside
again, as Bishop  Taylor reminds us, "our dearest  Lord
looked upon him when the sign was given with the crowing
of the cock, and chid him into a shower of penitential tears."
Yes, that is the true, the safe example of reproof, which shall
be received humbly, and be remembered permanently.  It
must appeal to the affections.
With the mother this may be presumed to be natural and
easy. With the governess it must require time, yet not necessarily any length of time.  Those who have the care of the
young will scarcely be disappointed if they calculate that a few
weeks of firmness, justice, tenderness, and sympathy, will have
so worked upon the heart as to make it open to kind reproof,
and very thankful for helpful advice. It is even strange to
watch how quickly a child's feelings may, through God's
grace, be so touched as to prepare the way for the reception
of the good seed. But it is unwise to attempt grave reproof
until the ground is thus softened. To be blind for a time is
wise, and very necessary, for if we begin to reprove too soon
the heart will only become harder.
And when at length we see that the fitting moment is come,
we shall at first often obtain our end more successfully if we
use rather indirect means. The only reproof which our Lord
gave in words to St. Peter, after the grievous denial, which
might have been thought to have lessened His love, was indirect, and couched in the form of a question: "Simon, son of
Jonas, lovest thou me?" 
And a young girl whose pride will rebel at the direct assertion, from a comparative stranger, "You were guilty of
such a fault," will respond very meekly to the question,
"Would it not have been better if you had done otherwise?"
This may seem to some persons almost an insincere mode
of treatment. It may appear to be ignoring facts, or at least
90 
REPROOF.
to be taking too lenient a view of them.   The faults of the
young are sins, and sin under any shape is sinful, and both
in the Old Testament- and the New is denounced unspar  ingly.
It is true. Sin is thus denounced; and, God forbid, that
in speaking of it to young or old, to others or ourselves, we
should ever deal with it differently from the Word of God!
But if God hates sin, He loves the sinner. If it were not so,
what hope would any one of us have of salvation? The same
Saviour who, through the mouth of His Apostle, enumerated
the works of the flesh, and has told us plainly that " they
which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God," 1
answered the accusation of the Pharisees against the woman
taken in adultery, with the words, " Neither do I condemn
thee-go and sin no more."
No words can be too strong to express the danger of in dulged sin, for there is a voice in the secret heart which echoes
their truth, but such warnings must be given at the right time
and in the right way. When we have won the heart, we may
say what we will of certain faults, and of the importance of
conquering these, so long as we express what we really feel.
If we only talk, as a matter of course, because we consider it
to be a part of our business, we shall do better to be silent.
Yet more, we may not only speak against these faults gener ally, but we may descend to details, and apply them to the individual; we may say, for instance, in plain words, " You
were vain on such an occasion, selfish, passionate, proud, selfwilled," conceited, or whatever the special fault may have
been, and w        e       shall find that aftcr the first feeling of annoyance has passed, our words will be received thankfully. It is
better,  indeed, t   o b e definite than general.  A vague reproof
calls up a spirit of self-justification and irritability, and is
sometimes very disheartening; as, for instance, when a young
girl is                    told,   " Y ou are so affected," or " so awkward," and is
left to find out for herself in what particular way the affecta                         1 Gal. v. 21.
91
L 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
tion or awkwardness exhibits itself. But in all cases, if we
desire reproof to be well taken, there must be an unmistakable, simple, earnest interest in the welfare of the person we
are addressing; and the consistency of our own conduct, the
rigidness of our own self-discipline, must have shown that,
however strict and unsparing we may be with others, we are
much more so with ourselves. When this is the case, we may
express ourselves as strongly as we think right, and so far
from awakening resentment, we shall increase affection.
But we shall find also that this plainness of speech is more
willingly endured when introduced gradually, in the course of
a private general conversation, than when it is used in the form
of a lecture from a superior to an inferior. There is a ground
upon which we may all meet in common. Old and young,
parent and child, governess and pupil, are all at school, all
training for a future life. In administering a lecture we seem
to put this truth aside. We unconsciously speak as if we
stood on higher ground, apart from the temptations which are
in reality common. The heart closes up then, and we cannot
enter. If, however, we can descend from this position of superiority, and fairly recognize the fact that in spite of external
differences we are really one; if we are able to draw out the
half-spoken confession, to suggest the motives and feelings,
which, it may be, the child herself only half understands; if
we can say, " I know that when I was your age, I had such
and such feelings, or acted in such and such a way," we give
a sense of relief, of freedom to the burdened and wounded
spirit; and the very plainness of our language becomes a soothing comfort.
To be known-understood; is it not what we all crave?
Is it not often the root of a morbid desire for confession to
men? Is it not the source of the unutterable rest which we
feel in our confessions to God? We ask the friends who are
dear to us as our own souls, to love us, though they know our
faults, and as we repeat the words we feel that they are vain.
No one knows us.  No one can tell the history of our inner
92
.I 
REPROOF.
lives. No one can see our secret impulses, our unworthy
motives, our base self-deceit, our meanness and impurity in
thought and feeling; and no one can recall the tale of those
past transgressions, the guilt of which is blotted out, we trust,
for Christ's sake, but the memory of which must one day face
us before God's judgment seat.
We are not known, we cannot be known. As we advance
on our lonely path, the conviction deepens day by day. We
must bear with it-it is our trial, and our punishment. And
so much the more as we strive to be true with ourselves, so
much the more will the pain of in any way deceiving others,
even though involuntarily, by appearing to be what we are not,
become acute.
To tell what we are, and what we have been; to face the
sorrow, the disappointment, perhaps the scorn and contempt,
with the support of that one thought, at least I am no longer
untrue; that is the yearning of the heart which has looked
calmly in the face the contrast between its secret sins, and its
profession of holiness. For this yearning there is no remedy,
but to accept the approbation of men as our penance, and to
turn from it to that Omniscient yet all Merciful Redeemer,
" who knows all, yet loves us better than He knows."
But the young have these feelings only in their germ.
They are conscious of having faults, but they cannot discriminate between them.  They have impulses and motives which
their moral sense teaches them are wrong, but they view them
confusedly. They cannot classify them so as to understand
how to deal with them; and when they attempt to speak of
them, they confound natural and innocent.feelings with the
exaggerations which render them sinful. Not understanding
themselves, they have a sense of self-dissatisfaction-a kind
of self-suspicion, which destroys their peace, though it may not
be an actual burden upon their hearts. The voice which tells
them what it is which causes these uneasy feelings, is, therefore, a voice of comfort. To be saved the pain of explanation,
and the attempt to confess what is not thoroughly under
jo
93 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
stood, is a great boon.   At the first shock, indeed, there
is a natural revulsion, but it quickly passes, and the relief
of being thoroughly known, or of believing they are so, and
yet loved and cared for, makes amends for any momentary suffering. They feel, as it were, set at liberty, able to
speak, and ask advice, without restraint, and they are assisted
in the confession of their difficulties by the light poured in
upon their hearts, showing them whence those difficulties
came.
And severe truths are also moral tonics, and we must all,
more or less, acknowledge their strengthening power. There
are occasions, indeed, in which what would otherwise be an injudicious dose may be administered with great effect.
Conceit is one of the few faults which may be reproved
with an amount of plainness of speech inadmissible in most
other cases. It is the result of moral or mental blindness. A
veil hangs before the eyes, which prevents the truth from being
seen; and though it may be removed roughly, the effect will
be good.
Irony, also, is a species of reproof, which is sometimes
efficacious, but it must be used with extreme caution. When
applied to the correction of grave offences, it becomes satire,
and is a censure so severe as only to be applicable to those rare
cases in which a righteous indignation justifiably takes the place
of sympathy.
When Ahab summoned Micaiah to his presence, and bade
him tell whether the siege of Ramoth-Gilead could be undertaken with the hope of a blessing upon its result, the ironical
answer, " Go, and prosper: for the Lord shall deliver it into
the hand of the king," was felt instantly as a contemptuous
reproof of the question, which Ahab's own conscience might
have answered; and the king answered angrily, " How many
times shall I adjure thee that thou tell me nothing but that
which is true in the name of the Lord?"' 
' 1 Kings xxii. 15, 16.
;L
94
I
I
i 
I
'i
REPROOF.
In this case there was no admixture of sympathy; there
was, in fact, no opening for it. The guilty monarch, upon
whom the long-suffering of God had had no effect, was beyond
the reach of that loving reproof which leads to repentance and
amendment. He might be startled by indignation, but he could
not be won by tenderness.
And when this point is reached in the history of any indi vidual entrusted to our charge, we shall do well to consider
whether the task of education may not better be entrusted to
another.
Satire, employed for the purpose of rebuking serious offences, implies deep-seated contempt; and the exhibition of this
feeling is so antagonistic to love and sympathy, it creates so
deep a wound, that when it has once been used, it is next to impossible to touch the gentler feelings, and so to win the heart.
It is, in fact, not so much a reproof as a judicial punishment.
We may deem it right to inflict it, but when we have done so,
we must be prepared for alienation of the heart from ourselves
as its result.
But there is a light satire, free from all bitterness, and appealing to the sense of the ridiculous in the person addressed,
which is useful as well as justifiable, in those cases in which
the fault attacked does not, upon the surface, appear a sin, but
only an excusable yielding to custom, human infirmity, or some
generally admitted maxim of the world.
There is no fault, indeed, which is not, strictly speaking, a
sin; no weakness. or folly, which is not, in some degree, sinful; and nothing is more difficult than to attempt to draw a
strict line between follies and sins. But to refuse to recognize
the distinction is simply to repeat the mistake of Draco when
he endeavoured to punish all offences equally, and ended by
punishing none. We shall often find, also, that in speaking
gravely of follies which have custom or sophistry to support
them, we raise up a host of excuses and counter arguments,
which we are unable, at the moment, to combat; and which
will effectually bar the way against the deeper reasoning by
95 
~
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
which we know that, upon consideration, we should be able to
support our own view.
Instances of petty exclusiveness, absurd following of fashion
in dress, affectation and pretence, may all be classed under the
category of folly, and all are open to an ironical reproof.
Not that such reproof will be instantly effective.  It will,
indeed, most likely be rejected at the moment, and the individual attacked by it may retreat without having apparently
yielded; but it will not be forgotten, neither will it willingly be
encountered again. And to be ashamed of these things is a
great point gained towards their uprooting. We must often
have met with persons really Christian in feeling, and anxious
to do right, who are victims to some of the follies above alluded to; and we may have wondered how it was that such aberrations of principle and taste should exist in connection with
good sense and good feeling upon other points. What has been
wanting in the formation of these characters has, most likely,
been a little good-natured irony in youth.   Lectures upon
worldliness may have probably been given, but the words have
been too serious for the examples to which they were to be
applied, and so have failed to make an impression. A grave
discourse upon the vanity and selfishness of some peculiar kind
of dress, or a sermon upon pride, applied to the customary etiquettes of precedence in fashionable society, strikes the hearer
with a sense of the ludicrous. Yet the grave discourse may
have a foundation in truth; and there is no doubt that the
assertion of precedence is often associated with pride. It requires, however, thought and reasoning power to discover the
sin which is hidden under such folly; and young people think
and reason but little, and so they do not pay attention to what
is said, for they consider it exaggerated.   If folly can be
knocked on the head by good-humoured irony, even before
principle has time to exert itself, a great deal of apparent inconsistency will be avoided. It cannot, however, be toocarefully borne in mind, that this method of rebuke, when used by
a superior to an inferior, can never be safely exercised, except
96
I
I 
REPROOF.
where there is a strong feeling of affection on one side, and of
respect on the other. Where anything like coldness or dis trust exists, it is fatal to real influence.  The arrows of satire,
and even of irony, are always, more or less, steeped in poison,
and in aiming at the fault, the greatest care is needed, lest we
should miss the mark, and only inflict a deadly wound upon
charity. Another mistake in reproving lesser defects is one
which has been alluded to before, that of generalizing. A
child is told, " You are so affected, or so stupid," or " so blun dering;" and the mind is cast down by a vague sense of faultiness, which clouds it all over, like a mist on a November day.
No special instance of the fault has been given, and, therefore,
no special effort can be made to overcome it. But tell her
that she drawls her words, or puts her head to one side, and
she knows what she has to watch against. Show her that she
does not take care to move things out of her way, and, in
consequence, knocks them down, and she can improve. These
defects are, indeed, only symptoms, and, no doubt, the root of
the disease is that which we have really to guard against; but
it is, unfortunately, the case with defects of manner, that, from
habit, they remain, and entail painful consequences, even when
the wrong principle, which was their root, has been, in a great
measure, eradicated. An affected girl will, most likely, be an
apparently affected woman; an awkward girl, an awkward
woman; and the harsh-judging world will condemn what it dislikes, and will never take the trouble to inquire from what source
the defect springs. Untidy dress is, also, a most fertile subject
for these lighter kinds of reproof; in fact, many of the jars
of family life, in the nursery and school-room, arise from it.
Some children have a kind of talent for dress. Everything
they put on fits them. With others it is just the reverse. Yet
it is common to treat the latter case as if it arose from a moral
fault. Children are scolded as if they were really bent upon
looking their worst; and yet, perhaps, they have spent double
the time that others have in endeavouring to make themselves
appear as their friends wish. There is no want of will, but
5
97 
~
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
there is an actual want of power. They are near-sighted, and
do not see what is amiss, or they cannot use their fingers rapidly and well. They want careful, patient teaching; instead
of it, they get irritable reproof; and the consequence is, that
they grow nervous, and dress just as badly as before, and will
probably continue to do so all their lives, to their own great
annoyance and that of their friends.  Real untidiness from
carelessness is quite a different thing; but even here, we shall
find that it is no use to give a lecture upon it as if it were a
mortal sin. Children do not feel that it is so, and they will
never accept what they consider an exaggerated censure.
They will own that their conduct is naughty, vexatious, tiresome, but it is no use to call it sinful, for they cannot perceive
its sinfulness. Constant small penalties, exacted according to
definite rules, and, therefore, having the effect of natural laws,
will, in this case, be more efficacious, and certainly less fretting than lectures. Unpleasant, awkward tricks, also, must,
no doubt, be reproved, and that very sharply; but, as in the
case of carelessness, we can never make a young girl own
that it is sinful to be constantly putting her hand to her mouth,
or resting upon one foot. What is required in these cases, is
patience and temper. No doubt it is most wearisome to be
always recalling the attention to the same thing. It must give
cause to suppose that no effort is made to improve; and yet,
very likely, there is a real effort, only habit is so strong. We
might, perhaps, under such a trial strengthen our patience by
thinking of our own habits in God's sight. How many things
there are which He has all our lives been warning us not to
do, and yet which we still persist in doing! And we might
help the child we are educating by showing why these apparently slight things are of such importance. Tricks are like little tormenting insects constantly buzzing about us. We try to
overlook them, but they will thrust themselves before us; and
when the annoyance is felt every day, and all day long,jt becomes almost unbearable. Even a very strong affection will
scarcely stand the ordeal of a perpetual, disagreeable, or even
98
i
i 
i
99
a merely fidgety trick. Say this to a child, and she will rec  ognize the necessity of watchfulness, and endeavour to correct
her bad habits; but without such explanation, the moral vir tue of standing straight, and keeping her fingers quiet, is be yond her comprehension, and although she certainly ought to
strive to do what she is told, as a matter of obedience, yet,
after all, human independence is strong, and human beings,
even children,will ask, " Why?" when they find that great
stress is laid upon seeming trifles.
Unpunctuality, again, is a most vexatious fault, which
must be constantly noticed, because of its fatal consequences,
and which yet can scarcely be called a sin. Practical reproof
is desirable in this case. If a child cannot be ready in time
for a walk, she may be left behind. If she is not dressed for
a party, she may stay at home. If she cannot get up in the
morning, so as to appear at the breakfast table, she may
be compelled to lie in bed. This kind of reproof is but fore stalling the discipline of society, which punishes unpunctuality
most effectually; and if deliberately carried out it will probably have some effect, though not all that we hope or imagine;
for persons often reach middle life before they open their eyes
to the moral evil of unpunctuality. To these practical remedies may be added, from time to time, an earnest appeal to a
child's right feeling and good sense.  She may be made to see
the consequences of unpunctuality, and so her better principles
may be roused to make a strenuous effort against it. To this
may be added with great effect one definite rule: to take first
that which must be done; and afterwards that which may be
done.  If it is a question between writing a note, and preparing to join a party for a walk at a certain hour-dress for the
walk first, and write the note afterwards. If it is necessary
to be ready for an early journey, let the carpet-bag be packed,
and then sit down to read. It is but a simple rule, but if it
can once be thoroughly rooted in the mind, it will be the means
of avoiding innumerable trials of temper. And in this, as in
so many other cases, what young people want is to be shown how
REPROOF.
'...,. I:..:
.. I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
they may do right, to have something distinct, marked, put before them. Every one feels personally the annoyance of unpunctuality. The delinquents are nearly as much provoked
with themselves as their friends are with them; but every time
the temptation arises some excuse presents itself, and without
a definite rule by which to guide themselves they almost inevitably give way to it.
One more remark may be made upon the subject of reproof,
addressed to those who cannot bring themselves to reprove at
all. This is not a very uncommon case with mothers, and to
them nothing can be said except that they are abdicating a solemn duty, and that upon no sin does the punishment of God
more surely follow. As it was in the days of Eli, so it is now.
Because his sons made themselves vile, and he restrained them
not, therefore God swore unto the house of Eli, that the iniquity of Eli's house should not be purged with sacrifice nor
offering for ever.'
And yet Eli expostulated, which is more than many persons can bring themselves to do; but because he was not zealous for God's honour, therefore the curse fell upon him.
And is not this sin of parents more or less the temptation
of all who are called upon to educate? We speak when we
are angry, we reprove when our attention is particularly drawn
to any special fault, but indolence interferes with our quickness in perceiving what is wrong, and want of moral courage
prevents us from rebuking it when we do perceive it.
The father continually puts off the unpleasant task of reproving upon the mother, and the mother is very glad to devolve it upon the governess, who, perhaps, doubting the extent
of her own influence, thinks it better not to attempt it.
It is easy to scold a little child, but it is by no means so
easy to find fault with a girl of fifteen or sixteen, and excuses
for not doing so are always ready. " It will do more harm
than good; it will only irritate. Girls of that age are Wilful,
and very jealous of interference."  These things are easily
11 Sam. iii. 13, 14.
100 
REPROOF.
said, and readily believed by a self-deceiving heart. And
moral cowardice is so common, and conceals itself under so
many garbs, that we scarcely recognize it as being wrong.
But if we have not learnt how to give pain when necessary,
if we cannot bring ourselves to utter an unpleasant truth, we
may as well relinquish the task of education altogether; it
may almost be said we may as well relinquish the attempt to
do good under any form.
Truth is the foundation of respect, and unless we have the
respect of the young, we shall never have their love. There
are things most unpleasant to be said, for which there seems
no fitting opportunity, which are repugnant to our taste or our
reserve; but if it is right to say them, they must be said;
and if we do not say them, we are educating upon a falsity,
and we shall hereafter reap the consequence.  The most humiliating rebuke which can be uttered is more palatable to the
young mind than the tenderest sympathy of language or manner, when it is felt that beneath this tenderness there is a shrinking from expressing what is really thought.
Truth, as the basis of reproof-truth, uttered gently, softened by sympathy, but pure and unalloyed! It is the burden
which God lays upon every individual soul to which he has
entrusted the charge of another.  We  may flee from our duty
as Jonah fled from preaching to the Ninevites, but punishment
will assuredly overtake us as it did the prophet; not perhaps
now, in the busy rush of the world, but in those lonely hours
when our work is well-nigh done, and we fold our hands wearily and look back upon the past, and trace the separate courses
of the young lives wvhichl we have been permitted to influence,
and compare what they have been with what they might have
been, if we had only had the courage to reprove when we
were bound to reprove, to warn when the heart was open to
warning.
101 
CHAYrER TX.
FORGIVENESS.
AFTER reproof comes forgiveness, a subject upon which
there would seem but little to be said. Forgiveness, it may
be thought, is pardon, the putting away and forgetting the
offence. And yet when we come to inquire, we shall find
that this is not always the idea formed of it.
A little child is forgiven quickly and readily.  It throws
its arms around its mother's neck, and she wipes away its
tears, and covers it v:ith caresses, and the next moment the
mouth is bright with smiles, and the voice is ringing with
laughter. But it is not so at a more advanced age. Forgiveness in the mind of a young girl of thirteen or fourteen is
often associated with the idea of a homily upon the offence
which has been committed, with the addition, perhaps, of a
warning against other faults, more or less connected with it.
This is by no means an encouraging prospect to a childproud, probably, and resentful, conscious of having been in
the wrong, yet seeing many excuses for herself,' and battling
by the aid of a will, as yet only half converted to the right,
against the strong temptation to stand up for her own cause.
But let us look at some instances of rebuke and forgiveness
in the Bible. There is one which will present itself at once to
us all; that of Nathan and David. The tale by which the
prophet strove to open the eyes of the self-deceived mowarch
to the extent of his iniquity, was the most cutting reproof that
the tongue of man could administer; and when it failed in its
I
II 
FORGIVENESS.
effect, the words, "Thou art the man," were like the arrow
aimed at the heart which, it might have been thought, would
have destroyed, rather than reawakened its spiritual life.
A hardened sinner would have been more hardened by it;
but David was not hardened, and Nathan knew it; and when
there is any tenderness in the conscience, it will respond to
truth before all things.  The prophet followed up the bold assertion, with a yet more bold enumeration of the sins which
had been committed, and the punishments which were to follow. " And David said unto Nathan, I have sinned against
the Lord. And Nathan said unto David, The Lord also hath
put away thy sin; thou shalt not die." 1
We hear no more of reproof, nothing even of warning, or
exhortation. There is, indeed, the declaration that God would,
for the sake of others, inflict on David a sorrow which all
should know and understand; but, then, " Nathan departed
unto his house."
We will turn to other examples of forgiveness in the New
Testament.  "A woman which was a sinner, when she knew
that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster box of ointment, and stood at His Feet behind Him
weeping, and began to wash His Feet with tears, and did
wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed His Feet,
and anointed them with the ointment."' It was the silent
confession of her guilt-the silent entreaty for pardon. Our
Lord took occasion from her conduct to reprove the Pharisee
in words which, if his proud self-righteousness had not so
fenced his heart as to render it impenetrable, must have
touched him to the quick.  To the woman  He  only said,
" Thy sins are forgiven. Thy faith hath saved thee; go in
peace." 3
That was no solitary case.  Have we not all marvelled at
the perfect, the free, the unexpected pardon of the woman
taken in adultery?  Have we not all read the parable of the
2 Sam. xii. 13.              2 St. Luke, vii. 37, 38.
3 St. Luke, vii. 48, 50.
103 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
Prodigal Son, with somewhat of a sense of astonishment, that
the very fuist movement of repentance should be received, and
the sin apparently overlooked, as if it had never been committed?
God's ways are not as our ways: His thoughts are not as
our thoughts. We think that the time of confession and forgiveness is the time for warning and counsel.  He knows that
it is not so.   He sees how sensitive the wounded spirit is at
such a moment; how quickly it catches the least tone of lingering anger, and how soon the barely subdued pride rises
again. He knows that the heart wants confidence, that it can
scarcely at first believe in the fact of forgiveness, and so He
gives it rest, that it may learn to understand its new position.
If we forgive, and if we mean our forgiveness to be effective, as was that of our Redeemer, it must stand complete, and
alone.  When the words, "I am sorry," are spoken, and we
know that they are not words of course, we must give an instant, hearty pardon, and let the past fault be buried, until,
with the full consent and wish of the offender, it is brought out
again to be examined, so that it may be guarded against more
carefully for the future.
We may sometimes, especially in cases of deception, have
tried the plan of half forgiveness. We may have received a
child's confession, and had what is called a serious talk, upon
the offence, and we may have ended with saying, " I forgive,
but you must remember I cannot look upon you as I did before; you have no right to expect it." And the answer will
probably be a murmur of sorrowful acquiescence. And upon
this species of agreement we may have separated. But we
shall find that we cannot keep to it. There is no such thing
as half forgiveness. Pardon is like truth. It is one, indivisible. A half truth is a whole falsehood. A half forgiveness is a
whole enmity and punishment. We shall feel it ourselves, and
the child will feel it also. We shall be restless under it, And a
further explanation must speedily follow; at least, when there
is a real desire for mutual good understanding-for improve
104
I 
FORGIVENESS.
ment on the one side, and sympathy on the other. There are,
indeed, many cases in which acknowledgment of error is super ficial; there is no real sense of wrong, and the words of con trition are mere worhs of course. But even then it is better
to say at once, " I cannot thoroughly forgive, I do not trust
you," than to use the sacred words of pardon with anything
like a double meaning. It will have more effect upon the
child's mind. If she has been told that she is forgiven, she
will feel herself justified in putting the offence away from her
memory; but as long as she knows herself to be unforgiven,
the fault will burden her conscience, and she may possibly feel
compelled to exert herself to get rid of it by amendment and
sincerity of purpose.  This retaining of anger is, however, a
very doubtful measure. It can only be safely resorted to after
long experience of unreality and carelessness. God's method
of pardon is surely our safest example.  "Seest thou how
Ahab humbleth himself before Me? because he humbleth himself before Me, I will not bring the evil in his days: but in his
son's days will I bring the evil upon his house." l
And yet God at that very moment knew that Ahab would
die in the battle unrepentant and under a curse.
But it may be said, this full pardon, where repentance is
doubtful, will encourage indifference to transgression. If a
child is perfectly sure that she will be forgiven as soon and as
often as she owns her fault, she will become careless as to
committing it. This would, no doubt, be true, if forgiveness
and escape from punishment were one and the same thing.
But we do not find that they are so in God's moral government, either in nature or revelation. The spendthrift owns
his sin, and through the Atonement of Christ it is blotted out
as if it had never been; but he does not therefore escape the
punishment of poverty. When Nathan pronounced the pardon
of David, he did not therefore revoke the sentence of family
misery, which was to be his curse for the remainder of his life;
and because a public sin required a public retribution, further
1I Kings xxi. 29.
105 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
punishment was added. " Because by this deed thou hast
given great occasion to the enemies of the Lord to blaspheme,
the child also that is born unto thee shall surely die." 1
Now, if we look into these punishments, we shall see that
the first were what may be termed natural; that is, following
in the natural course of events, as cause and effect; whilst the
second was judicial, that is to say, a special suffering was inflicted for a special sin.
That the first punishments were natural will be evident to
any person who studies the sequence of events which followed
David's fall; the respect of his people lost, and the way thus
opened for Absalom's conspiracy; that conspiracy strengthened by the assistance of Ahithophel (the grandfather of Bathsheba), by whose direct counsel the punishment prophesied by
Nathan was carried into effect; and-perhaps the most striking
natural punishment of all-when Absalom's rebellion was
crushed, the miserable subjection of the repentant monarch to
the imperious will of Joab, his confidant and the instrument of
Uriah's murder.2
As these events followed each other, David's memory, and
David's heart, must have recognized in them those seemingly
inevitable consequences of human action, which  take from
them the idea of their being instances of God's present wrath,
and suffer the conscience still to find repose in the thought of
being forgiven. God had pardoned, but He would not interpose to alter the fixed laws by which one event succeeds
another, and therefore David suffered. He was, as it were,
his own executioner. But in the case of the death of the little
infant, it was different.  There was no fixed law, at least none
which the human mind could recognize, according to which
the child must die. The affliction appeared in the light of a
direct punishment from God, and therefore, as it would seem,
' 2 Samn. xii. 14.
2 The whole of this argument, as to the consequences of David's in, is
taken  from  Professor  Blunt's  "Scriptural  Coincidences,"  Part  II.
chap. xi.
106 
FORGIVENESS.
the severity of its announcement was tempered by a merciful
explanation of the reason for which it was sent.
David was forgiven. He was to look upon God as his
merciful and loving Father, and although a special judicial
punishment was to be borne, it was to be for the sake of
others, and not for his own. He was repentant already; he
needed nothing to make him more so. He might have been
set free, and no distinct punishment exacted; but "' because
the enemies of God might blaspheme," when they saw an in stance of, what might be called, prosperous guilt in the case of
a king who professed to be God's servant, therefore his child
must die.
The distinction between the two kinds of punishment inflicted upon David will perhaps give us some clue as to the
mode in which the difficult but often necessary task of combining punishment with forgiveness, may be carried out in
education.
We have already spoken of natural punishment, that is to
say, fixed rules according to which certain penalties are affixed
to certain actions. These are analogous to the natural laws,
according to which the moral government of the world is directed; and, as in the instance of the Jewish monarch, there
is no call upon us to interpose so as to prevent their being carried into effect against an offender, although forgiveness may
have been complete, without even a memory of the past remaining. No one who is really penitent ever expects or even
wishes for such an interposition, and therefore to say, " I forgive, but you must still submit to the punishment you have incurred," excites no resentment, and raises no doubt as to the
sincerity of the pardon. But if we feel it necessary to inflict
any extra punishment, we must give our full reason, and we
must be careful that this reason shall be such as will carry
with it the accordance of the person who is to suffer.
David, indeed, prayed for the remission of the sentence
passed upon him. The feelings of the parent were too strong
to admit of his acquiescing without an entreaty that his child
107 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
might be spared to him; but when he knew that the decree
was irrevocable, the fact did not lessen his consciousness that
God's favour was restored to him. He could still say, humbly
and trustingly, " Restore unto me the joy of Thy salvation;
and uphold me with Thy free spirit:" and with that recognition for God's outraged honour, which was the reason given
for the infliction of his own chastisement, he could add, "Then
will I teach transgressors Thy ways; and sinners shall be converted unto Thee. Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O God,
Thou God of my salvation: and my tongue shall sing aloud of
Thy righteousness. O Lord, open thou my lips; and my
mouth shall shew forth Thy praise." 1
And this same perfect acquiescence in punishment, when
used as a means to correct a fault, or for the sake of warning
to others, will be found in children. They will see instantly
that such punishment has no unkindness in it, for their recognition of what is right and just, and in accordance with reason
and common sense, is clearer than that of the generality of
persons more advanced in age.
If they rebel against what is demanded of them, from
passion or resentment, they do not attempt to disguise the
fact. Let any one watch the sophistries of his own heart, or
observe those which reach him every day from the false reasonings of men, and contrast them with the simple free acknowled,gment of sin, and acceptance of sin's consequences,
from the lips of a child of twelve or thirteen, who is really
sorry for having done wrong, and really anxious to do right,
and he will at once own that the intellect of the head and the
intellect of the heart (if such an expression may be admitted)
by no means correspond. The child perceives at once the
truth which the man or the woman sees, only indistinctly,
through a mist of proud and sophistical argument. We too
often confuse the idea of suffering with that of atonement,
and suppose that by suffering, we in some way make amends
for our sin. The child sees the distinction between the two,
1 Psalm li. 12-15.
108 
FORGIVENESS.
and accepts forgiveness as a free gift, and punishment, when
justly inflicted, as the inevitable result of its own misconduct,
or as the needful warning for others.  Children are wilful and
unreasoning, but we shall often find that they, in their simplicity, are nearer to God than we in the strength of our human
reason. " Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter the kingdom of heaven."
We look upon these words as allegorical. It may be that
we should be more successful in the task of education if we
accepted them literally; if, whilst educating the young, we
also educated ourselves; confessing even as a child confesses;
receiving forgiveness, even as a child receives it; and acknowledging the necessity of chastisement, even as a child acknowledges it, when it receives and returns the kiss of pardon, and
then leaves us to bear the penalty of its fault, with a brave
heart, and a loving spirit, which converts the chastisement for
sin into the blessed instrument of restoration and amendment.
109 
CHAPTER X.
ADVICE.
IT has been implied in what has previously been said, that
anything like a repetition of reproof should never accompany
forgiveness; but advice is not reproof, and it will very often
happen that, after forgiveness, advice will be both needed and
requested. The mode in which it may best be offered is a
very important subject for consideration; but before we reach
this point, we must inquire into the nature of the materials
with which and upon which we are required to operate.
Evil, we must always bear in mind, is not a distinct principle in itself, but a perversion of good. That this is so will
be evident, when we bring before ourselves the doctrine involved in the contrary statement. If evil is a principle in itself, then it must either be distinct from God, in which case it
would be eternal, self-existing, and we should arrive at the
1VIanichean idea of two deities-one good, and the other evil;
or it must have been created by God, in which case it would
belong to the Nature of God, and He would cease to be good.
Both these doctrines will at once be rejected with abhorrence; but if rejected, we must accept the only other alternative, and admit that evil is distorted or exaggerated good.
We recognize this truth, indeed, in the very words which
we use in speaking of evil. We say that man's nature is fallen
-that is, its proportions have been destroyed, but the fragments of which it was composed remain. We say this is a
ruined world; that is, a world the order of which has been 
ADVICE.
disturbed, although the materials with which it was built are
still visible. The analogy holds good in other cases. The
ingredients of medicine and poison are the same; the natural
difference existing between them is a difference of proportion.
Fire and water are in their elementary properties alike, whether
they nourish or destroy.
But it must not be supposed that the magnitude of evil is
lessened by the fact that, instead of being a principle in itself,
it exists only in the form of distorted good. On the contrary,
it is increased. That all good things become the worst in their
perversion is a proverb. God teaches us this in nature, by
the instances already brought forward, namely, the destructiveness of the very elements which, when used in their right proportion, are indispensable to man's life and health; and He
teaches it also in morals, by the facts which are continually
brought before us in our dealings with each other. The most
cruel of all creatures is a cruel woman, because by nature she
is the most gentle and merciful. The most fierce of all wars
is a religious war, because the principle of religion is in its
nature the principle of peace.
But if the elements of man's nature require only reconstruction, it would seem that the task is in our own power.
The Bible, however, tells us differently. It speaks of regeneration-renewal. It warns us that without the infusion of a
new Spirit, the Image of God-that Image in which man was
created-can never be restored.
This statement can also, in a measure, be verified by analogy. We cut a branch from a tree, and, left in that state, it
will die. We graft it into another, and the living sap circulates in it again, and it lives: the great distinction in this case
between natural and spiritual revivification being, that in the
former case, even whilst separated from the source of life, the
principle of life is still existing in the branch, though it must
sooner or later die; whilst in the latter, life is entirely lost, and
can only be recovered by actual regeneration.
But, though the nature of man is indeed fallen and ruined,
ill 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
and only the indwelling Spirit of God, and the principle of love
to God, can really restore it to its pristine form, it must not be
thought that we have nothing to do as regards arranging and
preparing the elements of which it is composed.  " Work out
your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God
which worketh in you," 1 is a command as applicable to education as to self'discipline. God alone can make the children
we love holy, but we can assist in removing the obstacles to
holiness; and having this object in view, we must examine
well the materials of character which come under our influence, and endeavour so to correct and arrange them that we
may not, in striving to destroy a fault, overlook the virtue of
which it is the indication.
An impulsive, rash, self-confident character is also active
and energetic. A selfish, over-careful disposition contains the
germs of prudence. An indolent character is usually gentle,
and unwilling to accept provocation. A jealous temper is an
affectionate one.   An irritable temper is sensitive, quick in
perception. Vanity is the exaggeration of an amiable desire
to please. And the reason why so much good advice, or advice which is meant to be good, is received so badly by those
to whom it is offered, very often is, that in touching the fault,
the virtue is touched also; and then the natural instinct of
self-defence exhibits itself in the form of an excuse.
Now, if we wish to give advice which will be palatable as
well as true, we must show sympathy with whatever is natural and innocent in the feeling which has been aroused, before we give a caution against exaggeration. A child we will
suppose requires advice as to the control of its temper, a warning upon the sin of giving way to passion, and the frightful
consequences which may result from it. Let us begin with
sympathy. " Life in all its forms is very trying-our fellowcreatures are doubtless very provoking, and passion comes
upon us suddenly: we are not all born with that quiet temperament which can patiently submit to injury, real or imagi                      I Philip. ii. 12, 13.
112 
ADVICE.   *'
nary, and if we were, many evils would be tolerated which now
are overcome. But passion is sinful, there is no doubt upon
that point; and as passionate persons have naturally more energy than those who are by nature meek, so they have greater
power of self-control, if they only choose to exercise it. The
spirit which urges us to compel another to yield to us our
right, may also be exercised in compelling ourselves to give
way. We must do battle with something; then let it be with
our own evil temper: let us, through God's help, master
that." When the better feelings have thus been appealed to,
more definite advice for special occasions may be given, with
every hope of its being well received. So, again, with vanity.
It is of no use to tell young persons-any persons, indeed-not
to care what is thought of them. They cannot help it. The
opinion of others is very important to us all. This truth may
at once be admitted; and in admitting it, we show sympathy
which touches the youthful heart, and wins its confidence. It
feels that it is understood. It will enter, then, into the distinction between a desire for the approbation of those whom
we respect, and a desire for the admiration of the world; and
it will also understand the difference between wishing to please,
and wishing to give pleasure; wishing to please being a refined form of selfishness, and wishing to give pleasure, on
the contrary, a form of unselfishness. Advice, however strict,
given in this way, will be listened to cheerfully without irritation, and so it will be effective. The principle is the encouragement of good rather than the condemnation of evil, and the
former is far more powerful than the latter.
It may, perhaps, be objected that this mode of dealing with
faults is irrespective of religious principle; that we shall do
better by teaching a passionate child to think of the meekness
of Christ, and a vain child to seek for the approbation of
God; thus appealing directly to the highest of all motives of
action.
In answer to this, it must be said, that the one principle
does by no means exclude the other. Because you rouse a
113 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
passionate child's energy by reminding her that God has given
her a natural strength of character, and that this strength is
intended to be used for self-discipline, it does not at all follow
that you are to omit the lesson to be drawn from the meekness
of Christ; or, because you tell a vain child to seek for approbation rather in giving pleasure than in personal pleasing, it
does not follow that you should omit to direct her thoughts to
the highest approbation of all-the approbation of God. But
it must be remembered that all children and young persons
are not equally open to these highest motives. Religious feeling is a plant of slow growth, and passion and vanity are plants
of quick growth. Before the former can be applied as an efficacious remedy, it is often needful to do our utmost to uproot
the latter. And religious feeling is also delicate and sensitive
if we attempt to force it we shall kill it. It does but jar and
irritate the young mind to suppose that it can be influenced by
motives which it is conscious it does not rightly appreciate.
Some children are early touched by religious motives-they
will respond to them at once; but others shrink from them,
and turn away when an endeavour is made to thrust them
upon them. The greatest possible care is needed with regard
to this question of religion, and its direct inculcation as a motive of conduct. The subject must be reserved for another occasion, but it cannot too strongly be stated, that in striving to
suggest the mode, or rather perhaps the order, in which advice
should be given-namely, that of sympathising with and encouraging what is good before attacking what is bad-it is not
for a moment intended to put aside religion as a motive, but
rather to dispose the heart to receive it when it can fitly be
suggested.
A sanction for this recognition of good in that which, in the
form under which it presents itself. is evil, may be found in
some of our Blessed Lord's warnings to His disciples. The
sons of Zebedee desired to sit, the one on His Right Hand,
and the other on IHis Left Hand, in the Kingdom of glory.
Ambition and self-confidence were in the request; but love-a
114 
ADVICE.
desire to be with Christ-was contained in it also. Our Lord
represented to them the difficulties which must prepare the way
for such a reward. Could they drink of His cup, and be bap tized with His baptism? Love answered yes; and the answer
was sincere. Then carne the answer to love, the promise that
they should be like Him, that they should be the sharers in His
sufferings; and after it followed the gentle reproof, " To sit on
MIy Right Hand and on Mly Left Hand is not Mine to give;
but it shall be given to them for whom it is prepared." 1 So,
again, on a similar occasion, there was a strife among the
disciples " which of them should be accounted the greatest."
In that form the feeling was earthly; but the desire to be
great and glorious in the Kingdom of Heaven was a desire
which our Lord Himself had inculcated. The earthly wish,
therefore, was checked by Him, but the natural and innocent
longing was acknowledged  and encouraged: " Ye are they
which have continued with Me in My temptations; and I appoint unto you a Kingdom, as My Father hath appointed unto
.Ie."    Once more, the Apostles rejoiced in their power over
the spirits of evil.  Our Lord promised them a continuance
and increase of that power, and then came the warning.
" Rather rejoice, because your names are written in Heaven." 3
And if we would give advice efficaciously, we must also
take care that we look at the character with which we are
dealing as a whole. Every one who knows his own heart at
all, knows how easily he may be misjudged by those who take
but one phase of his disposition and overlook others. This is,
in fact, the root of all prejudice and injustice; and it need
scarcely be said that advice to be useful must be fair, and unbiassed. And this general outside view of a character will be
peculiarly helpful and supporting to a child, or a young person,
because it is so difficult for them to attain it for themselves.
Children accept the characters given of them without examination; and if vanity, or obstinacy, or ill-temper, or any
Mark x. 40.         2 St. Luke xxii. 28, 29.
s St. Luke x. 20.
115 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
other disagreeable quality should happen to be very marked,
the fact will in all probability have been impressed upon them
by nurses, brothers, and sisters, until at length every other
quality seems swallowed up in this unamiable characteristic.
*' Such a child is perverse or conceited," is said, constantly, as
if that one trait described the whole disposition.
It is a gain, which cannot be estimated, when, after a general condemnation of this kind, a young girl's eyes are opened
to the fact that, naughty though she may be in this respect, or
even in a great many others, there is still some good remaining. People are afraid to tell children of their advantages,
whether moral or physical, lest it should make them conceited.
But conceit does not consist in knowing what we possess, but
in over-estimating its value. No one can make a proper use
of his powers unless he knows that he has them. The owner
of the ten talents must have been quite aware that he possessed them, or he would never have been able to make with
them ten talents more. Truth under any form is the very last
thing we have to fear. And a child oppressed by the burden
of some besetting sin, which, perhaps, she has for months been
struggling against unsuccessfully, will enter upon the contest
with renewed vigour, when it is pointed out to her that God
has given her, in her own heart, principles and feelings which,
instead of being hopelessly bad, are really pleasing to Him.
We do not find that our Blessed Lord rejected the good that
existed in those who approached Him, because He also perceived the evil, or that He allowed the one to hide the other.
The rich young man came to Him with the impulse of warmhearted devotion, and inquired, " Good Master, what shall I
do that I may inherit eternal life?"  Our Lord tested him first
upon those points on which He knew a good response could be
given; and when in reply to the enumeration of the commandments He was told, "'Master, all these have I observed from
youth," we are expressly informed that "Jesus beholding him
loved him" 1-loved him for that which was good in him, in
1 St. Mark x. 20, 21.
11'6 
ADVICE.
no way rebuked him because he had said what in his heart he,
however erroneously, believed to be true; but only tested him
still further, and by that test sent him away grieved, yet with
his eyes opened to the fact that his love was not that which he
had believed it.
Again-one of the scribes listened to our Lord as he was
reasoning with the Sadducees, and " perceiving that he had
answered well," ventured, ill a spirit very different from that
of the lawyer, to question him for his own satisfaction. Our
Lord replied fully, and when the scribe exclaimed, " Master,
thou hast said the truth," the Redeemer seized, as it were,
upon that sudden conviction, openly approved and encouraged
it by the words, " Thou art not far from the Kingdom of God."'
Yet we do not read that the scribe, any more than the rich
young man, was so far in earnest as to follow Christ.
But further, if we would give advice effectually, we must
be watchful that we do not thrust it forward uncalled for.
Every one knows the irritation caused by an acquaintance, or
even a friend, who is always advising.  Every one must have
felt the impulse to reject the advice, let it be never so wise.
simply because it was not asked for. Now, children are by no
means so unlike grown-up people as we are sometimes apt to
imagine. They are extremely alive to the rightful authority
of the persons who advise,-they will not listen to the wisdom
of Socrates, unless Socrates has a right to counsel them.
Mothers who bring up their own children well, are sometimes
apt to think that they may lend a helping hand to their friends
who are not quite so successful. They take upon themselves
to criticize and suggest, sometimes to approve. Possibly, this
interference may be endured by the parent; but it will be rejected by the children, and resented as an offence. Whatever
is to be said to the young in the way of reproof or guidance,
must be said not only in the right way, but by the right person, at the right time. As a matter of prudent counsel, the
result of experience, the warning may be given, never, as a
1 St. Mark xii. 34.
117 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
general rule, to find fault or to advise when the duty belongs
naturally to another person. The governess, for instance,
must reprove for herself, the mother for herself. If the mother
receives the complaint of the governess, and undertakes to rebuke or punish an offence of which she is not personally cognizant, she will very frequently find herself in a difficulty.
Excuses will be made which she cannot test, and counter complaints will be brought which, if they are listened to, lessen
respect, and if they are rejected without a hearing, will awaken
the sense of injustice. And so, again, if want of moral
courage, or a dislike to saying disagreeable things, should induce a request that in some particular case we would, taking
the office of a friend, reprove or advise instead of the person,
whether parent or governess, on whom the duty really devolves, we shall do much better to decline. The request could
only be made under the idea that we possess influence, and
possibly we may. But if we give advice when we are not
called upon to do so, we shall almost certainly lose it. If we
would only strive to recall the occasions on which we have
been led in this way to interfere without an acknowledged
right (and who is there that has not, at one time or other,
been guilty of this folly?), we should probably see ample cause,
from our failure, to own that we were mistaken. Well-intentioned people are often so very eager to satisfy their consciences
by giving advice! It is a great pity that they do not try to
satisfy their understanding also. For there is such a thing as
a morbid, an ill-regulated, even a selfish conscience, or rather
that which calls itself conscience. As Dr. South says,'" Coinscience is no distinct power or faculty from the mind of man,
but the mind of man itself applying the general rule of God's
law to particular cases and actions." If, therefore, the mind
is not enlightened by common sense, conscience must be at
fault.
And so, once more, with regard to the right time for offering advice. We might be more anxious to act judiciously
in this respect, if we would remember that, probably, more
118 
ADVICE.
than half the mistakes from which we have ourselves suffered
in life, some of them, perhaps, being fatal as regards temporal
advantages, have been owing less to the saying or doing that
which is in itself unwise, than to its being said or done at the
wrong moment. Impulse, impatience, the desire to get rid of
a disagreeable burden, will urge us to express what is upper most in our thoughts; and this is the common motive for a
lecture at the time of forgiveness. The one idea suggests the
other, and we say what we have to say without consideration.
If we can only govern ourselves, be patient, watchful, tender hearted, we shall soon find an opening for the words of affec tionate guidance which we long to utter; but (if we examine
ourselves, we shall scarcely hesitate to acknowledge it) this
longing to give vent to advice which we think will be useful,
is too often only the longing to vent a little feeling of irritation;
it is the excuse for saying that we have been annoyed or pro voked; that we are weary or disappointed.
When our Blessed Redeemer met the disciples, after His
Resurrection, He waited for many days, and vouchsafed to appear to them often, before we are told that He alluded to St
Peter's threefold denial, even by the question, " Simon, son of
Jonas, lovest thou me?" That could not have been because
He was indifferent, because He had overlooked or forgotten
the sin.  But He chose His time   He was content to wait.  It
was not of Himself He thought, but of the Apostle.   He desired, we may believe, to reassure St. Peter, to give him ease
in His Presence, before He would refer to his fall.
There is a lesson for us in that caution and patience; only,
in practising it, let us remember that delay must never be omission. One is almost afraid at times to give a warning against
a mistake on one side, lest it should be construed into approbation of a fault on the other.
119
t
I 
CHAPTER XI.
TRAINING.
BUT there are many other ways of training and guiding
the young, besides giving advice.   Perhaps, indeed, advice,
taken by itself, is the least efficacious of all the means we are
called upon to adopt. There is a daily, hourly training, which
goes on almost unconsciously, and certainly indirectly, through
the medium of general conversation, arrangements for the employment of time, words dropped without any particular meaning; to say nothing of that most important of all educational
influences, example. We are, in fact, all educating one another
more or less. It is not a very pleasant thought, though it is a
true one. It makes us so responsible. But we shall not teach
ourselves to educate rightly by dwelling constantly upon the
idea; for if we do, we shall probably be afraid to move, and
shall attempt to remain inactive; forgetting that to stand still
when the world goes on, is in its results a movement of the
most important kind.
Perhaps, one of the most influential principles to be adopted in this daily, and what may be called unconscious, training
is that of seizing upon the good points of a character, whatever they may be, and using them as engines for the extinction
of the bad. This is, indeed, only following out in action the
same idea which has been already suggested with regard to
words. Implant and cherish good, and so, through God's
grace, evil will die away.
" Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not
yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when Heshall 
TRAINDIG.
appear, we shall be like Him; for we shall see Him as He is.
And every man that hath this hope in Him purifieth himself,
even as He is pure.":   When we feel that we are the sons of
God, when we are sure of the blessed hope of Heaven, the
struggle for purity follows as a thing of course.
But, it may be objected, young people do not feel that they
are the sons of God; they cannot realize the hope of Heaven.
Theirs is but an intellectual knowledge. Granted, in too many
cases; yet the principle may be applied in a different way.
They may not be what is called religious, though there is no
reason to assume the fact; but supposing, for the sake of argument, that we cannot appeal to direct religious motives, are
there no others which we may make use of?
Let us first consider what our estimate of a character
usually is.  When we are called upon to describe it, what do
we say? " Such an one has a most violent temper, she is
self-willed, and proud, but then she is very truthful and affectionate." Another is provokingly indolent and forgetful, but
she is unselfish and very generous. A third is decidedly selfish, almost stingy; but she has a strong sense of justice, and
is very trustworthy. A fourth is vain and irritable, but her
conscience is quickly touched, and she is very open and
candid.
There is no character which is all evil; none which has
not some one or more good qualities to counterbalance those
which are faulty. And if we can see the disposition as a
whole, so as to estimate the good that is in it, then our wisest
plan will be to begin the work of training, by nourishing and
cherishing it. An appeal to affection and truthfulness may
diminish the violence of passion. Unselfishness and generosity will rouse the indolent to exertion. A sense of justice,
and conscientiousness as to truth, may open the eyes of the
selfish; sincerity and candour may destroy the self-delusion of
the vain.
And there is no danger in owning that this counteracting
1 1 St. John, iii. 2, 3.
6
121 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
good does exist. On the contrary, it will awaken hope and
energy; it will give heart to begin the struggle with the besetting sin; and let that once be commenced in earnest, and all
that can be wished for, as regards religious principle, will
speedily follow. People talk as if religion always took root
and grew up in the heart in a certain necessary order; first,
conviction of sin, then sorrow and repentance, then faith, then
amendment; and as if nothing could be genuine goodness
which did not follow in that order. This does not seem to be
God's idea of religious growth; or, at least, there is a very
great deal of thought and feeling which there can be no possible doubt that He approves, and yet which does not show itself in that order.  Good in every form must come from Him,
and if He chooses to touch one heart through the medium
of affection, another through natural unselfishness, another
through truthfulness, or the sense of responsibility, why are
we to look coldly on the work because, according to our notions, it is not the result of genuine religious feeling? Only
lead the young to wish to be good; only make them see what
their faults are, and induce them, in all earnestness and sincerity, to strive against them, from a desire to please God; and
repentance and faith must soon be awakened, and that in a
much more simple and enduring form than can result from
excitement of feeling.
A striking instance of the manner in which the good
points of a character may be used to neutralize and subdue
the evil, may be found in our Blessed Lord's treatment of St.
Peter.
The defects in St. Peter's character were undoubtedly ambition, impetuosity, weakness, and self-confidence, united with
moral cowardice. We see these traits constantly exhibiting
themselves, Ambition made him contest, jointly with the
other disciples, the place of honour in Christ's Kingdom; it
led him to ask the direct question, "! Behold, we have forsaken
all, and followed Thee; what shall we have therefore?"'
1 St. Matthew xix. 27.
122 
TRAINING.
Impetuosity led him to cut off the ear of Malchus in the gar den. Self-confidence, after impelling him to assert his will ingness to die for his Lord, induced him to thrust himself
into the high priest's palace-the place of danger-and moral
cowardice then compelled him to the sin of denial.
Now, if we had been called upon to deal with a character
like that of St. Peter, our first thought would probably have
been that his faults required that he should be checked, kept
in the background. We should, above all things, have feared
to place him in a position of prominence, or of great responsibility. But it would seem that our Blessed Lord had no such
fear. St. Peter was one of the chosen Three who were the
witnesses of His glory, and of His humiliation. To him were
words specially addressed, which, though afterwards spoken to
all the Apostles, and therefore not exclusively his, have yet
given him, in the eyes of a large portion of Christendom, a
position above all his brethren. To him, also, was the charge
"to feed the flock of Christ" repeated three several times,
with the evident design of restoring him to the place of confidence which he had lost by his threefold denial; and to him,
though the Apostle of the Jews, was granted the privilege of
being the first to open the door of hope to the Gentiles.
What was the meaning of this training-for training it
certainly was; and what was its result?
We have spoken of St. Peter's impetuosity and ambition,
his self-confidence and moral cowardice.   Was there nothing
more noble, more winning, in his character? Can we forget
the intensity of his affection, his eager self-devotion, his simplicity and candour? Nourish these characteristics, by placing, the individual in a position in which they will be peculiarly
brought forth, and give him the experience of his own weakness, and the sense of a heavy responsibility, and the very exercise of the good will, almost unconsciously, tend to destroy
the evil. It would seem to have been thus in St. Peter's case.
Placed in a position of prominence, commanded to feed the
flock of Christ, he had full scope for the exercise, in its best
123 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
form, of his earnest impulsiveness.   Love to his risen and forgiving Lord, converted his natural impetuosity into an enduring desire to live and to die for Christ; the desire was strengthened by every opportunity for action; and when he had learnt
to desire Christ's glory, he no longer ambitiously sought his
own. His simplicity and singleness of character enabled him
to direct all his energies to one sole object, and this gave him
a spirit of determination which, to a certain extent, must have
counteracted his moral cowardice; though it is evident from
his conduct, when the controversy respecting circumcision was
carried on, that he was still liable to be swayed by the fear of
the world's opinion.
His candour, exercised by the continual call to weigh and
judge the character of men, and deepened, doubtless, by the
recollection of past transgression, checked his self-confidence;
and the sense of an overpowering responsibility gave the balance that was wanting to a disposition containing in itself so
many elements of inconstancy and inconsistency.
Let any one read St. Peter's epistles, especially the first,
by the light of St. Peter's character and life, and he will see
how, through God's grace, and His merciful training, evil may
be converted into good; the sins of a fallen nature into the virtues which belong to the saints of light.
There is still the evidence of an ardent spirit, rejoicing in
temptations, and regarding the trial of faith as the pathway to
glory and honour; but that glory is always connected with the
thought of the sufferings of the Saviour whom he so dearly
loved; and from those sufferings are deduced the lessons of
patience and humility, which the Apostle had himself learnt by
such a grievous experience. Urging his converts to warfare
-:for St. Peter's energetic spirit must always have felt the necessity of conflict-he tells them to arm themselves with the
Mlind of Christ, to clothe themselves with humility, that so they
may have the strength of God on their side; to be sober and
vigilant, resisting the devil by steadfastness in the faith; and,
as if recalled by these words to the consciousness of the un
124 
TRAINING.
stable, uncertain disposition, which even to thile end of his
earthly career he must, more or less, have had cause to struggle against, he closes his warning with that most solemn
prayer, which contains all that the most anxious heart can
crave, for those about to enter on the battle of life.
" The God of all grace, who hath called us unto His Eternal Glory by Christ Jesus, after that ye have suffered a while,
make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you." 1
It is the description of St. Peter's own career, the utterance of his own experience of his Redeemer's enlightening,
strengthening, establishing love.  And if the training which
he received may not, as in fact it cannot, be safely adopted in
all its particulars by us, it nevertheless gives us a lesson which
may be of infinite importance to us, if we will but apply it, by
the light of reason, to the education of the young.
In the routine of daily life it is wiser to cheer with approbation than to be frequently finding fault, wiser to trust than
to suspect, to appeal to affection than to reprove and reproach.
Such a suggestion as this may be misunderstood. It may
be interpreted to sanction weak-minded indulgence. This is
the risk that must always attend every general observation,
especially one which has reference to education. Yet the rule
may hold good notwithstanding the mistakes of those who attempt to apply it. It is not a rule applicable to little children,
or children of three or four years old. At that age, there
must be a constant, gentle check, a continued reminding of
what has been commanded. The mind is so plastic then, that
one idea is almost instantly effaced by another; it is only by
repetition that we can produce any permanent impression; and
to overlook a fault is in part to cherish it.  But it is very dif
ferent as years go on.   The character then develops, as it
were, of itself. There will be peculiar tastes, tempers, feelings, all which in part constitute what is sometimes called the
idiosyncrasy of the individual, over which we have no control.
We can no longer mould it; we can but guide it; and if then
1 St. Peter v. 10.
125 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
we are perpetually reproving and punishing-though there may
be just ground for our complaints-we shall destroy the very
principles on which we must depend for the conquering of
those faults.  Let us only ask ourselves (if we have forgotten
what we felt when we were young), what we should feel now,
if we were openly reproved every time we gave way to a besetting temptation, known perhaps only to ourselves.  What
irritation and almost despair it would cause!  Or if, taking a
low view of sin, we strive to resist a temptation merely because we are ashamed of yielding to it, and dread the reproaches of conscience if we do yield, how powerless the principle is!
But if we think that our Redeemer is watching us, and will be
pleased with us if we overcome, the effort ceases to be an effort. And, in like manner, a girl who has been reproved for
a bad habit every day for months, and has never apparently
made any attempt to subdue it, but has only become sullen by
being continually punished for it, will grasp, and battle with,
and conquer it of her own accord, if some strong affection is
rouseV, some motive  iuggested which shall make it appear in
the light of love rather than that of stern duty.
It is in this way, in fact, that the religious principle, when
once it has taken root in the heart, acts so as to change the
whole character in a degree acknowledged to be supernatural.
The man who would have struggled fruitlessly for his whole
life against some favourite sin, when only human motives influenced him, will relinquish it at once when the love of God
has touched his heart. And, though in a far lower degree, all
good principles have somewhat of this same converting power.
Let a careless, forgetful, yet conscientious child be placed in a
position of responsibility, and the sense of authority and duty
will do more than years of warning towards correcting the
habitual negligence. Give an extravagant but honest girl an
allowance, and the necessity of strictly paying her debts corrects the extravagance.  Let an indolent but affectionate girl
be placed in a position which makes others dependent upon her
for happiness, and she will rouse herself to exertion.
126 
TRAINING.
This appears to be the clue to many of those orderings of
God's Providence, which at first sight are so strange and unaccountable to us. We see the weak-minded placed in a position which requires strength; the vain surrounded by those
who minister to their vanity; the proud permitted to rule; the
selfish allowed opportunities for tyranny; the passionate for
violence. We say continually, "If such an one had only been
differently circumstanced, he would have done well." But this
is scarcely justifiable language. Who ordered or permitted
those circumstances? If it was God, then surely He knew
best. He must have seen, what we could not see, that there
were other counterbalancing qualities in the character which,
under those same circumstances, might, if the person himself
had so willed, have served to counteract the temptation; which
might indeed have done so all the more effectually from the
very position of trial in which the individual was placed.
This does not, indeed, prove that we, in our ignorance,
may venture to do what God does in His perfect knowledge,
and voluntarily place the person, about whom we are anxious,
in a situation which, we know, is likely to excite the faults
against which he has to guard.  But it may reconcile us to
many events in life, which appear to us untoward; and it may
assist us in the decisions we are sometimes forced to make, in
which outward circumstances appear to call a person to a certain post, whilst natural qualities appear to render him unfit
for it.  We are judges of outward circumstances, so far as to
be able to see whether there is any claim of duty in them.
We are not judges of individual character, so as to foretell
what effect those circumstances will have upon it.
And further-as it is more essential to drawv out the good
points of a character than to set ourselves to uproot the bad, so
there is no reason to dread the effect of praise, when such good
qualities are exhibited in action. On the contrary, praise,
when well deserved, is a most efficacious instrument of inmlprovement.
An idea is entertained by some persons that praise involves
127 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
the idea of merit; and as no one can do more than his duty,
and, therefore, no one can, strictly speaking, have any merit,
it is supposed that to praise encourages a false motive of
action.
If it be so, then is man's system of education wiser than
God's. MIost certainly we never find that God fails to praise;
on the contrary, it would seem as though He carefully singled
out matter for commendation, even in characters which, to the
human eye, would seem full of imperfection. St. Paul, speaking by the Holy Spirit, gives us a list of those who, in the old
times, were distinguished for their faith; he makes honourable
mention of them, as those that pleased God. We hear of
Gideon, Barak, Samson, and Jephthah, not one of whom but
exhibited great infirmity of character; as if to make us feel
that the Almighty will never overlook what is right in the
heart, though there may be much in it also which is very
wrong; and if we would seek for instances of praise, given
directly to the individual, the Bible is full of them.
Let us think of Abraham listening to the voice of the angel,
as he pronounced a blessing upon the patriarch's obedience.
" By myself have I sworn, saith the Lord, for because thou
hast done this thing, and hast not withheld thy son, thine only
son: that in blessing I will bless thee, and in multiplying I
will multiply thy seed as the stars of the heaven, and as the sand
which is upon the seashore; and thy seed shall possess the
gate of his enemies; and in thy seed shall all the nations of
the earth be blessed; because thou hast obeyed My Voice." 1
Must not the promise, vast though it was, have been, at
first, almost overlooked in the overpowering joy of such approbation? Or, let us hear Solomon making his request for " an
understanding heart," a request which, we are expressly told,
"pleased the Lord;" and receiving for answer, "Because
thou hast asked this thing,.... behold, I have done according to thy words:.... and I have also given thee that which
thou hast not asked, both riches, and honour: so that there
'Gen. xxii. 16, 17, 18.
128 
TRAINING.
shall not be any among the kings like unto thee all thy days." 1
" Solomon awoke, and behold it was a dream;" but it was
no dream that he had received the praise of the Almighty,
and in thankful delight, " he came to Jerusalem, and stood be fore the ark of the covenant of the Lord, and offered up burnt
offerings, and offered peace offerings, and made a feast to all
his servants." 2
Again, when Josiah, in his youth, dedicated himself to
God's service, and yet failed to obtain forgiveness for the people who had so grievously offended, surely the words of praise
for his own individual piety, must have been inexpressibly consoling.  " Because  thine heart  was tender, and thou hast
humbled thyself before the Lord... and hast rent thy
clothes, and wept before Me; I also have heard thee, saith
the Lord.  Behold, therefore, I will gather thee unto thy fathers,and thou shalt be gathered unto thy grave in peace; and
thine eyes shall not see all the evil which I will bring upon
this place." 3
Or, if we turn to the New Testament, can we possibly forget the open, decided approbation shown by our Blessed Lord,
in so many instances; the praise bestowed upon the faith of
the centurion, and the Syro-Phlcenician woman; upon the devotedness of Mary, when she sat at His Feet and heard His
Word; and upon the penitent love of the woman who was a
sinner?  Can we put aside the parables, which tell of the tal
ents diligently used and increased, and the wonderful words of
acceptance, " Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast
been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over
many things: enter thou into the joy of thy Lord "? 4 Or the
yet more thrilling, because more distinctly real, prophecy of
that glorious praise which awaits the Redeemed-" Come, ye
blessed of My Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you
from the foundation of the world "? 6
I 1 Kings iii. 11, 12, 13.
9 2 Kings xxii. 19, 20.
St. Matt. xxv. 34.
9
129
' I KiDgS iii. 15.'
' St. Matt. xxv. 23. 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
It would seem folly to dwell upon the subject of praise,
as if it could ever be a matter of doubt that it is allowable,
were it not for the misconstruction of persons who, finding it
incompatible with their theory of salvation, or with their experience of human imperfection, imagine that there is such
danger in its application, that it must either be as much as
possible omitted in education, or counteracted by the constant
repetition of the fact, that every act of a fallen creature has in
it something sinful, and that the best of men can never merit
praise.
No one could have known that fact more certainly than He
who made man. No one could have felt it more keenly than
He who died for him.   Yet we never find our Redeemer
shrinking from giving praise; we never find Him hedging it
about, cautioning and warning at every moment when He is
bestowing it. Praise, as it comes from His Lips, comes freely, fully; it is the outpouring of His love. He does indeed,
on one occasion, remind His disciples that when they have
done all, they have only done their duty; but he expressly
adds, "Say (that is, say to yourselves), we are unprofitable
servants." 1   ie does not declare that it will be said to them;
neither does He say it. Rather, He tells them that even the
"cup of cold water" given in His Name will have its reward.
It need scarcely be stated that praise, to be valuable, must be
given cautiously, cordially, and rarely. Praise given indiscriminately, as a matter of course or of necessity, is really no
praise. But, when well deserved, it should never be withheld,
even though it may seem likely to minister to vanity. For
vanity, like all other faults, is the distortion of a quality in
itself good. Love of approbation is inherent in human nature,
and without it we could never know the happiness derived
from the consciousness of God's favour; and though in the
false liberality and gentleness of the day, a great deal of sinful
vanity is fostered under the title of love of approbation, yet
the wrong application of an epithet does not interfere with the
1 St. Luke xvii. 10.
130 
TRAINING.
fact that it may be applied rightly. That which is well done
-done from a right motive, and in a right way-does deserve
commendation; and if from a dread of consequences we withhold the legitimate reward, we shall but foster in another shape
the very evil we dread. Mortified vanity, when joined with a
sense of injustice or unkindness, is more deteriorating to the
character than gratified vanity, because it excites envy and illwill; and in all cases, by a natural reaction, the fact of not
having received the praise which is our due, renders us liable
to over-estimate our own deserts.
But there is something more than praise which, in examining the principles of Divine education, we find to be allowable. God's servants were all more or less faulty, and they
were reproved and corrected for their faults; but, in so far as
they were sincere, their service was acknowledged with tokens
of outward respect. The word may seem strange when used
in such a connection of ideas, and yet it is not strange. All
that is good comes from God, belongs to God, and therefore
when He respects and honours it, He respects and honours that
which is a portion of His own perfect nature. Enoch, " translated that he should not see death;" Noah, saved with his
family when a guilty world perished; Abraham, blessed with
the title of " the friend of God;" Job, acknowledged as God's
servant at the moment of his deepest humiliation; MIoses,
bearing on his countenance the reflection of the dazzling glory
of the Most High; Daniel, raised to power in the court
of Babylon; these, and very many other of the distinguished
characters under the Jewish dispensation, were openly recognized as worthy of respect. They were not only supported in
the midst of trials, but they were placed in positions in which
the world was compelled to own their greatness. And even
under the Christian dispensation, when men were to be taught
the blessedness of poverty of spirit, and the nobleness of meekness, and this through the medium of the world's contempt
and persecutions, it was but in order to the more complete
triumph of those virtues. Christianity conquered the world
131 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
even outwardly, and it conquers still. God has decreed that
it shall be reverenced, and it is reverenced; too often with
only an external respect, but even this false homage is the tribute paid to its intrinsic greatness.
It may seem far-fetched to use such an illustration with reference to the education of children in ordinary daily life; but
" the child is father of the man," and is open to the same influences. The feeling of being respected by others is a great
support to self-respect; and without self-respect the character
must be ultimately degraded.    A  watchful, conscientious
child, for instance, is deserving of respect, though there may
be very many defects in her character. And it will be good
both for herself and others that these qualities should be acknowledged openly; more especially if there should be any
deficiency of intellectual power likely to excite ridicule. Respect will help her to bear up against her other shortcomings,
and assist her to get the better of them. It will enable her to
use the moral capital with which she is to begin her trade.
Show a child that she possesses something sterling-something
which those to whom she looks up can really value, and she
will be encouraged to labour more heartily in other ways.
Praise, if given in private, will not be sufficient.  There must
be a public testimony to moral worth. And this is very different from the praise which ministers to vanity; for it can be
given only by those who are judges of what is good, and it
will be valued only in so far as it is the result of such sound
judgment.  Admiration may be offered by the ignorant, and
it will be willingly accepted by the vain; but respect necessarily implies the appreciation of the qualities which deserve
it, and may therefore be accepted without fear, since none can
receive it without being conscious how little-if they were
known as God knows them-they would be found to merit it.
132 
CHAPTER XII.
CONFIDENCE AND RESPONSIBILITY.
To show respect for the good qualities which a child may
possess, is, it has been said, both useful and important, when
we are attempting to educate. But the mode in which this
respect should be shown, may not, to all persons, be clear.
There are, indeed, many ways of evincing the feeling which
will at once suggest themselves, but they seem to belong to a
more advanced age; and yet the two which are likely to be
the most efficacious may be tried with those who are quite
young, and will almost always be found successful as means of
strengthening the character and raising the tone of mind.
All young people are open to the sense of confidence and responsibility, and these influences being, as they are, of such
great importance, it may be desirable to consider them separately, and in detail.
" I tell you this because I trust you," is an appeal to all
that is honourable in the heart; and if we would find a sanction for such confidence in God's education of Hiis servants,
we shall be at no loss for instances of it in the Bible. Let us
turn to that most wonderful interview between the Almighty
and the patriarch Abraham before the destruction of the cities
of the plain. " And the Lord said, Shall I hide from Abraham that thing which I do; seeing that Abraham shall surely
become a great and mighty nation, and all the nations of the
earth shall be blessed in him? For I know him, that he will
command his children and his household after him, and they
shall keep the way of the Lord, to do justice and judgment; 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
that the Lord may bring upon Abraham that which He hath
spoken of him." 1
It was many years afterwards that Abraham's faith endured its severest trial; but it may surely be thought that the
consciousness of the especial confidence placed in him by the
Almighty, nerved him, in the hour of fiercest probation, to
prove that he was not unmindful of it.
Or, again, consider the case of Daniel;-after three weeks
of abstinence and humiliation, a revelation of future eventsevents which carried his thoughts to the end of Time, and the
final establishment of the Kingdom of Christ-was made to
him, and the reason is given.
"Fear not, Daniel: for from the first day that thou didst set
thine heart to understand, and to chasten thyself before thy
God, thy words were heard, and I am come for thy words." 3
The remarkable point about this revelation is, that unlike
the generality of the scripture prophecies which were uttered
avowedly for the benefit of a nation, or of future ages, it was
given especially for the enlightenment of the prophet himself,
and ends with distinct words of consolation addressed to
him. " Go thou thy way till the end be; for thou shalt rest,
and stand in thy lot at the end of the days."'
In this respect it is a striking contrast to the revelation
made to Balaam, of which he knew nothing till the moment
came when, finding himself compelled to utter it before Balak,
he confessed himself the unwilling instrument for foretelling
the future greatness of Israel.   "Behold, I have received
commandment to bless: and He hath blessed, and I cannot
reverse it." 4
Or, once more, let us look to the conduct of our Blessed
Lord in this respect, with regard to His disciples. Again and
again we are told of His explaining things to them privately,
taking them apart, foretelling the sorrows which were coming
upon Him. He seems, indeed, to have made it a chief object
1 Gen. xviii. 17,18,19.
1 Dan. xiL 13.
134
I Dan. x.1 2.
4 Num. 20. 
CONFIDENCE AND RESPONSIBILITY.
of His intercourse with them to show that He trusted in them,
and to evince this trust by confidence. Almost the last day
before His betrayal, as He sat upon the MAount of Olives, we
find Itis disciples gathering round Him with questions respecting the precise fulfilment of the prophecy which He had just
before uttered.  They came unto Him, we are told, privately,
as if assured of a hearing; and the freedom of their inquiry is
as remarkable as the fulness with which it was answered. It
shows such entire trust in the willingness of their Lord to satisfy them. " Tell us, when shall these things be? and what
shall be the sign of Thy coming, and of the end of the world?" 1
Such a question could not have been put unhesitatingly, unless
the disciples had, from long experience, known that it would
have been received graciously.
And so also yet later, in that marvellous discourse which
preceded the Redeemer's agony, there is not only the assurance
and the promise of abiding love, but of abiding confidence.
" I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear
them now. Howbeit when He, the Spirit of Truth, is come,
He will guide you into all truth: for He shall not speak of
himself; but whatsoever He shall hear, that shall He eak:
and He will shew you things to come."'2
Confidence, indeed, is made by our Lord the very test and
evidence of love.  " Henceforth I call you not servants; for
the servant knoweth not what his Lord doeth: but I have
called you friends; for all things that I have heard of My
Father I have made known unto you."'
And the working of the same principle is shown in the
formation of the Christian Church. St. Paul, caught up into
the third Heaven, and hearing unspeakable words; and St.
John receiving a revelation in the Isle of Patmos, were alike
instances of men strengthened in positions of peculiar trial and
eminence by the encouragement of confidence, as well as the
discipline of suffering.
I2 St. John xvi. 12, 13.
I St. John xv. 15.
135
I St. Matt. v. 3. 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
Now, it may be thought, that confidence will spring up, as
a matter of course, between parents and children; that it is
the result of natural affection and mutual interests, and that in
consequence there can be no necessity to insist upon it. But
upon examination we shall find that such is not necessarily the
case. On the contrary, under the present system of education
parents and children-mothers and daughters especiallytoo
often enjoy but very little of each other's confidence.
In the first place, their previous lives have, for the most
part, been distant.   The children have lived in the schoolroom; the mothers in the drawing-room. This, perhaps, is a
necessity, but it does not tend to produce confidence. But the
daughters have also advanced beyond their mothers; that is to
say, they possess, as a general rule, more showy accomplishments. They can perform more wonderful feats on the piano,
and talk French and German with greater facility, if not with
greater correctness. They have not yet forgotten the dates
of the English kings, and they have caught up the terms of
science from attendance upon lectures on all imaginable " ologies."  They ride more boldly, and talk more loudly, and dress
with greater eccentricity. Their mothers are not their companions, because they do not join in these things. The schoolroom or the morning room is appropriated exclusively to the
"young ladies" of the family; and when their mother enters
she is received as a visitor, and finds herself decidedly in the
way.   This is too often the case even where the daughters
have been educated in habits of quiet domestic occupation,
and have no desire to be numbered amongst the "fast girls"
of the nineteenth century. They are fast ih one sense, in spite
of themselves; that is to say, they are, in thought and purpose,
travelling onwards, whilst their mothers are travelling backwards. All of us who have reached the middle of life, and
are descending the hill on the other side, must be more or less
conscious of this.  How many of us are gaining new ideas,
and forming new theories, and striving to carry them into
practice as we did when we were young?  How many of us
136 
CONFIDENCE AND RESPONSIBILITY.
are not rather standing still, gazing around with somewhat of
pity and regret, as we watch what we consider the follies of
the young enthusiasts of the day? How many of us are not
even in a degree retrograding-going back to old established
principles, which we once thought we had relinquished for
ever, but which experience has proved to be more sound than
the theories that once appeared so inviting?
We cannot rush forward with the young, because we see
too plainly whither they are going. We cannot hold them
back, because they have life and energy on their side; and the
law of God's Providence has ordained that they shall be the
leaders in life's race. And therefore we stand apart; it may
be, carefully performing our own duties-working, according
to our own rules, the plans which we have tested and approved; and suffering them to walk at will according to theirs.
The separation between old and young has always existed
in a certain degree, and it must continue to exist to the end of
Time; the mistake is in permitting it to produce estrangement
and want of confidence.
It was the remark of a very shrewd observer of human
nature, " Young people think that old people are fools; old
people know that young people are so."
If they know it, then let them make use of their knowledge. Because they are wiser than the young, therefore they
are called upon to offer sympathy, encouragement, assistance,
so far as they possibly can; to relinquish their prejudices, to
endeavour to look at life as the young look at it; to work with
them in their way, even though it may not be the most perfect
way. The old have once been young, and they can, therefore,
in some degree, recall and imagine the feelings of the young.
But the young have never been old, and they cannot, therefore, be expected to understand the feelings of the old. All
good things, all high, noble, generous wishes, all innocent
amusements and pursuits, all efforts at usefulness, however
unlike those which we should ourselves have set on foot, demand our sympathy; and if we give it-give it unsparingly
137 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
we shall in time receive our full recompense. Young people
delight in the support of their elders, when they feel that it
really is support;  and they will listen to suggestions, and
sometimes even profit by others' experience, so long as they
are sure that there is no implied censure underneath the advice
offered. They will, in short, give their confidence and share
their interests; but in order to this result, one preparatory
step is needful-confidence must first be given to them.
And here, in the majority of cases, lies the difficulty, more
especially in those instances in which the superiority of talent
and energy is to be found on the side of the parent. A clever
woman-active in mind and body-accustomed to rule-in the
habit of forming plans and carrying them out successfully-is
very slow in arriving at the perception that the time is come
when others are to be admitted to share her labours; more
especially when in that word, others, her children are included.
They have been subject to her; she knows all their defects,
she has suffered from their deficiencies, she has no confidence
in their judgment. What she wishes to do can be done much
better by herself. And then they are inclined to differ from
her, and she has not been used to be differed from. She does
not understand her children being her judges. It seems as if
it would be impossible to work with them without mutual frets
and jars; and so the mother pursues her duties, and leaves her
young daughters to their amusements; not perceiving that by
so doing she is really fostering that common self-deceit which
leads us all to think that so long as things needful to be done
are done, it does not signify who undertakes them. Young
people, and elderly people, too, will often entirely neglect certain duties themselves; and yet, because they are attended to
by others, never open their eyes to the fact of their own shortcomlings.  T-hus, to perform duties by deputy is the source of
some of the most lamentable self-delusions by which the character may be lastingly deteriorated.
Or again, perhaps the mother takes another view of the
case. Rule and manage she must. It belongs to her position,
138 
CONFIDENCE AD  RESPONSIBILITY.
and no one else would, so she thinks, be able to do as well as
herself.  But her daughters may be made useful, and so she
gives them certain things to do. They are to keep accounts,
or to visit a school, or to read with a young servant, or to
superintend some domestic arrangement, perhaps even to order
dinner. They are summoned from their own occupation, and
the duties are proposed to them. To the mother's disappointment, the idea is received with coldness. The young ladies
prefer their pursuits in the morning room, and do not show any
willingness to lighten their mother's labour. She thinks them
selfish and ungrateful, and she may not be very far wrong.
But there has been a mistake on her side. We, none of us,
like duties simply as duties. Those rather cold and selfish
girls who devote themselves to what pleases them, and cannot
be called to help their mother without showing that they are
disinclined to undertake the task, would probably have been
the first to assist her with all their hearts, if she had set to
work differently. A little confidence with regard to the duties
would have caused them to be viewed differently. Accounts
are very dull when we have only to add up figures, but they
may be very interesting (always supposing we have a capacity
for them) when we know what depends upon them. If a girl
is told what her father's income is, and what are the claims
upon it, she will have an object in watching the expenditure.
And so in the care of schools or charities; let young people
know what they are working for, and give them a share both
in anxiety and in success, and they will put their hearts, as
well as their intellects, into the task allotted them. But merely
to obey, to do what one is told to do, because one is told, and
without being at all enlightened as to the end and object of
one's efforts, is to most minds so irksome, that, without a great
effort of principle, the duty is too often before long either relinquished, or performed so carelessly, that it might as well be
omitted altogether.
There are, indeed, religious systems which teach us to look
upon the act of obeying, without the knowledge wherefore we
139 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
obey, as the highest of Christian virtues.  This is not the place
for discussing the question, but one thing is quite clear, that,
in the ordinary dealings of God with His creatures, such blind
obedience is not required. We might have been so constituted
as not to be able to foresee the result of our own actions. We
might, for instance, have been as ignorant of the reasons why
we are commanded to attend to certain social duties, such as
hospitality, courtesy, respect, as Abraham was of the reasons
why he was called upon to offer up his son. It is difficult to
imagine such a possibility, and yet we shall see, upon consideration, that the moral sense which teaches us that it is our
duty to act in a certain way, is quite distinct from the comprehension of the reason why it is good for us to do so. A little
child knows when it has done wrong as clearly and as quickly
as a grown-up man; but it cannot understand what it is which
constitutes what may be called the mischief-the injurious
consequence of the wrong. This comprehension is the result
of reason; it becomes more and more evident as reason develops; and in thus giving us reason, enabling us to see how, and
why, good produces good, and evil produces evil, God has, if
it may be said with reverence, given us His confidence. He
has taken us into His counsels, given us a share in His intentions, made us, as the Apostle terms us, fellow-workers with
Him. If blind obedience were the one end to be obtained by
this state of probation, we might have been as children all our
lives-gifted, indeed, with moral sense, and placed in positions
in which that moral sense would be called into exercise, and
the choice of obedience or disobedience be given us-but with
no power beyond. But God wills that we should give Him
our hearts, and in order to win those hearts He grants us what
we must grant to our children, when they are capable of receiving it, a knowledge of the end and object of thle duties
required, as well as the command for their performance. This
confidence, it may be observed, is quite distinct from theindulgence of curiosity respecting others: a fault especially reproved
by our Blessed Lord when, in answer to St. Peter's inquiry,
140 
CONFIDENCE AND RESPONSIBILITY.
"Lord, and what shall this man do?" He said, " If I will
that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee? Follow thou
Ie." 1 And so it is distinct also from the indulgence of speculations and inquiries respecting subjects which are wisely
hidden. Such speculations were embodied in the question,
"Lord, are there few that shall be saved?" and were answered by our Lord with the warning, "Strive to enter in at
the strait gate: for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in,
and shall not be able." 2
The confidence which God gives is sufficient to arouse interest, and sustain energy; but it is granted only in that degree which is consistent with His purposes of probation and
our own limited faculties. The mystery of evil-including its
necessity, and the ultimate object for which it is permitted-is
hidden from us; and so, also, is the purpose of our own creation. But the fact that we cannot know all, and that even if
we could know we could not understand all, does not prevent
God from giving us that amount of information which will
enable us to work with a definite aim, and one which IHe
approves, though it cannot be that ultimate one which He
himself intends.   And so, we may venture to say, parents
may give their children a share in their counsels, and explain
to them, sufficiently, the objects they have in view, without
attempting to bring before them the whole, which they might
not be able to understand, or which it might not be fitting that
they should. This is peculiarly the case with respect to some
works of charity and mercy, in which young girls could not
engage if full knowledge of all the circumstances connected
with them were required, and yet in which they may be deeply
interested, and be made to take a most useful part, by a little
judicious confidence.
But it may be said, by thus trusting young people, and giving them a share in works of usefulness, we run the risk of
marring those works. Granted: yet, let us ask ourselves in
what line of conduct is there not risk? We undertake to do
1 St. John xxi. 21, 22.         2 St. Luke xi. 23, 24.
141 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
everything ourselves, and a fit of illness comes, and our works
fall to the ground-because there are none to carry them on.
There is one time of life when our duty is to learn; another,
when we are to carry out independently what we have learnt;
a third, when we are to hand over our tasks to others, and
show how best they may be performed.  This third stage is
not always agreeable. It tells us too plainly of failing powers.
It too evidently bids us look forward to the night that " cometh, in which no man can work."  But when we have arrived
at this period, it is as much our bounden duty to face the fact,
as it is to acknowledge any other of those conditions of our
being which set limits to our powers, and direct them into definite channels. To sit by and see our children performing
imperfectly what we know we once did easily and well ourselves, is no doubt a trial.  But are we unable to bear with
that which God bears with? He trusts His work to feeble
hands. He waits with patience, whilst, from indolence, or
carelessness, we make mistakes, and but slowly learn to correct them. He allows His gracious intentions to be marred,
His purposes of mercy to be apparently thwarted-and why?
Because He is educating us; and because, for the furtherance
of educations responsibility-that second powerful influence to
which reference has been made-and with it the risk of failure,
is imperatively necessary.
We can, indeed, scarcely over-estimate the importance of
responsibility as an instrument in the formation of character. It
is seen, perhaps, most strikingly in the career of young men
sent early to India, and changed from careless, headstrong, or
idle youths, into calm judging, energetic, sensible men.   It
may be one cause of the fact, so often remarked, that India
produces men ready for emergencies. But it may more or less
be remarked everywhere, under all circumstances, and its
value must be acknowledged, even though we may find cause
to deplore the effects of its exaggeration. The children of the
poor, the fatherless, and the widow, how strangely old and prudent they are at an age when the children of wealthy parents
142 
CONFIDENCE AND RESPONSIBILITY.
are scarcely out of the nursery!  The daughter of the labour er, sent out to service at seventeen or eighteen, makes her way
safely, through dangers and temptations which the squire would
shudder to think his own child could be exposed to; and at
two or three and twenty is looked upon as qualified to judge,
decide, and act for herself, like a woman of thirty in the upper
classes. Or, in the case of persons of a higher grade, let us
look at an elder girl left without a mother, and called upon to
~t as the head of a large family: if she is worth anything,
how thoughtful she becomes- how careful and watchful for the
little ones-how industrious, how methodical!  She has had
no training-none at least which can strictly be called training
-she has only had responsibility. It is that which has roused
her, urged, checked, made her observant, self-controlled, given
her sound judgment.  Without responsibility, she would prob ably have been but as other girls; gentle, perhaps, and amia15le, and desirous to do right, but not aware of any particular
claim for exertion, and, therefore, not thinking it needful to
make it.
And it is responsibility which, in the majority of cases,
makes the difference between the young married woman and
the young girl of the same age. Give a young person a house
of her own, and servants to guide, and make the happiness of
another dependent upon her, and she must, if she has any
good at all in her, acquire habits of thoughtfulness and selfcontrol.  But the daughter living in her father's house is, too
often, allowed to have no responsibility. Everything is arranged and provided for her without her effort, or if she is
expected to undertake any particular duty, it must be performed in a way pointed out for her beforehand; whilst, very frequently, her omissions are corrected by some one more careful,
so that she learns at last to think that it does not signify whlether she attends to the duty imposed upon her or not.
There is no real responsibility in all this, and consequently
no training. If we wish to make use of responsibility as an
educational instrument, we must leave free scope for the exer
1410, 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
cise of individual will, and we must be content to bear the
annoyance when that will is wrongly exercised. Once perform
a young girl's duties for her, or let others do so, and the idea
of training her by responsibility is at an end.
This latter statement will probably be uncontroverted. But
the necessity of leaving free scope for the exercise of individual will-what is to be said to that?  Is there really any occasion to enforce it?
The fact will probably be disputed. Young ladies of the
present day are supposed to have a great deal of will, and,
what is more, to exercise it very independently.
No doubt they do, but then they exercise it wrongly, because
against their parents' wishes; and that which is now contended
for, as being in itself good and desirable, is a sphere in which
will may be exercised rightly, because with the parents' consent.  To give one very slight, but very common illustratiopn
a girl old enough to be taken into society is old enough to be
made responsible for her own expenditure; and in order to do
this, she must have an allowance. But she will then choose
her own dress, and if she should not quite agree with her
mother in taste, there is no reason to charge her with disobedience in following her own will. If, however, the mother
should prefer to retain the allowance and the choice of dress
in her own hands, then there must, sooner or later, be a clashing of wills. The mother will decide, and will think it wrong
in her child not to yield at once to her judgment. The daughter will have the fancies belonging to her age, and may not
be sufficiently dutiful to submit without resistance. An unpleasant breach must be the consequence; and both parties
will think themselves injured. The mother will say that her
daughter ought to be guided by her opinion. The daughter
will say that at her age she ought to be allowed to exercise an
independent will. The mistake lies in the mother's not having
marked out a sphere within which, under certain limitations,
will might be exercised. Questions of this kind are springing
up daily in private life, too often causing coldness, undutiful
144 
CONFIDENCE AND  RESPONSIBILITY.
ness, suspicion, and angry sinful words and feelings, which it
is very grievous to watch; they are so entirely opposed to
Christian feeling and principle.
Correspondence, friends, the employment of time, of money,
the choice of duties, must all, no doubt, have definite limits;
but within those limits, why may there not be the free exercise
of will? The object of education with us all is to teach us not
merely how to obey, but how to exercise our will and to gov ern. It is this object, recognized in the public schools of Eng land, by a system of delegated responsibility, that makes them
what, with all their faults, they unquestionably are —the most
important engines for good, apart from direct religion, which
we possess. And the value of government is plainly acknowl edged in the Bible.
The Apostles, when urged forward by the prospect of
future rewards, were told that they were to "sit on thrones
judging the twelve tribes of Israel."  He who had used his
ten talents, so as to gain by them other ten talents, was made
ruler over ten cities. To govern well is indeed far higher and
nobler than to obey well; and for this reason, that the power
of perfect government in finite creatures involves the power
of perfect obedience, since, in order to ensure its perfection, it
must first be exercised upon self. Self-restraint, self-denial,
self-reproof, self-discipline, far stricter than any which we
could venture to exercise upon others, are in fact essential
for the formation of a really high and noble character; but
they are strengthened, if not originally inculcated, by responsibility; and from responsibility, freedom of action is inseparable.
Observations of this kind are undoubtedly open to misconstruction. The tendency of the present day is so greatly to
encourage independence, which leads to neglect and irreverence, that a person who ventures to advocate freedom of action
in young people is very likely to be accused of encouraging
them in their wilfulness and lawlessness.   Even at the risk of
repetition, it must, therefore, again be stated, that strict disci
145
I
.1, I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
pline, and absolute, instantaneous obedience, at eight years of
age, are indispensable preliminaries to freedom at eighteen.
The subject under discussion now, is not what is to be done
with spoilt children, but how those whose education is just beginning may best be trained. If the advice given should be
reversed, or misunderstood, the error will lie with those who
apply the counsel wrongly, not with the person who gives it.
And surely we need the less fear granting responsibility to
the young, however inferior to ourselves they may be, when
we mark the mode in which our Redeemer dealt with His disciples. For three years only was He with them-and yet long
before those three years had expired He sent them forth to
teach and to preach in His Name; and we hear of no restrictions, no laws, except of the most general kind. They were
left to find out for themselves, who, amongst the inhabitants
of the cities they visited, were worthy to receive them. They
were plainly warned that their position would be that of sheep
in the midst of wolves; yet the only caution given them was
that they should be " wise as serpents and harmless as doves."
And so they went forth, but " when they were returned, they
told Him all that they had done." 1
Here, then, was the check. Certain great principles were
impressed upon them, and a definite sphere having been given
them, within which they might act freely, they returned to
their Lord to tell how they had exercised their own independent judgment, and to receive from Him the further warnings
and instructions which might be needful. Such was the training required for those who were afterwards to govern the infant
Church; and so we find that when our Lord had finally withdrawn His visible presence from them, they were able to carry
out the principles in which they had already been exercised,
and to use the experience they had acquired for the benefit of
those over whom they were appointed to rule. Very remarkable, indeed, is the freedom upon all minor points which was
left to the rulers of the early Christian Church. The great
S t. Luke ix. 10.
146 
CONFIDENCE AND RESPONSIBILITY.
outlines of government were, we have reason to believe, given
definitely-for allusions to them are plainly made in Scripture
-but they were filled up as circumstances required, according
to the needs of the moment, and the wisdom of the Apostles;
guided, indeed, by the Holy Spirit, but yet not so guided as to
interfere with free choice and human deliberation. Witness,
for instance, the appointment of the seven deacons to undertake
the secular business of the little Christian community; the de cision of the first Council, upon the question of circumcision;
the directions given by St. Paul to the Church of Corinth; in
some of which he plainly states that he speaks without imme diate guidance from the Spirit of God.
How unlike-how wonderfully different-is all this freedom,
to the working of human power! Let us suppose ourselves if we may be permitted to make such a comparison-called
upon to establish a society which should have for its object the
reformation of even a small State;-gifted with full powers,
moral, mental, and physical-able, in fact, to carry out our
will fully, and to foresee and provide against all difficulties.
How  strict would be our laws-how carefully guarded and
checked! How anxious we should be to state precisely the
way in which every one was to act under every possible emergency; how disinclined we should be to give even the slightest
responsibility to those we felt were our inferiors in intellect
and principle! Volumes would not be sufficient to contain our
rules, our cautions, and restrictions. This is the instinct of
human nature. The power of trust belongs essentially to God.
Man cannot trust others, because he distrusts himself. We
see this plainly in all cases which involve the foundation of
societies, or the working of political schemes: but we see it
also even in such personal matters as the making of wills-the
entail of property. It seems, indeed, to be so natural to men to
wish to hamper their descendants, and take from them responsibility by tying them down to a particular line of action, that
in some cases the civil power is actually obliged to interfere to
prevent such restrictions being carried into effect.
147
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
And when we look at the actual working of societies and
institutions in our own day, it is scarcely too much to say that
the ruling principle of the majority, when founded for religious
objects, is that of concentrated power, rather than delegated
responsibility. Absolute authority, minute direction, on the
one hand; absolute obedience on the other. The idea of escape from responsibility is, indeed, openly acknowledged, in
some cases, to be the temptation to enter such societies.
Whether these principles are necessary for the carrying out of
the purposes of the institutions in which they are adopted, cannot of course be determined without full knowledge of what
those purposes are. But upon consideration it would certainly
appear, that action without responsibility, however instrumental it may be for the attainment of certain definite ends, will
never be instrumental to the improvement of the individual
character; because it is contrary to the training appointed by
God in nature, and the principles of education which He has
marked out for us in revelation.
Our work is for the future as well as for the present generation. Woe be to us if we forget this!
It was for the worthless favourite of a worthless king to
say, " Apres moi le deluge." When the one Eternal Future
was overlooked, all other futures became indifferent. But it
may not be so with us. Even now, as we labour with our
whole heart and thought concentrated on some present purpose, Death stands, as it were, on one side of us, and Time on
the other. And Time is pointing to the dial-plate on which
the hours of our earthly existence are numbered; and Death
is watching the hand of Time, as it silently but ceaselessly moves forward; and when Time shall touch the last
figure, Death will lift his hand to strike, and our work
will cease. But not our influence, not our teaching, not our
counsel, and our warning. That will live on in others;-in
those who are now the young, the ignorant, the thoughtless,
the wilful-who must, perforce, take up our work where we
left it-who must carry on what we have left unfinished-who
148 
CONFIDENCE AND RESPONSIBILITY.
must, like us, labour in their generation, and for their gen eration, and for those who are to come after them; or who, if
they are unaccustomed to responsibility, will stand gazing in
alarm as society-social and political-like the great car of
Juggernaut, moves on; until, at length, too timid to move with
it, too ignorant to attempt to guide it, they are crushed by its
merciless wheels.
It sounds like imagination-unreality. It does not seem
as if the conduct of separate individuals, without name or ap parent influence, could really be of importance. And the
sphere of each is small; the work to be undertaken is, in most
cases, local and immediate. Let it be done, so we say to our selves, in the best way, to suit the needs of to-day; and to morrow, we may well believe, will provide for itself.  True,
in one sense; untrue, in another. Our work must, indeed, be
done in the best way; but, can that be the best which excludes
the cooperation of those who are to take our place whien we
are gone?  If there are no learners, how can there. hereafter,
be teachers? If we do not allow the young to practise themselves in independence and responsibility, how can they be fit.
ted to do what we are doing?
And if we will but follow the example set us by our Lord,
we need have no fear of the consequences of this independence.
The disciples, as we have seen, were exercised in freedom of
action and responsibility, whilst their Master was present with
them. He did not wait until after His ascension to delegate
to them His power; He granted it during His earthly life.
All that He required was, that they should be accountable to
Him. It is an example for us all. It may be followed in
very small matters, but it will have very important results;
and most especially in the case of girls called upon to live at
home, subject to their parents' authority, at an age when
boys are sent out into the world to be, in a great degree, independent.
The same kind of freedom which is necessary for a boy, is,
of course, entirely unsuited to a girl. She cannot roam about
149
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
by herself, or undertake separate work. She must be kept
within limits, which will often appear irksome, and even needless, though, without them, she would be involved in serious
evils. The very fact of the necessity of these restraints renders it, however, incumbent on those whose duty it is to insist
upon them, to give the sense of freedom within the restricted
circle. There can be no interest in home life without it. All
that wealth and refinement, and even love, can offer, may be
lavished upon the young, but without that freedom of action,
which is involved in responsibility, they will still be dissatisfied.
The human mind soon grows weary of amusement; it
learns to dislike splendour, and to be sickened by luxury.
The one thing of which it never tires is the sense of usefulness; and no person can be thoroughly useful who is not
accustomed to responsibility. The girl who is the victim of
ennui in the drawing-room, finds time only too short when she
is allowed to follow out some plan of usefulness in the
school-room or the village; and if this plan is furthered
and encouraged by her mother, they must become one
in feeling and confidence. and the risk of independence is
then over.
The advantage of this early training in responsibility can
only be fully perceived by comparing it with the effects of an
opposite system.
Work alone-work performed mechanically, simply as an
act of obedience-has, it has already been said, but little influence in the formation of character. What we all require to
learn is thoughtfulness; and the habit of suffering others to
think for us, instead of thinking for ourselves, is very easily
gained, but by no means so easily lost. The exceedingly narrow sphere of some persons' duties; the way in which they
shut their eyes to the fact that there are claims lying beyond
the circle of their own families, is very astonishing to those
who are accustomed to realize the fact that no human being
can be associated with them, even for ten minutes, without
150 
CONFIDENCE AD  RESPONSIBILITY.
having some claim upon them for kindness and courtesy, if not
for more direct efforts for good. We see persons apparently
amiable in disposition, wishing to do right, scrupulous in their
religious duties, yet, through it all, living for themselves, working
for themselves, studying for themselves, thinking and planning
for themselves. We see the possessors of great wealth, both
men and women, by no means cold-hearted or avaricious, or
wilfully extravagant, attending to the plain duties incumbent
upon them as landlords, or heads of households, but spending
all their superfluous income upon themselves, doling out their
gifts and their charities in a proportion which, when compared
with the means that they have in their power, would be ludicrous
if it were not so infinitely sad.
We see others, with scarcely any claims upon their time,
beating out their scanty occupations like a leaf of gold-beater's
skin, in order to make them cover the surface of the day; and
yet all the while praising and admiring works of charity and
self-denial, taking, indeed, a real interest in them, so far as
that can be called interest which shrinks from any actual participation in the work.
What is the secret of this frightful veil of self-deceit, this
moral blindness which shuts out from so many the extent of
their duties? Merely the want of teaching, of early training,
the habit of doing what they have been told to do without exercising independent thought or recollecting their own responsibility. The young girl who goes into a shop and orders what
she requires, and has it put down to her mother's account, has
not the least idea of the value of money, or the duties which
attend its possession. She has no inducement to practise selfdenial, because no one, so far as she can see, will be the better
for it. The habit of indulging her own wishes without thought
for others is in this way acquired, and when at length she has
the command of an independent income, she continues the
system of self-pleasing simply because it is a habit. And so,
again, when the daughters of a family, although performing
certain mechanical tasks, concentrate their interests in pursuits
151 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
for their own gratification, whilst their mother undertakes to
arrange and carry out the social and domestic duties of life;
it can be no matter of astonishment if, when they have houses
of their own, they are neglectful of the wants of their friends,
or unmindful of the needs of the poor. They are but doing
what they have been trained to do. The world went on very
well without them when they were young, why should it not
do so now that they are older? They have no knowledge what
poverty, and care, and grief are; how can they search for and
sympathize with them? If they had only been practised in
thoughtfulness in early life, all this would probably have been
different. Responsibility-the consciousness that certain duties were left in their hands to be discharged in their own way,
at their own time, but that still discharged they must be, or
that others would suffer-would have tended to form a habit
of unselfish consideration which might have made them centres
of kindness and benevolence in the positions which they were
afterwards called upon to occupy.
And it is vain to say that duties are not at hand; that in
country places, or amidst the necessary restrictions of a life in
London, young people cannot be made useful. The proverb,
" Where there is a will there is a way," is never more applicable than in the case of duties. Let us do what comes before
us at the moment, in whatever place, under whatever circumstances we may find ourselves, and the performance of this first
duty will open the door for a second. If we cannot go out to
seek for work, we may find work that can be brought to us.
If it cannot be undertaken for a permanence, it may be for a
time. Though it be ever so small, ever so apparently unimportant, yet, if it is all we can do at the moment, let it be
undertaken. No home affords the materials of true happiness
where there is not to be found work for the good of others, in
which many may have an interest, and yet in which each may
have some separate responsibility.
These are not days in which such work will long be wanting, when there is a real wish to find it.  The blessing that
152 
CONFIDENCE AND RESPONSIBILITY.
attends it, we shall more truly estimate if we consider what
work really is.  We often speak of it as belonging to our condition on earth, as part of our punishment, and our probation.
We forget that Adam laboured in Paradise, that angels labour
for the service of God in Heaven; above all, that the Redeemer himself has said, " My Father worketh hitherto, and I
work."
153 
CHAPTER XIII.
HUMAN FAITH.
THE  advantage of early training in responsibility will perhaps scarcely be disputed when asserted as an abstract proposition, but serious difficulties must arise when an endeavour is
made to put the theory into practice.
The human mind is always tempted to exaggeration, and
in the present age, especially, the spirit of independence is so
powerful, that to strike the happy medium between undue subjection to authority, and undue exertion of separate will, may
seem almost impossible.
Yet there are two principles which, if they were only inculcated upon children, from their earliest infancy, would make
it comparatively safe to entrust them with independence and
responsibility as they grow up.  Faith and reverence are the
counterbalances to independence in thought, and decision in
choice and action.
A child's faith in its parents, and in those set over it, is as
essential to its earthly, as faith in God is to its spiritual wellbeing.  Let us, then, consider how faith is to be inculcated.
First of all, what do we mean by faith? The Bible, speaking of religious faith, tells us that it is "the substance of things
hoped for, the evidence of things not seen; "A  and the words
may in a lower and more restricted sense be applied to human
faith, our faith in each other. A child's faith in its parents
includes the belief that all things necessary for its support and
1 Heb. xi. 1. 
HUMIAN FAITH.
happiness will be provided for it, though it cannot tell how; and
also the assurance that the commands laid down for its con duct are intended for its good, although the reasons for them
may not be seen.
And thus we are accustomed to distinguish between faith
and reason; to make faith the foundation of obedience, and
reason only the instrument for the confirmation of faith. But
is this quite a true statement of the relative positions of faith
and reason? Can faith really exist apart from reason? or
rather does not the very name of faith involve the idea of rea son? Faith is trust-trust in a person. A person, whether
human or divine, must have a character, or, in other words,
possess moral attributes. Faith, therefore, implies a recognition of these attributes, which cannot be made without the aid
of reason.  An idiot or a madman cannot exercise faith, except in that modified form of mechanical trust-the result of
experience-which is shared in common with the brute creation.   Herein lies the distinction between  right faith and
superstition; between the religion of the Christian and that
of the idolater. The faith of the idolater has no foundation in
reason; whilst the God of the Christian never demands of
His creatures faith which has not reason for its foundation.
For instance, reason teachles us that God is, and that He is
infinitely just and good. When we have once learnt this truth,
then we are called upon to exercise faith, and to believe that
all which this Holy God does is absolutely right and just, although we may not be able to understand it.  We  must obey
His commands, though we do not see why they are given. So
it is that our Christian faith also rests upon reasonable l)elief.
We have abundant evidence of the truth of our Lord's existence and of His mission; evidence which appeals to our reason.
Having this, we are bound to accept all which He tells us.
Once own that Christianity is true, and it is as unreasonable
to disbelieve any particular doctrine because it does not please
us, or does not accord with our preconceived ideas of what
God would do, as it would be to reject the truth that God is
155 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
the Moral Governor of the world, because in many ways the
method of His government is perplexing to us.  Reason, in
fact, lays the foundation of religion; faith builds the superstructure: let reason intrude into the province of faith, and it
ceases to be reason. And the faith which the Christian exercises when, being convinced of the truth of revelation, he submits himself to its doctrines and precepts, is therefore as absolutely reasonable as that which the child exercises in its
parents, when it drinks off the medicine given it, though entirely ignorant of the drugs of which it is composed.
It would seem to follow from this, that if man's reason
were perfect, his faith would be perfect also.
And we certainly see that when, through wilful self-conceit,
or passion, or the temptations or trials of the moment, we become weak and incapable of reasoning soundly-then our faith
fails.
Sin is not only sin; it is also folly; and God, who knew
this. has most mercifully provided, by I-His teaching both in
nature and revelation, that we should be constantly and practically reminded of the fact.  We  may sometimes have wondered, as we have watched the career of our friends and acquaintances, or looked back upon our own, why it is that
follies, blunders, mistakes, are in this world so severely punished. The bad man-bad in his neglect of God, but wise in
his generation-prospers.   The good man-good in his desire
to serve God, but unwise in his generation-plunges into inextricable difficulties. May not the solution of this problem
be found in the supreme importance of sound reason, as a
foundation for right faith and true morality? If all the foolish
actions of all the good people on earth were allowed to pass
unpunished, simply because of their right intention, the cultivation of sound reason would be utterly neglected, and fatal
confusion would be the result.
The more earnest a man is, the more devoted to Gad's
service, the greater is his power of influence, and the more
needful therefore is it that he should use that influence wisely.
156 
HUMAN FAITH.
The mistakes of good men are probably more injurious
to society than the sins of bad men, and therefore, so it appears, God visits them with a more severe present chastisement.
The paramount importance of reason in the cultivation of
all moral goodness or religious belief, and especially as the
basis of practical faith, may be seen by examining more minutely into the way in which God has been pleased to reveal
Himself to His creatures by evidences which appeal to their
reason, before He makes demands upon their faith.
The first question a child is taught to answer, as a foundation for its religious creed, is, "Who made you?"   " God."
From the fact of its own existence it grasps intuitively the
idea of the existence of its Mlaker. As reason develops, it
learns from the wonders of nature the power of the Creator
of nature; and from its own moral consciousness it is able to
conceive the idea of moral perfection. The child so reasons
without knowing that it reasons. It is aware that faith in
God is a duty; it does not know that unless God had, through
its unconscious reason, enabled it to comprehend the idea of
His existence, faith would have been impossible.
This does not, however, mean that mankind, left to themselves, would have been able to reason out fully the idea of
God without the aid of revelation.   What  the power of
human reason might have been if man had never fallen, we
cannot tell; but certainly our own consciousness, and the experience of former ages, alike tell us that reason, as it now exists in man-liable to be swayed by passion and distorted by
inclination-will too often, when left without aid, arrive at the
most contradictory and absurd conclusions. Neither is any
reasoning in the present day a proof of what reason by itself
can do; because we stand upon a vantage ground which we
have derived from revelation; and looking to the past days of
heathenism, we can only point to one or two instances in
which anything like an approximation to the true idea of the
Deity was reached. When once that idea was promulgated
157
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
by revelation, man's reason, indeed, could not fail to accept
it: but the power of examining into and confirming truth is
inferior to that of discovering it: and this is a fact which, in
extolling the power of reason, we are all too liable to forget;
neither do we remember that, even in this modified form,
reason can only examine and confirm what lies within its own
province; it can only judge rightly of that which it is capable
of understanding.
And yet, notwithstanding all these limitations, it is neverthlleless clear that it is reason which prepares the way for faith;
and so, when we look into the Bible, we shall find that God is
continually strengthening His servants' faith by showing them
that it has a foundation in reason. Abraham was commanded
to offer up his son; but before that greatest effort of faith was
required of him, his reason had taught him, by the experience
of a watchful Providence, a continual interposition in his favour, a miraculous fulfilment of promise, a condescension unequalled in the history of God's dealings with man, that the
Almighty Being whom he worshipped was infinite in His mercy as in His power; and could never demand that which
would not ultimately be for the good of those who would obey
and trust Him.
MIoses was required to undertake a task for which he felt
himself unfitted; but before he was sent to Pharaoh, God
made an appeal to his reason, by showing him that he would
have the power of working miracles conferred upon him. The
Jews were required to follow Moses into the desert; but before they set out on their journey they had, in the plagues of
Egypt, seen enough to convince them, that in obeying his guidance, they were obeying the voice of God. Gideon was told to
save Israel from the Midianites: his faith was weak, and he
asked the evidence of a sign-something which should be a
pledge to his reason that the promise of success would be fulfilled;-and God vouchsafed to grant him  a double Sign.
Hezekiali was told, that in answer to his prayer he should
recover from his sickness; and, in order to strengthen his faith
158 
HUMAN FAITH.
in the promise, he was allowed to ask for a sign from Heaven;
and the shadow of the degrees which had gone down in the
sun-dial of Ahlaz returned ten degrees backward.
So, again, when our Blessed Lord reproached the Jews for
their unbelief, He implied that they did not make use of their
reason.  "The works which the Father hath given Me to finish, the same works that I do, bear witness of Me, that the
Father hath sent Mie." 1 And this argument was brought forward as unanswerable by the man who had been born blind,
but had been restored to sight: " Since the world began was
it not heard that any man opened the eyes of one that was
born blind. If this Man were not of God, He could do nothing. 
The proofs of the Resurrection-the very foundation stone
of Christianity-were reasonable proofs. Our Lord allowed
Thomas to thrust his hand into His Side; He ate and drank
with His disciples; He was seen of them for forty days; and
spake to them of " the things pertaining to the kingdom of
God." And when at length He ascended to Heaven, He left
with them the power of working miracles, as the appeal to the
reason of mankind for the claim which was to be made upon
their faith and their obedience. This, then, is God's plan for
educating mankind in faith; and we may learn from it that, as
nothing can be more erroneous than to insist upon using reason in deciding questions which belong to the province of faith,
so nothing can be more unwise than to insist upon faith being
exercised, when there is no foundation of reason on which to
rest it.
And now to apply this same plan to the education of chil
dren.
Faith, as it has been said, is as essential to them in their
relation to their parents and teachers, as it is to adults in their
relation to God. But there is one vast distinction between the
two cases. God may, and often does, insist upon implicit faith
in us, because He has taught us, by reason and revelation,
St. John v. 36.           2 St. John ix. 32, 33.
159 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
that He is infinitely perfect.  But we can never bring forward
the same argument to support our claims upon any one, because we are most imperfect.  It does not, however, follow
that we can make no such claim upon children, or that, according to a theory by no means rare, they are never to be expected to obey, unless they are told the reason why;.and are
never to be taught anything which they do not understand.
There is a claim of authority, based upon the commands of
God, which is always a reason for enforcing a child's obedience; and there is a natural superiority of comprehension,
and of experience, in the parent, which must always be acknowledged as the reason and groundwork of a child's faith.
But when we go beyond this, we must remember that we are
likely to meet with difficulties. A child's reason develops with
its stature; often, indeed, more quickly than its stature. And
as it reasons, so it will instinctively judge, and approve, or
condemn. Now, if we find that God, Omniscient, Omnipotent, All-Holy though He  is, has such compassion for the
weakness of men, that He vouchsafes to enlighten reason in
order to strengthen faith, so, surely, we may, in like manner,
endeavour to enlighten and strengthen our children.
In infancy and early childhood there can, of course, be no
appeal to anything but the principle of obedience. Neither
can there be any permission given for disobedience afterwards;
but if, when issuing a command, or insisting upon a certain
line of conduct, we were to strive, as much as possible, to
satisfy children's reason, by telling them, in cases in which explanation is possible, why we so acted, we should find them
much more willing to put faith in us in those instances in which
it might not be in our power to offer any explanation.
"lIy mother never gives an order without a good reason,"
is a thought which will at once still the risings of petulance and
wilfulness when a command  is not understood.   But if we
omit to give our reasons when we can do so, the thought will
not be suggested.
And this faith in persons older than themselves is needful
160 
HUMSA FAITH.
for young persons, not only as involves obedience, but as re gards the training of their own minds. The reason why free dom and responsibility are dangerous to the young is, that
such liberty is likely to inspire them with self-conceit and over weening self-confidence.  Faith in the judgment of those who
have had more experience, is the natural counterbalance to
these faults. But most of us learn this trust in experience
only by finding what mistakes we have made in life from the
want of it. We can reason now upon the actions of our parents, our guardians, and teachers, and see how wise and right
they were, when we thought them absurdly wrong. But we
failed, probably, to profit by their experience, when it could
really have been of use, because it was never explained to us.
We were told what we were to do, and how we were to do it,
but the why was left to be discovered by ourselves, and, naturally enough, the answer was given wrongly.  We attributed
motives and purposes which never existed; we thought regulations to be the result of caprice, which were, in reality, the
dictates of self-denial and good judgment; we put, in fact, but
little faith in our superiors, and so the lesson has been learnt
too late to be of use.
The necessity of this education in faith is more especially
to be borne in mind as the counterpoise to the education in
obedience. The two must never be separated by men, because
they are never separated by God.
It will sometimes happen that, from a press of engagements, or from natural abstraction of mind, or simply from
habit, parents who are most watchful not to spoil their children fall into the opposite extreme, and treat them as automatons. They expect to be obeyed; and they are obeyed; and
because their directions are good and sensible, the children's
actions are the same. But with all this obedience in action,
there may be a vast amount of disobedience in spirit, and it
will show itself as soon as the opportunity for the exercise of
freedom and responsibility is granted. Very painful it is to
hear it said, "My father, or my mother, brought me up in such
161 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
or such a way, and I am resolved that my children shall be
brought up precisely in the contrary way." A resolution of this
kind is nearly certain to involve very grievous mistakes.
To have no faith in the judgment of those who have been
our guides, is to determine to buy our own experience for ourselves; and who, on looking back on his own career, will venture to count up the mistakes, the sorrows, it may be the sins,
which have been the price paid for that experience? No one
who sets out in life with such a principle can indeed safely be
trusted with responsibility. Yet it is the natural result of an
education in which the young are not trained to faithI through
the enlightenment of reason;-in which they obey simply because they are compelled to do so, and seldom or never have
the reasons set before them which render such obedience
necessary.
162 
CHAPTER XIV.
RESPECT.
THERE is another safeguard against the misuse of freedom,
which is closely allied to the principle of faith, and is, in fact,
often its embodiment, though it cannot be said to be inseparable from it.
"Honour thy father and thy mother" is the first commandment with promise. What does honour mean?
Any child will reply, " Respect," including in this word all
degrees of deference and attention. But suppose a father or
mother not to be worthy of respect, what becomes of the commandment then?
We do not find that it alters. It has no exceptions. It
does not say honour a wise father, or a good mother; but simply honour them as parents.
There must, then, be a respect which is always binding,
which concerns itself with the outward form, whatever maybe
the inward spirit. For the latter may and must be more or
less changeable, whilst the command given is unchangeable.
But it may be asked, How can this be? God, we are told,
looks at the heart, it is by that He judges. According to the
state of the heart each of us will be either acquitted or condemned at the Last Day. If there is no respect in the heart,
how is it that God can require or value it in the actions?
In endeavouring to reply to this question, we must examine
into the reason of the ordinary proprieties and usages of society, which, in some cases, necessitate the adoption of forms 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
of civility when the inward feeling of cordiality may be wanting; whilst in others they, in like manner, forbid them, though
the inward feeling may exist fully.
We shake hands with a person whom we have known for
years, though we feel that he is thoroughly uncongenial to us.
We bow distantly to a person to whom we are introduced for
the first time, though what we have heard of him may lead us
to look upon him almost as a personal friend. The reason of
this is, that we are, in fact, testifying by our manner, not our
individual feeling, but our recognition of the relative position
in which we happen to be placed. When persons overstep this
line, and, misunderstanding the meaning of such outward forms,
make them, in public, the vehicle of their private sentiments,
every one instinctively feels surprised. Whether in general
society we see a man refuse to shake hands with a person
whom he knows intimately, or a woman fall into her friend's
arms and embrace her, we are equally startled.
Respect, courtesy, politeness, are in their several degrees
incumbent upon us, apart from the Christian spirit which they
are generally supposed to indicate. They have reference to
claims distinct from, though consistent with, and even dictated
by it; claims which must exist so long as society exists. When
they are the result of real feeling, their value is, of course,
greatly enhanced in the sight of the persons to whom they are
shown; but when there is no such feeling, they still may not
be dispensed with, because the absence of feeling does not destroy the fact of the relative position of the individuals.
Persons sometimes speak of the terms used in beginning
and ending letters as if they necessarily led to insincerity.
They do'not see that all which is involved in them is a question of relative position.  " Dear" is, in writing, a word of
courtesy, adopted by gerieral consent to express that the person to whom we write is, in some degree, known to us, and
for certain reasons is, for the time being, recognized as taniding on the same social level with ourselves.  " Truly," " faithfully," &c., are the same.   When we go beyond this, and use
164 
RESPECT.
" affectionately", where society only requires "truly," we, of
course, take the matter into our own hands, and are then answerable for the sincerity of our words.
The consideration of these forms and proprieties may seem
very inapplicable to the respect which a child ought to show to
its parents. There can be no formality, or propriety, it may
be said, in such a case. Manner ought to be and must be the
expression of genuine feeling.
" Must" and " ought" are little words soon uttered, but
they have deep meanings.  We know very little of what must
be, and though we may believe that we know a great deal of
what ought to be, one thing is certain, that we know much
more of what is; and judging from what we see, there is reason to fear that in many cases children do not really feel respect for their parents. And respect, moreover, is a very comprehensive term: it is not confined to one relation of life. The
spirit of the fifth commandment embraces all those distinctions
which place men in positions of superiority and inferiority
towards others, and respect is, in all such cases, due because
of the relative position of the persons, and not because of the
feeling which may theoretically be supposed to exist between
them.
But in this age the claim of respect is often imagined to
have reference to moral qualities alone, and therefore it is
supposed that, if we cultivate these qualities, we shall insensibly cultivate respect with them. How mistaken the supposition is, may be perceived by watching the manners and conduct
of the young people of the present day. It would be very hard
to say that none felt any respect for their parents, or their superiors; on the contrary, we must all know cases in which
there is a most sincere and deep-rooted inward respect, joined
with aa affection of the warmest kind; yet, in the generality of
these cases, we shall find that it is the affection alone which is
made evident to the world. and that often by means of tones
and expressions which savour actually of disrespect. The
feeling which exists is in fact independent of the question of
165 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
relative position. It is even supposed that the recognition of
this difference of position will chill affection, and therefore it
is checked instead of being encouraged. Young people who
are really fond of their parents are inclined to show their
fondness by putting them on an equality with their brothers
and sisters. They address them in an off-hand way-rush in
and out of a room before them, allow them to wait upon them;
strive, in short, to show, as much as possible, that they feel
perfectly at their ease with them. And the parents, thirsting
for affection, delight in all this ease of manner: mothers allowing their boys to behave almost rudely to them, in their
rough caresses and jokes, at the same time petting and fondling them as if the very absence of courteous respect was a
sign of genuine affection.
The working of the same ideas may be seen in other relations of life. A young man will show his regard for a person
older than himself by talking to him freely, asking questions,
expressing his own opinions, as he would to a friend of his
own age. This is his notion of civility and attention. A
young girl will address or answer the governess whom she
likes with a merry good-natured shortness of manner which
she imagines to be indicative of the pleasant footing on which
they stand towards each other; whilst in the case of ordinary
persons, for whom there is no particular feeling, she has simply no manner at all. The little monosyllables of respect
which our forefathers used are considered as absurdly chilling; and even deference of tone, which in such a simple, yet
courteous way, marks the consciousness of a difference of age,
or of social standing, is neglected. We respect each other
still; but-we say it openly-we reserve our respect for character or talent, rather than for relative position; and as in the
case of social position we do not feel ourselves called upon to
show respect in manner, so with regard to age, from habit, we
forget to do so, and in the end our respect is altogether laid
aside. This is of course a broad statement. There must be
many modifications of it, but it will scarcely be denied that it
is generally accepted.
166 
RESPECT.
There is, however, a very grievous twofold mistake in this
neglect of social differences, for it is opposed to the teaching of
God, both in nature and Scripture.
Our object in thus making respect depend upon moral rather
than social distinctions, is, no doubt, in some degree, a desire
that it should be genuine.
Very faulty as the present age is in many respects, and
numerous as are the " shams" which meet us at every turn,
there is still a prevailing, perhaps we may say, a preponder ating desire for truth. Even those who do not feel it are
obliged to profess it, and hypocrisy, as it has been well said,
is, in all cases, "the homage which vice pays to virtue." Be cause we desire respect to be based upon a real foundation, we
are inclined to restrict its outward expression to those instances
in which it is claimed by superiority of talent or of moral con duct. But if superiority of position has also, by nature, a
claim upon respect, there must necessarily be a falsity in fail ing to attend to the claim. To treat a prince like a peasant,
is to ignore the true relation in which he stands to his fellowcreatures; and that the claim does exist by nature, no one
surely will, upon consideration, venture to deny. When men
live together in a society they must, of necessity, institute certain laws for their general government. Those laws must be
carried into execution; and some person must be made responsible for their administration.   The authority may be delegated, but it still is authority; and being invested with it, the
individual claims respect; not from the fact that he is, in himself, superior to all others, for there may be many his equals
in talent and goodness, but merely from the relative position
in which he is placed with regard to them.
Respect for position is, then, a law of nature; but it is
also a law of revelation. This assertion scarcely requires illustration. Besides the numerous positive commands upon
this subject contained in the Bible, the whole spirit of the
Scriptures, as exemplified in the manners, the conversation,
the conduct of the individuals who are brought before us in its
167
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
narratives, shows a state of society, the very basis of which is
the recognition, with the sanction of God, of distinctions of
position.
Titles, gestures, and words of respect and courtesy meet
us at the very beginning of the patriarchal life. Who has not
been struck with the princely courtesy of Abraham when,
bowin g" himself to the people of the land, even to the children
of HIeth," 1 he entreated to be permitted to purchase a sepulchre wherein to bury his dead?  Who has not felt what, in
these days, would be called the tone and spirit of a nobleminded gentleman, in the answer of Ephron, when Abraham
declined to accept the gift which he had offered: " My lord,
hearken unto me: the land is worth four hundred shekels of
silver; what is that betwixt me and thee? bury therefore thy
dead." 2
And the same tone is to be traced throughout the whole of
the early history of the Jews; and a departure from it is a
token of a lowered moral condition. When Joab, after taking
Rabbah, sends messengers to David, and, without preface or
apology, gives him this order: " Gather the rest of the people
together, and encamp against the city, and take it: lest I take
the city, and it be called after my name," 3 we see at once how
low David must have fallen in the sight of his own subject,
when such a message, couched in such words, could be addressed to him; and pity for the king mingles with indignation
at the conduct of the rough, coarse-minded soldier who could
take advantage of his knowledge of his sovereign's fallen,
though repentant estate, to triumph over him with such proud
disrespect.
And in the New Testament, the absence of all respect in
the tone and language of the Scribes and Pharisees is most
remarkable, as the sign of a degraded state of feeling in the
rulers of the people, and, as a natural result, in the people
themselves.  There appears to have been no medium between
worship and equality.  Only in the case of a very few persons
I Gen. xxii. 7.  2 Gen. xxiii. 15.     3 2 Sam. xii. 28.
168 
RESPECT.
of social position and thoughtful minds, do we find anything
like that outward respect which, even before our Lord's Divin ity could be recognized, must have been demanded by the
holiness of His Life and the wonderful character of His teach ing.  Nicodemus begins his inquiries by words of reverence.
"Rabbi, we know that Thou art a teacher come from God:
for no man can do these miracles that Thou doest, except God
be with him." 1  The Galilean nobleman, in his anxiety for
his son's life, speaks with eager respect, " Sir, come down, ere
my child die." 2 The Roman centurion is so impressed with
our Lord's power and dignity, that he confesses himself un worthy to receive Him under his roof: but the Jewish rulers,
and the people who flock around our Blessed Lord, address
Him on terms of perfect equality; more than equality, of superiority; and, at length, even of contempt.
Let us only look at one short conversation. Our Lord was
urging those who were really convinced that His mission was
divine, to continue His followers, and warning them that the
Jews, although the descendants of Abraham, were not really
the followers of Abraham. " I speak that which I have seen
with My Father: and ye do that which ye have seen with
your father. They answered and said unto Him, Abraham is
our father. Jesus saith unto them, If ye were Abraham's
children, ye would do the works of Abraham. But now ye
seek to kill Me, a man that hath told you the truth, which I
have heard of God: this did not Abraham. Ye do the deeds
of your father. Then said they to Him, We be not born of
fornication; we have one Father, even God. Jesus said unto
them, If God were your Father, ye would love MIe.... He
that is of God heareth God's words: ye therefore hear them
not, because ye are not of God. Then answered the Jews,
and said unto Him, Say we not well that Thou art a Samaritan, and hast a devil? Jesus answered, I have not a devil;
but I honour my Father, and ye do dishonour Me.... Verily,
verily, I say unto you, If a man keep MIy saying, he shall
St Jhii. 2.          2S.Jh  v 9
169
I
1 St. John iii. 2.
7 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
never see death. Then said the Jews unto Him, Now we
know that Thou hast a devil. Abraham is dead, and the
prophets; and Thou sayest, If a man keep My  saying, he
shall never taste of death.... Jesus answered, Your father
Abraham rejoiced to see Mly day: and he saw it, and was
glad. Then said the Jews unto Him, Thou art not yet fifty
years old, and hast Thou seen Abraham? Jesus said unto
them, Verily, verily, I say unto you, Before Abraham was, I
am. Then took they up stones to cast at Hlim." 1
This conversation is necessarily abridged, but its tone is
fully given; and let us ask ourselves whether we do not recognize in it the tone of the present day-cavilling, doubting,
critical, captious, refusing to own any power superior to itself,
entering upon every inquiry in a spirit of equality. withholding
all external signs of respect unless compelled to give them,
and even lowering itself at length to insult. Yet we flatter
ourselves that we have advanced infinitely beyond the Jews in
knowledge, and in that largeness of mind which acknowledges
goodness wherever it exists; we are only like them outwardly.
As the Jew of our Lord's day could not go back to the ceremonious courtesy of the patriarchal times; so, neither can we go
back to the formal civility of our ancestors. It is a question
of manner, not of spirit.
But who is to separate the two?  Mlore especially, if respect of manner is the natural tribute due to superiority of
position, how can we say with any truth that we preserve the
spirit of respect, when we refuse to acknowledge by outward
signs the existence of such superiority?
In this so-called age of reason, the amount of unreason
which we meet with is certainly very singular. Respect, we
must all own, can only be testified by outward signs.  It is
very well to say we feel it, but if we do not show it, it is as if
it did not exist. And the perception of relative position is
recognized by every one to be the test of good breeding.  A
duchess who thrusts herself uninvited into the presence 6f her
St. John viii.  8-59.
ili-o 
RESPECT.
Sovereign is felt to be vulgar and ill-bred.  No elegance of
manner, or of dress, can atone for the ignorance of relative
position which such an act indicates; whilst, on the other
hand, the peasant girl who pays the respect to the duchess
which her superiority of station demands, is well-bred-her
cotton dress and her homely language notwithstanding.  The
rule holds good even in reverse cases. The prince who for gets that he is a prince, and allows the person with whom he
associates to take liberties with him, may be liked for his good nature, but will be considered wanting in perfect gentlemanly
feeling. There is no real courtesy in ignoring differences of
relative position, because all well-bred persons are desirous of
recognizing them; and a lady who refuses to accept the pre cedence which her rank gives her, makes us just as uncomfort able as one who claims it when it does not belong to her.
And so far almost all persons perhaps will agree in allowing
that the recognition of relative position is of importance in
education; but how few are there who trouble themselves to
reason further, so as to perceive that this recognition is a great
moral safeguard, a check upon presumption and conceit on the
one hand, and a support to rightful self-confidence, and even
to the strict performance of duty, on the other.
Society is composed of innumerable wheels, all working
simultaneously, but stopped, when necessary, by cogs. Relative position is one of these cogs. Without it, youthful energy,
natural talent, physical power-all great engines of movement
and progress-would rush on, showing no consideration for
other equally important engines, and by going beyond their
mark, would, in the end, mar the very work for which they
were intended.
It is not dificult, for instance, to imagine the confusion
which would ensue if every person who had made a discovery, or formed a scheme likely to be beneficial to society, was
able to discuss and thrust it forward at all seasons and in all
society; if he might treat his superiors as his equIals, show no
deference to their opinions, and insist upon being attended to
171 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
without consideration for other subjects which might have a
claim upon public attention.
A never-ending conflict, a perpetual jar would be the result
of such a power; and yet the individual proposing the scheme
might have right on his side; that is to say, he might really
be able to benefit society, and be perfectly sincere in his wish
to do so. People often think it very hard when they find ob
stacles put in their way by etiquettes, formalities, proprieties;
and no doubt these may be carried to an absurd extent, but the
schemes which they have so much at heart would find many
more obstacles without them; for, in fact, it is the very existence of these same rules and proprieties which enables any of
us to carry out any scheme. And for this reason. The work
of the world must be carried on by a variety of agents. No
man can do everything that is required for his business or his
profession himself: he must trust, in a great degree, to the
actions of others. But it is impossible for him to be assured
of the fitness of the person he is compelled to employ; on the
contrary, he is continually obliged to make use of those whom
he knows to be decidedly unfit. If a thorough mental and
moral examination could be made of all persons employed in
the army, the navy, in lawyers' offices, in domestic service, in
any situation, indeed, involving responsibility, and only those
were chosen who were found to be fully competent for the
duties they were called upon to undertake, in all probability
not more than one-tenth of the persons now usefully employed
would remain in their present places. But how is it that the
work of life is carried on by such inadequate instruments? It
is owing in a very great degree to the recognition of relative
position. Persons who would naturally be troublesome, selfsufficient, blundering, are kept in their proper  place, and
taught to perform their part rightly, by the check which is
put upon them by the necessity of acknowledging differences of
position. Others, on the contrary, who are timid, ignorant,
self-distrustful, who have no confidence in their own judgment,
and would be afraid to decide the questions which come before
172 
RESPECT.
them if left to themselves, yet learn unconsciously what they
are to do, and how they are to behave, by the support and
guidance afforded through the medium of the same social dis tinctions. Differences of station, whether arising from birth,
civil authority, age, talent, or from whatever cause, are, in
fact, constantly educating and training us, so that we  may
work harmoniously tegether, not interfering with or encroach ing upon each other's privileges. They are the landmarks of
society, and if we remove them, society will become a chaos.
So very true all this is. Why should any one take the
trouble to repeat it?
Simply because the one place in which this necessary train ing for social life can be most easily and effectually carried on,
is the one place where it is most generally neglected.
God has in His Wisdom cast every man's life into certain
different moulds, one mould being intended to fit into the other,
like the Indian boxes which we sometimes meet with, each dis tinct in itself, yet all, together, forming one whole. Home is the
innermost of these moulds; it is intended to fit into the mould
of social life, and this again is to fit into the mould of national
or political life. And for the furtherance of this intention, our
home life is so constituted, that in it we may, as children,
practise on a small scale those duties which will enable us
rightly to act our part, when we are called to enter upon a
larger sphere. There is absolute superiority in the parents, a
secondary superiority in other relations-in governesses or tutors, or in elder brothers and sisters; and a superiority apart
from position and education, arising from delegated authority,
and from age, in nurses and servants. And in each of these
cases, external signs of respect are naturally due, modified according to the relative position of the parties claiming them.
But do we find upon examination that home life is really
thus made use of as a school in which children may be taught
the duty and the importance of recognizing relative position?
The idea that respect is due to servants, because of their
superiority in age, will probably seem exaggerated; yet St.
173
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
Paul places a child only on a level with a servant, for he says:
" Now, I say, That the heir, as long as he is a child, differeth
nothing from a servant, though he be lord of all." 1
The courtesy, therefore, of equality at least, is the servant's
due.  But how do we find that children are allowed to speak
to servants?  The embryo masters and mistresses issue their
commands in a tone of authority, which is as destructive to
goodwill as it is offensive to Christian feeling; and this want
of respect shown to inferiors is carried upwards through all the
relations of life, till it reaches the parents. Or rather it begins
with the parents, and then descends. It is their training which
gives the first lessons in the impertinence and insolence that
society so severely punishes. How few are there who would
not think it a severe suggestion, that their children ought never
to be allowed to go in or out of a room before them, or sit when
they themselves are standing, or interrupt them when they are
speaking! How many would be surprised if they were told
that they were doing their children a moral injury, by allowing
them to ring the bell when they choose, to sit in a lounging attitude, and occupy the most comfortable seat in the room, to
appear at the dinner table late without an apology, to help
themselves to whatever they like, without thought for their
elders. And yet all these things must be attended to, if the
children are ever to be fitted for social life. They must then
recognize that age and station have claims upon thleir selfrestraint; and if they do not, society-by no means as lenient
as a mother-will taboo them. Or again, in regard to that
most delicate, and yet most intangible test of respect-the tone
of the voice —will not the generality of mothers think it a very
severe doctrine, that from the earliest infancy, a child should
be gently checked when it gives way to an off-hand tone of
equality, even though there may be no actual rudeness?  It
was said by a most wise mother, "Whatever liberties you
take with your brothers and sisters, my dear, you wilf'take
none with me; " and her son, at forty years of age, paid her
Gal. iv. 1.
174 
RESPECT.
the same tender deference which he had learnt when he was a
boy of fourteen. This question of voice and manner has be come infinitely important to us now, when we have thrown off
the ceremonious politeness of our grandfathers and grand mothers, in conversation, and have scarcely any other outward
mode of showing our respect.  And we are all keenly alive to
it. We shrink from what is called the free and easy tone of
a colony; we dislike going into a shop where we know that
we shall be addressed familiarly; we are provoked with our
servants when they answer us shortly; we draw back from a
new acquaintance who talks to us in the tone of an old friend.
The only case in which we ignore it is with children. They
may speak rudely, interrupt incessantly, repeat our words, put
themselves in our way, disturb our occupations, and we never
think of checking them. And having thus educated them in
disrespect in their homes, we are surprised to find that when
they enter society, or are placed in situations of responsibility,
they make themselves disagreeable, and have so little perception of the deference due to station and age, that they mar
their really good intentions by acting without tact; and do
what they have to do so awkwardly, that they often give
offence where they most desire to please, and are perhaps at
last pronounced unfit for their post by the very persons who
were most desirous to become their friends.
Good-nature and want of tact are continually found in the
same character, and wve may sometimes have been pained with
ourselves for being so annoyed with the latter, as to be inclined
to overlook the former. But we really are not much to blame
in this case. Want of tact is, generally speaking, as much a
moral fault as the absence of good-nature. It is almost always coupled with a forgetfulness of the claims or the restraints arising from relative position. To thrust kindnesses
upon strangers, without any apology for the liberty, may be
very good-natured, but it shows great want of tact, because it
disregards the fact that society does not permit such familiarity.   That offensive kind of good-nature, which exhibits
175 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
itself under the form of patronage, is of the same character.
The person offering it may have the kindest intentions, but by
taking it for granted that some superiority of position sets him
at liberty to overlook the ordinary etiquettes of society, he
shows a want of tact which neutralizes his goodwill, and creates a cause of offence.
We are all more or less inclined to spoil very young children in this special point of education, the knowledge of relative position. It amuses us so much to see the little creatures
aping the manners of their elders, that we cannot bring ourselves to correct them.   They are our playthings, and we
think it hard that we may not amuse ourselves with them.
And so the little fellow of four years old is brought forward
to talk and repeat verses, and thrust himself upon the attention
of visitors, till he becomes, first, the forward schoolboy, and
then the "intolerably disagreeable man; " and the sweet little
girl is allowed to chatter to gentlemen, who talk about her
bright eyes and her glossy curls, and beg her to kiss them, till
she becomes the vain, self-conscious, affected girl, and ultimately ends in'i that odious flirt" whom  no sensible man
would venture to marry.
Alas! for human selfishness!
" Manners makyth man." 1  Not manner-not mere external polish-but the recognition, by the intellect and the
heart, of those duties arising from relative position, which are
as much moral obligations as the laws that enforce honesty
and purity.
But this outward deference and respect, when insisted upon
by parents, is supposed to stand in the way of the free play of
natural affection.   Children, it is thought, will not love their
parents unless they are allowed to be what is called perfectly
free with them; or, in other words, unless they are allowed to
be rude to them.
If this be so, then the appointments of God in His government of the world are contradictory to each other; for, un               The Winchester and New College motto.
176 
RESPECT.
questionably, there does exist a strong natural affection be tween parents and children, and unquestionably, also, there
does exist a very stringent obligation to pay outward respect
to elders and superiors. If the former is the dictate of nature,
so is the latter of reason; for, as Bishop Butler remarks,
though in reference to another subject, " the relations being
known, the obligations to such (reverence) are obligations of
reason, arising out of those relations themselves." 1 The idea
that absolute ease, by which is understood absolute familiarity,
is essential to the perfection of love, is, in fact, one of those de lusions by which men are led astray, because they prefer to
listen to the voice of their own low and selfish inclinations,
rather than to that of reason and experience. Reverence in volves restraint; restraint is, in our present conditions disa greeable to us; therefore we persuade oursell es that it is in consistent with our highest happiness, which is to be found in
perfect love.
But let us look into the truth of this assertion. What is
love?  Where, in its highest degree, is it to be found?  There
is an answer which will rise at once to our lips: He alone who
is Omniscient knows whether it comes also from our hearts.
The love of God is the most perfect form of love.
But the feeling of love, when directed towards God, is, it
will be said, something totally distinct from the same feeling
when directed towards man.
That is strange!  There is a History which we al know.
It tells of One who, owning Himself to be God, yet dwelt
among men, recognizing all the relationships and sympathies
of man;-who was obedient to His parents; tender in His
care for His mother; who wept at the grave of His dead
firiend; who suffered His most cherished disciple to lean upon
His breast; who looked forward to the time of reunion and of
mutual participation in future glory, as one of the bright hopes
which was to strengthen Him in His hour of agony.
What was the feeling awakened towards Him? He was
Butler's Analogy, Part II., chap. i.
17,T 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
God. Was He loved with a love totally distinct from the love
o    f     man?     Or was that love the purest, highest, noblest, most
satisfying,       most enduring of all affections-a love which, like
the Nature of Him to whom it was addressed, did not cease to
b    e      human because it was Divine, but blending the sense of
perfect sympathy and comprehension with the most exalted
reverence, suffered the heart to pour itself forth without check;
and to repose, even in the consciousness of its infirmity, knowing that
"The Lord who dwells on hi,gh
Knows all, yet loves us better than He knows "?
Indeed, indeed, we do ourselves a grievous wrong when we
acquiesce in the assertion that Divine and human love are not
only different in degree, but different in kind. There is no
such essential distinction between the love which we feel for
our fellow creatures, and that which we are permitted to offer
to our Redeemer, as will admit of our giving our whole hearts
in one form to a human friend, and in the other form to God.
There is but one highest, one all. And if reverence is an inseparable element in the perfection of Divine love; then must
respect, which is only a lower form of reverence, be an essential element in the perfection of human love.
Love without respect, what is it? We must turn to the
miserable history of man's selfishness and degradation for the
answer. What sins, what cruelties, what heart-sickening
wretchedness, what aberrations of- reason, may not be laid to
the charge of love, under all its forms, when existing (if, indeed, it can truly be said to exist,-if the feeling which claims
the name is not rather some mockery and shadow of love)
apart from respect!
Love with respect, who may tell its comfort and its rest?
As we journey through life, and learn by bitter experience to
look for weakness and want of judgment, if not for openul allowed faults, even in the wisest and best of men, we must at
times long to return to those blissful days of ignorance, when
all persons older than ourselves were supposed to be actuated
178 
RESPECT.
by right motives, and to be guided by sound discretion. Even
now we lingffer fondly on the characters of those we love; we
speak of their virtues, their struggles, their aims; but there is
something wanting even in our praise. We admire them less
for what they are than for what they strive to be, and our
strongest feeling cannot expend itself upon them. We love
them most fondly, most truly, and constantly, but there is a
power of love within us which can never be satisfied by any
human affection, because the one element of complete rever ence is wanting, and without it love can never be perfect.
But it was not so in youth. Then we had had no disap pointments; our respect was without misgiving, without alloy;
and the love we felt was of the nature of that full confiding
affection which must be the joy of the angels in Heaven, and
which we pray, hereafter, to be permitted to share.
This highest form of human love is, however, inseparable
from respect of manner. God has given to every human being
-to the child as well as to the man-an instinctive perception
of the claims of relative position; this perception bringing
with it the consciousness of moral obligation.  The child cannot escape from it. It knows that it ought not to be disre
spectful to its parent, just as naturally as it knows that it ought
not to steal, or to commit murder; though, unfortunately, this
particular form of moral consciousness is, in too many cases,
weakened by the education received in infancy. Still, the
knowledge remains: it is never entirely eradicated; and when
the child, as it grows up, sees and feels that it is not compelled
to acknowledge this relation, in its outward behaviour, its respect for its parent is lessened; and, as an unavoidable consequence, its love is lessened also. And yet more-there is in
the very act of outward respect, something which, except where
it is an actual mockery, engenders the inward feeling;-this
feeling being, indeed, not the homage due to moral worth, but
that which belongs to relative position; and which, as it has
before been said, is a natural and moral claim. The " divinity that doth hedge a king," is not only evidenced to the senses
179 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
but the consciousness of it is increased, by the pomp and
pageantry which surround him. And so, the respect which
children pay to their parents, not only marks their inward
feeling, but actually strengthens it.
This is seen more clearly as years go on. Fathers and sons,
mothers and daughters, must by degrees reach an equal level
as regards moral and intellectual wealth and power. The sons
and daughters may, indeed, surpass, and in fact they very often
do surpass, their parents in these respects; and, moreover, rise
above them in social position. But the superiority of nature
can be affected by no changes. The father is the father still,
the mother is the mother; and the child who has been taught
to be respectful to his parents in infancy, will continue to be
so, though he may have risen to be the titled general, or the
world-famous philosopher, and they may have remained in
their original obscurity.
It can be no external homage which is given in such a
case, for society does not require it. The nobleman or the philosopher may hold his place and practically ignore his parents,
and the world will thiink little the less of him. But God's
laws, God's ordinances, are immutable.   He has said, " Honour thy father and thy mother." He has instituted a natural
connection between the relationship and the respect which He
commands; and this connection can never cease to be felt by
any person who, from infancy, has been taught to acknowledge
it.  Love may change with circumstances, because the foundations upon which it is based may change; but the respect consequent upon the habitual recognition of natural superiority
of position, must remain as long as the relation itself remains;
and being thus unchangeable, it tends to keep alive, to nourish
and strengthen, the feeling of love. The man who might
almost have forgotten, or at least ceased to regard, his father,
if he had been allowed to treat him with unseemly familiarity,
is compelled by the very force of habit to consider his opipion
of importance, when he has always been accustomed to own that
his father stands above him.  The young girl who, surrounded
180 
RESPECT.
by friends of her own age, and carried away by the whirl of
gaiety, might chalk out her own career without consideration
for her mother's feelings, turns instinctively to that mother for
approbation, and cannot be satisfied without it, when she has
been taught from infancy to show her deference.
All forms-forms of respect as well as of religion-are
indeed the moulds into which feeling is to be poured.   The
feeling may, for a time, exist apart from the form; the form
may, for a time, exist where there is no feeling.   But the voice
of nature, and the teaching of God in revelation, alike teach
us that, in such cases, the existence both of form and spirit
will be short-lived and imperfect. Man's soul and his body
may be separated, and the soul may live still, looking forward
to the day of resurrection and reunion. But human feelings
know no such resurrection, and the spirit apart from the form
will fade and die.  " What God hath joined together, let no
man put asunder."
181 
CHAPTER XV.
WE have been hitherto considering the duties of parents
towards their children. The duty of the child towards its
parent has been summed up in the virtues of obedience and
respect. But children have many other duties towards many
other persons, and no education can be perfect which does not
teach them to fulfil those duties.  How, then, are these lessons
to be enforced?
Now, it might naturally be supposed that, in treating a
subject of this kind, we should begin with the consideration of
that duty to God, as revealed to us in the Bible, which includes
all forms and degrees of duty to man; but if we examine the
training of God given by nature, we  shall probably be led to
own that such teaching is not strictly according to His appointment.
The little child of a year and a half old who disobeys its
mother, can perfectly comprehend that it has done wrong, but
cannot possibly understand the scheme of salvation. Obedience, therefore, must be taught, before definite religious
truths can be entered upon. In nature, as well as in grace,
the Law must precede the Gospel. This does not by any
means imply that instruction in religion must not accompany
elementary moral teaching, for without it moral teaching will
ultimately fail of its object; but it does mean that the priniary
ideas of morality are stamped by nature upon the child's mind,
and are absolutely perfect at once, whilst the primary ideas of
I.
i
TRUTH. 
TRUTH.
revealed religion are acquired as the mind develops. No
amount of teaching can make the idea of Truth more clear to
a child's intellect than it is by nature; but Faith is a complex
idea, which can only be received and comprehended by de grees; and therefore, to wait till the child can understand and
exercise Faith before we teach it the obligation of Truth, is to
put aside God's system of education, and to adopt one of our
own.  And upon further consideration, we shall find also that
education, so far as it is put in man's power, has no means of
directly enforcing any of those virtues which belong essentially
to revealed religion. We may advise, and warn, and encour age, and punish; but no counsel and no admonition can produce in the child's mind the feelings of faith and love. Those
deep principles of human action lie hidden from us.   God
alone can set them in motion; though He devolves upon us
the teaching of the great truths, such as " His love toward us
in Christ Jesus," which arc calculated to arouse them. Neither can we by any direct effort make a child humble-minded
or unselfish-because outward actions, apart from the spirit in
which they are performed, do not constitute humility and unselfishness; and it is only over the outward act that we have
any immediate control. We may, for instance, compel a child
to take an inferior position, or, for the benefit of others, to
make a sacrifice of some cherished wish; but if there is a
proud feeling in the one case, or a grudging irritation in the
other, the actions themselves cease to be either humble or unselfish. It is true, indeed, that we are called upon constantly
to enforce such outward acts, apart from the inward spirit, because, if we fail to do so, the sinful habit of mind will be
strengthened by indulgence in it; but the good we do can be
only negative, and the child will never be really humble and
unselfish, until the principles of those graces are, through God's
mercy, implanted in its heart.   There are, however, some
moral actions, which have, as it were, an independent existence, distinct from the spirit which actuates them, and over
these we may in education exert a direct power. Such are
183 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
acts of obedience, truth, and justice. Obedience cannot be
disobedience. Truth cannot be a lie. A just action cannot
be unjust. This is evident upon the slightest consideration.
If, for instance, we could suppose any individual to be absolutely just in all his actions, and absolutely true in word and
deed during the whole course of his life; it would be a contradiction to say that the actions were not just and true, because
the spirit in which they were performed was not that of justice
and truth.  The bad motive, or feeling, could not make the
just act unjust, or the truth which was spoken falsehood.
The actions in themselves would be good, though the man
who committed them might be bad; and vice versd-a lie is a
lie, though spoken to save a man's life; and injustice is injustice, though committed from a wish to do a kindness.
It is in these cases that we are permitted, when judging of
an act in itself undoubtedly wrong, to separate in a measure
the offender from the offence; to condemn the latter, whilst,
according to circumstances, we deal, it may be, leniently with
the former.
And it is because of this peculiar character of the three
virtues just mentioned that they must be considered first in
treating of education. We have no power of directly dealing
with a child's mind, and if we make the attempt we shall probably only do mischief.  Hle alone who created man in His own
Image can restore that Image when it is defaced. But the
particular virtues which have been mentioned, having, what
has been called, an independent existence, may be enforced
less cautiously, since we may be sure that the practice of the
outward act is good, whatever may be the condition of the
heart. Of obedience we have already spoken; and justice, so
far as it can be practised by children, is so inseparably connected with truth, that in cherishing the one we necessarily
cherish the other.  A  perfectly true mind must be a perfectly
just mind. What. then, is the best method we may adopt in
order to make a child truthful?  Before entering upon this
question, it will be necessary to examine more particularly
into the nature of truth.
184 
TRlUTH.
Now, it is often asserted that some persons are truthful,
others untruthful, by nature; but it may be doubted whether
this is a true statement of the case. The sense of the moral
obligation of truth is, we know, in certain individuals so strong
that the least suspicion of untruthfulness makes them wretched;
and if ever under the influence of strong temptation led into a
falsehood, they are miserable till they have confessed it. Their
word may always be relied upon; they dislike exaggeration;
they see very quickly through pretence; they are inclined to
look even with uncharitable scorn upon others who are not
like themselves blest with the love of truth. Such characters,
though not always very agreeable, are by far the most satis factory to deal with. Whatever may be their natural faults,
this truthfulness may always be made use of to correct them.
They will, in fact, by God's grace, correct themselves, for
when the love of truth exists very strongly, there is as
earnest a desire to avoid self-deception as any other kind
of deception.
But because there are some in whom the love of truth is
strongly developed, it by no means follows that there may or
can be others who have a natural love of falsehood. On the
contrary, it seems, when we look into the question, that-love
of truth is part of that original nature which we derived from
God; and which, though it may be marred and distorted,
cannot be obliterated in any human being. The most false
man that lives will disapprove of falsehood in others; and all
men, as a general rule, will speak truth when they have no
motive for speaking untruth. If we could suppose any man to
have a natural love of falsehood, for its own sake, he must
have lost all sense of moral fitness, of the relation of one act to
another. He would be unable to live with his fellow-creatures,
for his theory and his practice would be totally opposed to
theirs. What they might think right, he would endeavour to
think wrong; what they might know to be a truth, he would
strive to disbelieve. And even if such a case could be supposed, yet the very fact of its being an effort to him thus to
185 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
differ from other men, would be a proof that the sense of truth
still lingered in his heart.  If it were no effort to him, then he
would be self-deceived.   He might believe a falsehood, for we
all more or less believe falsehoods, but he himself might still
retain the love of truth. The idolater who bows down before
his wooden god, believes a falsehood; but it is not a necessary
consequence that he himself should be untruthful, or have pleasure in untruthfulness. AIen take great delight in fiction, but
it is only whilst it confesses itself to be fiction, and therefore
ceases to be an untruth. When a book professes to be true,
and then is discovered to be fiction, the interest ceases, or at
least is only kept up by the truth which it still retains; that is
to say, the accordance between what is described, and what we
feel must under similar circumstances have taken place. De
Foe's " History of the Plague" is a striking exemplification
of this statement. Every one who reads it, believing it to be
what it professes to be-the statement of an eyewitness of the
scenes recorded-must experience a diminution of interest
when told that it is not so. But after a while the interest
will in a great degree be revived, because the description of
what must have happened is seen to be so wonderfully accurate. It is the sense of truth which even in this case gives the
pleasure.  So it is again with historical novels; and even in
works of fiction which lie quite beyond the domain of our
present senses, and our present experience-fairy tales, for instance-the appeal to our interest still lies in the perception of
truth.   Fairies are always represented as human  in their
passions and their tastes, and because they are thus, as the
saying is, " true to nature," we like to follow them in their
disguise, and are amused instead of shocked at the new physical powers attributed to them.
And if we look into the Bible we shall find that this innate
perception of and desire for truth is the basis of all the appeals
made to man's obedience, and all the commands laid down for
his guidance. The Lord is the God of truth;1 it is one of
Jer. x. lO0.
186 
TRUTH.
His attributes.   His counsels of old are faithfulness and
truth.' His desire for man is, that he should have truth
in his inward parts. 2  The promise given to the Jews was
that the lip of truth should be established for ever,3 and it
would seem that the complaints made of their falsehood are
more numerous than the injunctions given them to observe
truth, because the very moral nature which God had bestowed
upon them, and the very necessities of their earthlvy existence,
enjoined truth upon them with a power which nothing but
madness or blindness could fail to recognize. To prove from
the Bible that truth is considered by God the foundation of
morality would, indeed, be simply to quote passages from the
opening Book of Genesis, to the closing Book of St. John's
Revelation.
And yet it may be said that there are, in the Bible, instances of deceit and falsehood upon which no censure is passed. Is
it possible that God can have approved of them?
In answer to this, it must be remembered that the Bible
is, in the main, a history of facts. Jacob deceived his father:
that is a fact. The Bible does not profess to tell us what Jacob ought to have done, but what he did. And God did not
interfere to punish the patriarch by any supernatural punishment, any more than He interferes to punish us. He left him
to the natural course of His moral government, according to
which deceit and falsehood must bring suffering. No one can
carefully read the account of Jacob's subsequent life without
owning that the sorrowful confession wrung from him at the
close of his earthly pilgrimage, "Few and evil have the days
of the years of my life been,"4 may be traced back to the offence which caused him to incur his brother's wrath, and made
him an exile from his home for so large a portion of his life.
A few other instances there are of things done and said untruly, but in no one case were they commanded or praised by
God because of their untruth. Rahab, by uttering a falsehood,
1 Isaiah xxv. 1.
' Prov. xii. 19.
187
I
' Psa. li. 6.
1 Gen. xlvii. 9. 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
saved the lives of the spies sent by Joshua to view Jericho. In
the Epistle to the Hebrews she is mentioned approvingly, but
it is on account of her faith; and it must, moreover, be remembered that actions having their origin in the overpowering instinct to save life cannot be judged by ordinary rules.
They lead to questions of casuistry, which are most difficult
to determine, and cannot at all affect the general statement
that God in revelation, as in nature, requires "truth in the inward parts" as the groundwork of all goodness.
If we would yet more thoroughly be convinced of this, let
us consider, for one moment, not only the denunciations upon
those who are guilty of that most aggravated form of deceit
which consists in attempting to deceive God by honouring
Him with the lips while the heart is far from Him; but the
two cases which stand distinct from all others as instances of
falsehood told directly to God.
The name of Cain is handed down to us as that of the first
man who dared to answer his ]Iaker with a lie.  "The Lord
said unto Cain, Where is Abel thy brother?  And he said, I
know not: am I my brother's keeper?" 1  Cain was cursed
-for murder indeed, rather than for a lie; but it was the lie
which aggravated and intensified the murder, because it
showed that his was no heart in which repentance could be
awakened.    And  Cain's  punishment was  " greater than
he could bear."
That lie immediately followed man's fall. There was another lie of the same character,-told, that is, in direct defiance
of God's Omniscience,-which immediately followed  man's
Redemption. The story of Ananias and Sapphira inspires a
most salutary awe in a young mind, yet perhaps few at once
grasp the real intensity of the sin, or understand why it received such a fearful punishment.
The moral government of God in this world deals immediately and visibly with the relations between mair and
man.   Offences against our fellow creatures are punished,
1 Gen. iv. 9.
188
I 
TRUTH.
either directly or indirectly, by them. The punishment follows
the offence on the principle of cause and effect; and a lie told
to man is followed by the contempt of man. But offences
against God are not, as a general rule, thus punished. Ab sence of faith, or of reverence, or humility, cannot be brought
under human jurisdiction. A person may be guilty of such
sins, and the world will know nothing of them; or, if it does
know, it will not notice them. Unless blotted out for Christ's
sake, they are reserved for a more strict tribunal, a more im partial and a more awful Judge. But there is one offence
against God which men are compelled to notice,-perjury. If
this were overlooked, the sense of truth which keeps society
together and enables us to carry on our dealings with each
other would soon be obliterated.
The sin of Ananias and Sapphira was an aggravated offence of this character. The Apostles, visibly gifted with the
power of the Holy Ghost, were, even in the sight of their fellow
creatures, the representatives of God. The lie told to them,
was a lie told directly to God. It was an outrage upon one
of His essential attributes. The ordinary punishment of a lie
would, therefore, have been wholly inadequate to express its
guilt, and to vindicate the insulted majesty of the Almighty.
Death was its due penalty, and death was inflicted instantly;
as in like cases on record, when an appeal has been made to
God, and a lie has been spoken, death also has followed. Men
at once recognmize such a punishment as just, and why? Because truth is the very foundation stone of the attributes of
God, and to attempt to make Him the witness to falsehood, is
virtually to overlook the existence of that attribute, and thus
to deny His very Being.
Now, we have already seen that God has been pleased to
educate mankind in the recognition and practice of truth, by
the natural penalties which He has attached to falsehood. We
hare seen also that in certain cases He has interfered supernaturally in order to testify to the supreme majesty of truth.
But when we look into revelation we shall find that it is less
189 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
by the punishment of falsehood, than by the perpetual recall
to truth, that the overwhelming authority of the latter is enforced.
There is no distinction in this respect between the training
of Jews and Christians, for difference of mental condition
makes no difference in the perception of truth. The little
child understands what is meant by truth, as perfectly as the
great philosopher. What both alike need is to be taught its
imperative authority; and this, not because the human mind
would naturally fail to recognize that authority, but because,
being a fallen, a distorted nature, it allows itself to be blinded by
sophistry and self-interest. Truth is, in fact, in the Bible, the
standard to which everything is brought, the test by which it is
measured. The commands and the declarations of God are to
be obeyed and believed because they are truth. As the Psalmist
says: " Thy righteousness is an everlasting righteousness, and
Thy law is the truth. Thou art near, O Lord, and all Thy
commandments are truth." 1
And this will give us a very important suggestion with regard to the education of children. No amount of correction
or of warning will train a child in truthfulness, unless truth is
the recognized standard of morality amongst those with whom
it is brought up. We cannot deceive children upon this subject.  They know what is true just as well as we do; and so
far as we ourselves are untrue in word or deed, so far will the
children, who are to be guided, turn a deaf ear to our injunctions. The caution may appear unnecessary. Falsehood and
deceit are so universally despised, it would seem that no one
really guided by religious principles would be guilty of them.
Yet it is scarcely too much to assert, that to be perfectly true
is the most difficult task which a Christian can set before himself. It must be, if we only allow ourselves to think for one
moment. Perfect truth is one of God's attributes. Who then
can attain unto it?
And what is more-children are truer in their instincts and
Psalm cxix 142, 151.
190
I 
TRUTH.
feelings, and even in their words and actions, than their elders.
They  will, indeed, be guilty of more direct open offences
against truth; they will scruple less to tell direct lies; but
they do not understand the false reasonings, which tempt men,
even by the very keenness of their intellects, to deceive both
themselves and others. If we examine the mode in which the
Jews are addressed by Mloses, and by our Blessed Lord, we
shall see at once the advance made in sophistry, by a nation
who had passed from the stage of childhood to that of thought
and so-called civilization. The Israelites in the wilderness are
addressed as disobedient, obstinate, stiff-necked, faithless, but
we never hear of them as deceivers. They lived too immedi ately in the Presence, and before the Majesty of God, to ven ture to reason awvay His commands.  They might neglect their
parents, and dishonour them, but they would not then have
dared to do so, as they did in later times, under the pretence
that they were making an offering to God.  What says our
Blessed Lord to the Jews of His day? "Ye are of your
father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do....
When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own: for he is a
liar, and the father of it. And because I tell you the truth, ye
believe Me not."' And the prophecy which foretells the sins of
the latter days, especially warns us that " evil men and seducers
shall wax worse and worse, deceiving, and being deceived." 
It is a matter of very grave thought with us all. For, inasmuch as the professed aim of the men of this age is to search
after truth, so we may be sure that there will be very many
who seek for it in the ways of falsehood. Truth and error,
sincerity and deceit, walk side by side through the world.
Wherever the one is to be found, the other will quickly follow;
-error wearing the garb of truth-deceit arraying itself in
the mantle of sincerity. And how shall we distinguish between them?
Reality before God! His words taken in their natural
sense, and acted upon according to their plain meaning. -Re' St. John viii. 44, 45.           2 2 Tim. iii. 13.
191
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
ality with ourselves!  No tampering with secret faults; no
turning away the eye from a suspected sin. Reality with our
fellow creatures! No striving to appear, no wish even to be
thought what we are not; nothing done from form. or fashion,
or fear of giving offence. It is a hard, hard task, but we
may not, we dare not, put it aside. For our soul's sake-for
the sake of the Master whom we desire to serve-for the sake
of the children whom we would fain train up for His glorywe must be real. If we are, then will God lead us into all
truth. If we are not, the very lessons of honour and sincerity
which we give will rise up against us in condemnation; " our
children themselves being our judges."
This, then, is the first desideratum,-the imperative necessity for all those who desire to foster the sense of truth in the
young minds entrusted to them. As God is absolutely true
Himself, as He appeals to truth, as He insists upon it and enforces it, so in our measure must we be true; so must we insist and enforce truth. And when we have fully acknowledged this necessity, and asked God to enable us to act upon
it, we may then proceed to inquire what means may most
safely be adopted to check the tendency to deceit and untruthfulness which, from various causes, will more or less exhibit
itself in almost all children, at some period of their education.
The expression, -' from various causes," has been used advisedly, because, unless we remember that the perception and
the instinct of truth are imperishable in the human breast, we
shall be likely to make as grievous mistakes in correcting a
child who tells us a falsehood, as a physician does who treats
the symptoms of the disease for the disease itself. If the love
of truth abstractedly exists in every one, without exception,
then the child who tells falsehoods does so from some hidden
motive, or feeling; and, until we have discovered what this
hidden motive power is, we shall never cure the evil habit.
One very common source of untruthfulness in children is
want of moral courage. We will suppose that from this cause
a child tells us a falsehood. There are two ways in which we
may deal with the case.
192 
TRUTH.
We may say, "You have committed a great sin, and have
acted most dishonourably; I cannot again put confidence in
your word; I am extremely angry with you, and I shall punish
you severely." And the child will go from our presence, humbled and possibly repentant, but also extremely frightened;
and the next time she is required to exercise moral courage,
she will find it even more difficult than before, because her
fear of us is increased. In her alarm she will, perhaps, be
again tempted to lie, and the reproof and the punishment will
be yet sterner. The fear will become greater; the sin will be
repeated. The child will be gradually acquiring the character
of an habitual liar; and in all probability will be sent away
from home, to some person who it is hoped may exercise over
her an influence for good. But her character precedes her.
She enters upon her new sphere with the reputation of untruthfulness, and of course her word is distrusted. She knows
this, and her moral energies are weakened. She is depressed
and unhappy, and, as an inevitable result, naughty. Then she
is scolded, then frightened. Then she tells a falsehood to save
herself from punishment; and so it goes on. What is the hope
of strengthening the love of truth under such a system?
But suppose, having discovered, or even only suspecting,
that the falsehood is the result of moral cowardice, we take a
different course; suppose we speak very gravely-we cannot
speak too gravely-of the sin of lying; suppose we show how it
aggravates all other sins-how it tends to destroy confidence,
and how heinous it is in God's sight; and then, instead of saying, " I am  extremely angry," say, " I am extremely pained;
I must punish the offence more than I should any others because it is in itself so grievous-and you may be sure that I
always shall punish it; therefore, if you wish to avoid punishment you must be perfectly open and true. Confess what you
have done that is wrong, and you will find me always ready to
forgive, and help you to do better: try to hide it by a falsehood, and I shall be obliged to punish you double. And'ow,
having given you this warning, I feel confident that the offence
9
193
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
will not he repeated, and I shall trust to your word, because I
do not think you will pain me by trying to deceive me a second
time."
There will be humiliation, and probably repentance, in this
case as in the former; but the child's feelings will he softened
and hopeful. There may be punishment to bear, but her mind
will acquiesce in it as just. Having learnt what it was which
tempted her to offend, she will be the better able to guard
against it. And if, whenever occasion offers, she is encouraged
and assisted to speak truth, whatever may be the consequence,
she will by degrees find her moral courage strengthened; whilst
the dread of a lie will become so keen, that at length it will be
a greater effort to tell a falsehood and escape punishment, than
to speak truth and bear it.
For it may be remarked that pain is by the very instinct of
nature attached to falsehood. A child may give way to pride,
vanity, passion, selfishness, injustice, and may be sorry and
ashamed of the sin when it is pointed out; but there is no such
instinctive perception of guilt as there is in the case of falsehood.
Some children, indeed, have this perception in a more marked
degree than others; but all have it more or less; and it is by
working upon it that we may hope so to strengthen the love of
truth, as to make it an absolute necessity of the child's nature
both to speak and act truly under all circumstances.
And when this necessity is created, we shall have paved
the way for another most important phase of truth-that of
seeing and owning it. Moral cowardice, for the most part,
takes one form in childhood, another in mature age. A child
knows what is true, but is afraid to say it. The grown-up
man fears what is true, and is afraid to see it. Volumes might
be written on the consequences of this weakness-volumes full
of the history of personal self-deceit, family distrust, and that
unhappy expediency, which, ultimately, bring ruin. The world
calls these things by harsh names, because it suffers by them.
It may be well that it should do so; for, if it looked upon
them leniently, society could not long hold together.  But God,
194
I
9 
TRUTIIH.
we may hope and believe, judges them more mercifully, and
sees in them, not wilful, deliberate sin, but the infirmity of
moral cowardice. Only, as the children whom we educate
must live in the world, and be judged and punished by it,
before they receive their sentence from God;  it will be a
work of charity in us to endeavour to save them from that
which may, one day, prove so terrible a snare.
Never let us be afraid to tell children the truth. This is
the general rule; the exceptions can be but few. If they are
to take medicine, let them know that it is medicine. If they
are to suffer pain, say so. If they are to be deprived of some
anticipated pleasure, do not let them delude themselves, up to
the last moment, by expecting it.  And, if sorrow is coming
upon the family-illness, poverty, separation-do not let us attempt to dress up the trial in any false garb. Own it to be
what it is; and then teach those who are to bear it to encoun ter it with the strength which God will give. We must all
have experienced, more or less, the confidence-the sense of
power and resolution-which results from having looked an
evil bravely in the face; having dared it, as it were, to its
worst. That done, every slight alleviation is a real gain. We
may not disturb ourselves about a trial which, in the Providence of God, may be prevented; but, having reason to expect
it, we may calmly prepare ourselves to meet it, and leave the
future in God's Hands. This courage of truthfulness in those
who have the care of children, operates most beneficially in
the way of example, besides giving the young mind rest.
Young people are so quick in perceiving when something
is amiss, that they are scarcely ever to be deceived upon
this point, though their imaginations will continually outrun
reality. It is possible to grow up, even from childhood, with
a sense of insecurity, in the midst of apparent peace and prosperity; and, with this feeling, there must always be somewhat
of distrust of those who try to throw a veil over the truth.
There can be no rest with such a feeling. If the child has any
force of character, there will be a determined search till truth
195 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
is discovered and faced; if not, example will do its fatal work,
and the parent, who deceived himself, will unconsciously educate his child upon the same principle; till the heirloom of
moral cowardice, handed down from generation to generation,
has brought the punishment which must inevitably be its consequence; and then the confession is made-alas! too late" If I had but been told the truth, and taught to face it in
childhood, the whole course of my life would have been different. Now I have sown delusion, and reaped disappointment.
Then, I should have worked my way, in the face of difficulties,
and, in the end, have conquered."
People little think of all this, when they bring up their
children with the one idea of saving them pain and making
life happy.   They say,-and that rightly,-that childhood
and youth are the seasons for enjoyment; that trouble will
come soon enough; that it is wrong to forecast evils ourselves. Most true-most worthy of attention; only, if things
are based on a falsity, they will, ultimately, bring sorrow.
Once give a young person, or even a child, the consciousness
of having been wilfully misled, taught to build upon an unreal
foundation, to expect what there was no reason to expect, and
enjoyment is at an end. By one stroke, the charms of a home
of happiness become the mere trickery of the scene painter;
and the friends who made its delight, are the actors, who
strangely represent reality, but have, in themselves, no affinity
with the characters they portray. To give pain, to bear pain,
to see painful facts, to look at painful sights, to put painful
truths into plain words, are lessons which, if we do not learn
in childhood from our parents and friends, God will inevitably
teach us by the discipline of life.
They need but two cautions, though these are very needful. One is, not to confound the necessity of truth with coldness, or want of sympathy, or harsh judgment; and the other,
to guard it from exaggeration. 
The most painful things may be said and borne well if
softened by kindness. We may not hesitate to disappoint a
196
I
I 
TRUTIt.
child, or to speak of a trial which must be borne, but we must
at the same time express our sorrow for the suffering we are
inflicting.
And we must not confound truth with the exaggerations
of temper, and suppose that we are giving needful warning or
reproof when we are, in fact, merely giving way to our own
hasty feelings.  Faults and failings must be called by right
names, but these may not always be such as we choose to apply to them. A child makes a mistake, and says unintentionally what is not true.  Certainly, an untruth is a falsehood,
and a person who tells a falsehood is a liar. But to call the
child a liar is an exaggeration of terms which, if the matter
were less grave, would border on the ludicrous. The reason
of this is that "liar," in the sense in which it is generally used,
implies the intention as well as the act of lying. We choose
to separate the two, and therefore, though literally true in our
statement, we are actually untrue.  No one has a right to affix
to words a meaning which is not generally accepted, any more
than he has a right to call a., b,-or b, c,-and then to be angry
because his friends cannot understand him when he attempts to
talk.
Wilful exaggerations of this character are most mischievous in the education of children. They are discovered at once,
and resented as injustice, and then there is no hope of repentance and amendment.
But there are many other temptations besides moral covwardice which lead, in one form or another, to the violation of
truth.
A vast number of persons are untruthful from vanity.
They like to say things which will attract attention; they are
fond of making themselves heroes and heroines. They dress
up the world in which they live in a fancy dress, and try to
see both others and themselves in a point of view which will
create interest.  So it is that, instead of repeating a statement
simply, as it is made, they think it no harm to put "a hat OD
its head, and a stick in its hand," and send it into the world in
197
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
a more attractive garb. Such persons will tell falsehoods, and
persist in them with what appears the most deliberate effrontery, but they are not quite as wilfully untruthful as they seem
to be. They half believe what they say. The fact of having
said it gives it a kind of reality; and then they are obliged to
defend themselves, and to repeat it, and that strengthens their
belief, until at length they do quite think that it is true. And
so they tell lies in perfect good faith, and are scarcely at all
confounded when the truth and the statement are put side by
side, and shown to be inconsistent with each other.  " They
do not know how it is," they say, " but certainly they heard
it. The person who told them may have been mistaken. It is
strange how apt we all are to make mistakes.   But certainly
they heard it."
Arid some cases there are in which there is no such actual
blindness; cases in which some personal feeling has led to exagg,eration-to a distortion of words, a wilful misconception
of meaning. Pride and temper are the incentives to falsehood;
and even when the unitruth is plainly brought home to the
guilty person, pride and temper will frequently cause a persistence in it, even to absurdity. So, again, little meannesses,
and petty jealousies, will lead to lies, and when they are discovered, the same spirit will tempt to petty evasions, by
which the meaning of what has been asserted may be altered and evaded, and thus the shame of having been untrue
escaped.
Prejudice is another, and perhaps the most fruitful of all
incentives to falsehood; but it is the sin of mature years rather
than of childhood. Grown-up persons tell lies from prejudice,
just as children do from want of moral courage. They attribute motives, and the very instant they do this the probability
is that they will assert what is not true. But children also
have the tendency; we may hear them say, they are sure such
a person did or said so and so, because he or she liked o; disliked, or felt, or wished something which it is impossible the
child should know anything about.
198
I
i 
TRUTtH.
And so also envy and revenge will lead to falsehood, and
such instances, though they are more rare, are more flagrantly
sinful; but in all these cases-setting aside the absence of
moral courage-we shall find the sin of untruthfulness more
strongly developed in grown-up persons than in children.
Vanity, pride, temper, meanness, prejudice, when they exist unchecked in the human heart, are stronger at thirty than
at thirteen; and the falsehoods which proceed from them are
therefore more glaring. Those which arise from the absence
of moral courage would be more glaring also, if it were not
that the stern discipline of the world converts the very weakness of man's nature into a source of strength; and the contempt which is poured upon untruthfulness makes him afraid
to tell a lie.
Now, in order to guard against these manifold temptations
to falsehood, it will be necessary always to bear in mind the
guilt which attaches to the offence itself, apart from the motive
which gave rise to it.  We  must, indeed, look narrowly into
those motives, so that-the temptation may be avoided for the
future; and we must be just, as well as severe, in our judgment, and not pass the same sentence of condemnation on the
child who tells a falsehood from fear, as on one who commits
the same offence from envy or spite. But a lie is a lie still;
and that which must be impressed upon the child is, that it is
a sin unlike almost all other sins, inasmuch as it has a guilt of
its own, apart from the motive which led to it, and therefore is
to be abhorred, and consequently punished, for its own sake.
We may feel very sorry for the timid child who has been led
into an untruth; we may think and speak leniently of the
proud child who could not bring herself to make a true confession; but —-we are not punishing timidity or pride, but a lie,
and the punishment of the offence must be proportionably severe, even whilst we show the child that we can fully understand and make allowance for the feelings which led to it.
Perhaps the strongest weapon to be used against untruthfulness including in that word not only direct falsehood, but de
199 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
ceit and equivocation-is contempt; for it is the weapon which
God uses in nature. Contempt is the first feeling which springs
up in the heart, when we are brought face to face with a lie.
It is intuitive. We are conscious of it before we can reason
upon it. The person who tells the lie, unless entirely hardened, is conscious of it himself, and self-contempt, as it is a natural, so it is a much more severe punishment than the contempt of others.
We must, then, always speak of falsehood abstractedly, as
something utterly despicable; and we may safely use the same
tone when the offence is immediately brought before our notice. Only in that case we must take care to mark the distinction between the offence and the offender; otherwise we
run the risk of crushing a child's spirit, by rousing a sense of
degradation which destroys the energy necessary for amendment.  A really honourable child may, from some very strong
temptation, be led into falsehood or deceit, and the sense of
humiliation following upon the discovery will then be so keen,
that if the personal contempt of others is added to its own selfreproach, the feeling will become that agony of a " wounded
spirit," which " who can bear?"
One rule, however, we may safely make, for it scarcely
admits of an exception. A falsehood is never to go unpunished, whatever may have been the temptation which led to it,
or however sincere may be the repentance which follows it.
The sin exists as a sin in itself, and we may wisely say to a
child, " I never overlook a lie." Of course, this does not include cases in which the falsehood is voluntarily confessed.
The honourab]e act of confession must then be considered as
neutralizing to a great extent the dishonourable act of untruthfulness.
In dealing with habitual falsehood the treatment must, of
necessity, be different, and more severe, than when the offence
is only, as it were, accidental. But even then we must never
allow ourselves to speak so contemptuously as to create the
idea that we have lost all confidence in the offender. The
200
i
i 
TRUTH.
moment we do that we lose our influence. A child who knows
that she is not trusted, and believed, will never have the heart
to strive to make herself worthy of confidence.
And this creates a great difficulty in cases of deception and
equivocation, as well as of actual falsehood. To know that a
child is likely to deceive, and yet to act as though we gave her
credit for sincerity, requires more circumspection and self-con trol than the generality of persons are capable of. Some are
so indignant at the very idea of deception, that they pour down
a torrent of wrath and contempt without pausing to inquire
how far it is deserved, whilst others are by nature suspicious;
and suspicion, more than anything, creates deceit. Young
people who are watched and suspected, are driven into it.
Their simplest actions may, they know, be misconstrued, and
therefore they try to conceal them. This is especially to be
observed with regard to correspondence. Parents are naturally and rightfully anxious about their daughters' corre spondence, as it may become a matter of much importance, and
a common theory (which is as true as most theories!) is, that
daughters can have nothing to write which their parents may
not see, and that if they have, it must be something wrong.
All letters, therefore, are expected to be shown. And they
are shown. And if the daughters have good principles, the
results may be twofold; they will probably write and receive
but few letters-in itself a very good result-and they will beg
their young friends to be very careful what they say, and reserve a free correspondence for some time when they happen
to be away from home, and know that they can have their letters to themselves. Is this being perfectly open? And yet
these young girls may, by nature, abhor deceit.
But supposing the daughters not to be well principled, what
is then the effect of this system of suspicion? Will any amount
of watching and care prevent a wrong correspondence, if young
persons are determined to carry it on? We need only appeal
to general experience to prove the contrary. Or suppose that
we can by such means check correspondence, can we also check
201
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
the evil in the heart which gave rise to it, and which will surely
work itself out in some other way?
Suspicion, we may be assured, never yet nourished truth
in those already true, or checked it in those already untrue.
Confidence, trust, the appeal to the sense of honour which
God has implanted in the hearts of all;-these are the means
by which we may hope so to guard our children, by making
them guard themselves, that our own watchfulness will be unnecessary.
When a daughter can go to her mother and say, " I have
a letter, or part of a letter, which I do not wish to show," the
mother need have no fear of the contents of the letter. The
same honourable feeling which led to the acknowledgment,
will be a sufficient safeguard against any abuse of the confidence.
Girls of twelve and thirteen must indeed be kept within strict
limits in this matter, because they have not judgment enough
to see the desirableness or undesirableness of the friendships
they desire to cultivate. Their letters are for the most part a
waste of time; but even with them-if we wish to make them
thoroughly truthful-we must content ourselves with knowing
to whom they write, and not be rigid in insisting upon always
superintending the correspondence.   They  may have their
little plans and schemes, perfectly innocent, but requiring some
temporary secrecy, and if they cannot depend upon their elders
to trust them, and not to inquire curiously into their small
affairs, they will, unless singularly straightforward, be tempted
to use deceptions which are very injurious to the character.
But when young people have reached the age of seventeen or
eighteen, even the force of circumstances points out that in this
matter of letter-writing they must be left free. If they are
worth anything, we may be quite sure they will not keep up
any correspondence which they know their parents would disapprove; and if they are not, the commands of parents will be
of no more avail than their wishes.
With this subject of letters, that of conversation is intimately connected. Young people write to their friends, and of
202 
TRUTH.
course they talk to them; and we must make up our minds
that, in perfect innocence, they will occasionally say or wish
to say things which they do not desire their parents, or persons
set over them, to hear. This is a broad statement. It re quires explanation. There is a great distinction-one which
must never be overlooked-between words and acts which we
should be ashamed for those whom we respect to know, and
words and acts which we do not wish them to know.
If young people, when trusted together, say or do things
which they would be ashamed to own, those things cannot be
innocent. But there may be many little confidences and sub jects of interest, even matters of mutual confession and advice,
of real value, which would at once be put a stop to by the
interference or cognizance of a third person. We all can
understand this. Two persons not on terms of particular
friendship are, we will suppose, talking freely to each other,
and really enjoying the conversation; a third person enters,
who is perhaps the intimate friend of one of them. The conversation ceases. There were no secrets going on. There
may perhaps have been no reason why the new comer should
not have heard what was said, and joined in it; but somehow
it is impossible to continue. A new element has been introduced, a fresh combination must be formed. To be jealous
and suspicious under such circumstances would be wrong and
absurd; and yet it is not unusual for elder persons to be fretted when they enter a room in which two young persons are
talking, and find that the conversation suddenly stops. So,
again, we can, in certain states of feeling, and under certain
circumstances, say things to one person which we should be
wholly unable to say to others. This is especially the case
with the young. They can and do talk to those of their own
age with an amount of freedom which it is almost impossible
for them to enjoy with persons who stand above them. They
do not love their young companions more, they do not respect
them as much. They would on no account be guided by their
advice in preference to that of their elders, but they are more
203
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
free with them; and so they say things to them which they
could not say to their mother or their governess.
And if we love them-desire their confidence-wish for their
respect-and look forward to their being one day our own
cherished friends, they must be permitted to enjoy this freedom. Assist them in the choice of their friends we must
(this is a subject to be reserved for future consideration), but
when the friendship is formed with our sanction and concurrence, we must not act the spy upon it, still less suspect it.
It is with conversation as with letters, we cannot check it;
therefore let us put upon it the restraint of honour. It is the
only restraint which will be of any avail. And if we show
this loving confidence, we shall very soon know all that we
wish to know. When once girls feel that they are trusted,
they will continually, of their own accord, come to the mother,
or the friend whom they respect, and repeat the very things
which they have said to each other, and which they fancied
were secrets reserved for their own breasts. They have a natural wish for guidance and help; and they will seek it if it is not
forced upon them. Or it may be said (the case has actually
occurred)-"  I have a secret, something which I should like to
tell you, but I must not. I should be glad to ask your advice,
but I am not at liberty to do so; but the secret makes me uncomfortable, and therefore I could not help telling you that I
have it." Such an instance is an exhibition of perfect confidence on both sides. The young girl knows that her secret
will not be inquired into; the mother or the friend feels that
it cannot be, on her part, a wrong secret. In due time it will
certainly be known. Till then the young girl is learning a
most valuable lesson, that of using her own judgment, and
trying to act conscientiously under difficult circumstances, yet
without any exercise of self-will. And similar confidence
should be shown by ourselves. To say-" My dear, you must
go away because I have something to talk about which ] do
not wish you to hear," is an open avowal accepted without in
204 
TRUTH.
quiry. To make a pretence for getting the child out of the
room excites suspicion and wrong curiosity.
But we shall often meet with cases in which, although
there is no actual deceit, yet from timidity, or vanity, or from
some other cause, there is a want of openness, or an attempt
at equivocation.  Children-little children especially-will say
one thing, meaning another. They will ask favours for others,
intending them all the time for their own benefit. This
species of deceit is irritating from its meanness. It may be
met with the calm statement, " What you really want is so
and so. Now repeat your request again." A child is startled
by this apparent knowledge of its thoughts, and ashamed of
having been found out; and the next time it will be afraid to
be thus double.
So, again, with regard to exaggeration. No one can overestimate the grievous consequences of this fault, and, therefore,
no pains should be spared to root it out. It is especially the
sin of later years-of persons who are otherwise amiable and
agreeable; who are flattered by society, admired by their acquaintances, grieved over by their friends, and-too oftendespised by their relations. For it is only those intimately connected with the offender who, as a general rule, really understand the fatal consequences of this form of falsehood. The
careless exaggeration told in society passes by unheeded, or if
remembered, it is difficult to fix the stigma upon the right per.
son. Reports, it is known, are always exaggerated, and what
is every one's sin is no one's sin. But amongst relations, the
heartburnings and discords, the misunderstandings and uncharitableness, caused by exaggeration, would be a history to
fill volumes.
Surely the first germs of such a fault should be watched
and uprooted! A child comes to us with some made-up story
founded upon a fact which has actually happened. We laugh
at its powers of imagination, perhaps we may think the story a
proof of cleverness. Or if we consider it our duty to reprove,
we do so with such ill-concealed amusement, that the child
205 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
instantly sees through our assumed anger, and is encouraged
to be a little more imaginative on the next occasion which may
offer.
There are even cases in which this imaginative faculty is
so strong, that stories which have not the slightest foundation
are invented and repeated with the most circumstantial details,
and apparently without object; and when this is the case, the
seeming innocence of evil on the part of the offender is a strong
inducement to overlook the fault altogether. But to do this is
to commit a fatal mistake. Fact is fact; fiction is fiction. To
confound the two is falsehood. This is the lesson to be enforced for life. Quietly and deliberately, therefore, we may in
such cases question and cross-question, till we have forced the
conviction of untruthfulness upon the child's mind; and then
the fault must be punished with more or less severity as a lie.
The absence of motive or wrong intention must not be accepted as an excuse.
Exaggeration, which is a much more common form of this
imaginative untruthfulness, requires to be treated in a somewhat similar way. A girl who habitually exaggerates is probably not aware of the extent of her offence, neither is she likely
to be so for a long time. Some persons, especially great talkers, who pique themselves upon being agreeable in conversation,
and therefore dress up their stories in order to be entertaining,
go through life without perceiving the sin of exaggeration.
But in educating the young, it is our duty to reprove most
sharply those faults which are least likely to be noticed by
conscience.
We must, therefore, rouse ourselves to some trouble in this
matter. As in the case of direct invention, alittle questioning
and examination will make the child convict herself of her
own fault. It will compel her to disentangle the fact from the
fiction. She will not like the process, it will be humiliating,
but very salutary; and when the fact comes out in its plain
garb, she should be made to repeat it, to put it side by side
with her own statement, and then be compelled to own that the
206 
TRUTH.
discrepancy is a thing to be ashamed of. And the correction
of the habit should be constant; no instance of it should be
allowed to remain unchecked. It is one of those cases in which
it is far less dangerous to err on the side of strictness than on
that of leniency. Exaggeration is a weed which grows much
more rapidly than we can pluck it up; and if it is once suffer ed to become a habit, it will mar all that is really valuable in
the character. To catch up a person's words, to bring him to
task, are expressions which have a very unpleasant sound; and
grown-up people so greatly resent the attempt to carry them
out in action, that in the world exaggerations are allowed to
run their course, to multiply and enlarge, until the careless re port becomes the accepted slander, and characters are ruined,
and prospects blasted, without any intention of saying what is
false, but because no one will take the trouble to be quite sure
that he is speaking truth. But children will bear what their
elders will not. Though the check may annoy them for the
moment, they will not resent it afterwards, and the habit of
watchful accuracy thus acquired will be an invaluable blessing
to them through life. For with this habit of strict truth, strict
justice is inseparably connected. Perhaps there is no one who
has not at some time or other in his life suffered from the injustice consequent upon misrepresentation, or who has not found
himself tempted to be guilty of it. We make a certain statement, using certain words. The person to whom the statement
is made repeats it with, perhaps, the change of one word for
another, which he professes to think bears the same meaning.
To us the two words have totally distinct meanings. We advisedly used the one, we would on no account have used the
other.  Upon this statement so altered an accusation is based
and circulated; we defend ourselves by repeating the statement
as we originally made it. But it is too late. The lie has gone
forth into the world, and truth, be it never so swift-footed, will
fail to overtake it.
And so with regard to ourselves, more especially in argument. That man must be very singularly true and just who
207 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
has never been induced to take up his opponent's words, and
twist them to suit his own meaning; and that knowingly, from
the eager desire to prove himself in the right. Arguments
would be conducted in a very different spirit, if every one
would take the trouble to ascertain precisely what his adversary
means before he attempts to refute him. Till this is done, the
argument must be untruthful, because based upon false premises, and the conclusions deduced from them must be unjust.
There are, indeed, times, when it seems as if the whole
world was like Don Quixote, occupying itself in fighting with
windmills, believing them to be giants; and in the act of fighting doing mischief which can never be repaired. We may,
perhaps, ourselves be dimly conscious of having some special
little windmill, against which we have kept up a contest so
long, and upon which we have wasted so much time and energy, that the information which should open our eyes to the
fact that, after all, it was a windmill and no giant, would be by
no means acceptable to us. But, however this may be, at least
let us try to save our children from a mistake so reprehensible
in its origin, and so sad in its consequences. Let us teach
them the meaning and the power of words; show them the
difference between what they say and what they wish to say;
check them when they give way to exaggerated expressions
themselves, or put a wrong construction upon those used by
others; and, above all, let us never accept the excuse that the
words they use do not in their mouths mean what they do in
those of others. The ordinary, natural interpretation of words
is their true interpretation. We have no more right to give
them a meaning different from that of the world than we have
to call sixpence. a shilling, and endeavour to pass it as such.
Words are the current coin of the common reason; and reason puts her own valuation upon them, and stamps them with
her sovereign mark. The value may alter with time, custom,
and circumstances, but the power which effects this alteration
must still be the same; and the individual who chooses to assume the privilege to himself must be content to be scoffed at
208 
TRUTH.
for his folly, and in the end severely punished for his presumption.
These are grave matters, worthy of all attention, small
though they may to some appear. We wish our children to
be blessings in their generation, as well as a comfort to ourselves. It is the dream of every parent who thinks seriously
upon the position in which man is placed in this world of probation, and faces without shrinking the tremendous interests
involved in it.
Then, above all things, let us educate them in truth; for
without truth there can be no justice, and without justice earth
would become a Pandemonium.
209 
CHAPTER XVI.
EDUCATION IN JUSTICE AS THE ANTIDOTE TO SELFISHNESS.
AND thus we arrive at the duty of educating children in
justice, or truth in act. Probably we have not often thought
what this involves. The ordinary idea of justice is that of
deciding fairly between two claimants. Such a task is seldom
imposed upon children, and we may therefore naturally think
that the duty of justice may be left to be enforced by reason
when the age of discretion and responsibility shall have arrived.
But looking upon justice as being, what it is in fact, practical truth, we shall find that it enters into every question of
morals, and is in reality the great instrument by which the errors consequent upon weakness and passion are, through God's
help, to be rectified. Sin in any form is the result of falsehood.
It is based upon a false belief concerning God; a false estimate of present happiness; and false expectations of it for
the future. This same falsity, carried out in our actions, produces injustice towards our fellow-creatures, which is in reality
nothing but an untrue estimate of the relations in which we
stand to them, leading us to acts which are the necessary and
inevitable consequence of that belief. Thus, disregard of the
true relation between parents and children exhibits itself in
undutifulness; and a similar forgetfulness of true social relations produces pride. If we could suppose a child to boeducated perfectly in the recognition of every family, social, and
political relation,-so long as it carried out the principles of 
SELFISHNESS.
its education, it could never be proud or selfish, much less
mean, or unkind, or ungrateful. But, alas! we have first to
educate ourselves; and too many of us do not even know what
self-education means; whilst the few who do comprehend it,
have probably begun to learn their lesson so late in life, or
have from circumstances found such difficulty in perfecting it,
that even whilst preaching justice they act injustice, and example being more powerful than exhortation, their words fail
to produce any lasting effect.
If, however, the principle of justice is so important, it cannot but be useful to examine into its practical working, as the corrective of two of the most stubborn ingrained faults of human
nature-selfishness and  pride;-faults into which so many
others may be resolved, that in checking them we should check
a host of minor offences, which are commonly considered to
require distinct treatment.
For in this, as in many other instances, inquiry brings us
back to a very few original principles, which if we can once
thoroughly engraft in our minds, we shall solve many questions of moral and educational difficulty.
And first with regard to selfishness. What is selfishness?
The answer will be suggested at once: an undue regard for
self. We may mark that word undue, or as it might be more
strictly called untrue or unjust; for it points to the fact which
selfish persons constantly bring forward as their excuse, that
there is such a thing as due or lawful self-love, a quality which,
as Bishop Butler says, " seems inseparable from all sensible
creatures, who can reflect upon themselves, and their own interest or happiness, so as to have that interest an object to
their minds." 1
Self-love comes to us by nature, and is in itself innocent;
we have, therefore, no occasion to cultivate, only to regulate
it. Even in those very rare instances in which there appears
to be an exaggerated unselfishness, leading to folly and weakness, self-love is not extinct, though it takes a form in which
1 Butler's Sermon "Upon the Love of our Neighbour."
211 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
it may be difficult to recognize it. That which is sinful is inordinate self-love, a love which does not rightly appreciate the
claims of others; and we shall find, if we have to deal with a
candid and true mind, that this perception of truth, acting as
an incentive to practice, will be our most powerful assistant in
counteracting selfishness.
For it is useless to appeal to feeling as an antidote to self
ishness. There may be no real hardness of heart, or absence
of benevolence in general, but in the particular case in which
selfishness is exhibited, the claims of self-love are felt so
strongly, that they overpower benevolence. Treat the question calmly, dispassionately, make a plain statement of the
claims on both sides; then leave it to be considered, and even
if the victory should be gained by selfishness, it will be accompanied by such a pang of self-reproach, suggested by
truth and justice, that the power of the evil principle will
at least be checked, and the consciousness of having been
guilty of the fault will produce a most salutary sense of
shame.
This mode of dealing with selfishness should be constantly
put in practice. True claims should be always truly stated,
and then left without any appeal to feeling.
And if in any case truth and justice are to be found on the
side of the ordinarily selfish claimant, by all means let them be
attended to. It is not because in nine cases we have ourselves
been unfair, that in the tenth others may be unfair to us.  We
shall but irritate by compelling a child to a sacrifice which
cannot rightly be required of it; and we shall weaken the
power of the one great instrument, by which we hope to counteract the power of selfishness-perfect justice.
This cold justice is, indeed, very far removed from what is
called unselfishness, which consists in yielding what may fairly
be claimed; and not only so, but showing that the sacrifice is
a pleasure. But in education we must be content to work
with the materials which are given us. To feel pleasure in
self-sacrifice is not in itself an exercise of virtue. It is only a
212 
SELFISHINESS.
gift or attainment which makes virtue easy. A person who
does a kind act willingly, is more agreeable than one who does
it unwillingly; but so long as both actions are the result of
right principle, both are good. And if we can once succeed
in establishing justice as a habit of mind, there will be a
pleasure in its exercise which will exhibit itself in a cheerful
readiness of manner, producing in its turn gratitude on the
part of the person who is benefited. Gratitude will soften the
hardness of cold justice, and the result will be that glad forgetfulness of self, which is unselfishness in its best form.
And it is very important to bear in mind that selfishness
is not corrected, as some persons are apt to think, by the
example of what is commonly called unselfishness-often the
contrary.
Unselfish mothers make selfish children. This is a startling assertion, but it will unquestionably be borne out by experience. What is the cause?
An unselfish mother-according to the world's definitionis one who gives up time, thought, comfort, pleasure, often
even health, for what she considers her children's good, and
yet more-for their gratification. She not only guides and
instructs them, but she waits upon them, and works for them.
So long as they are comfortable, it matters not that she is uncomfortable; so long as they are enjoying themselves, it is of
no consequence if she is slaving for them.
But is this right? Is it the recognition of the true relation
between the parent and child-between old and young?  The
same principle which requires a child to be respectful in manner, and obedient to her mother, requires also that she should
be called upon to spare her trouble, to consider her wishes, to
sacrifice little personal gratifications for her. But the so-called
unselfish mother allows her daughter to forget this.  She places
herself in an untrue relation, and then supposes that she can
work out a right result. If we desire to make children unselfish, we must show them their true duties, and then leave
them to be performed.
213 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
And again: benevolent parents fall into a similar mistake.
The true relation in which the man who possesses wealth, or
even a competence, stands to the poor and needy, is that of
God's steward. This is, in fact, the relation in which we all
stand. We have no property, rightly so called. We are simply entrusted with a portion from the treasury of God, which
we are to dispense according to certain laws. For our own
share we are to take that which is necessary for the maintenance of the station of life in which God has placed us. To
go beyond this is, in reality, to be guilty of injustice-to use
for ourselves that which lawfully belongs to others.
But one of the first lessons which many really good parents
give their children is that of practically denying this truth.
Recognizing it themselves, they yet teach their children the
contrary, by deliberately pursuing a system which must lead
to this wrong result. They lavish upon them every luxury;
they give them whatever they ask for; they never allow them
to think that money is of any importance, still less do they associate its possession with duty and self-denial; and, more
than all, they allow them to be benevolent by proxy. The
poor, it may be, are fed; the naked clothed; the ignorant instructed; but it is with no effort on the part of the children
of the household. They are brought up on a system of delusion. If they see a case of distress, and their feelings are
touched, they run to their parents and ask for money; and it
is given them. And in the act of relieving the distress, the
instinct of benevolence is satisfied, and a very comfortable selfcomplacency follows. But personal self-denial, personal selfsacrifice?-They know nothing of it.  Their only idea of the
extent of the claim to which they are liable is, that they must
give what they do not want themselves; and as every passing
fancy has from infancy been gratified, of course their personal
needs are by no means small.
The effects of such training are painfully visible in after
life. The subject is a very large and a very important one,
and is forced upon our attention year by year, as public statis
214 
SELFISHNESS.
tics and private observation bring before us the frightful
rapidity with which poverty and suffering, with their attendant
vice, are increasing, so as to make it seemingly hopeless in any
degree to overtake them.
England boasts of her benevolence;  her charities  are
reckoned by thousands. Alas! her poor, and degraded, and
ignorant are reckoned by millions!
And  these thousands-from whom  are they collected?
Where are the princely gifts of those on whom God has be stowed the wealth of princes? Never may we forget the few
who have, in our own days, come forward to show how riches
may be used, so that they may become a treasure in Heaven!
But setting aside these noble exceptions, is it not an acknowl edged fact, that, with regard to both public and private charities, by far the larger portion of the funds is contributed by
those who have only moderate or even small incomes? Are
not the clergy-many of them possessing incomes which a
nobleman would scarcely consider sufficient for his upper servant-compelled to support by their yearly mites schemes for
good, which one effort of real self-denial, on the part of a millionnaire, might establish permanently at once?
Yes, England is benevolent, as the world reckons benevolence! The columns of the Times carry the record of our
good deeds to the farthest end of the earth, and nations wonder and applaud. But the columns of the Times are not the
record which is to be produced at the Great Day of account;
and when God shall demand of each individual, now revelling
in luxury, the principle on which his charities were regulated,
there is but one answer which will be accepted. It is embodied in the words of David to Araunah-"1 Neither will I offer
burnt offerings unto the Lord my God of that which doth cost
me nothing."
And these rich men-these millionnaires-these possessors
of splendid fortunes, or even only of very ample means-are,
then, utterly selfish, totally insensible to the needs of their fellow-creatures!
' 2 Sam. xxiv. 24.
215
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
By no means. They are, for the most part, kind-hearted,
estimable, irreproachable in their family relations. They are
merely, like Dives, ignorant of the nature and extent of their
social relations. They see untruly-that is all. They are
quite willing that Lazarus should lie at their gate, and eat of
their crumbs; some, perhaps, will even take the trouble to
send him out a portion from their well-spread table. What
they do not see is, that the sufferer has a claim to more-that
he is to be tended, and watched, and nourished; that personal
self-denial, for his benefit, is required of them; that wealth
is an excrescence which hardens around the heart, and
that it must be cut away before that heart can be really
touched.
To give, and give, and give, until the self-denial of giving
is felt-that is the test of whether we have given enough.
And so to be a weak fool-or an enthusiast! Nay, far
from it. Once more recur to the law of true relation, the principle of justice, and this vexed question of giving will be made
clearer. The relations in which we stand to our fellowcreatures are many. That of wealth to poverty is but one.
Royalty, rank, political office, have their claims as well as beggary and ignorance. The encouragement of art, literature,
science, the support of national honour, the duties of hospitable and social intercourse, are no more to be neglected than
the foundation and support of hospitals and reformatories.
The station in which God has placed us by birth it is incumbent upon us to maintain. The fact that God has annexed
pleasure and ease to it does not make it wrong in us to keep
it up. So long as we guard against any self-deceit in this
matter, we are at liberty to enjoy thankfully the comforts
which He has bestowed upon us; only-the greater are the
necessities of luxury which surround us, the greater should be
the unostentatious self-denial which we practise. Doubtless
many difficult questions will from time to time suggest them selves as to the extent of the claims of birth and station, but
an honest heart will seek God's aid, and so be enabled to an
216 
SELFISHNESS.
swer them upon the whole rightly; more especially if education
upon this point has begun early.
Persons accustomed from childhood to recognize claims of
every kind will never. indeed, succeed in reconciling them per fectly, for to do this is to exercise absolute justice; but the
habit of considering them will give a largeness and clearness
of comprehension, which will be a safer guide through life than
the most disinterested intentions, taken apart from experience
and judgment.
This is more especially seen with regard to personal expenditure. The sooner a young person can be trusted with an
allowance the better. Such responsibility will teach real selfdenial and economy, and prove the test of true generosity.
Nothing is so easy as to give away that which belongs to
another; and a child brought up in this habit becomes both
selfish and extravagant unconsciously. In all cases, the allowance should be measured by the child's future prospects. It is
as great a mistake to give a small allowance to a rich heiress,
as it is to give a large sum to a child who may have to work
for her own livelihood. What is needed in both instances is
the knowledge of the true relation between the individual and
her fellow-creatures; and it is as important for the rich to be
taught to spend money generously, as it is for the poor to
spend it carefully.
For it must be remembered, that people give at thirty according to the rate at which they were taught to give at ten or
twelve. If the gifts of the latter age were necessarily limited
to a twentieth part of the small allowance, then the gifts of the
former will usually be in the same proportion to the whole fortune. Treble the allowance, and the charities and kindnesses
may be trebled, for the personal expenses will remain the
same; and the habit of distributing these charities wisely will
be a lesson to be practised through life.
And, after all, this duty of giving is mainly habit, except
in persons of great benevolence. It is astonishing how quickly
we accustom ourselves to enlarge our charities or our kindnesses
10
217
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
when once our eyes are open to perceive the duty. Wealthy
persons, who give five pounds a year to a charity, might often
just as easily give twenty, thirty, or even fifty, if they did but
think about it. But this they have never been accustomed to
do. Having never felt any need themselves, they have no idea
what need is. And in the same way, and much more frequently, they have no perception of the claims of those who
are not, strictly speaking, poor, but who are hampered by small
incomes or large families. They cannot understand that what
is so practicable to themselves is quite out of the power of their
friends. Like the princess who in the time of great scarcity
wondered that the poor did not eat cake, if they were unable
to procure bread, they cannot see where the real pressure lies;
and so it never enters into their minds to relieve it, as they often
and often might do, by some thoughtful kindness, which, without bringing with it an unpleasant sense of obligation, would
really give the aid required. Now all this is a question of
early habits, of a perception of true claims-in other words,
of justice.  That is a hard, cold word; it has no such pleasant
sound as benevolence, or generosity; but it is the foundation
of both, and without it benevolence is weakness, and generosity but another form of selfishness; since it is the recognition
of the claim which we like, in preference to that to which we
are indifferent.
Be just before you are generous. Pay your debts before
you make presents. What a host of sorrows and disappointments would be spared if these common maxims could only be
thoroughly implanted in young minds! And they never can
be, unless there is a sense of possession, and with it of responsibility and limitation. So long as a young girl can go to a
father or mother for everything she needs, she will have no
knowledge of what debt means, no motive for self-denial, no
pleasure in giving- and, in consequence, no thought for
others. Possessing nothing which she can strictly call her
own, she is not called upon to recognize social and charitable claims, and so unconsciously she becomes selfish.
41
218 
SELFISHNESS.
And this strict justice is a most valuable safeguard against
self-deceit. There is scarcely anything about which people
delude themselves and others so much as generosity. It is
such a very dazzling, conspicuous virtue-so extremely pleas ant in its exercise, and it produces such immediate results! It
comes forth, as it were, full blown; whereas justice is buried
in the ground, and when it does exhibit itself, does so often
under a guise which is far from pleasing. Probably it appears
to be want of sympathy, and niggardliness. It is only as time
goes on, and we see the full working of the two principles,
that we perceive the true nature of justice, and are compelled
to own that without it real generosity cannot exist. When a
man who owes another five hundred pounds, offers his creditor
a present of fifty, and expects to be thanked for his generosity,
the world cries scorn upon his folly; but the same absurdity is
carried out continually, on a small scale, in private relations,
and the beginning of it may in almost all instances be traced
to some wrong training in youth.
Justice may be accepted in lieu of generosity, but generosity can never be received in lieu of justice. And for this reason, that it is not generosity at all. A generous person does
what is just, and something beyond. A person who overlooks
justice-takes away from A in order to give to B-and then
entertains the delusion that he has made a sacrifice of something which was his own-this is simple falsity; an untruth.
219 
CHAPTER XVII.
EDUCATION IN JUSTICE AS THE ANTIDOTE TO PREJUDICE AND
ILLIBERALITY.
BUT truth working itself out in justice is not only the counteracting principle to selfishness, but to narrowness of mind,
uncharitableness, want of sympathy. The assertion is almost
self-evident, and yet we are apt to make mistakes upon the
subject. What many of us are tempted to do is to choose the
duties which we like, and neglect those which we dislike; or,
even if it is no question of preference, to choose one or two
which we think important, and to put others aside: so we become narrow and unsympathetic.
Now, this certainly is not in accordance with the example
given us by our Blessed Lord, or with the teaching of His
Apostles. Our Lord taught publicly, but He also taught privately.  He spent whole nights in prayer, but in the daytime
HIe mingled with crowds in cittes. He lived apart with His
disciples, but He was present at the marriage feast, and dined
at the table of the Pharisee. And, in like manner, in the
directions given by the Apostles to their converts, we find a
careful inculcation of the duties following upon all the relations in which mankind stand to each other. Sovereign and
rulers, friends, children, inferiors, the rich, the poor, all are
mentioned; all have true claims, and, therefore, all must, in
their degree, be noticed 
It is this kind of education which alone can make young
people large-minded. We sometimes find persons giving up 
PREJUDICE.
all social intercourse because they desire to devote themselves
more entirely to the good of their families:-a most excellent
object, and if' the world was peopled with the members of their
own household, a most laudable resolution. But as it happens
that there are other persons to be considered, and other claims
to be attended to, it will generally be found that the effect of
such conduct is to create a spirit of narrow-mindedness, unable
to undersiand or sympathize with anything beyond its own
little sphere of thought and action. So, again, people give
themselves up to one kind of occupation, perhaps to some be nevolent work; they devote all their thoughts to it, but they
make great blunders, and the work proves a failure.  Why?
They have taken a one-sided view. They have shut them selves out from the opinions and sympathies of the ordinary
world, and, in consequence, are deficient in sound judgment.
This may seem to contradict what has been previously said
as to being guided in education by the peculiar talents and
idiosyncrasies of the individual. But it does not really do so.
No doubt it is right that persons, whether young or old, should,
if possible, devote themselves to the work for which they seem
specially fitted, but it is also needful that some attention should,
at the same time, be paid to other duties in order to keep up a
right balance, both of the mental and moral powers.
We occasionally hear of some very small rent paid for a
piece of ground, merely as a recognition of true ownership.
So should it be with the duties arising from mutual relations.
God claims them all from us in greater or less degree. If circumstances compel us to give the larger portion of our time to
one claim, then what remains must be divided amongst those
which are less imperative. But some notice must be taken of
each. The shilling must be paid, though it may be impossible
for us to offer the pound. The rule can less easily be carried
out with children than by grown-up persons, because the sphere
of employment of the young must, to a certain extent, be limited; but even with them it should never be forgotten. Study
must not preclude some thought for the poor. Lessons must
221
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
not be so engrossing as utterly to prevent an attention to active
home duties and social relations. But in all these things it is
the tone of a house which educates, and one-sided or narrowminded parents will make one-sided or narrow-minded children, let tutors or governesses do what they may to counteract
the evil. A high standard, a large view, a recognition of all
claims, even though it may be impossible to give them more
than a slight attention,-this it is which keeps the heart sympathetic and the hand open, and more especially makes the
judgment sound. A right view of the relations of life, and
truth, and sound judgment, are inseparable.
And, once more, truth and justice are the only support of
true-the only safeguard against false-liberality.  This principle, taken in the abstract, is the idol of the present day, and
its prevalent worship leads many to suppose that it is inconsistent with the maintenance of truth.   Undoubtedly, in a
number of cases, it is so.  Liberality that admits everything
to be true, which every one thinks true, does, in fact, deny the
existence of truth altogether. But the world would not be so
eager in its support of liberality if there were no admixture
of good in it. Foolish and wicked as mankind are, they are
not idiots or demons; they do not admire folly for folly's sake,
nor sin for sin's sake. They may make grievous mistakes as
to what is good, but it is because they believe that what they
uphold really is good that they value it.
And true liberality is good, because it is based upon truth
and justice.  Without negativing truth, it recognizes the fact
that it may be viewed differently by different persons. We
look at a landscape through an ordinary glass, and declare that
the grass is green. Another person, without being aware of
what he is doing, looks at it through a red glass, and says that
it is red. We are bound to uphold the truth, that the hue of
the grass is what we know it to be. It would be an absurd
liberality to profess to doubt the fact, because of the opposite
assertion; but so it would be an injustice not to own that our
opponent has a reason for his statement. As he looks at the
222 
PREJUDICE.
grass, it is not green. His fault is not in stating what he sees,
but in maintaining the statement without referring to the testi mony of other witnesses, and of his own experience, which
would convince him that he is under a delusion.
Truth and justice imperatively demand that, in all con tested cases, we should place ourselves in the position of the
person opposed to us, and, before we begin to argue-much
more to find fault-do our very utmost to see with his eyes,
and view the subject according to his prejudices. This, we
must remember, is not for a moment admitting that the truth
which we are regarding has no independent existence apart
from our idea of it (which is the false liberality so justly
dreaded); it is only putting on another pair of spectacles
through which to look at it.
Children may be taught to do this just as much as their
elders. But they will not readily acquire the lesson. Perhaps, in the ordering of God's wisdom, it may be better that it
should be rather a difficulty; otherwise, with the tendency to
exaggeration and misconception common to their age, they
would be very likely to imbibe the idea that truth is nothing in
itself, and that it does not signify whether what we believe is
true, so long as we think it to be true. An error of this kind
may, as we learn from the analogy of nature, produce grave
consequences. The man who grasps a knife believing it to be
a stick, does not escape injury because his imagination deceived him; and false doctrine will lead to wrong practice,
and, in consequence, to sorrow and suffering.  But though it
may be, and indeed is, most necessary to insist upon this objective existence of truth, especially in early years, yet we
shall find that, as young people grow up, it is equally necessary to accustom them to consider it subjectively, or according
to the view taken of it by different minds. And still more is
this habit of viewing a question on all sides, and understanding all the facts connected with it, needful in the affairs of
common life.
Hasty judgments, unkind imputations, angry words-all
223
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
have their source in prejudice; prejudgment-or judgment
formed before the facts of a case are known, and the view taken
of it by others is thoroughly considered. We are quite safe
in enforcing the exercise of such considerations-or, in other
words, of justice-in all childish or youthful quarrels or discussions, because we can never make young people too forbearing, or too patient and just, and unprejudiced, where their own
personal interests, or their likings and dislikings, are concerned.
If we can teach them to pause before they pronounce a judgment until they have heard what is to be said on the other side;
we shall give them an invaluable lesson for life. There will
be no fear, in such cases, of their denying the existence of
right, because they are compelled to see that there is right, or
-more probably-wrong, on both sides.  Moral truth is in
this unlike revealed truth, that it has a witness in our own
breasts which cannot be gainsaid. Two persons may dispute
upon the doctrines of the Trinity or the Incarnation, and false
liberality, judging between them, may say that each holds truth
because each believes himself to do so. But suppose it to be
a question of whether it was right, under certain circumstances, to kill a man, the bystander called upon to decide
would not for a moment doubt that the act of murder was
wrong, though he might be doubtful whether, in the special
instance under consideration, the act could be called murder.
And if we can bring ourselves to recognize the duty of
true liberality, its extent and its limitations, we shall have
gained a valuable antidote to anxiety in our education of the
young. Persons who form theories, and act upon systems
with their children, are often greatly disturbed by finding them
suddenly upset by the events of life. Wishing to be wiser
than Providence, they mark out for themselves a plan of life,
which is (little though they think it) to be independent of
Providence. They settle themselves, perhaps, in a certain
locality, because they wish their children to be brought up in
Church principles, and believe that the religious teaching will
be sound and the society congenial. And so for a time it is,
224 
PREJUDICE.
and the children never hear of erroneous doctrine, except as
of something monstrous from which they must be guarded,
and are never allowed to associate with any persons but those
who agree with them. But unexpectedly the clergyman dies,
the society changes, and the parents are in despair. All their
plans are set at naught; they must either move to some other
place, which perhaps is out of their power, or they must ex pose their children to instruction and social intercourse which
may unsettle their minds. What is to be done?
Surely, to own that God's teaching is wiser than man's,
and to submit to it.  Let the children go to church, and
hear what is said, and then show them at home why, and
how, it is unsound. They will learn in this way to distinguish
truth in itself, from truth as it is represented under distorted
forms, and their convictions will be far firmer than if they had
never known the existence of error. And so also let them
mix in the society which has gathered around them, hear
differences of opinion, see differences of manner, feel by ex perience the power and earnestness of minds nurtured in an
atmosphere quite unlike their own. Some cherished prejudices
may be shaken, some narrow views enlarged, and possiblyfor there is no doubt a risk of such an evil-opinions which
have been held sacred may become in their eyes less important
than they really are.  But if such teaching and intercourse
are sent in the ordering of God's Providence, without effort or
fault of our own (in which case it would be unquestionably
wrong), we may not fear it. In the end it will work for good,
much greater good than any system of ours, though the latter
may be carefully considered and effectually carried out.
" L'homme  propose, mais Dieu  dispose."   And how shall
man's plans be wiser than God's orderings?
There are dangers to which we mray not dare to expose
children voluntarily, but which, if placed in their path by God,
must be intended for their good.
To hold certain principles because some particular person
holds them, and we have always been taught to believe that
'225
.1 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
what he says is right, may serve us very well so long as we
are under the influence of this individual, and so long also as
he himself keeps in the right track. But experience teaches
us that no human being, good and clever though he may be,
is safe from fatal error; and our Blessed Lord especially
warns us to call "no one'our Master upon earth; because
One is our MIaster which is in heaven."
That conviction of truth alone is to be prized which can
stand, though angels tempt it to its fall.
"So spake the seraph Abdiel, faithful found
Among the faithless-faithful only he
Among innumerable false; unmoved,
Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified,
His loyalty he kept-his love-his zeal:
Nor number, nor example, with him wrought
To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind,
Though single."
226 
CHAPTER XVIII.
PRIDE,
THERE is another fault as common as Selfishness, and per haps even more dangerous, which will also find its corrective
in the principle of truth.
Who of us has not at times felt tempted to be proud of
Pride? And to be proud of a fault is to cherish an insur mountable obstacle to its subdual.
Hlere, again, the mistake lies in a confusion of ideas. Self love is innocent. Selfishness is not. We confound the two,
and bring ourselves into perplexity and error. In like manner,
self-respect is good; pride is evil. We do not trouble ourselves to distinguish between them, and cherish a vice whllilst
we think we are upholding a virtue.
But it may be said, the distinction is so subtle, it can
scarcely be perceived
Not so. The distinction is evident, if we will only try the
two classes of feeling by the right test. Truth is the spear of
Ithuriel, which will compel pride to show itself in its deformity.
This, however, requires illustration and explanation.
A person who is accused of acting from a wrong motive,
when he knows that his only wish was to do right, may justly
maintain his innocence, at least as regards intention. It is his
treasure, a fact which, being true, he is called upon to assert.
And he may also be indignant at having a wrong motive imputed to him, for the feeling thus excited is not pride at all, it
is simply self-respect.
But a person who is conscious of this wrong motive, has no 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
such treasure of innocence to guard. His sole remaining dignity is the acknowledgment of having done wrong, for such
acknowledgment is truth. When, therefore, he refuses to own
his fault, his feeling is pride, and pride is a sin and degradation. The rule holds good in all cases where acknowledgment
of a fault or a misdeed is required. As soon as conscience
whispers that we have done wrong, or in any way been mistaken, it matters not whether we are more or less in fault than
others-the refusal to own the fact is pride.
Very difficult it is to make children see this, and if pride
has been allowed to grow up unchecked, it will strengthen
with years, till at length it becomes almost impossible to eradicate it. Men and women will continually show by silent action, that they are aware of having been in the wrong, but
perhaps not more than one in a hundred possesses the true nobleness of mind which leads to the acknowledgment in words. It
is strange that it should be so, for we must all be aware of the
effect which honourable confession of having been in error, or
mistaken, produces. We all know how, in an instant, it changes
the current of angry feelings, how it blots out past unkindness,
and induces us to throw a veil over any lingering weakness;
more than this, how unconsciously it engenders a feeling of
respect.
We are aware of all this, indeed, with others, but we cannot
believe it to be so with ourselves; or rather, Satan tempts us with
his own special favourite sin, and, blinding our eyes, prevents
us from seeing that the recognition of truth must, in itself, be
honourable, even though it may humble us to the dust; whilst
the refusal to recognize it must be despicable, though it may
seem to maintain us in a position of superiority.
And herein lies the secret of true humility. It is sometimes supposed that, to be really humble, it is necessary to
view our faults in an extreme, exaggerated light. It is no
such thing. Humility is truth, nothing more nor less. If it
were otherwise, could it be required by the God of Truth? It
is because of our intense blindness, and ignorance, and self-de
228 
PRIDE.
ceit, that we are ever anything but humble; and if we will
only aim at seeing ourselves perfectly truly, owning what is
good in ourselves, just as thoroughly as we do what is bad,
we shall have made the first and most important step towards
humility, because we shall have made it in the way of truth.
The miserable nothingness of our best actions, the paltry
weakness which mingles with, or follows them, the infinite
distance between our goodness and God's perfection-it is
very helpful, very salutary, to realize all this; but. in order
to do it, we must see all our actions in their rightful proportions. It is " distance which lends enchantment to the view"
which we take of ourselves. Look more closely, and the enchantment will cease.   If we can, therefore, teach children
from infancy to value truth above all things, we shall find that
we have engaged the support of a most powerful weapon
against the pride which refuses to own itself in the wrong,
and though it may submit in action, cannot bring itself to acknowledgment in words. The lesson is to be inculcated less
by compulsion than by the respect shown to candour and humility. If a child refuses to own that she has been in fault, it
is in vain to insist upon her doing so.  A sullen acknowledgment, extorted by the dread of punishment, is valueless. Under such circumstances, we have nothing to do but to show by
our manner that our esteem is lessened. Quiet coldness and
indifference will often be efficacious, when exhortation and reproof will fail. But we must never be tempted to accept the
acknowledgment shown by action in lieu of that of words. It
is often an easy mode of escaping a difficulty, but it will be
fatal to the child's future good. Heartburnings, rancour, bitter memories, will all be laid up in store for the after years of
those who have never learnt to say in open, honest, honourable
words, "I was wrong."   The practical atonement of a life
will never have the effect of that one short sentence.
"And David said unto Nathan, I have sinned against the
Lord. And Nathan said unto David, The Lord also hath put
away thy sin."'
2 Sam. xii. 13.
29 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
And this acknowledgment, it must be remembered, cannot
be allowed to be comparative. Two children quarrel-the
dispute is brought before the mother; one will perhaps own
herself to have been in fault, but she cannot be induced to
come forward and make an apology, because the provocation
was greater on the other side. This kind of excuse must at
once be stopped. In so far as she was wrong, the acknowledgment is demanded. The amount of offence on the other side
does not affect her duty. This is the way to carry out the
apostolic command, "If it be possible, as much as lieth in
you, live peaceably with all men." 1
But there are other forms of pride besides that which exhibits itself in the refusal to acknowledge a fault. Pride of
family and station, and pride of talent, or conceit, are equally
common, though perhaps less generally condemned.  The former, indeed, is looked upon as a kind of natural weakness;
the world may scoff at it behind its back, but it does homage
before its face. We often find it even considered as an heirloom, a family inheritance, which, like some peculiarity of
form or feature, though not in itself to be admired, is still
worthy of respect from its antiquity. The names of particular
individuals are associated with it, and they are spoken of as
excellent, delightful, admirable, and with only the one pardonable weakness belonging to the family-pride.
When this pride exists in the elders of a family, it is almost hopeless to attempt to root it out in the children, or even
to lessen it, by any other means than that one great counteractive to all folly-truth.
It is perfectly true that God has implanted in us a regard
for social distinction, even independent of moral worth. It is
equally true that this distinction can be handed down from
parents to children, and that the longer it has lasted the more
valuable in the eyes of the world it becomes. This fact is recognized in Scripture. God chose not Abraham alone, J)ut
Abraham and his posterity. The priesthood was confined to
2 Rom. xii. 18.
230 
PRIDE.
the family of Levi. The tribe of Judah was the royal tribe.
But these were outward and social, not personal, distinctions;
-meaning by personal, belonging to the individual inward
being. The fact that Eli's sons were priests increased, rather
than lessened, their degradation. The fact that Judah was
the royal tribe did not save individual members of the tribe
from the punishment of sin. The folly of family pride begins
when this idea of social is confounded with that of personal
superiority; when one man looks down upon another, and
places himself above him in his own secret estimation, because
his acquaintance, though equally well educated, and well bred,
cannot reckon back the same number of noble or gentle ancestors.
Now in this, as in every other case, we shall fail if we endeavour to cure a fault by a falsehood. We can never make
the child of a nobleman humble, by denying that there is any
social superiority attached to nobility, because the moment
intercourse with the world begins, our lessons will be practicably confuted. What is required is, that this social distinction should be valued for what it is worth, and no more. As
regards this world, it is worth a great deal, for there are many
privileges attached to it. It ensures the possessor outward respect, it gains him admittance to palaces, and to the houses of
the wealthy and luxurious. It will secure for him deference
on public occasions. He will walk first in processions; his
society will be courted, and in difficult circumstances his
claims will probably be first attended to. In some instances
he will probably be more mercifully judged than his less distinguished fellow-creatures. As it will be supposed that he
has greater temptations, so, if he should give way to them,
there will be more excuses made for him, and if he should escape them he will be more admired and respected. These are
pleasant things, and by no means unimportant, therefore let
them be acknowledged. And even if there should be no nobility, yet the fact of belonging to a family which has for years
held an honourable position will procure nearly the same priv
231 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
ileges. When men and women meet in the world, they cannot all go first; and so far as it is a satisfaction to be amongst
the number of those who are put foremost and treated with
deference, so far it is an advantage to belong to an old
fatmily.
And doubtless also there is something better than this in
inherited dignity. It is the type of that only true dignity
which is ours as the children of God; and when social superiority is acknowledged, as bringing with it a special moral
responsibility, it can do us no harm to recognize it. For then
we shall try our fellow-crcatures by the same standard as we
try ourselves, and family pride will disappear, whilst family
respect will remain. God's standard will be ours. What He
reckons of importance will be of importance to us; and every
worldly honour tested by the touchstone of that which must be
its end-even Death-will dwindle to its true proportion.
All this cannot be taught to children by words.  We may
exhort, and lecture; we may exclaim with Wolsey, " Vain
pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye;" but if we do not
practise what we preach, in this instance more perhaps than in
any other, our words will be utterly without effect. For the
education of children upon this point is carried on, for the most
part, without our being aware of it. Passing observations
made in their presence rest in their minds. Discussions as to
whose society may be cultivated and whose may not, are
listened to by them with the utmost interest. Little practical
neglects or slights shown to persons not quite in the same
grade are noticed. The fact that they are allowed to be intimate with people of a certain rank, though they may be neither
estimable nor agreeable, whilst the society of others who have
far more intrinsic worth is avoided, must excite inquiry as to
the cause. And these are the things which educate. Young
persons may read their Bibles regularly, they may learn texts
upon humility, and be told that God " resisteth the proud, and
giveth grace to the humble;" they may even have the examnple
of their lowly Saviour pointed out to them, and listen to elo
232 
PRIDE.
quent exhortations upon His life; and, more than all, they
may be taught to show great kindness to the poor, with whom
there is no question of competition; and yet the exclusiveness
which they daily see practised as regards those whose social
position approximates to their own, will counteract all these
lessons, and they will grow up proud, in the midst of what is
supposed to be an atmosphere of humility.
The task of uprooting family pride is, it need scarcely
be said, most difficult. Yet to minds bent upon serving God
it cannot be impossible. The tendency to this weakness-to
call it by no harsher name-is so universal, that we  can
scarcely err in keeping a perpetual check upon it, and constantly reminding ourselves of its folly. The trials of life
must, sooner or later, give it rude though salutary shocks, but
only principle can ultimately prevail against it.  Perhaps
negative correction is better qpon the whole than positive.
Instead of declaiming against pride, let attentions be shown to
those who are really worthy of them, without reference to their
pedigree. And let these attentions be respectful, not condescending. Show young people that nobility receives honour
by intercourse with those whom God values; and never for a
moment let rank be allowed to assume the privilege which is
by some persons attributed to charity, and " covers a multitude of sins."
By these means we may, through God's help, at length
succeed in destroying the overbearing and absurd self-estimation which is known by the name of family pride; and reduce
it to that simple regard for social differences which is necessary in order to prevent society, as it is now constituted, from
becoming a confused, lawless struggle for personal precedence.
233 
CHAPTER XIX.
PRIDE (continued).
BUT if the world is merciful to family pride, still more leniently does it view intellectual pride. It affects, indeed, to
laugh at conceit, but no one who watches the course of events
will fail to see that conceit does, in the end, gain the day.
The price which a man puts upon himself is in general that
which the world, at least in his own generation, puts upon
him. Not, indeed, meaning by the world the thinking, sensible portion of the community, but the world in its large sense,
including that vast majority who know not what they admire, or why they admire, but applaud simply because others
do so.
And even those who profess to be, and really are, thoughtful and reasonable, will often defend the pride of talent, as if
it was a very pardonable fault, scarcely, indeed, to be called
one, because talent is in itself something worthy of admiration.
No doubt genius and talent, of whatever kind, are gifts
from God, the highest which He bestows, independent of that
gift of His Holy Spirit, the fruits of which constitute moral
and religious worth. But they can in no sense be called our
own, for they are bestowed without reference to our will.
They are, in fact, treasures lent for a special purpose, in like
manner as wealth, or beauty, or social position, or any other
advantage. And will has no power over them, except in regard to their exercise. No man can will himself to be a won 
PRIDE.
derful composer, or a great poet. Genius cannot increase
itself; and for those who have only talent, they can but
labour with such earnestness to improve the power originally
bestowed, that it may be cultivated to its highest extent.
This question of will forms an essential distinction between
intellectual and moral gifts. God has, in His great mercy,
vouchsafed to establish a connection between the human will
and the gift of His grace. The more we will or desire to obtain that grace, the more it will be granted us; and it is this
effort of will in the acquirement and practical use of grace
which He vouchsafes to call goodness, and promises to re.
ward. And so far as we will or desire to use God's gifts of
intellect for His glory, and patiently labour to cultivate and
improve them, so far they have in them a moral worth. But
this use of intellect is quite independent of its amount. The
dull child, who conscientiously plods over her lesson, and needs
an hour to acquire it perfectly, exercises a much greater amount
of will than the clever child, who reads it over twice, and then
repeats it without a fault; and she is therefore the more worthy
of respect.
But the world will not see or own this; neither, in the generality of cases, will the child herself. Mental gifts are at first
sight so entirely one with the individual to whom they are entrusted, that it requires a real effort of mind to view them
apart. And when the world makes an idol of talent, it can
scarcely be a matter of marvel that the fortunate owner of the
treasure should lend himself to the almost universal delusion,
and in the end prostrate himself before what he conceives to be
his own image, and become a self-worshipper.
Here, again, truth is the only safeguard. God forbid that
we  should despise or depreciate intellect or talent!   That
which comes direct from God must be in itself most precious.
Infinitely small as the powers of the highest human intellect
must be when compared with the Wisdom of Omniscience, still
they are in their nature the same; and we must, we cannot
but reverence them.
235 
PRINOIPLES OF EDUOATION.
The sin of intellectual pride does not consist in admiration
of intellect; and the folly of conceit is not to be found in the
acknowledgment and appreciation of powers which have really
been bestowed. It is when intellect is looked upon in the same
light as moral goodness, and the extent and importance of talent are over-estimated, that sin and folly creep in.
The worship of intellect is one of the great sins of the present day. We see it in the reverence openly expressed for genius and talent, whatever may be the use to which they are
applied.  Scarcely any one hesitates to say-" Such a person
is delightful: rather good for nothing, possibly unprincipled;
but then so clever-he must be forgiven." Hearing such
observations sometimes carries the mind onward beyond this
little world, with its infinitesimally small amount of knowledge, its far-off approach to truth and wisdom, or even to that
which seems peculiarly earthly-wit-the perception of incongruous analogies-and as there is something very overwhelming in the endeavour to grasp, even for one instant, the distance
between the earth and the nearest fixed star; so thought, when
it looks beyond this world, finds it yet more overwhelming
to contemplate the distance between Newton, Shakespeare,
or Bacon, and-Omniscience. And if we regard any inferior
intellect, it is so diminished by the juxtaposition as to require
a mental microscope to discover it.
And then to hear people talk of this wonderful human
intellect, this astonishing talent, these marvellous powers-it
really verges upon the ludicrous! They are no doubt marvellous, just as a child's powers of motion are marvellous; but
the marvel is in kind, not in degree. That we should be able
to think at all, to grasp abstract truth, to comprehend scientific principles, is most wonderful; but the degrees of these
powers, the amount which one man possesses more than
another, require calculations so minute that they can only
be of importance on this side the grave.
Pass it-and Sir Isaac Newton and the little infant who
236 
PRIDE.
drew but one breath, and then died, must equally stand amaz ed and confounded before the Omniscience of God.
Worship of intellect as intellect, is, in fact, an earthly delu sion. It cannot stand the test of truth, and, therefore, if we
desire to check it, we have simply to bring it to that test, by
asking not what clever and scientific and so-called wise men
can know or do, but what they cannot. The little infant thinks
itself wonderful, because it can crawl across the room on its
hands and knees.  Place it at the foot of Mlont Blanc, and
then bid it ascend to the summit, and where will be its self admiration?
These considerations may be further enforced by a fact,
which at once places moral power on a higher elevation than
mental, even regarding them both intellectually.
Each is alike a gift from God, each is an emanation from
His perfection.
But moral powers, in so far as they are perfect, are so
absolutely; whilst mental powers can never be anything but
indefinitely comparative.
A child who speaks truth, does that which-let it be said
with all reverence-cannot, in so far as it is simple truth, be surpassed even by God himself. But the astronomer who calculates
the distances of the fixed stars has not approached within the
faintest calculable nearness to God's knowledge. Angels in
their perfect innocence bear an absolute resemblance to their
Maker; but when we inquire as to their wisdom, we are told
that God " charges them with folly."
These truths must be seen by ourselves before we can hope
to inculcate them upon our children. The generality of persons overlook them, and probably will continue to do so. For
the worship of intellect is far too subtle a snare of the tempter
ever to be allowed to fall into neglect.  No effective rules or
hints can be given as regards saving children from the delusion, if we are possessed of it ourselves, for we shall transmit
it to them unconsciously. And it will work in their lives, and
bring its fatal results of wilfulness, false principles, too often of
237 
PRINOIPLES OF EDUCATION.
grievous sins; but we shall never trace them to their source,
because we have never discovered it in ourselves. If, on the
other hand, we have been happily saved from it, or are striving
against it, we shall view it in its true light, and our first effort
will be to show it truly to our children. A few strong words
may stamp the lesson upon them for life. For there is that in the
heart of the young which cannot fail to respond to us. They
know-we all know-that God does not value any human being for his intellectual powers.  They know-we all knowthat these powers will at the last day rise up to our condemnation if they have not been used for God's service. Both reason and conscience whisper that the gates of Heaven may
hereafter be opened to the unlettered but humble peasant,
and barred against the world-renowned philosopher, who seeks
admittance in his pride; and thinking of these things, and
remembering those most  awful words, " Unto whomsoever
much is given, of him shall be much required," l it may be
that the children, thus early warned, will escape the snare of
intellect-worship, and make it their primary object not to be
celebrated authors or scientific discoverers, " but to do justly,
and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with their God." 2
Place God first, and talent falls into its right place, and
harmony and beauty are the result.
Place intellect first, and, hard though it may seem to say,
we do but yield to the temptation through which angels fell,
and by which, if we give way to it, we must one day fall with
them.
But the worship of intellect is, for the most part, the sin
of those who possess intellect. There is another form of intellectual pride, less subtle, but even more common-conceit; a
false estimate both of the powers which have been bestowed,
and of their value in the sight of the world. The discipline
of life is often very efficacious in knocking this folly on the
head. Children brought up at home under the eyes of admiring         parents and friends are very frequently conceited.  Moth          St. Luke xii. 48.' Micah vi. 8.
238 
PRIDE.
ers often talk to their children seriously about not thinking
much of themselves, whilst they exhibit their drawings to
visitors, extol their quickness in language, and repeat the
praises which are bestowed upon them by their masters;
never perceiving that by so doing they are building up with
one hand what they are pulling down with the other. It is
quite sad, indeed, to see how constantly even very little chil dren are literally educated in conceit by the absurd folly of
repeating what are considered their clever sayings and doings
before them. Conceit is one of the faults for which, as it has
been said in a former chapter, a severe treatment is necessary.
A girl who thinks herself well informed may without any cir cumlocution be told that she is ignorant; or one who considers
herself accomplished may be warned that she is but a mere
beginner; and if in consequence she should be out of temper
no harm will result. The object is to lessen her self-estimation, and when this is done she will cease to be angry with
those who made her see the truth. This method of cure is,
however, by no means infallible. Conceit, when ingrained, is
blind, and the operation of mental couching is as doubtful as
that of physical. The imagination luxuriates in a world of its
own; quite different from the true world, and peopled with
images of self under different guises. This is evident from
the absurd exhibitions of conceit, made by persons otherwise
sensible and well judging. The varied forms of this fault can,
indeed, scarcely fail at times to provoke a smile in any one
who looks upon society without taking part in it, so as to be
excited or particularly interested by it. The conversation at a
dinner table will often show the singularly exaggerated view
which particular individuals take of their own peculiar gifts.
A person possessed of some special power, whether intellectual
or only mechanical, will sometimes engross the conversation
as if there was nothing else worth attending to but that which
he himself understands.  A clever lawyer talks as if the whole
world had but one interest, that of getting up cases and settling legal difficulties. A connoisseur in art lays down the law
11
239
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
about painting and sculpture. A musician can talk of nothing
but the comparative merits of different composers. It is not
merely that such persons are drawn out, and led to converse
upon the subject of which they know most, but that they can
converse upon nothing else. The particular profession, accomplishment, or study to which they have devoted themselves,
and for which they have a special aptitude, is the one thing for
the furtherance of which, if one might judge from their conversation, it is to be supposed that the world was created.
Conceit, when thus rooted in a person of mature years, is
perhaps scarcely ever eradicated; partly because its indulgence
has become a habit, and partly also, and more especially, because, as people advance in life, no one, or scarcely any one,
has the courage to tell them of their faults and follies. The
more important, therefore, it becomes to check them in youth.
There is a chapter in St. Paul's Epistle to the Corinthians,
which, if applied to earthly as well as spiritual gifts, will be
found to contain the essence of all the advice that can be given
on the subject.  The Apostle speaks of the diversities of God's
gifts, and the importance of each separately with reference to
the good of all.  He takes the analogy of the body, and asks,
"If the whole body were an eye, where were the hearing?
If the whole were hearing, where were the smelling?" He
bids us remember that " those members of the body, which
seem to be feeble, are necessary;" and that " God hath tempered the body together, having given more abundant honour
to that part which lacked." 
If these truths could be borne in mind by us all, where
would be the place for conceit?
Granted that we are what the world is pleased to call
clever, accomplished, scientific, or whatever the gift may be,
it is an advantage to be valued truly only by being weighed in
the balance with others. It could not even exist without them.
Very rare, indeed, is it to find any person who has great intellectual gifts in anything like equal proportions. The first                       1 Cor. xii. 17, 22, 24.
j,
240 
PRIDE.
rate mathematician is frequently an illogical reasoner. The
sound reasoner perhaps finds it difficult to master the first
problem in Euclid.
It is the same in everything. We have all gifts of some
kind. If we have not brains in our head, they are generally
found in our fingers; and without the fingers the head would
be very badly off. The balance and comparison of these different advantages, as it will tend to inspirit and cheer those who
are intellectually dull, will be a most wholesome check upon
those who are the reverse.
View a talent relatively, and it may still be estimated
highly, as all God's gifts should be, but conceit will be impossible. The most richly endowed mind of the present age, or
of any age, is only partially so: others also have gifts, and
they have also a claim to respect and consideration.
This is a lesson for the schoolroom-for home life; it must
be learnt by means of constant repetition-perpetual reference
to the advantages bestowed upon the different members of the
same family or household. And should the tendency to conceit exhibit itself in a false estimate of the actual amount,
rather than in the comparative value of the intellectual or
artistic powers, comparison may still be efficaciously employed
to counteract it. Never let clever children compare themselves
with their companions, but always place before them the highest possible standard. B. may do better than A., and C. may
do better than B. The comparison is easily made, but it may
be in a manner neutralized by a plain statement of facts, which
puts C. by the side of Z., and calculates the distance between
them. But even the perception of relative inferiority will not
always destroy conceit.  In one of Miss Edgeworth's clever
stories, she gives an illustration of low social ambition, by
saying that the question lay between being the " first in Craubourne Alley, or the last in Weymouth Street." In the case
to which she referred, Weymouth Street was chosen; but
nine-tenths of the conceit which we meet with in the world
has no desire to rise above Cranbourne Alley.   And so far it
11
241 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
is a wise desire, that it is easily gratified. To be first in the
schoolroom-then in the home circle-then in the small coterie;
to be admired by inferiors, wondered at by those who are no
judges, and to take all this wonder and admiration into our
hearts-to cherish it, look at it, dwell upon it, till we forget
that there is any other praise worth having-is a pleasure
within reach of any person who has even the smallest amount
of what is considered talent. And it can be purchased at a
sacrifice very slight in the eyes of the world. We have but to
reject truth, and consent to receive tribute in falsehood. And
the world for the most part lives upon falsehood; and if there
were no Death, no Grave, and no Judgment to come, it might
continue to do so comfortably enough.
It is only unfortunate that conceit, like everything else belonging to this world, must sooner or later have an end; and
that when we awake in another state of existence, our condition for Eternity will be determined not by the praise of men
based upon falsehood, but upon the Judgment of God, which
has its foundation in truth.
Conceit, then, in all cases, is but miserable weakness and
blind folly. Conceit in women-which is almost always intellectual conceit-is, perhaps, the highest degree of folly, because it has the least ground for its pretensions. This is not
the place for entering upon the vexed and really absurd question as to the relative mental powers of men and women. Abstract theories may be strong, but facts are stronger. Possibly,
women may be capable of doing all that men do; but practically they do not do it. The cause may be physical, social, or
educational-it matters not. Since time began it has been
found that men have been poets, sculptors, painters, metaphysicians, and natural philosophers, in the first degree, and women
in the second. So long as we continue intellect worshippers
this consideration will be very humiliating to women's conceit.
Whether it will be of much importance when we stand before
the Throne of God is quite another question. 
But it is a fact to be remembered, more especially in these
242 
PRIDE.
days, when women are taking so prominent a part in literature, and in social, scientific, and even political discussions.
There are no doubt subjects which women will treat better
than men, because they know more about them. A woman
understands her own sex more thoroughly than a man does.
She knows what will suit them, touch them, help them. She
understands more truly the needs of children; she can enter
more fully into questions of domestic economy and household
management.  But women who aspire to equality with men are
not content with this superiority in their own particular sphere.
They seek to meet men upon some common ground, open to
both; and here it is that they become the victims of an absurd
delusion.   They are able, no doubt, to attain a certain preeminence; that is to say, a very clever woman may, without
difficulty, rival an ordinarily clever man. But she forgets
that the clever man has others greatly superior above him.
First-rate women must be placed side by side with first-rate
men, if we wish to form a true estimate of the relative attainments of the two sexes. But for the most part this is not what
women desire, because it brings before them the unpleasing fact
that in the preeminence which has been accorded them, they
have been treated as the skilful chess-player treats his aspiring but inferior antagonist. The game may be won by the
latter, but before it began both queen and castle were put
aside.
A great deal of the conceit and the paltry ambition which
turns the heads of clever young girls, might probably be
crushed in the bud, if this true distinction between the literary
and scientific fame of men and women were borne in mind.
After all, it is nothing so very great to be the first in Cranbourne Alley. Unless there is some outward call, some necessity about which there can be no mistake, it may be better to
content oneself with being the last in Weymouth Street; with
being a listener and a learner at the feet of our superiors,
rather than the oracle and teacher of those whom we know to
be our inferiors. A true estimate of women's talents would
243 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
probably show that the larger portion exists amongst the per,
sons whose names are unknown; who have had the good sense
to see that they could do their duty as efficiently to others, and
more safely for themselves, as workers, than as teachers.
But there is nothing like a practical lesson on this subject.
Conceit, and thirst for fame and notoriety, are follies which
will never be thoroughly checked by direct advice. A little
practical satire is the only sure cure; and we shall not crush
talent by it, because, if a young girl really has a power which
she ought to use, it will display itself, in spite of the satire.
And the consciousness need not then be dreaded. The one object to be aimed at is truth, and we need never fear to view
gifts truly, or to own that they exist, for unless this is done,
they cannot be turned to good account.
But it will be asked, what is meant by practical satire?
and the answer is-a practical exemplification of ignorance
and carelessness. For instance, young girls who have any
imagination, delight in exercising it by writing. They string
incidents together, and call them stories. and revel in the
power of summoning up the creatures of their fancy, and making them walk, and talk, as if they were living beings.  And
so real are they to them, that they have no perception that
they are not equally real to others. They look at them, as
the child does at the half-dozen strokes forming a dim outline
of a creature with long ears, four legs, and a tail, which it
immediately pronounces to be a donkey, and forthwith proceeds to invest with all a donkey's attractions.
Now, as it would be useless to try and persuade the child
that the rough caricature was not an image of the real animal,
because its imagination provides for all deficiencies; so it is
equally useless to try and persuade these incipient novel writers
that the creations of their brain are merely vague and distorted outlines. To them they are full of life. And so also
with regard to the power of writing. To say to themthat
they know nothing about it is simply to contradict what appears to be the evidence of their senses. They can understand
244 
PRIDE.
their own sentences, and they cannot believe that any difficulty
exists with others. Only one thing will bring them to a con viction of the truth. If they must write, let them do it, but
give them an abstract of history as an exercise; make them
condense facts, and seize upon those which are really impor tant. Insist upon the necessity of agreement between nomina tive cases and verbs. between relatives and their antecedents;
show them how easily, by the misplacement of a word, the
meaning of a sentence may be left open to misconstruction.
Such a practical exemplification of their incapacity will tell
upon them in the end more than any direct criticism. And it
will have the advantage of being silent, and not exciting resentment. The lesson will be taken to heart quietly, and
acted upon. If there is any real talent, the practice of careful
composition will be most useful; and if there is not, there will
be a self-conviction which will ultimately crush the foolish conceit and ambition.
And now, at the close of this inquiry as to the nature and
the various exhibitions of pride, we come back to the conclusion that truth is the foundation stone of humility, the guardian
of self-respect. It may be well to enforce what reason teaches
by an illustration drawn from Scripture, and in no instance is
it so clearly set forth as in the character of the Apostle whom,
more than all others, it has pleased God to bring before us in
his social life, in the trials which accompanied it, and in the
inward struggles which were their necessary result.
Perhaps there are few who, when reading St. Paul's defence of himself, both in his public speeches and in his writings, have not, at times, been inclined to pause, and ask, Is all
this self-appreciation consistent with the humility of a Christian?
"Men and brethren, I have lived in all good conscience
before God until this day." 1 " Herein do I exercise myself, to
have always a conscience void of offence toward God, and toward men." 2  "Neither against the law of the Jews, neither
1 Acts xxiii. 1.           2 Acts xxiv. 16.
245' 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
against the temple, nor yet against Cesar, have I offended any
thing at all." 1
These are the Apostle's bold public declarations of his
moral, religious, and political innocence.
And still more strongly in writing to the Corinthians he
says: " Our rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience,
that in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom,
but by the grace of God, we have had our conversation in
the world;" 2' and, again, we "have renounced the hidden
things of dishonesty, not walking in craftiness, nor handling
the word of God deceitfully; but by manifestation of the truth
commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight
of God."' 3
And when the question is raised as to the extent of his
authority compared with that of others, St. Paul places himself at once on a par " with the very chiefest apostles." He
enumerates his labours and sufferings for Christ's sake with a
minuteness, which seems to awaken a sense of unfitness even
in his own mind; and at length goaded, as it were, by the
consciousness of unjust depreciation, to reveal an honour
which, up to this time, had been secret between himself and
his God; he concludes by relating in words which, if possible,
he would fain save from personal application, his mysterious
assumption into the third Heaven, and the hearing of those
" unspeakable words which it is not lawful for man to utter." 4
And why? What could induce one who was avowedly a
most earnest, if not the most earnest disciple of the lowly
Redeemer of the world, to make this boast of his authority,
of his work, and its reward?
Simply tile necessity of truth.
" I am become a fool in glorying; ye have compelled me:
for I ought to have been commended of you: for in nothing
am I behind the very chiefest apostles, though I be nothing." 5
Those last words speak the real mind of St Paul. Yes,
I Acts xxv. 8.
2 Cor. xii. 4.
3 2  Cor. iv. 2.
6 2 Cor. xii. 11.
246
1 2 Cor. i. 12. 
PRIDE.
he could bear to look all fully in the face;-his natural powers, his supernatural gifts, his position in the Church, his
energy and endurance, his self-denial and courage. He shrank
from the acknowledgment of none of these things.
For he stood before the world as the child of a peasant
might stand when elected to a throne; dressed in the robes of
royalty, and receiving the homage due to the position in which
he had been placed; but never for one moment forgetting that
in himself,-his birth, his power, his qualifications, his own
strength and ability, he was-what he had always been-nothing.
Let us love truth as St. Paul loved it, and we also shall
look without shrinking at our virtues, our talents, or our social
preeminence, because, like him, we shall own that glorying
is folly.
2417 
CHAPTER XX.
VANITY.
SELFISHNESS and pride are undoubtedly the two faults to
counteract which truth may be most effectively employed. It
is sometimes supposed that vanity may be reached by the same
means; but this idea seems to have arisen from the common
mistake of confusing it with conceit. Vanity is an inordinate
love of admiration, conceit is inordinate self-esteem.
Conceit may be, and often is, accompanied by vanity, but
there is no necessary connection between them. A person
may have an overweening estimate of his own powers, and
yet, from the very fact, be rendered comparatively indifferent
to what is said of him. Whilst, on the contrary, a vain person may be quite aware that his talents are small, and yet be
continually looking out for, and thirsting for praise.
And because vanity is not so open to correction by truth
as pride is, therefore, as it would seem, it is more difficult to
eradicate it. We often hear it said, " Intercourse with others
will knock the conceit out of such a person," and the remark
describes a very wholesome discipline, which, probably, we
have all, more or less, undergone at some period of our lives.
But vanity was never yet knocked out of any one. It has a
clinging, creeping nature, which defies rough blows; and its
vitality is marvellous. Cut it down in one form, and it will
spring up in another; attempt to destroy it by destroying the
conceit on which it fed, and it will give up conceit, and take
the garb of humility. If it cannot attract attention by dis 
VANIITY.
playing virtues, it will by confessing faults; the one thing it
cannot endure is to be unnoticed.
Now, any one who thinks at all upon the subject will see
at once that the endeavour to uproot a fault like this by any
external process is simply hopeless.  The more we work at it,
the more it will grow. And the attempt is made even more
difficult by the fact that the germ of vanity, love of approba tion, is innocent and involuntary. Not to feel pleasure in
approbation, supposing it to be deserved, is impossible. Of
course, when there is a consciousness that if the true facts
were known, it would be seen to be unmerited, a very true
mind will regret it, and feel pain at receiving it. But in or dinary cases, as, for instance, when praise is bestowed by a
parent upon a child who has been diligent or obedient, the
pleasure is not only permissible, but if it were not felt, the
character would be imperfect. Here, however, we must distinguish between approbation and admiration. To be approved implies that we have set some standard before us, and
have in a measure succeeded in attaining it; the praise which
is accorded us is therefore based upon moral grounds, and is
not absolute, but comparative. A parent approves a child for
being attentive at her lesions, but it does not follow that the
child is a marvel of genius.  And approval also implies that
the person who approves is in a condition to form a judgment;
the approbation of one who is really ignorant or prejudiced
cannot really be a gratification.
So far, then, love of approbation is consistent with thoroughly earnest and religious principle. But we may go yet
further, and acknowledge that even when this love of approbation takes, as it so continually does, the form of love of admiration, or the praise which is given to any gift or quality for
its own sake, apart from the attempt to reach a higher standard of perfection; yet in its first motions it is innocent, because
it is involuntary, and it is only the consent of the will which
makes any feeling sinful or the reverse. A person who pos
249 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
sesses some gift of beauty or talent cannot, as a general rule,
avoid feeling pleasure in words of admiration.
But here the innocent love of admiration stops, and vanity
steps in.  For vanity is a reflex act of the mind.  It takes the
pleasure excited by the consciousness of admiration, and endeavours to retain it by thinking of and dwelling upon the
praise received.  This excites a morbid, exaggerated desire
for a renewal of the admiration, and various methods are in
consequence resorted to, in order to attain it. Again, the enjoyment is prolonged and increased by reflection, and a fresh
stimulus is given to the thirst for it; and so vanity becomes a
habit of mind.
Now, there are a few general rules to be given as regards
this fault, most difficult to put in practice, but the least relaxation of which will probably be fatal to improvement.
We cannot hope merely to check vanity, we must actually
uproot it. It must be dealt with in the same way as those
noxious spreading weeds which we tear out of the ground, not
venturing to leave a fibre behind, lest the plant should grow
again.
Very few there are probably who will accept this teaching.
It demands an effort which can only be made in God's strength,
and with a full sincerity of will.  And with the majority will
is weak. Better it seems to fight with a foe feebly, for years,
sometimes victorious, oftener subdued, but trusting in the end
to be conquerors, than by one vigorous-surely we may call it
superhuman-effort, to grapple with and destroy him at once.
Vanity is a great fault we think, but there is so much in it that
is involuntary, we can scarcely call it a sin. We see it in such
really good people;-people who are charitable, and self-denying, and deeply devotional,-so much better in many ways
than others who do not appear vain.
Granted-all except the assertion that itis not a sin. It is
a sin, for it loves the praise of men rather than the praise of
God; and because of this love in its most exaggerated form,
the Pharisees, we are told, rejected our Lord. And no one,
250 
VANIr.rY.
probably, who has earnestly set himself to the task of self-improvement, and is conscious of being naturally vain, will hesitate to confess that it is the fault which, from its extreme insidiousness, has given him more trouble than any other; that
it has marred his best inclinations, and destroyed the happiness
of his holiest moments; that it has, in fact, pursued him like a
deadly enemy through life, appearing under the most unlookedfor circumstances, and concealing itself under forms in which
nothing but a most strict examination could detect it.
And if this is the confession of those who struggle earnestly,
what must be the history of those who fight feebly; who have
allowed vanity to grow, and spread, till it has actually covered the whole surface of the character, and eaten into itcorroded it, till there is not a single good feeling untainted
by it?
The truth is that we cannot be too severe, either with ourselves or with others, when we are dealing with vanity; or, in
other words, the pleasure derived from the reflex act of the
mind upon admiration which has been offered us. The few
definite rules already referred to will, therefore, it may be
hoped, assist young people in their struggle with it, even
though they may be inclined to call them, at first sight, hopelessly strict.
We may advise them, in the first place, never to ask what
any person thinks of them, or has said about them.
Secondly. If they are told-never to repeat the same to
their companions, whether the remarks imply praise or blame.
Thirdly. Never, if they can avoid it, to look at any letter
or writing in which they know that admiration has been expressed of anything they have said or done.
Fourthly. When they have been admired for anything
which they have said or done, or for their personal appearance, never to repeat such admiration to themselves over
again. The very instant the memory of it recurs it should
be checked, even as a profane or impure thought.  This will
be the greatest difficulty of all at first, and yet, in the end, it
251
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
will become easy, from the working of that law of association
which is the basis of what we call habit. When the thought
of admiration is recognized as a temptation, conscience will
give the warning, and at last, almost without effort, it will,
from habit, be instantly crushed.
Exceptions to these rules may, perhaps, be thought necessary as regards the praise of parents and persons set in authority. But, in fact, such praise is of a different character from
that of which we have been speaking. It is approbation, not
admiration; and pleasure derived from approbation, or the
consciousness that we have tried to do right or well, and that
our efforts are acknowledged, is quite permissible.   God
vouchsafes to approve us, but  He  can never admire us.
When, however, home approval takes the form of admiration,
as it not unfrequently does, it is the most dangerous kind of
incentive to vanity, and must be crushed as mercilessly as any
other temptation.
A child may make a clever copy of a drawing and be
praised for it, and may justly feel pleased at the approbation,
and even think of it again with a sense of encouragement; but
if she is told that she is a wonderful artist, and dwells upon
the thought, she must become vain.
Closely connected with this ruminating faculty, by which
we feed upon admiration for weeks or months after it has been
received, is that of day-dreams, the most common enjoyment
of young people with any imagination, and perhaps the most
dangerous.
Here, again, the rule seems so rigid that one is tempted to
relax it. But it would be false kindness. The mischief of
day-dreams is that, in some form or other, they make self the
centre. It is a very singular power which we possess, that of
separating ourselves, as it were, into two persons, one in
imagination acting and talking, and the other actually admiring and praising; though, as will generally be the case, under
some disguise which, for the moment, conceals the fact that it
is only, after all, self-admiration.
252 
VANITY.
We are not called upon now to enter into a metaphysical
disquisition as to the mode in which these powers act, nor the
purposes for which they were given us; what we are at pres ent concerned with is, the use which is so commonly made of
them for the gratification of vanity. Young people deceive
themselves grievously upon this matter. They suppose that
because in imagination they act nobly and virtuously, therefore their thoughts are not evil, but, on the contrary, lead to
the encouragement of good. But they have only to ask themselves in what the pleasure of the indulgence in these virtuous
day-dreams consists. Certainly not in the contemplation of
the virtue in itself, for it is comparatively little pleasure to
them to think of noble actions performed by other persons. It
is the act of reflecting upon self, or in other words, the gratification of vanity, which is so agreeable. And this falsity, this
reflecting upon actions which have no existence, except in
imagination, will bear the necessary and fatal fruit of all falsity. It will, unless checked, in the end make the whole inward character false, though the outward actions may, for the
time, and perhaps always, in some degree, continue true. A
person inwardly devoured by vanity may never be so degraded
as to tell actual falsehoods, but the self-deceit which vanity
engenders will inevitably lead to many things approaching
to it.
And for these reasons-the consideration of the present
evil and future results of day-dreams-the only advice which
can safely be given to young persons, or, indeed, to any person,
is to crush them.
It may be well, however, to add, that there is a safe, legitimate use of imagination, with which self has nothing to do.
We see it in the works of literature and art, and in the enjoyment which such works give, even to those who cannot produce them themselves. There is no evil, or comparatively
none, in dwelling with delight upon the scenes and characters
of fiction, so long as they are worthy of admiration.  The.danger in that case is lest we mistake virtuous emotions for virtu
253 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
ous actions; and because we can sympathize with what is
good, may be led to suppose that we are good ourselves. But
it is not till we become the heroes and heroines of our own
novels that vanity enters, and imagination leads to sin.
Again, it may be owned that the rules which have been
laid down upon the subject of vanity are very rigid; but they
have one great advantage-they are plain; they can be understood and grasped. Young people work at their own minds,
and examine, and analyze, and perplex themselves, and cannot, after all, make out what is right or what is wrong, where
good ends and evil begins; whereas, if they can only be told to
do something-act, or not act-speak, or not speak-exercise
self-discipline in some form over which they have a distinct
control, they will eventually find that the mind has, if one may
so speak, come right of itself. In all cases it is the will which
is in fault. The will put into action, either physical or mental,
gains strength, and as the will is rectified all the different complex qualities which make up human nature fall into right
order and proportion.
Connected with this subject of vanity is the question as to
the legitimate use of emulation. St. Paul appears to consider
it permissible when he says, " Know ye not that they which
run in a race run all, but one receiveth the prize? So run,
that ye may obtain." 1 But, on the other hand, the Heavenly
rewards to which he points are many, and within reach of all.
The truth seems to be that emulation, when it desires to obtain
the highest prize, is justifiable; when it desires to surpass
others, is not so. If, therefore, we have recourse to the stimulus, we must say, not " the one or two who stand first in the
list shall be rewarded because they are first;" but " every one
who attains a certain standard shall have a certain reward."
This will direct ambition solely to the attainment of the prize,
and the question of surpassing others will become unimportant.
But vanity, especially with girls, is most frequently per                         I 1 Cor. ix. 24.
254 
VAN=.
sonal. Yet young people must be taught to dress well, or
they become disagreeable to their friends, and if they are
pretty they will naturally expect admiration.  This creates a
difficulty. Some very excellent moralists, perplexed upon this
point, seek to cut the Gordian knot by forbidding the use of a
looking-glass, so that beauty may not be able to see itself.
Others institute a species of crusade against dress, and object
to everything bright in colour, or fashionable in make. The
greater number, however, content themselves with lectures and
warnings, and finding these for the most part useless, quietly
give up the attempt to stem the evil, and say " all girls are
vain of beauty and have a taste for dress, and one can but hope
that some day or other they will see the folly of it." But
here again we must go back to the first principle of all things
-truth.
If beauty really is beautiful, if God has made it a thing to
be delighted in, and if the loveliness of a woman is, as almost
all persons allow, the most attractive object upon which the
eve can rest, then to attempt to deny or conceal that beauty is
worthy of admiration, is, simply, to contradict nature.
And so, also, with regard to dress. The appreciation of it,
as something important, is an instinct, and is recognized even
in Scripture. The dress of the Jewish High Priest, and of the
Priests generally, was, indeed, a subject for minute legislation;
whilst under the Christian dispensation our Blessed Lord, in
the parable of the Prodigal Son, mentions the " best robe" as
the especial outward mark of a parent's forgiveness and restored love. No one, therefore, can presume to say that dress
is a matter of no consequence-to be attended to or neglected
at will.
Beauty is, then, to be admired, and dress is of consequence.
Having arrived at these conclusions, we may safely proceed
further, and say that it is as wrong to attempt to bring up
children upon a falsity on this subject, as it is upon any other.
If a child is to learn to be usefal, she must learn to dress herself; if she is to do this properly, she must look in a glass;
255
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
and if she looks in a glass, she must see herself as she is.
Therefore to endeavour to deceive her upon this point is silly.
But there is a vast (distinction between the consciousness
that we possess a gift and the value which we put upon it. And
it is here that, probably with truth, it may be said that ninetenths of the well-intentioned mothers, or aunts, or friends, who
have the care of children in their infancy, practically educate
them in vanity.
When a woman marries-supposing her heart to be really
in her home with her husband and children-the vanity which
she originally possessed, be it great or small, very frequently
leaves the obnoxious form of a desire for personal admirationand takes that of delight in seeing her children admired. Such
a feeling can scarcely be called vanity. There is so little of
self in it that it often becomes most touching and winning; but
it is not, therefore, safe if indulged without caution. A mother
with a lovely child longs, very naturally, to have its picture.
The picture is brought home, and instead of being kept for the
mother's eye, or for those of her friends, it is shown to the little
original as its likeness.  No one supposes that the tiny creature
who can scarcely speak plain has any perception of beauty, or
can tell the meaning of the word pretty. But it is a great
mistake; the child has eyes, and is subject to the laws of association just as much as its mother.   It has already learnt
that "pretty dog," and " pretty cat," are creatures to be petted, and made much of; and so when it hears a picture called
pretty, and is told that it is itself, it of course learns that the
self is, in like manner, to be admired and delighted in for its
beauty.
This is the first lesson in vanity. The child sees that its
parents think a great deal of beauty, and of course she learns
to estimate it herself in the same degree.
But it may be said: even if parents are sensible upon these
points, friends and acquaintances are not.
How is it possible to guard against the foolish, incautious
256 
257
admiration which every child is exposed to, and which is fre quently exaggerated, simply to please the parents?
It is not possible to guard against it. We may as well
acknowledge that fact at once.   Children will hear beauty
talked about, and so learn its importance, and if they possess
it themselves they will receive thoughtless admiration. But
it is the home flattery which does the mischief. Home is a
child's world, and if beauty is not considered a matter of great
consequence there, the danger of the world's admiration will be
materially lessened.
If we wish children not to think about beauty, our best
plan is not to think about it ourselves; or if we do think, not
to talk; or if we must talk, to speak truth. To tell a pretty
child that she is plain, though we may do so with the best
intentions, is to sin by speaking falsely, and to prepare the
way for an exaggerated satisfaction when the real state of
the case is discovered. A little girl, in her simplicity, asks:
" Mamma, am I pretty? Mrs. So-and-So says that I am."
And the answer may be: " Yes, my dear; I think that you
are rather nice looking." And there the conversation may be
dropped; and this quiet indifference will check the rising vanity far more than a lecture upon the folly of valuing beauty,
which will probably only have the effect of impressing upon
the mind that a fact which requires so many cautionary words
must be of considerable consequence.
The language of Scripture seems in a measure to confirm
this advice. We are frequently told of beauty. Sarah, we
know, was " very fair;" so also were Rebekah and Rachel,
and the daughters of Job: and throughout the Bible beauty is
always mentioned as an advantage, as something to be valued;
but it is never dwelt upon. It takes its place as a passing
good, and then the attention is directed to something else.
And this is really the place which it holds in the world.
For a time it has great power, but only for a time. In a
vast number of cases its influence is neutralized by the want
of other charms; and even if combined with talent and good
VA,Nrry. 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
ness, it must soon fade.  Young people will not see or understand this, but if they find that it is the opinion of the persons
to whom they look up, they will insensibly adopt the same view
of it.
The love of dress is another of those follies which children
are for the most part systematically educated in from childhood, and for which it is considered a duty to censure them in
youth. So long as parents spend large sums in dressing up
their little ones in handsome ribbons, and elaborate embroidery, and send them down to the drawing-room to be admired
by visitors, who tell them to show their pretty sashes and
bright shoes-so long children will like dress, and think a
great deal about it. It is really not their fault, it is simply a
case of cause and effect, sowing and reaping. People attach
such an overweening value to words, and such a very insufficient value to acts. A right principled mother would on no
account bring up her daughter to think much of dress, but she
is proud of her, and wishes her to equal others in appearance;
so, without saying anything direct upon the subject, she, perhaps, makes a great point of procuring some pretty, or possibly
handsome, dress for her, the colour and texture of which are
talked of con amore. The interview with the dressmaker is
one of the great events of the week; the question as to the
trimming is a topic of conversation for days; the dress, when
finished, is tried on, and the young lady is turned and twisted
about, perhaps for an hour, till even her vanity can scarcely
bear the ordeal. Then she is told that the dress looks very
well, that it is very becoming, and, as a reward for her patience, she is permitted to take one look at herself in the glass;
and bears away with her the impression of a very elegant,
fashionable looking creature, who will form an enchanting
heroine for her next day-dream.
This ceremony is repeated, though with much greater attention, and consequent excitement, when the dress is actually to be
exhibited in public; but when at length the adjusting andlmproving are at an end, and the daughter is allowed to depart, the
258 
VANrrY.
mother wakes up to the perception of a certain air of self consciousness and stiffness, if not of actual affectation; and
conscience whispering something about vanity and its danger,
she exclaims: " Now, my dear, you have looked at yourself
enough! The dress does very well; go away, and don't think
about yourself. After all, you know it is of much more con sequence how you behave than how you look!" Or, as Mrs.
Primrose admirably condensed the maternal warning, "Hand some is that handsome does. Hold up your heads, my dears!"
But the home lesson of vanity is not over. The party takes
place, and the next day forms a topic of conversation. Still
dress is the most engrossing subject. The mother does not
actually talk to her child about her own appearance, but she
criticizes that of every one else, and of course the daughter
does the same. There may be nothing ill-natured in what is
said, possibly quite the reverse.   Amiable, imaginative persons take pleasure in viewing their friends picturesquely; and
to the young girl it is almost as pleasant as a novel to recall
the bright party, and to picture to herself in detail the lovely
silks, and the rich lace, and the splendid ornaments, which
are all brought before her again in such minute and glowing
detail.
Half the pleasure of a party, as every one knows, is in
talking it over the next day. And the mother feels that she
ought to enter into her daughter's pleasure, and is quite certain that she desires to see her simple and unworldly; and she
herself devotes so much time to duties of religion and charity,
and gives so many warnings against vanity; no wonder she is
quite deluded by her own good intentions, and when the conversation ends is not in the least aware that she has been just
as sedulously employed for the last hour in cultivating a taste
for dress in her daughter, as she would have been if she had
deliberately given her a lecture upon its extreme importance,
and urged her to devote all her thoughts to it.
Now, if the mother had openly said at the beginning, "My
dear, I like you to look well, and to be dressed like other peo
259
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
pie, and so I have bought the prettiest dress I could find, and
intend to have it made fashionably," there would have been an
open straightforward avowal of a natural object, which would
have checked any personal excitement upon the subject. The
dress might have been tried and fitted as a matter of business;
worn, as a matter of course; and then laid aside, not to be
thought of till the next occasion. And if the young lady had
thus been taught to trouble herself but little about her own
dress, she would naturally have cared but little about that of
her friends. It is the unconscious comparison which is the
stimulating ingredient in all these topics. Put self aside, and
we shall think but very little of them.
It must be remembered, also, that attention to dress may
be a duty, and inattention to it a real fault. The latter is
sometimes a form of indolence, or selfishness, or love of singularity, or possibly-vanity in another shape. And there are
also many young people to whom dress is a trouble and difficulty. They like to see themselves look well; but they do
not, in the least, know how to attain their object. And so,
perhaps, they give up the attempt, and acquiesce in slovenliness
and untidiness. There is no virtue in this. To dress neatly
and well that is, in good taste-is a social duty. We have
no right to offend our friends by looking ugly when, by a little
trouble, we can avoid it.  And in the numerous cases in which
inaptitude for dress exists, it would be a real kindness on the
part of mothers, and nurses, and elder sisters, to take a little
trouble and give a few lessons, instead of-what is so often
tried unsuccessfully-scolding and reproof. An awkward or
near-sighted girl spends perhaps half-an-hour before her glass,
endeavouring to make her hair look nice; but it is all in vain,
and when she appears at the breakfast table she is received
with stern looks, and told to go upstairs and put her hair tidy.
But what is the use of the command?  She cannot try more
than she has tried, and her temper is irritated, and a storm
ensues. A little instruction-which is quite as necessary for
the hands as the head-would have shown her how it was she
260 
VANITY.
failed, and all the worry and temper would have been avoided.
Some girls would be morally much the better for a few lessons
from a hairdresser or a lady's maid. It would save them from
self-consciousness, and in the end make them think far less
about dress. What we know we do badly, and yet are ex pected to do well, must become a burden to us; and young
people often dwell upon their own appearance for a whole
evening, when they have a bow or a brooch awry; not in the
least because they care for the fact in itself, but merely from
the uncomfortable feeling that they will be noticed.
To be particular about dress may, therefore, become a
matter of self-discipline, just as much as to endeavour to think
little of it. But in this, as in every case, we shall find that the
true statement of a definite object is a great moral safeguard.
Whether we desire young people to dress well, or in any other
way to follow the customs of the world, if we only compel our selves to state our wishes in plain words, we shall do but little
harm, because we shall be forced to give our reasons for them.
On the surface they certainly do not bear a very exalted appearance. Dress, for instance, essentially belongs to this life,
but it is not in itself sinful. We may rightly wish a young
girl to wear a handsome dress because she is invited to a party,
where it will be expected of her. We may very naturally desire her to look well, because the sight is pleasant to us.  But
let there be no pretence about the matter-let us own our true
object. If we shrink from doing so-if conscience whispers
that we have really a hidden motive of social ambition, or a
desire to surpass others-we shall do well to pause before we
carry out our wishes. We may make a fair show, and even
succeed in shutting our eyes to our own doubleness, but we
may be certain that our children will be more clear-sighted,
and in this way we shall unconsciously educate them in worldliness and insincerity.
This word worldliness describes a tone of mind with which
vanity is intimately connected, and which, like it, is fostered in
almost perfect unconsciousness.
261 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
Love of excitement, the craving for amusement, considered
to be especially the fault and temptation of youth, are in many
cases taught in childhood, almost, one may say, in infancy.
Instead of making little children self-dependent as regards
amusement, the moment they appear in the drawing-room
some one is expected to amuse and play with them, and the
mother, or sister, or aunt, must give up all her attention to
them. Instead of being taught self-restraint and consideration, by being forced to be quiet while others are employed,
they are allowed to interfere with every occupation. The exciting companionship of their elders becomes a daily necessity
instead of an occasional treat; and after this early training in
what is to them dissipation, parents are surprised that their
children cannot be satisfied with only common pursuits, but
always require some amusement to be found for them. Little
do they think that one of the greatest blessings which can be
conferred on any one is that of being contented with small
pleasures; and that the child of the peasant, who can play
happily with a piece of wood, has a possession which the
little heir of thousands, surrounded by his splendid toys, might
envy.
Few playthings, few companions, few story books.   Upon
these children may be educated simply and thoroughly. Give
them many, and we  create artificial necessities, which can
only be satisfied by artificial means. And with these necessities there must creep in that wretched spirit of worldliness
which is the hidden worm eating away all that is good and
noble in a- character. The child with her perpetual longing
for new tales, her listlessness when she is not actually engaged
in study, her constant desire for little fineries, her craving for
amusement-some one to play with, or to visit-some young
party at home or abroad-is but rehearsing on a small scale
what her elders enact on a large one.
She is practising discontent, learning to find duty and usefulness uninteresting, to live for pleasure, to care only for what
262 
VANITY.
may excite, And it is this spirit which, when carried out,
ultimately becomes worldliness.
"Lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God." 1  We
want no other definition of worldliness. It is impossible to
draw true distinctions between one amusement and another;
to say that a dinner party is lawful, and a dance unlawful;
for greediness and excess may as possibly be associated with
the one, as vanity and folly may be with the other; and dis play may be shared equally by both. When we attempt to
define in these ways, we are almost certain to be uncharitable
and Pharisaical; but we cannot be wrong in saying, that when
amusement and excitement are necessities, the spirit is worldly,
and therefore when we teach children to crave them, we are
educating them in worldliness.
This will not to many seem a very great danger. World liness is an unobtrusive fault. It is cold and repelling, indeed,
when we approach it closely, but it is perhaps rather graceful
and refined at a distance. And it will never offend our taste,
and seldom jar upon us. We may live comfortably with it,
so long as we do not come in its way. Cross it, and it will
turn against us with a tiger's fierceness; but leave it to itself,
and it will never trouble us. On the contrary, indeed, if we
only keep our religious peculiarities within certain limits, it
will walk by our side, and do us the honour of offering its
approval.
There is but one great evil attached to it. It absorbs the
mind, and entirely prevents it from forcing itself upon the
things which belong to the invisible world. It cannot therefore enter Heaven. Whatever then assists in training children
in worldliness, must at the same time be training them for
some place which is not Heaven.
That is a grave matter. Perhaps when we are next inclined to indulge ourselves and our children by a round of excitement, whether on a small or a large scale, we may pause
and think of it.
1 2 Tim. iii. 4.
263
I 
CHAPTER XXI.
TEMPER.
THE faults which we have last been considering are, as it
will have been evident, only partially under external guidance.
We may check and discourage them; but we cannot, as in the
case of disobedience, exercise any direct control over them.
They can only be eradicated by religious principle.
And the same may be said of temper. The question is
sometimes asked, " How is it possible to cure such a child of
a passionate, or obstinate, or sullen temper?"   The true
answer is, " It is not possible."  The child must, humanly
speaking, cure itself. We may avoid the occasions which
arouse the temper, and when it is aroused we may deal with
it wisely; but the tendency will remain as it was before. We
see this in a most disappointing way in the case of children
who are very good-tempered with some persons, and very illtempered with others. A cross nurse makes a fractious child;
an irritating manner in the governess excites irritability in the
pupil; a severe reproof from a mother will awaken a spirit of
sullenness in the daughter. And in the generality of these
cases, it is usual to lay the blame on the individual who
arouses the temper; as if the fact that a person is good-tempered when not thwarted, is an evidence of an amiable disposition and wholesome self-restraint.
This mode of speaking greatly misleads both young and old.
We should all be very much more ashamed of ill-temper'than
we are, if we did not " lay the flattering unction to our souls," 
TEMPER.
that it is excusable to be angry when provoked. But here in lies the self-deception: to feel angry is excusable, to give
way to anger is not so; and whatever may be the provocation
it is a sin.
The Apostle indeed says, " Be ye angry, and sin not."' 
But it would seem that he speaks in the first place of the im pulse of anger, which, as being involuntary, is not, in the strict
sense of the word, sinful; and in the second place, of that in dignation at wrong doing, which can in no way be called giving
way to anger, because it is a feeling excited by a just cause;
and when watched, as it ought to be, is never allowed to ex ceed the limits of truth and justice. The indulgence of anger,
the yielding to wrathful emotions, without making any attempt
to check them, is very different from this. It is a great sin,
and a great disgrace.
We are all aware of the fact in our own hearts, even
though the world in its judgment may deal gently with us.
No man gives way to passion without feeling, in his cooler
moments, contempt for his own weakness;-a contempt which
is indeed so unendurable, that it compels him, as it were, to
cast the odium upon another, by saying, " I was provoked.
Such an one said so-and-so, or did so-and-so; it was impossible to help being angry." The amount of injustice, untruthfulness, and self-delusion, which is to be traced to this source,
would probably startle us.
The very word which we use in excuse for ourselves is a
falsehood. Impossible! no, it is never impossible to keep the
temper in order, to subdue the rising of passion, and to speak
the "'soft answer which turneth away wrath." 2 The task
does indeed appear impossible after years of indulgence in passion;-it is the only supposition by which we can account for
the astounding fact that men of undoubted religious principle
(religious, that is, to a certain extent), and keenly sensible to
their position and influence amongst their fellow-men, are
known as " excellent fellows-only with such very bad tem             1 Ephes. iv.           2 Prov. xv. 1.
12
265 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
pers; "-but it is no more really impossible than it is to overcome a habit of drinking.
A continued notorious bad temper necessarily implies both
a weak religious principle and a weak will. The sooner we
make young people understand this, and own that violent temper-with its apparent force and energy, its noise and bluster,
and (that which is often accorded to it) its influence of fearis really a disgrace to a rational being, as well as an offence to
God, the greater is our hope of rousing them to the conflict
needed to subdue it.
When this conflict is begun early, the victory is as easy as
it is sure. For violent temper is something perfectly tangible;
there can be no mistake about it.  We have a giant to fight
with, but the very fact that he is a giant enables us to see him
distinctly, and so prevents our fighting at random.
And children and young people do not generally, like their
elders, deceive themselves on the subject of temper. They
really are ashamed of it, and it does not give them power by
arousing fear, it only makes them disagreeable. If they have
anything like religious principle, and possibly even if they have
not, they very earnestly desire to get rid of it.
Now, there is a verse in the Book of Proverbs. always
quoted on behalf of the government of the temper, which
seems to recognize this earnest wish, and to encourage it by an
appeal to that remarkable principle of man's nature, which
leads him to delight in battle, and which phrenologists call
combativeness-" He that is slow to anger is better than the
mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a
city." 
Ruling, in this place, cannot mean merely guiding or
governing, for the act is compared with a siege and victory.
Contest must therefore be included in both. And a violent
temper is necessarily accompanied by a tendency to combativeness. We continually see the exaggeration of the latter ending in crime, as the frequent and natural consequence of the
1 Prov. xvi. 32.
266 
TEMPER.
indulgence of the former. Here, then, we have an instinct or
tendency that may ultimately become a power, which, if only
seized upon at the right moment, and directed in the right way,
may prove the very instrument needed to subdue a violent
temper.
For temper, it is to be remembered, must be controlled be  fore religious principle can, generally speaking, be expected to
act upon it. There is no doubt that the latter will do the
work much more efficaciously, and far more easily; but we
must not wait for it. From a child's earliest days it must be
taught that the battle with passion, the conquest of violent
temper, is one of the great objects to which this love of conflict
and victory is to be directed.
This is not speaking allegorically or mystically. The
satisfaction arising from self-control, self-restraint, self-disci pline, is just as truly a satisfaction arising from the exercise of
power, as that which is derived from government of any other
kind. No person, who is conscious that he is master of him self, that he can trust himself-check himself-be, in fact, the
lord of his own passions and inclinations, is insensible to it. It
constitutes, in fact, to many minds, the great charm of asceticism; and though it is a feeling that may easily be carried to
excess, and is only safe when united with that sincerity of
heart which leads us to place ourselves by our Saviour's side,
and compare our self-conquest with His endurance; yet it would
seem, even from the testimony of Scripture, to be perfectly
lawful.
Allowing it to be so, then we can at once make an appeal
to a feeling in the human heart, to which it will scarcely fail to
respond.
The giant stands before us-Passion. It must be conquered, through God's grace, and with His help, but also by
the exertion of the individual will. How soon? How completely shall the victory be gained? We may give a certain
time, according to circumstances, for the campaign. By the
end of that time, passionate temper must be so overcome that
267 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
even keen provocation shall not be able to arouse it beyond
the moment. That is a definite object to set before a child,
and with it there must be definite rules. Perhaps one only will
suffice. When inwardly quivering and trembling with anger,
stand perfectly still, and do not speak for the space of one
minute. The rush of the whirlwind will be over then, and the
consciousness of self-mastery will have invigorated the whole
moral being; and even if self-restraint should subsequently be
lost, there will still be the feeling of partial victory. Continue
this, and soon-much sooner than we could possibly imagine
-by the laws of association which form a habit, the instant
the giant is aroused, the will which is to overcome him will be
aroused also. Of course the real difficulty lies with the will,
and here it is that religious principle acts so powerfully; but
it may again be repeated, that violent temper is one of those
faults which must be stopped in its very earliest stages, or it,
will so get the upper hand, that even a really earnest spirit
will not entirely subdue it; and the man who is possessed by
it-for in its effects, as well as in the suddenness of its attack,
it often appears a species of possession-will remain an inconsistent Christian all his days.
And when this self-mastery is acquired, the impulse of
temper, as well as its stormy ebullition, will be arrested, and
by degrees the violent temper will really become gentle. Men
are most frequently passionate because they do not give themselves time to listen or think. They misconstrue, misunderstand; they call up a phantom, and then, brandishing their
clubs, rush violently to attack it. The habit of pausing, considering, striving to be sympathetic, to hear and see as others
do, is a most effectual check upon this folly: it will at length
become a habit; and habit, we must remember, is as efficacious for good as it is for evil.
Most terrible as the effects of violent temper have been,
and may be, yet, of all the faults to which our fallen nature is
liable, there is probably not one which can be so entirely overcome, or which, in the effort to conquer it, leaves such lasting
268 
TEMPER.
marks of good upon the character; since the force of will
which it demands and cultivates, is a power to be exerted
against every other fault or temptation.
All this may be said to a child as soon as it is able to un derstand reason; and if we add the sense of God's approbation
of such efforts, and the desire to please Him, the victory is
nearly certain. But for the child, we must remember-not for
the man. By the time the age of fourteen is reached, if not
sooner, the giant must become a slave, or it will in all like lihood be a tyrant for life.
But there are many other forms of bad temper besides that
of passion; and they are so much the more difficult to deal with
because they do not assume so palpable a form. Obstinacy,
perverseness, irritability, fretfulness, sullenness, are really
greater trials than the temptation to violent bursts of passion,
for they meet us at every turn, and require continued watchful ness quite as much as an energetic will. And of these it may,
perhaps, be said, that they will scarcely ever be thoroughly
eradicated on this side the grave, because they belong more or
less to physical temperament. Religious principle, and nothing
else, will in any degree successfully attack them. What we
have chiefly to guard against in education is strengthening
them by want of tact, and bad management. Children, indeed, should never be allowed to call such faults by gentle
names, or to make excuses for them; yet a little care may
often ward off their outbursts.
If a little child has a fit of obstinacy, we shall only strengthen the evil by insisting upon carrying out our will. A simpler
and more efficacious mode of dealing with the case is to say:
" Very well, my dear; as you don't choose to do what I tell you,
I will not allow you to do it. You were told to pick up that
book, and you refused; now I forbid your doing it; but instead, you shall sit upon that chair for the next quarter of an
hour and look at it." Put the child upon the chair, and leave
it. The obstinacy will have vanished, merely because it finds
that there is no longer a law against which it can hold out.
269 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUOATION.
Perverseness may be dealt with in the same way. Some
children-and a great many grown-up persons-have an intuitive desire to object to whatever is proposed, and especially if
it is thought that it will give them pleasure. Nothing can be
more trying to those they live with, and nothing is so likely to
cure them as to take them at their word. A child is told that
she is to go into the garden for some pleasant amusement, and
being in a perverse mood says, in a complaining tone, that
" she does not want to go." Instead of trying to persuade her
that she will like it, take her at her word, and say, " Certainly,
then you shall not go, as you dislike it." The next time she
will be afraid to be perverse. The same kind of spirit shows
itself in raising difficulties. There are innumerable cases in
life in which it is impossible to avoid a difficulty. Instead of
acting upon the wise maxim, " Of two evils choose the least,"
perverse people, whether men, women, or children, are constantly jumping from one to the other; so that you can never
grasp them and bring them to reason. If you say, " Suppose
we do so and so," the answer is, " Oh, no; that can't be, because of such or such consequences." If you then turn round,
and say, " Well! then let us do so and so," you are met with,
"Oh, no; that is quite impossible," because of some other
consequence. And yet one of the two alternatives must be
chosen. No argument will be of any avail in such a case.
You may have the lever in your hand with which to move the
world, but you have no fulcrum on which to rest it. A much
shorter way of settling the matter is to say, " Well, then, decide for yourself; what do you think may or ought to be
done?" When driven up into a corner by this question, the
folly of the perversity is seen, and the choice of difficulties is
made.
These peculiarities of disposition require very careful watching and guiding, whilst children are young, for otherwise they
take root insensibly, and develop most unpleasantly in.after
years, when perhaps they are scarcely acknowledged as faults,
and therefore not struggled against.  And when persons have
270 
TEMPER.
to live and act together, especially in the case of large families,
where the interests and happiness of many are affected by in dividual peculiarities, they become of vast importance to the
comfort of daily life, even though they may not, upon a cur sory view, appear to mar the real worth of the character.
Irritability is perhaps less easily checked by efforts ex ternal to the person who gives way to it, than any of the other
developments of temper of which mention has been made, for
it is very often the result of physical weakness, or nervousness.
We see this in the case of children in infancy, or, indeed, at
any age, when an illness is coming on, or when the process of
recovery has commenced; and in such instances we must be
particularly careful to avoid exciting it. But when we are
attempting to educate, though we must always ourselves bear
the extenuating circumstances in mind, we must take care that
the children, whom we are training, do not seize upon them
as an excuse. This is a general rule. There may and must
be exceptions. If we have ever watched by a sick bed,
which must soon become the bed of death, and heard the sorrowful confession of irritability from one who is too weak to
exercise self-command, and whose brain is scarcely in its natural state, so as to be able to realize the force of religious
truth, we shall have found ourselves compelled to say, " Do
not think irritability a sin. It is only a weakness. God will
look mercifully upon it." But this is by no means the language which can rightly be used in any case except that of
illness, and for this reason: irritability is not so much a disease in itself, as the symptom of some other disease-it may
be physical, it may be moral. With a person in ordinary
good health susceptibility of the nerves is no excuse for an
irritable temper. It may make gentleness more difficult, but
it does not render its attainment impossible. The nerves are
excited by some outward object; irritability, therefore, depends, for the most part, upon the view which we take of
those objects.
Selfishness is one most frequent source of irritability.
271 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
We think of ourselves, care for ourselves, seek our own comfort, and so are irritable with every person and every thing
which interferes with self. Vanity also will render us irritable, by awakening a desire for notice, and a consequent fretfulness when it is diverted from us to others. Self-conceitlove of power-will act in the same way; and even when irritability is caused by actions and movements which offend
our taste, or jar upon our peculiar mood, it can always be
checked by the thought that there is no intention of annoying
us; that we may be quite as much in fault in indulging these
particular fancies, as the person we complain of is in giving
way to the habits we dislike. Or, should we be really justified
in calling them disagreeable, still there is the duty of self-control,
and sympathy with infirmity. When we think of sensitiveness and susceptibility as connected with the human frame,
we shall scarcely err in believing that no mortal body could
ever have been so nervously alive to all that would jar upon
and pain it, as that of our Blessed Redeemer; but the idea of
irritability as connected with Him, we feel at once to be blasphemous.
In dealing, therefore, with irritable children, we have first
to take care that they are kept in good health; and when we
are satisfied about that point, we must watch the cause which
gives rise to the irritability, and by attacking the origin of
the disease, and teaching them how to attack it, we may hope,
by degrees, to get rid of the symptom.
And in this case, as in that of violent temper, our best safeguard is to begin early. Irritability, indulged, grows into a
confirmed habit; indeed, it is one of those faults which will
spring up in advancing years, even when it has but slightly
shown itself before. The only thorough preservative against
it, at any age, is that " answer of a good conscience," which
gives us inward peace, by filling us with the blessed consciousness that we are walking in God's ways, and in His favour.
A half will, a weak struggle, and a keen conscience, will make
any one irritable. It is not the question whether, our past
272 
TEMPER.
sins being forgiven, we have a blessed hope of final salvation;
we may have that, and yet be restless and irritable, because we
know that God having done so much for us, we are not doing
our utmost for Him. This is the consciousness which makes
us dissatisfied with ourselves, and, as a necessary consequence,
inclined to be dissatisfied with others. The " peace which pass eth understanding" cannot coexist with anything but the offer ing of a whole heart, a steadfast will; and there is no other
peace which can really soothe the susceptibilities of an irritable
temper.
With sullenness or moodiness we are perhaps dealing most
wisely when we leave it to itself, and take no notice of it. A
very large proportion of this wrong temper will probably be
found to arise from morbid self-consciousness. Children, young
people, and a great many who are not young, like to know
that others are thinking of and watching them, even when they
are out of humour. They are not aware of being affected, and
there is no actual pretence of feeling, but there is an uncon scious exaggeration, proceeding from the desire to attract notice,
Leave them to themselves, and this will die away. They will
be tired of making themselves disagreeable for no purpose, and
will by degrees recover their usual tone. When the mood has
passed, it will be well to speak seriously about it, and show
how inconsistent it is with Christian principle; but, at the
time, such exhortations will only serve to increase the self-consciousness, and so to strengthen the mood. But after all, nothing can be done to cure, or even really to check, a sullen,
moody temper, until, through God's grace, it is conquered
from within. The feelings which give rise to it are too secret
and complicated for us to reach. We may, indeed, observe
the circumstances which seem to bring on the mood, and frame
our own words and conduct so as to avoid arousing it unnecessarily; but even this is very difficult; for children and young
people must be reproved, and yet it is reproof which most often
makes them sullen. A few words on the fault which is to'be
noticed, spoken gently, but decidedly, will, with such dispo
273
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
sitions, be found better than an endeavour to touch the feelings.
And especially we must guard against any irritating preambles,
such as, " Now, my dear, I know you don't like to be spoken
to, but I must tell you so and so." Dragging secondary faults
to light in this way is irritating to the temper, and the reproof
or the advice which may follow will in consequence be taken
amiss.
There is one more form of evil temper which we may very
likely be called upon to combat with, but which must be encountered with very different weapons from those employed in
other cases. We have all, no doubt, met with some instance
of a jealous temper-a most miserable thing for its possessor,
and a source of unnumbered evils to those who have to deal
with it. And yet, strange though the advice may seem, probably our only way of gaining influence over it for good is to begin by sympathizing with it. It is such intense pain, and it so
shrouds itself in the garb of love; we shall only repel and
make the wounded heart shut itself up with its own misery, if
we begin at once to speak of it as a sin. Feel with it, pity it,
gain its confidence, and soothe it; and then say, " This is natural, but it is wrong, and there is but one cure for it-to make
a sacrifice for the happiness of the person of whom you are
jealous. That being done, there will be the sense of God's
loving approbation, and' when He giveth quietness, who then
can make trouble?"' 1  There is, however, another kind of
jealousy, which does not pretend to be based upon love; jealousy of power, of admiration, of influence. This is really
nothing but selfishness, and it should be treated as such, called
by its true name, and shown to be despicable. But the idea
of punishing jealousy in any form is absurd. We can but
place it in its true light, and then leave it to God, through the
working of His Holy Spirit upon the conscience, to correct it.
We are, indeed, apt generally to deceive ourselves as to
the power we possess of controlling children's tempers. Bad
temper of any kind is so very trying, it destroys so completely
1 Job xxxiv. 29.
214 
TEMPER.
anything like domestic happiness, that we constantly find our selves having recourse to any expedient which may suggest it self in order to keep off its outbursts; and when we have suc ceeded we boast of our success, and flatter ourselves that the
temper is cured. But to pet and humour a bad temper is
really only to encourage it. Be it passionate, or moody, or ir ritable, it becomes in this way the tyrant of a household; no
one has the courage to oppose it. It is very curious, indeed, to
watch the effect which it produces. Except in very exag gerated cases, we know that it will exhibit itself in nothing
worse than words and manner, and these cannot really injure
us; yet there are probably very few persons who would not as
soon go through the ordeal of sitting down in a dentist's chair,
unknowing what pain may be in store for them, as deliberately
encounter an outburst of violent temper, or suffer from irritability and moodiness. And thus it is that we run away
from temper, speak smooth words to it, do anything rather
than provoke it. And, unless duty calls upon us to confront
it, this is a wise course to adopt. But if we treat children in
a similar way, we are doing them an irreparable injury. The
little tyrant of the nursery becomes the bully of the school, and
the imperious lord of a household; and so the evil nature is
fostered and strengthened, until it has become so confirmed a
habit that it is not looked upon as a sin; and the man goes
down to his grave with the burden of violent, uncharitable
words and deeds upon his conscience, and wakes in another
world to find himself in the presence of Him who has numbered
"hatred, wrath, and strife" as amongst the "works of the
flesh," and bids us remember that " the fruit of the Spirit is
love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith,
meekness, temperance: against such there is no law." 1 Surely,
then, it is incumbent upon us to take warning in time, and allow neither ourselves nor our children to be in the slightest
degree self-deceived upon this question of ill-temper.
The caution is most important for girls as well as boys.
Gal.  v. 22, 23.
275 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
A woman's temper is seldom perhaps as violent as a man's,
but when once excited it is more ungovernable. And irritability and sullenness are, it must be remembered, just as much
offences in God's sight as passion; and how many homes are
made miserable, how many hearts are saddened, and how,
much love is checked, and in the end extinguished, by the
indulgence of what is called a disagreeable or an irritable
temper, in the gentle-mannered, soft-voiced, perhaps attractive girl, who in society is the object of universal admiration!
276 
CHAPTER XXII.
PURITY.
SIDE by side with Truth surely we must place Purity; or
rather, may we not look upon truth as the guardian-the pro tector of purity? For it can only be through the instrumentality of sophistry, self-deceit, and false imaginings, that any
woman ceases to be, in however slight a degree, modest and
refined in word and deed. The instinct which tells her that
the reverse of this character is wrong, is as innate as the perception of truth; and nothing but falsehood-though a falsehood to which her own will consents-can lead her to think
the contrary.
And it is to this instinct, this inborn sense of what is pure,
that we are all accustomed to trust, for the most part implicitly, in the education of young girls. Time was, indeed,
when it was thought necessary to use plain words and strong
language-to call vice by direct names. Those were days
which we look upon as evil-we could not bear them now.
We cannot read the literature of those times unless in expurgated editions. We know that we should be unable to tolerate
the manners and the conversation which then were thought
perfectly admissible.
We have adopted another theory; we say, coarse words
bring coarse ideas: we feel that God has mercifully left a
remnant of the innocence of Paradise in the natural purity of
a young girl's mind, and we believe that woe will be to us if,
through any imprudent anxiety, or over caution, we should 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
give rise to a thought of evil which, left to itself, the mind
would never have suggested. And, acting upon this theory,
we leave-or at least we think that we leave-young girls to
themselves; taking, perhaps, one precaution, that the books
they read should be, on the whole, unobjectionable. If we
are very strict, we reject novels altogether; and if we are not,
we admit, at the age of seventeen or eighteen, a few-the
very best; but at any rate we keep a watch over girls' reading, and we are careful that they should not form what we
consider to be injurious friendships; and then we trust themto nature.
And what is the result? Most highly satisfactory! Are
not our English girls the very models of all that is refined,
delicate, and modest? Is it not a delight to watch them
wherever they are congregated together?   Have they not
beauty, freshness, grace, freedom of tone without familiarity
-ease of manner without forwardness?
There is a rumour, indeed, that they are becoming " fast";
that they are beginning to like to make themselves conspicuous; that they wish not only to look like men, but to talk
and act like them. It is even asserted that they are more acquainted than a few years since would have been thought
credible with the evil which abounds in the world, and are
more tolerant of it.  But all this we choose to consider a
mere question of fashion. It is, we say, a wave of folly
which will sweep over the surface of society and retire, leaving it very much what it was before. English girls are modest and pure-minded: they must be so. It is a scandal and
offence to suppose it possible that they can be the contrary.
And so again we smile at such young follies, and fold our
hands, and perhaps sigh; and then leave our girls-to nature!
It is too sad to disturb such a pleasant dream-too cruel to
suggest suspicions-to speak of the need of warning, the necessity of watchfulness.  If the Eye of God were as thekye
of man, and Heaven could be won by fair appearances, one
might almost say that we have good reason to be satisfied.
278 
PURITY.
Almost! But there is another side to the picture-a side
to which we seldom turn-which we dare not let the pure
young minds of our children think upon-which we scarcely
venture to think upon ourselves. It comes to us in the form
of penitentiaries, refuges, reformatories; intended-so we
think-for the lower classes; for those who have no such
safeguards, no such examples, as our children have. The in mates of those moral hospitals are the lowest of the low now;
they must, we suppose, have been so always.
True-they are the lowest of the low;  none but them selves can tell how low.   In the "lowest deep" a "lower
deep" has opened for them, and they have sunk into it.
True also, that, except in some most sad cases, they have not
generally belonged to what are exclusively called the upper
classes. Those who, in the upper classes, sin like them, have
money, and rank, and friends, and flatterers, to shield them.
They can brave the world even as they brave their God; and
the world will suffer them to go their way, and even bow down
itself before them. Yet these mournful harbours for the all-but
lost do too often include amongst their inmates English girls,
brought up in quiet homes, under seemingly good influences,
without any apparently great temptations-girls left to the
teachings and warnings of nature; and who, in outward manners, have been just as modest, just as retiring, though they
may not have been just as elegant and cultivated, as their sisters of the higher ranks. When we boast of the purity and
delicacy of English girls and English women, we may not take
the happy majority who have been saved from open transgression, and put aside the miserable minority who have fallen into
it. God looks down equally upon all.
Can the condition of England in this respect be well pleasing in His sight?
Yet still further. Let us ask ourselves what purity means
-what it really is. Purity before God.  No thought, no wish,
no feeling, which may not be brought into His presence, and
there welcomed and blessed!
2T9 
PRINCIPLES OF EDITCATION.
It is the inheritance of Angels; and whilst still dwelling
in this body of sin and death, we may think that we cannot
hope for it. But can we be contented with less for ourselves?
Can we seek for less in others? Will any right-minded mother,
any true friend, endure for an instant the idea that the child
whom she loves is to sit down satisfied without it? We bear
with imperfect temper, with lingering selfishness, with unsubdued pride-we can love and cherish all that is good in the
character, even whilst we recognize the existence of these
qualities of evil; but we cannot so bear with what is not
pure. To admit the possibility of it in children involves the
destruction of an ideal; and because this is painful to us, we
close our eyes to what we do not like to see, and say, " God
has given the instinct of purity to a young girl, and nature
will guard it. We need not trouble ourselves with it, except
so far as to be careful that nothing shall approach to mar it."
And even while the words are uttered, there must be some
from the depths of whose hearts a voice arises telling them
they speak foolishly. The ideal child has not-they are but
too truly aware of it-in their case expanded into the ideal
girl and woman. They know that they were once thought to
be what they were not; and, because of that involuntary deception, they know also that they have had to work out for
themselves a bitter experience of their own weakness, from
which a word of warning might have saved them. And yet
they continue the like dream with regard to others; they will
not believe what they know, but what they wish; and so they
in their turn form an ideal of purity, and simplicity, and modesty, and call it their child; and then thank God for giving it
them, and consider that their work is done.
In thus acting, persons follow a principle directly opposite
to that which has been proved to be necessary in other cases.
We all know the revolution which the principle of reasoning
from induction has effected in natural science. Both sceptics and believers are, at the present moment, clamorous that
it should be applied to the study of revelation Why, then, is
280 
PURITY.
it to be discarded in morals? We may say, because it is not
needed; because the truth of the present theory is proved by
its results. We cannot wish our young girls to be different
from what they are, and therefore we are content with the sys tem which has trained them.
A most satisfactory and wise answer, if only it were founded
upon true premises.  We cannot wish our young girls to be
different from what they are! How do we know what they
are? If purity be, as surely it is, that perfect spotlessness of
deed, and word, and thought, which God can look upon and
bless, then we may be quite sure that these young people-sim ple-minded, innocent as they appear, and as in a certain sense,
no doubt, they are-are not pure. And if any, looking into
their own hearts now, and recalling the memories of their
childhood, can see occasion for bitter regret and humiliation
before God, though there may be no shadow of reproach in the
sight of man;  surely, by the most evident reasoning from
analogy, there is cause to fear-more than to fear-to believe,
that the same dangers are lying in wait for the children of the
present day; and it is our imperative necessity, our bounden
duty, so far as it lies in our power, to shield them from them.
The real secret of all this wilful delusion is, that although
theoretically we desire purity both for ourselves and our children, yet practically we content ourselves with a standard short
of that which God requires.
" Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God."
The immediate Presence, the visible Majesty and Holiness
of the Almighty, and our own hearts! Can we bear even the
juxtaposition of the two ideas?
And yet it is to the pure in heart alone that the promise is
given. However unattainable such purity may appear, we are
nevertheless commanded to strive after it. And though the
merits of our Redeemer form the only title of admission to
Heaven, yet it is that same Redeemer who says, "Be ye
therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in Heaven
is perfect." 2
2 St. Matt.  v. 48.
281
I
I St. Matt. v. 8. 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
To place anything short of purity of heart before us as our
aim, is to fall short of God's command, to risk being of the
number of those who shall never "see God."
How is it, then, with us? What is it we look for in these
young girls, so innocent, that they may be left without fear
to the guidance of nature? We reply, they are irreproachable
before man, society cannot frown upon them, envy will not
sneer at them, scandal dares not whisper against them; and we
are satisfied. We wish for nothing more. The world's standard is our standard, and we have succeeded in attaining it.
True, there are rumours of hidden evil, which at times reach
our ears, but it is not pleasant to listen to them. True, we are
at times startled by some terrible catastrophe which wrecks the
happiness of quiet homes; but those are rare exceptions.
They are not to be taken as the ground of reasoning and
action. True, also, that the dress of these modest English
girls is a subject for sarcasm to all other nations; but the
world, society, custom, sanction it; we should be ridiculed
if we attempted to alter it. We need not ask what God says
upon these subjects, it is sufficient if man approves. The
young daughters of England are what we wish them to be,
what we are determined they shall be.   "Blessed  are the
pure "-as man reckons purity;-we may not doubt that they
shall one day " see God! " 1
Now let us turn to the Bible.
It is a very startling-one may even say a very uncomfortable-book. It does not in the least recognize this innate
purity, this perfect simplicity and innocence which we so fondly dwell upon. The facts of the Bible and the facts of the
world harmonize exactly; but the theory of the Bible and the
theory of the world do not harmonize in the least. The Bible
has a code of laws for men and women, for boys and girls
alike. The world says they are not needed for the last, because nature herself is their law. And this difference makes
the Bible, as it has been said, a startling book. No doubt
1St. Matt. v. 8.
282 
PURITY.
there are portions of it which, though absolutely necessary as
parts of legislation, were never intended for general use; but
putting aside these, the Bible certainly does take it for granted
that purity of heart and life is a thing to be prayed for, striven
for, watched for, by all alike. It uses very plain language
upon these subjects, which of course, being in the Bible, is
right and necessary. But we could not possibly use such language ourselves! What effect it has upon the young girls who
listen to it we do not know, and we would rather not inquire.
So we leave it. It is the only thing to be done in all these
matters-we leave it.  Nature, time, common  sense, will
bring it all right.
Let it be so. Since we trust so much to this education
of nature, it will do us no harm to inquire what it is likely
to be.
We will look into a nursery.  The education of nature begins there. There are two or three rooms, closely adjoining,a day nurser,  and night nurseries.  Four or five children are
congregated in them-boys and girls-varying probably in age
from seven years old, downwards. The youngest is a baby,
scarcely looked upon as a human being, and treated accord
ingly.  There are nurses-one or two, as the case may bewho have been brought up in country villages, accustomed,
probably, to the use of one bedroom for a family, and looking
upon two as a complete luxury of decency. To them, it is
quite a thing of course, that boys and girls, at that early age,
should be herded together indiscriminately.   The children
have not yet arrived at the dignity of he and she, they are
simply its, and so they play, and romp, and dress, and undress, and the little doll baby is tossed about, and nursery
questions are discussed, and arrangements made, and the idea
of paying attention to the ordinary decorums and proprieties
of grown-up persons is totally set aside. The children live a
life in public, and, as a natural result, they do not wish for
anything else. They have no idea what privacy means. The
theory of nature, however, says that it is not needed, for that
283 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
little girls have an instinctive delicacy, which is, in fact, their
most precious gift.  Poets rave about it, and fathers and
mothers dream about it. The little creatures, when dressed
in their best clothes and taken down into the drawing-room,
are looked upon as angels of modesty.  But-it is strangethey are not quite the same in the nursery. There, they are
often rude, and unrefined, and wanting in delicacy.  The
nurses are obliged to caution them before they go into the
drawing-room, and sometimes, in spite of the caution, they
will do and say very unpleasant things. But it is all simplicity-nature! The mother leaves them to nature. They
know no harm.  How, then, can they be capable of it?
But the time arrives when some change must be made.
The boys go to school, the girls have a governess at home.
They leave the nursery, and they have bedrooms of their own;
two, possibly three, occupying the same apartment. Very
comfortable, pleasant rooms they are-delightful for the public life to which the children have been accustomed; but privacy-still there is none. What need is there of it? The
little girls who have always been together, who have not a
thought concealed from one another, who are absolutely one in
taste, and feeling, and sympathy, cannot require, or even wish
for the arrangements which would be essential with grown-up
persons and strangers. And there is nothing in the outward
behaviour of the children to lead any one to suspect that this
unrestrained, unguarded familiarity is doing them the least
harm. The little improprieties of the nursery have all passed
away. In society they are retiring; to their parents they are
obedient. If there was a tendency to rudeness and indecorum
when they were very little, it was mere simplicity. Now,
they have (arived at the age of shyness and modesty, and nature is still i. -re delightful in its training. It must guide them
aright!
There are, however, a few circumstances which ar. not
quite satisfactory. The governess says that she has occasion
ally heard a few words of conversation pass between these
284 
PU-RE.
children upon subjects which it was not fitting they should
discuss; and she has seen smiles and side glances, which give
her an idea that the children know some things which it would
be better they should not know; she doubts if they are quite
as simple-minded as they appear. But the mother is incredu lous. " What evil can her girls have learnt? So carefully as
they have been guarded from all objectionable companionship,
kept entirely under her own eye, and at such a very early age!
At seventeen or eighteen, of course, young people will be silly,
and talk of love and romance; but little girls of ten, eleven,
and twelve, who have been well brought up, can know nothing
and say nothing which the whole world might not hear." An
appeal is made to the nurse. She also is incredulous and even
indignant.  "The young ladies have never learnt any harm
from any one to her knowledge. Now and then they have
asked odd questions, but she has always told them they were
not to trouble themselves about things which did not concern
them. They would know all about it when they grew up, but
it was no matter to them whilst they were children."
An answer, of course, consummate in its wisdom!  Not in
the least stimulating to a child's curiosity! At any rate, the
mother is satisfied. The governess, however, is not so, and
she is all the more uncomfortable at her suspicions, because, as
she says, " she has always been so extremely careful to keep
the children's minds innocent. Awkward passages are met
with in history, and, indeed, in the Bible. There are some
things even in the Catechism which are not pleasant; but she
has always passed them over as rapidly as possible. She has
never allowed the least comment upon them. If the children
have asked for explanations of things which could not be explained, she has said very much what the nurse said: that
those subjects did not concern little girls, and they had better
not think about them."
The state of the little girls' minds cannot, however, be
ascertained, because the very fact of examination would create the evil which is dreaded.   Before any person can tell
285 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
whether he or she has committed a fault, it must first be understood what the fault is.
No. There is nothing to be done but to be still more particutlar, and to fall back upon nature for comfort. The children were born pure-minded; they have heard and seen nothing
to Wake them the reverse; therefore they are pure-minded!
And in this full confidence in nature and simplicity, the children are left more and more to themselves, and allowed free
intercourse with the young friends who have been chosen to be
their companions. As occasion arises, they share the same
room with them, and are on terms of the same entire familiarity as with their sisters. No one suspects the slightest evil.
They do, indeed, sit up too late, and gossip together over the
fireside; but all girls will do this; and they are so young, it
is impossible that any harm can arise, except, perhaps, to their
health; and they do not meet often enough for this to be really
injured by late hours!
They are so young! There lies the fallacy. If these girls
were some years older, there would be comparatively little
danger. They would then have acquired the habits of outward
delicacy and refinement which society gives; and they would
not choose to lower themselves by conversation of which they
ought to be ashamed. But at twelve, thirteen, and fourteen,
this shyness does not exist. If young girls are then herded
together without care, and if they have had their first delicacy
of feeling blunted by neglect in the nursery, they will do and
say whatever suggests itself at the moment, with all the more
zest, because they are conscious, though they know not why,
that it is forbidden. And thus it is that hundreds of young
minds are contaminated. And how deep that contamination
in some cases is, we should probably be very much shocked if
we could know. But whatever the amount of the mischief
may be in man's judgment, it must be great in the sight of
God; for it is the first mark laid upon that modesty of nature,
which is His most precious gift to woman; and which, under
no circumstances, can be injured without the consent of her
286 
PURITY.
own will. Neither can we forget, that when a girl of fourteen
or fifteen ventures to speak to another girl of her own age,
upon subjects which she would shrink from mentioning to a
person whom she respects, she has opened the door to very
grave evil.  Possibly it may not enter; but possibly also  very possibly, it may.
It is not because sin is hidden that it does not exist. There
are many who, through God's mercy, pass through life actually
ignorant of the terrible dangers which beset the paths of others.
They shrink from the knowledge of evil; and who shall blame
them? But unless they face the fact that this evil does exist,
although they may never have been brought into personal con tact with it, they act but like the ostrich, " which leaveth her
eggs in the earth, and warmeth them in dust, and forgetteth
that the foot may crush them, or that the wild beast may break
them. She is hardened against her young ones, as though
they were not hers: her labour is in vain without fear; be cause God hath deprived her of wisdom, neither hath He im parted to her understanding." 1
No one becomes wholly wicked at once. The sin which
shocks us in its development in mature age, had its germ in
childhood and youth; and in the case under discussion that
germ is unquestionably to be found in the tainted mind which,
in the indulgence of a morbid curiosity, tampered with subjects
deadly to those who approach them without sanction, though
perfectly harmless when met with in the path of duty.
Society, indeed, does not utterly discountenance anything
but declared vice. But even that must have had a beginning.
When the thoughts are pure, the words will be pure; and when
the words are pure, so also will be the deeds. But let thoughts
and words once be tainted, and it is only God's merciful interposing Providence which keeps any human being from open
shame.
And is there no disgrace, even public disgrace, short of
that which is absolute ruin? Is it not disgrace to overstep the
1 Job xxxix. 14, 17.
281 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
modesty of a woman's nature? to be bold in tone and language? to stand upon the brink of sin, and give rise to the
suspicion that we may have plunged into it? Is it not disgrace
when young girls do and say things which make their brothers
blush for them? when they find amusement and satisfaction in
books in which the fundamental principles of morality are
utterly set aside?
How could fashion overcome nature, and convert the shy
retiring girl into the fast young lady, if the mind had not first
lost its delicacy? There may be a fashion in the shape of a
bonnet, or the trimming of a.dress, and it may vary with the
variations of fancy, and leave no trace behind it. But the
change from modesty to immodesty is no question of fashion.
It cannot take place without a corresponding change in the inward being; and if the manners of English girls are becoming,
what is popularly termed " fast," it is because the minds of
English girls are losing their native purity. And the disgrace
of that loss, who may estimate?
It seems a very hard thing to say;-so many there are who
do as others do without thought, and so many cases there may
be in which young girls are led into a style of behaviour in itself objectionable, merely because they have not the courage
to stand aloof and confess their inward shrinking from it. So
also in many cases the motto, " Honi soit qui mal y pense," is
perfectly true and applicable; and yet excuse, argue as we
may, the main fact remains. Things are done and said which
are unrefined, indelicate, immodest, and they cannot proceed
from a pure source.
And if they do not,-if a girl's mind is not pure,-if her
own instincts are so blunted that she cannotfeel evil before
she can explain it,-if she cannot shrink from it without
knowing why she does so,-may God help her! for the wisest
safeguards which the best of friends may provide for her will
never be sufficient to secure her from danger. 
We have looked at the worst consequences of this early
initiation into the knowledge of evil; but there is a brighter
288 
PURITY.
side to the subject. No one, however strict, would for a mo ment assert that these early offences are so ineffaceable, that
the mind, once tainted, can never be restored to purity. God's
grace, and an earnest will, and an incessant watchfulness, will
work marvels in the way of such restoration; but even then
it will never be anything but restoration. The scars will al ways remain; visible to the inward eye, though unseen by
man, and, as we may humbly trust, blotted out by God. And
they will not only be seen as scars, disfigurements, but they
will be felt as wounds; they will give the pain of wounds; an
ever increasing pain as the spirit longs more and more intensely for that purity of heart bestowed upon them who shall
hereafter " see God."
And we, by our ignorance, our absence of watchfulness in
infancy and childhood, have been, perhaps, the authors of that
pain! We have left a stain upon our bchildren's memories; a
thought of sorrowful reproach.  " Oh that I had been warned!
that I had not been left to the workings of my own mind! that
I had learnt in infancy to be ashamed of those things which I
felt to be evil, though I knew not why! But I was left without a word of caution, and now I can but struggle to forget,
what with that caution I might never have learnt."
Is not such a thought sufficient to rouse us to watchfulness? If we long for our children's happiness, is it possible
we can be indifferent to the pang arising from that deep humiliation to a mind striving after purity-the consciousness of
evil thoughts, the result of evil knowledge wilfully acquired?
-a consciousness which may haunt those who are exposed to
it through life, and never leave them until the gracious sentence of final acceptance is passed; and renewed, re-made in
the Image of Christ, they are once more pure, even as He is
pure.
And this, let it be remembered, is the best-the very best
-that we can hope for any one who has wilfully tampered
with the knowledge of evil; who has wilfully marred that
blessed simplicity which is indeed, as mothers so delight to
13
289
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
think, the inheritance of their young daughters, and which, if
only guarded in childhood and youth, would never be lost,
whatever might be their lot in after life.
"Unto the pure, all things are pure." 1 The deep meaning
of that saying perhaps nothing but the experience of years can
teach us.  We begin life shrinking from words and facts; we
end by acknowledging that words and facts have no power to
hurt us. Evil is that which is contrary to God's law. Whatever therefore is in accordance with God's law is not evil; and
it is only evil which we have any cause to dread. There are
women, in our own day, who are brought into immediate contact with all that is most repulsive and degraded in the sight
of purity; and we look upon them as doing the work of saints.
We see others tending the sick, performing the lowest, most
menial, and even loathsome offices, and we say that they are
following in the footsteps of ministering angels. Given the
sense of duty, necessity, labour for the good of others, and
there is nothing which may not be done, or spoken, or endured. The facts which taint the mind ineffaceably when learnt
through the indulgence of a wrong curiosity, leave no taint
when they come before us in the path of duty, or in the course
of nature. And the mind which is the most simple, which has
the least affinity with evil, will be found by experience to be
the bravest in confronting it. We dread that which contaminates us; but the sense of contamination arises from something
in our own hearts. God looks upon sin, and in the power of
His Omnipresence dwells in the midst of it. But He is not
affected by it. If we were Angels, we should not dread contact with any evil; and therefore if we would serve God as the
Angels serve Him, we must seek for that purity of heart which
will enable us to be fearless like them.
It is from thus unconsciously despising the teaching of
God, that mothers will sometimes forbid their daughters to go
amongst the cottages of the poor, lest they should hear or see
things which may shock their delicacy; whilst they allowthem
1 Titus i. 15.
290 
PURITY.
to sit half the day in easy chairs, reading doubtful novels; not
perceiving that they are thus fostering in them habits of indo lent self-indulgence, which in themselves have seeds of far
deeper evil, of the very nature they dread, than any they may
think to shelter them from.
The rule which has been mentioned holds good universally.
In the ordinary affairs of lifer the moral courage, the perfect
simplicity, the good sense which can face what is wrong, and
grapple with and overcome it, will almost always be found ex isting in exact proportion to real purity of heart. There are
evils in the world which we all more or less know, which we
all more or less deplore, but which we all unite in ignoring,
because we  shrink from acknowledging them.   We put a
varnish over everything. We refine our language till the
condemnation which God pronounces against sin is felt to be
unreadable. We make use of periphrastic expressions, and
think that by so doing we do away with unpleasant facts.
We picture to ourselves an ideal world, filled with ideal people,
and imagine that in this way we make the real world more
pure. But vice does not lose its evil when it loses its coarseness. Sin is not the less sin, because we dress it in silk and
satin, and call it fashion; and purity is not the more pure, because, in dread, it turns away its face from defilement, and
will not own its existence. On the contrary, real purity is essentially allied with truth. And when it is through God's
grace ours, we shall be able to confront life as it is, we shall
not fear to see it in its true colours, so far as that knowledge is
needful for God's service, though not one degree beyond; and
we shall turn away in greater disgust from the shams and
pretences of virtue than from the most openly acknowledged
vice.
If there is one proof stronger than another of the unreality
of the so-called refinement of the present day, it is to be found
in the literature which can be tolerated, and even admired.
Shakespeare is felt to be, in many parts, unreadable. The
Bible itself makes us uncomfortable; but we can take up a
291
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
novel-English or French, as it may happen-there is often
very little to choose between them-and dwell with satisfactory
excitement upon the most insidious and highly coloured pictures
of the approaches to vice, if not of vice itself, so long as the
unpleasant names which belong to it are avoided. If we were
to meet with them, we should be compelled at once to put the
volume aside. It does not signify what the evil may be which
is suggested; if it is not called evil, it is supposed to do no harm.
And why? Because society allows it. Because society has its
own standard of purity, and if a book does not fall short of
this, it may be admitted into the drawing-room, and even find
a place in the young lady's boudoir. Names-names are the
things we fear! Not thoughts, not feelings, too often not even
deeds-only names! Save us from these, and we give up all
else, as merely a question of fashion, and the manners of the
times.
Is this an exaggeration? Our own consciences must an
swer.
And now, what is the remedy? If the dream of natural
purity is destroyed; if evil really works insidiously, and, when
it has entered the heart, hides itself from our view, how is it
possible to guard against it?
We must go back again to the nursery, and seek for the
answer in the analogy of nature, and physical purity. Those
little infants whom we watch so unweariedly, require to be
tended with the greatest care, simply in order that they may
be kept now, and learn by degrees to keep themselves, in that
condition of cleanliness which is essential for their bodily wellbeing.  If we do not thius accustom them to external purity,
they will become insensible to it. Why this should be, is a
problem, which, it would seem, can only be solved by recognizing the condition of a fallen nature. Faces and hands, for
instance, require very frequent washing. In themselves, as
God made them, they are clean; but, though dirt is repulsive
and disgusting, there is nothiing more difficult than to make
a child keep itself as God made it. We are therefore very
292 
PURITY.
particular in enforcing nursery habits of cleanliness. We do
not trust to nature-to the fact that God has given the child
a perception of cleanliness, and an appreciation of it; but we
think it necessary to cultivate and educate that perception, till
it becomes a habit. And so, as time goes on, we find the re sults of this education. The children themselves shrink from
anything which is not clean. They guard themselves in a meas ure, though it is long before they can be entirely entrusted to
do so. As they grow up, and are thrown more upon their own
guidance, and placed in new positions, they necessarily learn
more of the existence of the many painful, loathsome specta cles that are to be seen in the world. Poverty, illness, igno rance, vice, force it upon them. They learn to think of it,
talk of it, reason about it. They are compelled to do so. It
is their duty. And this must be the case not only with men,
but with women.  But there is no real contamination in consequence. Even if they are brought into temporary contact
with it, it does not adhere to them. When called upon to discuss it, they are enabled to do so by the means of technical
phrases, which present the abstract idea of what is meant, but
give no distinct image of it to the eye. It is indeed this power
of seizing upon abstract ideas, and conveying them to one
another, which enables us in the least to carry on the necessary business of every-day life. Without it, we should all
rush from one another into the wilderness and the desert.
shrinking from the view of the infirmities of our common
nature. And so it happens that although this world is a very
dirty world, yet men and women can contrive to live in it satisfactorily, wvith a fair amount of cleanliness and comfort; and
even more than this, with real physical enjoyment from freshness and purity.  They do so, be it observed, not by ignoring
the fact that dirt exists, still less by closely examining it, but
simply by recognizing and guarding against it.
And from the analogy of these simple facts we may learn
how to deal with the question of moral purity.
Children are in one sense pure, even as in one sense they
293 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
are clean; that is to say, they have no knowledge of actual
evil; but they bear about with them a fallen nature, and if left
to themselvcs that nature will speedily develop itself. The
first thing to be done, then, is to guard against such development. God has very mercifully aided us in this task, by
making it part of a woman's nature to shrink from anything
which is wanting in delicacy and modesty: but this instinct is
very much stronger in youth than it is in infancy and childhood. At first it is scarcely perceptible, and it requires to be
fostered just as much as the sense of truth, or the habit of obedience. We punish a child severely for telling us a falsehood;
why do we not punish it just as severely for saying or doing
anything which is not refined or modest?  We  should be
shocked at the idea of placing our little ones in positions which
would lead them naturally to want of truthfulness: does it
never strike us that their nursery habits must lead them naturally to want of delicacy? It may be difficult to know how
to manage with them; but the fact that it is more easy to
herd them together as little animals, than to treat them as
beings born for Heaven, does not make it right to do so.
Thought, good sense, care, and watchfulness, will do wonders.
It is the principle which is needed, and it can always be enforced by a few rigid rules. Grown-up persons are often
thrown together in what would be very uncomfortable familiarity if they did not consult each other's convenience and feelings: why may not children be taught to do the same?
Mothers are extremely strict in maintaining the nursery
regulations which they think concern their children's health;
it would be very little increase of difficulty if they would take
the trouble to make and to maintain a few regulations which
concern their delicacy and purity. And when once established,
the latter would be much more easily kept than the former,
because nature then would become the assistant.  The refinement of feeling which was scarcely perceptible at the beginning
would strengthen day by day with habit; and at length the
children themselves would shrink from doing or saying any
294 
PURITY.
thing which was not in accordance with modesty. And any
offence against these regulations should be punished sharply
and instantly.  It is said that when Benvenuto Cellini was a
boy, his father thought he saw a salamander come out of the
fire, and pointing out the marvel to his child, he gave him a
box on the ears, that he might remember all his life that he
had seen the creature. A similar box on the ears would be a
very great help in teaching a child to remember when it has
been guilty of any offence against delicacy. Warnings, grave
reproofs, and good advice, are worse than thrown away in such
cases, for the child no more understands the nature of its misdeeds than Benvenuto Cellini understood the nature of the
salamander. What is wanted is not comprehension, but obedience; only, in order to obey, there must be commandsdefinite and rendered practicable-which shall be based upon
those common rules of decorum that must be observed in after
years, and which should be enforced on the nurse as well as
the children.
It must be confessed that this enforcement will be no easy
task. Education begins in the nursery, and yet it is there
that parents must trust a great deal to persons who too often
are very unfitted for the charge they undertake.
Good nurses are rare, and bad ones may do incalculable
mischief. And if children live entirely in the nursery, or apart
from their mother's superintendence, it is no marvel that they
acquire habits which may be their ruin. So also persons who
have small houses and small incomes cannot make the same
comfortable arrangements for their children as those who are
more fortunately circumstanced. The very best theoretical
laws may be laid down with regard to nursery habits and discipline, but it may be next to impossible to carry them out
efficiently, either because the nurse is incompetent, or the nursery is inconvenient. No system of nursery training of any
kind can indeed be suggested which is certain to work satisfactorily. The very fact that it is a system is against it. What
is wanted is principle, and for this the mother is responsible.
295 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
She must form her rules according to the capabilities of her
household. But when the right principle is once firmly established in her own mind, there can be no doubt that God's blessing will rest upon her efforts to enforce it in act.  If children
cannot have entire privacy, at least they may have it partially.
If boys and girls cannot be completely separated, at least precaution may be taken to avoid their being thrown together
without care. Arrangements may be made with regard to
time. Habits may be strictly watched. The nurse may be
taught that neglect upon these points will never be overlooked.
Only teach the little creatures, who have as yet but a dormant
sense of right and wrong with regard to these subjects, that
they are to take no liberties, to practise no rudenesses in the
nursery which would not be allowed in the drawing-room, and
then the instinct of modesty, delicacy, purity, which is God's
precious gift, will, through His blessing, be retained uninjured.
The teaching will be still that of nature, but it will be nature
as it came from the Hands of God, not as it has been corrupted and defiled by fallen man. And when the lesson of
modesty and refinement is learnt in the nursery, the task of instilling it as a principle to be acted upon, when children are left
to themselves, is well-nigh completed. The little girls may
perfectly well share the same room. They will only require
arrangements for privacy such as they have always been accustomed to. And as they have learnt to be modest in deed, so
they will be modest in words. That blessed, hallowed instinct,
which God has given them, and which has never been blunted,
will be their safeguard into whatever companionship they may
be thrown; and though they will not be entirely free from danger, it will be danger infinitely lessened.
Only one point will then require special warning and watchfulness. As the absence of sensitiveness is the source of evil
in the case of a little child, so curiosity is the source of evil in
youth. It grows with the growth of the intellect, and todtop
its working is next to impossible. We may check and reprove, and it will hide itself from us, but it will work still.
296 
PURITY.
Here again, for the sake of society, for the sake of the souls
of our children, for our own sake, let us not delude ourselves
by dreams, or think. by refusing to look at a difficulty, to escape
it! We have seen how nurses and governesses, for the most
part, meet the queries put to them. They defer the answer to
some future time, upon which the child's mind of course rests,
with eager expectation, as the period when all things myste rious are to be made known. But God deals with these ques tions in a very different way. From its infancy, the child is
made to perceive two facts which, in its own mind, uncon sciously stand to each other, though in a vague way, in the relation of cause and effect;-one is, that the habits of married
life are different from those of single life; and the other that
the birth of a little brother or sister is connected with its
mother's suffering and illness.
Nature, which is God's Voice, never told a child that
babies grow in beanfields, or are brought as presents by the
doctor! But nurses talk this kind of nonsense, no one reproving them for it; and then of course there arises a mystery and
perplexity in the child's mind. Nature and the nurse are at
variance. Curiosity is awakened, and in time, in spite of all
our care, it will be gratified unlawfully, to the injury, in every
way, of the moral sense. And that, because we choose to
make ourselves wiser than our Creator, and to suppose that it
is possible for the mind to be tainted by following the guidance
of nature and common sense; and kept pure by ignoring what
must be known as soon as reason begins to work; if it be only
through the plain words of the Bible, and the services of the
Church.
Again, mothers and governesses meet with awkward passages in history-and histories are unquestionably very often
most wrongly and unnecessarily coarse-and they slur them
over, they hurry by them. Probably they imagine that because the children ask for no explanation, therefore they seek
for none. They are very grievously mistaken. Those little
minds are working in secret, and will by no means rest satis
297 
PRINCIPLES OF EDIUCATION.
fled with having words and facts slurred over. If curiosity is
stronger than principle, the children will seek to be enlightened
by books,-forbidden books,-dictionaries, and such like.  If
they have, in the slightest degree, lost their delicacy, and
blunted their natural instinct, they will talk upon these subjects amongst themselves-with companions-not impossibly
with brothers; for brothers, unless very carefully warned, will
injure their little sisters' minds, in some cases irretrievably.
And how has such mischief arisen? Simply because, instead
of listening to nature, reason, and the Bible, those who have
had the care of the children have taken the mock proprieties
of the world to be their guide, and have followed the impulse
of moral cowardice, and averted their faces from a difficulty
instead of confronting it.
If there is one thing more patent than another to the apprehension of the whole world, including children as well as men
and women, it is the sacredness of the marriage vow-the allegiance due from a wife to her husband-from a husband to
his wife. When a wife forsakes her husband, or a husband
forsakes his wife, and cleaves to another, it is a breach of the
Seventh Commandment. Thus far any child can understand,
and thus far surely any parent or teacher can explain. It is
the explanation which St. Paul gives in the seventh chapter
of the Epistle to the Romans; and if, forestalling questions,
we would give it of our own accord, the little mind would, for
a considerable time, rest satisfied.
And this same kind of matter-of-fact explanation is ready
for us in many other cases of similar difficulty. Marriages
are events of great ceremony. Religion and the law of the
land are alike required to sanction them. If persons despise
this necessity, and choose to live together as husband and wife
without having made, solemnly and publicly, the vows required, their children are not acknowledged as legitimate;
and they, themselves, are stigmatized by certain names, commonly met with in history and in the Bible.
It is really necessary to give these illustrations, because
298 
PURITY.
the wonderful want of common sense, the wrong mystery fre quently exhibited in connection with these subjects, does more
irreparable injury than any one without experience and knowl edge of facts could possibly imagine. We come back, again
and again, to the same truth.   No  knowledge which God
gives by nature, or which comes to us in the way of duty
and necessity, can do us harm; but the knowledge which we
seek for ourselves, to gratify an evil curiosity, will leave a
wound which, on this side the grave, may never be entirely
healed.
Before a child's strength of principle can be trusted, the
temptation of curiosity must, then, as far as possible, be forestalled. When the occasion presents itself naturally, tell what
must be known, and tell it simply, without comment, or caution, or haste; above all, without any show of mystery, but as
a mere question of fact. In speaking in this way we are, as
in the other cases alluded to, following the guidance both of
nature and of the Bible. Every woman feels that if disagreeable subjects must be discussed, she can bear the ordeal perfectly well so long as what is said is put in a dry, businesslike form. The subject then passes from the mind, and is
forgotten. But the moment there is any apology made, or
any hesitation or shyness evinced, she shrinks back pained,
and, probably, disgusted; and the unpleasant impression of
the conversation remains, perhaps for years. From the same
instinct a woman will pardon a coarse word which may shock
her refinement, whilst a double entendre is felt to be unpardonable. And is not this one amongst many reasons why the
facts and the warnings of the Bible produce such a difbferent
effect from any others of a like kind?  There are no hints or
suggestions in the Word of God; for He who inspired it is the
Author of human nature; and He knows what that nature will
bear, and how it may most wisely be addressed. When the
Bible speaks of evil, it does so directly and simply, without
provoking curiosity, but as a repulsive matter of fact; and
viewed in this light, the purest mind will not shrink from confronting it.
299 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
But even supposing all needful information to have been
given, and that in the best form, there will arrive a time when
it will not be sufficient, when the mind will work further. And
then comes the appeal to principle. We are afraid, perhaps,
of awakening a thought of evil in a young girl's mind. We
shall not escape the danger by refusing to recognize that there
is such a thing as evil. What we may not choose to talk of
she will think of, and that often without at all knowing what
injury she is doing herself. There are, therefore, certain plain
cautions which it is our bounden duty to give. They may, indeed, excite the suspicion of hidden evil; but if they do, it will
be only that it may be guarded against, in the spirit of obedience and truth. If, in any case, curiosity should be dangerously aroused, and indulged in consequence, we may be quite
sure that it would have been awakened just the same whether
we had given the warning or not.
Some minds, indeed, appear to have a natural morbid craving for everything forbidden, of every kind. They must be
dealt with separately. We cannot lay down general laws for
them. But no child of ordinary refinement and right feeling
will be injured by being told that there are many things which
it is very undesirable she should know, and many forms of
evil which it is misery and shame to come in contact with, or
even to hear of; that to seek for knowledge upon these subjects is a sin, for it is yielding to the temptation which overcame Eve, when she ate the fruit of the tree of knowledge of
good and evil. It cannot be amiss to say to her, that whatever question she desires, from mere curiosity, to have answered, should be put to some person whom she respects; and
that if she shrinks from this, she may be sure it is better to remain in ignorance. Neither can it do her any harm to insist,
again and again, upon the absolute necessity of listening to the
slightest misgiving of conscience with regard to anything unrefined, or unmaidenly, or wanting in delicacy, which when alone,
or with others, she is tempted to say or do, at any time, under
any circumstances. If this sense of the paramount claim which
300 
PURITrY.
such instinctive feelings possess can only be fully impressed
upon her, it will save her, through God's mercy, from almost
all perils. God never leaves us without warning. We must
all, in looking back upon our young days, remember things
from which we shrank, without knowing why; words which
we dared not use, though we could not have explained them.
It may be- we may well thank God if it should be so-that
this instinct of ignorance remains with us still. There is no
fear now of our acting against it. We know how blessed it
is; for it brings back to us somewhat of the freshness and innocence of childhood. Except when duty requires the contrary, we desire nothing better than to have the knowledge of
evil kept from us. And we judge the feelings of the young
by our own. The things which are hateful and disgusting to
us will, we take it for granted, be so to them. There lies our
mistake. They have the same instincts, but they have contrary feelings warring against them. Knowledge of any kind,
especially that which verges upon the hidden or the forbidden,
is a temptation. Excitement of feeling, romance, imagination,
can dress up things, in themselves utterly loathsome, till their
true nature is entirely concealed. And even where there is
very little excitement or romance, Satan can make use of
sophistical reasoning, and whisper, that because it is not clear
to them why what they desire to do is wrong, therefore it is
permissible.
Here, perhaps, is the greatest peril of all, and it is at this
point that a premonitory caution would prove such an invaluable safeguard. When we urge upon children, in the very
strongest possible manner, the necessity of listening to God's
warning, given them through conscience, we strengthen that
warning, we make its voice louder. It may seem to us that
our words will have but little effect, yet we must utter them.
God guides the young in this way, and so must we. He does
not give them a full knowledge of the evil they are to avoid,
because by it their minds would be tainted; but He gives them
a check, the sense of a wound or pain, whenever they come
301 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
within reach of it; and so He bids them draw back. And if
we will only work with God, they will draw back. In some
happy cases, indeed, they will do so, whether we do our part
or not; but this is not the rule of God's government. It is
the exception, and we must not reckon upon it.  If God gives
warning, Satan offers temptations; and God has willed that it
shall, for the most part, depend upon education whether the
warning or the temptation be the stronger. It is impossible,
indeed, for us to begin too soon to warn children against the
sin of saying or doing what they would be ashamed for their
elders to know, because we can never tell how early evil may be
suggested to them. If, from want of moral courage, we neglect
to do this, then the guilt of thoughts, and words, and of deeds,
should such be committed, may rest upon our heads as well as
theirs. On the other hand, if we only take precaution in time,
the necessity for watchfulness will soon cease; and pass but a
very few years, and the thoughtless girl of thirteen or fourteen,
ready to plunge into any danger, to grapple with any question,
so that she may but have the amusement and excitement of
gratified curiosity, will have become the modest, self-controlled woman, who, in her dignity and simplicity, shrinks from the
unnecessary knowledge of evil as from its contact, and needs
no protector but God; no guide but the instincts which He
has given her.
One more caution may, perhaps, not unnecessarily be given.
If we desire wise and safe counsel upon these questions to be
given to young girls, we must take care that their advisers are
women.
To many persons such a caution will appear wholly uncalled for. Nature itself would seem to warn us that there are
subjects which a man was never intended to name to a young
girl. But experience tells us that this warning of nature is
not sufficient. Cases occur in which young girls trust themselves, or are trusted by others, to the direction of men, probably most excellent and pure-minded, and from these causes,
as well as from their sacred office, worthy of all respect; but
302 
PURITY.
wanting in one most essential qualification for the guidance of
a girl-knowledge of a woman's nature. When men have to
advise upon these points, they necessarily take for their assist ance one of two theories. Either they suppose that a girl's
mind is so innocent that she requires scarcely any warning;
or, reasoning from their own knowledge of human nature, they
imagine that, with certain reservations, they may safely give
her the same directions and cautions which they would give to
a boy. Now, neither of these theories is strictly true. Girls
do require a great deal of warning, but it is in order that evil
may be kept from approaching them, not that they may act ually see it, and be roused to do battle with it. They will
sometimes say and do things which might, under certain cir cumstances, lead to most fatal consequences; and a man, look ing at such words or actions, and knowing how likely the con sequences would be to follow in the case of a boy, gives warning and directions with a view to them. The result is that
the young mind is bewildered and disturbed. There is a vague
sense of some terrible evil of which nothing is really known.
The conscience is burdened, and self-respect is lost. With this
there must also be lost the energy and hopefulness which are
needed before improvement can be hoped for. A woman dealing with such a case would simply put aside the thought of
consequences,-certainly would not suggest their possibility;
she would merely insist most strongly upon the necessity of
caution on the score of delicacy, refinement, modesty, which
are what a girl thoroughly understands; and thus, whilst the
evil would be averted, the conscience would be left unburdened, and the brightness and simplicity of the character would
remain undisturbed.
It is a very grievous thing to distress a young girl's mind
with the fear of sins which may never approach her. She has
not yet the moral strength to bear it. Anger may lead to
murder, and grown-up people do well to remember it; but to
place such a consequence before the eyes of a sensitive girl,
and to give her directions as if she was in danger of commit
303 
CHAPTER XXIII.
LOVE.
BUT the education of young girls can scarcely be said to end
when they have attained to womanhood. They cannot be
thrown upon the world like men; and it will, probably, be
found, upon inquiry, that the parents who have trusted most
confidently to the teaching of nature in the nursery, are often
the most rigid in placing restraints upon their children in society. They act as they find it necessary; though, perhaps,
if they had only reversed their education, and begun with restraint in the nursery, they wotuld have found that all which
was needed in society was advice.
The instinctive delicacy of a girl's mind would then be her
own restraint, and we should no longer hear the rumours of the
worse than follies of fashionable life, which make those whose
paths are marked out for them, in more quiet spheres, shrink
from the thought of its temptations and its risks, as from the
possible contamination of open vice.
There is indeed a great natural difference in girls as regards simplicity. Some are flirts and coquettes almost from
their cradles. Others, though certainly these are exceptions,
never really understand what flirting and coquetting mean.
But, whatever may be the natural character, there can be no
doubt that the little incipient flirt, if brought up in an atmosphere of purity and refinement, may be converted into a lively,
agreeable, sensible woman; whereas, if her training is the reverse, she may become all that it is most grievous to contem 
CHAPTER XXIII.
LOVE.
BUT the education of young girls can scarcely be said to end
when they have attained to womanhood. They cannot be
thrown upon the world like men; and it will, probably, be
found, upon inquiry, that the parents who have trusted most
confidently to the teaching of nature in the nursery, are often
the most rigid in placing restraints upon their children in society. They act as they find it necessary; though, perhaps,
if they had only reversed their education, and begun with restraint in the nursery, they would have found that all which
was needed in society was advice.
The instinctive delicacy of a girl's mind would then be her
own restraint, and we should no longer hear the rumours of the
worse than follies of fashionable life, which make those whose
paths are marked out for them, in more quiet spheres, shrink
from the thought of its temptations and its risks, as from the
possible contamination of open vice.
There is indeed a great natural difference in girls as regards simplicity. Some are flirts and coquettes almost from
their cradles. Others, though certainly these are exceptions,
never really understand what flirting and coquetting mean.
But, whatever may be the natural character, there can be no
doubt that the little incipient flirt, if brought up in an atmosphere of purity and refinement, may be converted into a lively,
agreeable, sensible woman; whereas, if her training is the reverse, she may become all that it is most grievous to contem 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
plate. This every one will acknowledge. But what is meant
by an atmosphere of purity and refinement? The words sound
well, but what do they mean?
They have many meanings. The world translates them
into propriety. Propriety is easy of acquirement; purity difficult. And in these days we like royal roads from which all
the stones have been removed. So we make our children
proper.
To speak of love is improper, that is to say it is improper
so long as a girl is in the schoolroom. Up to Midsummer or
Christmas, in such a year, it is a subject tabooed even in
thought, because the young lady is not " come out;" but after
that time it is quite natural.
So again-novels must on no account be read whilst
French, German, and Italian, music and drawing are the occupations of the day; but the moment these sensible pursuits are
laid aside, then they are matters of course-needful for conversation; no one can get on in society without knowing something about them.
Here again, our " wishes are the fathers to our thoughts."
The children do not talk of love, therefore they do not think
of it!
But what is it that makes us so certain of the fact? It does
not appear that God has drawn any such veil over the subject.
On the contrary, children can have lived but a very few years
in this world without discovering that there is such a thing as
falling in love, and that a very common result of it is marriage.
And certainly we shall not prevent their thinking of it, by
making any mystery about it; for the love of mystery is innate in all children.  Still less shall we keep them from it by
shutting them up in the schoolroom, and not allowing them the
society of any but persons of their own sex, for all things
which are kept from us are invested with a double interest.
Neither is it, perhaps, such a very grievous offence that children should think of love and marriage, and even talk of them.
Free ventilation may be the best safeguard against moral as
306 
LOVE.
well as physical ills. It may be that a girl who looks at love
through a grating may be more excited by the contemplation
than one who is allowed to walk abroad, and view it as it
really is. At any rate, there is one very essential difference
between love looked at through the grating, and love as it
actually exists, which it is most desirable should be learnt
early; and yet which never will be so learnt unless a certain
freedom of observation and discussion is permitted.
Seen through the grating, marriage is the one end and object-the ultima thule-of a woman's life. Seen as it really is,
it is simply the most important accident of life. It is this
distinction which creates the difference between romance and
reality.
Romance says, " And so they were married, and lived
happily ever after."
Reality says, " And so they were married, and entered upon
new duties and new cares."
The child looking through the grating sees nothing but the
wedding day.  Neither is she told of anything beyond.  She
sees, indeed, that the sister or the cousin who is married is
an angel then, and an ordinary prosaic human being a year or
two afterwards; but the illusion is too strong for her youthful
imagination.   As it is difficult to separate the actor from
the person whom he has represented-as Mrs. Siddons must
always have retained more or less the form of Lady Macbeth
to those who had once seen her personate the character-so the
" lovely bride" of the newspapers is still the object of envy and
admiration to the child, even when she knows that she has
since become a worn, anxious wife and mother; expected to
wait upon her husband, instead of being waited upon by him;
and occupied in home duties, instead of the excitements of society.
And so marriage becomes the one dream of the secluded
child's imagination; or rather, not marriage with its solemn
responsibilities, its imperative duties, its great happiness, but
also its very serious risk-but, the white silk dress, and the
307 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
Brussels veil, the myrtle wreath and orange flowers, the wedding cake and the favours. And of course she believes that
the moment she is emancipated from the schoolroom these joys
are awaiting her; and as the preliminary to them must be
falling in love, therefore every gentleman who approaches her
must be viewed in reference to this important end. Will he
admire her, or will he not? Does he pay her attentions, or
does he neglect her for some one else? The time is come when
she ought to be married-when she must be married. How is
it that she is not? And so years go on, and possibly-very
possibly, in these days-they fail to bring with them the long
looked-for event. Slowly, most unwillingly, the truth forces
itself upon her: she is amongst those whose destiny has in some
unforeseen way been thwarted.
It was always meant that women should marry, but she is
not married. And what is to become of her? What is she to
live for?  What has life to offer?  It had but one prize, and
that prize has been missed. What then remains? Nothing.
Now, all this is very sad, very grievous; all the more sad
and grievous because it is a sorrow perfectly unnecessary,
brought upon the sufferer simply by the false way in which she
has been accustomed to look at life.
Women were meant to marry. Marriage is very important. A happy marriage is the most happy of all happy events.
But it is not the purpose and object of life, the final cause of
woman's creation. It seems almost absurd to suggest the
possibility of such an idea, and yet so-called rational human
beings talk and act as if it was; and fiction, being only the
counterpart of the world's facts, recognizes it as such, and thus
presents it to the imagination. Girls are so wrongly taught from
childhood that they are led to stake their all upon this one cast.
No marvel, therefore, that when they lose it, they sink in repining or despair. And the delusion begins in the schoolroom,
in the mystery and excitement which the very fact of a forbidden subject creates. Love and marriage as they are, are realities involving risks, responsibilities, duties. Would it injure a
308 
LOVE.
child's mind to hear them spoken of as such, and to be allowed
freely to express her thoughts, her hopes, and anticipations?
The real mischief of all such conversation lies in the gossiping
secrecy which usually accompanies it. When girls chatter among
themselves in their bedrooms, they do themselves untold harm.
When they talk openly in the drawing-room, to persons they
respect, they are safe. If these subjects interest them, and
naturally and rightly they do interest them extremely, they
ought to be allowed to say so. Their ideas may be very foolish, their anticipations greatly exaggerated, but so long as they
can be expressed plainly and simply, they themselves will be
simple-minded. And it is only in this way that the true view
of life can be put before them-that which faces the fact that
very possibly they never may marry; and that if they do not
-instead of being condemned to a life of desolate repiningthey will have to undertake another set of duties, to throw
themselves into a different sphere of interests, tending, even as
the duties of married life, to the training of the immortal spirit
for Heaven, and its preparation for the full enjoyment of that
Love which embraces all other love, and in which is to be
found the perfection of happiness for which their young hearts
are thirsting.
It sounds like an ideal-an imagination. It is so wholly
unlike the world's theory, as regards the vocation of women.
And facts and experience, it may be said, are against it.
From the beginning of time women have always set marriage before them as the highest joy, the completion of their
being. To the end of time they will continue to do so. What
is the use of bringing before them the dreams of hermits and
mystics, which not one in a hundred will ever be able to understand, and which if understood might unfit them for the duties
they are called upon to fulfil?
Simply, because if this view of life, which makes marriage
an accident instead of an end, is not true, then, with all reverence be it said, God has created a vast number of immortal
beings without a purpose. He has given them feelings, affec
909 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
tions, aspirations, power of enjoyment, but there is no object
to satisfy these cravings. If the inhabitants of the earth could
at this moment be paired, and each man could take his wife,
there would still be a surplus of women. What were they
made for? Why are they sentient, suffering beings? Far
better were it to be stocks and stones, or even as the beasts
that perish.   Created for an object which is unattainable.
Created merely to live and breathe-to eat and drink-to
joy and grieve-to dream of a happiness which is never to be
theirs-and then to die!
The very thought is blasphemy. The great Creator of the
universe, the Author of all good, has not thus erred in His
foresight. He has not thus failed in His calculations. If even
a sparrow falls not to the ground without His permission, if
there is a purpose in the creation of the tiniest insect that
breathes out its life in an hour, then there must be an end and
object for the creation of those many women, who, whether
shut up in cloisters, or free to find their homes in the world at
large, pass the term of their earthly probation without having
met with a heart which shall answer to theirs; or who, having
met with it, have not been able to enjoy the happiness of married life.
And that end and object must lie beyond the grave. There
is " one event which happeneth alike to all," and when we
wake up after it, it will be to find ourselves in a world where
there is " neither marrying, nor giving in marriage." The
destiny which awaits us there, is the destiny for which we are
created, for which we are now preparing; a destiny independent of earthly happiness, untouched by the accident of marriage. And when a woman looks forward to this, when she
makes this her object, the home for her thoughts, and the
dream of her aspirations, her needs are satisfied. God has
given her the knowledge of reality-the one awful, immutable,
eternal, ever-blessed reality-life in His presence-in the consciousness of His love; and she is content to leave the " changes
and chances" of this mortal existence in His hands; satisfied
310 
LOVE.
that, whether married or unmarried, whether in the enjoyment
of the highest human love, or of that which is only secondary,
she will equally find the pathway to Him in whom alone is
rest.
And then she is simple-minded.
It is a great grace-simplicity.  The most worldly admire
it, the most ardent followers of fashion strive after it; but none
but the simple in heart attain it.
Simplicity is singleness, oneness of purpose and desire.
That which mars simplicity is the fact of having two objects.
If a woman, a young girl-for it is of such we are now speak ing-desires but one thing, to fit herself, through God's grace,
for Heaven, her whole life becomes simplified. Everything
that happens is viewed with reference to this end, and judged
accordingly. It may be love, it may be marriage, it may be a
life without either; but in any case she has no wish except to
place herself in God's Hands, to see His Will, and do it now,
as she hopes one day to do it in Heaven. And with this simplicity of heart must naturally come simplicity of manner.
Manner is only the mould into which the inner being casts it self. Quiet ease, freedom from affectation, absence of restraint
in conversation. the natural expression of thoughts which are
really thought-all so rare, but so indescribably winning to us
when we see them united with the freshness and beauty of
youth, are the natural result of a simple mind; a mind which
has but one object. We sometimes perceive in persons both
young and old, who are pleasing, graceful, courteous, and perhaps really amiable, and in a measure religious, the presence
of something, not exactly put on, not exactly unreal, but which
gives the impression of unreality, and which repels us. We are
apt to call it worldliness; and perhaps we are right; but we
might better grasp what we mean, if we called it two-mindedness.
It is distinct from double-mindedness, for it is not the blending
of two objects in one, but the endeavour to hold both together,
to serve God and mammon. Such persons are never simple,
and it is the want of simplicity which jars upon us.
311 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
It is quite true, indeed, that persons may be simple without
being necessarily religious. Devotion to any one occupation
or study, to the exclusion of all others, will tend to render the
manners simple; but it will be an eccentric-probably, an uncourteous, awkward, simplicity-certainly not such as would
be pleasing in the young. And the simplicity of which we are
now especially speaking is that which regards a young girl's
manners in society, and especially in her intercourse with men.
Let her have two objects in view-one to do her duty to God,
and be happy in Heaven; and the other to get married, and be
happy on earth; and she will be in a perpetual state of effort
to harmonize the two. She will be full of fears, and proprieties, and perplexities, thinking whether this is allowable, or
that will be noticed; whether she has talked too loud or too
fast; whether she has been agreeable or dull; whether she has
expressed herself correctly or incorrectly. It may be all very
sincere and real; but it will not be in the least simple, and, as
a natural consequence, it will be far from pleasing. But let
her sole object be to accept life as it is given her by God, and
use it in the best way she can for His glory, and all this anxiety about propriety and effect will be at an end. Her womanly
instinct will tell her what she may or what she may not do;
there will be no self-consciousness or self-retrospection; and if
she should by any accident transgress the precise limits which
society has fixed for a young girl's behaviour, the mistake will
be one which the most severe critic will hesitate to criticise.
For there is a charm in real simplicity which it is quite impossible to withstand. We find it, in fact, so universally admitted,
that every species of vanity and worldliness will endeavour to
take its form, in order to render itself more attractive. The
simple young lady in novels can never see or understand when
a man is falling in love with her, though she draws him on by
saying and doing things which would be absolutely impossible
for true simplicity; since that never loses its common sense or
its keenness of feminine instinct.  So, again, the fast young
lady in real life apes simplicity when she sets aside the re
312 
LOVE.
straints of society, and dresses, talks, and acts just as vanity
or the spirit of bravado may suggest. But no one who has
the slightest insight into character can really be deceived by
any of these counterfeits.   True simplicity is something so
pure, so beautiful, so unearthly, that when once seen, nothing
else can ever be mistaken for it. There is that in it which is
felt, which cannot but be felt. It is, through God's blessing
upon it, its own safeguard, and vice dares not approach it.
Persons sometimes ask, Is simplicity a gift? If not born
with us, is it possible to attain it? It is, indeed, a gift, inasmuch as all good things come from God; but it is not a gift
in the same sense as beauty or talent. If we will only live to
God solely and heartily, it may become ours; for when we do
thus live, the question what is to be our lot during the period
of our probation becomes so secondary, that it ceases to disturb the mind, except when the question of some present interest is brought before it.
Again, all this will doubtless be thought imaginative, but
facts do not become imagination because it is the custom to
call them so. There is one touchstone which we may apply
without difficulty to this, as to every other question that has
respect to our earthly condition, and which we desire to see in
its true light-the thought of death.
If marriage is the one object which the world makes it,
then what becomes of that object at death?
It is essential for English girls, perhaps, above all others,
to be taught to view this matter rightly. Common observation teaches us that the number of these who remain unmarried         is inc reasing.  It is useless here to pause and inquire
why this should be; we are only called upon to accept the fact.
The   youn   g  girls whom we cherish and educate with such care
and tenderness may very possibly, even very probably, not
marry. It will be both wise and kind in us to prepare them
for such a possibility, and to teach them to be happy and useful
under it. AAd this can only be done by the tone of our con
14
313 
PRINOIPLES OF EDIUOATION.
versation respecting life in general,-taking in love and marriage as its most important accidents.
Free sensible conversation of a general character does
much more than lectures and advice in training a young
mind. We may preach, with the wisdom of a philosopher
and the earnestness of a saint, against the folly of thinking and
dreaming of love; and the children will listen to us with illconcealed impatience, and run back to their story books, and
their fairy tales, and revel in visions of handsome young princes
and beautiful princesses; act over again in their own minds all
the scenes of romance and excitement; and count the days till
they themselves are to be emancipated, and permitted to share
in similar delights.  Nature is much too strong to be controlled by lectures and advice. As a general rule, men and
women were intended to marry, and therefore young people
will always think about it. But truth, observation, experience, act as a counterpoise to the promptings of nature.  If
children are accustomed early to hear life spoken of as it really
is, they will by degrees learn to look at it in a true way. AIarriage, in fiction, is the end; in truth, it is the beginning of
what may be called a woman's career. An unmarried life is,
in fiction, a lot of sober sadness and regret, with no object and
few duties, and which nothing but the spirit of resignation can
make endurable. An unmarried life, in truth, may be (if
people choose to make it so) a life of great usefulness, great
interest, bringing to the mind a pleasant sense of independence and freedom, blessed with much inward peace, the very
brightest hope, and the possession of a Love, the faintest
breath of which is enough to make this troubled earth a
paradise.
Still, girls will dream of love; and if their dreams are
realized, their lives will indeed be blest. But to look upon
marriage as so essential, that it is needful to rush into it, in
order to avoid the supposed dreariness of a single life, isa mistake as fatal to goodness as it is to happiness.
What, however, will tend more than anything else to coun
314 
LOVE.
teract fiction, and to give a young girl a right view of the pro portion which marriage really bears to the other events of life,
is to bring her early into contact with men of a superior stamp,
a good deal older than herself, who will take no notice of her,
and only allow her to listen to their conversation. Elder
brothers are a very great assistance in this matter. Doubt less, they will be likely to flirt and fall in love-probably they
may marry; but matrimony is not the exclusive subject of
their thoughts, as it too often is in the case of girls. Profes sional affairs, politics, local interests, all share, and, at times,
engross their attention. Love is a good deal to them, but it
is by no means everything.   And not only brothers, but all
men who have good sense, and pursuits or professions which
interest them, will teach the same lesson. A girl who is
thrown into the society of men at an early age is much less
likely to grow romantic and sentimental than one who is shut
up in the schoolroom. She sees what it is which really occupies their thoughts; she learns to discriminate their characters; she perceives their faults, and hears their dispositions
discussed, and so is the less likely to be led away by an ideal.
Nothing is more dangerous than to bring up a young girl in
perfect retirement, and then to throw her constantly into the
society of any one man. Let him be who or what he may,
she is nearly certain, in time, to make a romance about him.
" Propinquity"-as Miss Edgeworth says in her novel of " The
Absentee"-" Propinquity "-that is the danger.  Throw people together exclusively, and they must fall in love. It may be
a case of Beauty and the Beast, but the Beast is sure to gain
the victory.   But bring a girl of fifteen or sixteen into the
society of a number of gentlemen, and she is so occupied and
amused in thinking about them all, that she has not leisure to
fix her thoughts exclusively upon any one. And seeing them
together, she will judge of them truly. They will talk to each
other as they would not talk if separated and thrown singly
into the society of women. When men meet one another,.the
pretty nothings which turn a young girl's head are, for the
315 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
most part, forgotten. They become interested in other things.
They prefer business to play, and the young lady is put in the
background. It is rather an unpleasant experience for youthful vanity, but it is a very useful one; and if it can be given
early, it will not really be mortifying. At fifteen it is natural
to be overlooked; and when a young girl has learnt that half
the gentlemen she sees think nothing about her, and of the
other half not above one in fifty is likely to fall in love withi
her, she moves about amongst them with a simple ease and
freedom from vanity and affectation, which saves her from unnumbered vexations, and is in itself a grace that no effort could
acquire.
Where there is great beauty, this ease and simplicity no
doubt become more difficult of attainment, because beauty is in
itself so attractive that even grave politicians and philosophers
are more or less fascinated with it.  But great beauty is very
rare. The vainest persons are those who have only a moderate share, and have set their hearts upon making the most of
it. A little wholesome neglect is for them most beneficial.
Where there is real beauty-beauty which cannot be questioned-it is perhaps better, as has previously been said, to
acknowledge the fact, just as riches or talent may be acknow]edged, and then estimate the gift at its real value. After all,
what a woman really cares for, if she is worth anything, is
genuine affection for herself. As she loathes the man who
worships her for her riches, and grows weary of him who cares
only for her talent; so she despises him who is the slave of her
beauty. There may be an intoxicating excitement in the first
adulation of the world, but it is very transient, and the heart
sickens when it is over, and in the dreariness of reaction a
most salutary lesson is learnt. Regular beauty is in fact by
no means so great a snare as that insensible fascination, which
in some cases is exercised over all persons; and which makes
its possessor the flattered pet of her friends and companious, as
well as the idol of society.
But all this endeavour to keep girls simple, and to make
,    il
,'...::  
~            r.,  
316 
LOVE.
them take a true view of life, its happiness, and its temptations,
must, it may be thought, be neutralized by the teaching they
receive from books. It is under this idea that novels are in
general carefully excluded from the schoolroom; and the ex clusion is, up to a certain point, very desirable. But to sup pose that a tale of love will do more harm at thirteen or four teen than it does at eighteen, appears upon examination to be
a mistake.
In what does the harm of novels consist?
First-above all in the untrue view which they afford of
life, giving it but one object, one prize, and staking the whole
of a woman's happiness upon this.
That is a harm which is certainly likely to be felt more at
the age of eighteen than at thirteen, for the immediate interests
of a girl of thirteen lie before her, in the schoolroom, amongst
her young companions. She gazes into the future, as men and
women gaze into Eternity; and lives for it, even as men and
women live for Eternity; owning its existence, dreaming of it,
thinking themselves influenced by it, and then turning away to
seize upon some passing joy, and find an absorbing interest in
hopes which wither as they are grasped.
But, secondly, the harm of novels is to be found in the excitement of the imagination; so that not only life as a whole
is viewed untruly, but the present position and circumstances
of the reader are, in her own eyes, idealized. She becomes
her own heroine, acts her own scenes, in her own home; converts the persons about her into characters of romance; and
by so doing blinds herself to the real world, its homely duties,
and demands for self-sacrifice and self-restraint. But here,
again, the danger is greater for eighteen than for thirteen.
The child of thirteen has lessons and regular work to do; she
is compelled to attend to them, and there is nothing in French
and German exercises to encourage day-dreams. But the
young lady of eighteen is emancipated from all this routine;
her time is at her own disposal, and everything about her tends
to foster instead of to check her imagination. There are per
317
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
sons standing near ready to be invested with imaginary charms.
There are incidents daily occurring, which may be the germs
of the event which is to change the current of her life. The
child of thirteen knows that to fall in love is an absurdity; the
young lady of eighteen thinks that it is her special privilegealmost her duty. And if novels have been kept from her up
to this precise moment; and then, emancipated from the schoolroom, she is allowed to enjoy them for the first time, at the
very season when she is able to convert them into realities;
can we wonder if the excitement should be too great for her
good sense, and she should plunge into a course of novel reading, throw up every attempt at continuing her studies, and so
lose, in vanity and nothingness, the most valuable portion of
her life?
The question is not whether novels are, in themselves, desirable for the mind. We cannot exclude them from the literature of the day; and if we could do so, we should effect no
good; for imagination is a faculty bestowed upon us by God,
and it requires to be fed, just as much as any other faculty.
Novels are not what they ought to be; but so, no literature,
be it poetry, history, philosophy, or science, is, in all things,
what it ought to be. We must, in this world, accept that
which is given us, and make the best choice we can from it.
Novels will be written, and they will be read. The point for
us to decide is, at what age, and under what limitations, such
reading shall be permitted.
Now, it will probably startle many persons to hear it said
that a girl of twelve or thirteen may not only with comparative
safety read a novel judiciously chosen; but, further, that
novels, generally, will do less harm than they otherwise would,
if the mind is accustomed to them early.
The assertion is made with hesitation, and is to be received
with much caution. But the previous observations may, it is
hoped, have tended to show what is meant. A child re,ds a
novel as she reads a fairy tale. The world described is an unreality, so are the persons described in it. They all live in
318 
LOVE.
imagination. They are not brought down to inhabit her own
earth; and it is only when they are thus transplanted that they
can really affect her moral nature. And when she has once
become accustomed to the excitement of fiction, that excitement lessens. The interest in a measure palls, and instead of
looking forward to being permitted to read novels as the
greatest delight in store for her, she begins to feel that there
may be a pleasure higher and more lasting in truth.  If this
conviction can be attained before the age when the imagination
is likely to be excited by society and the temptations of the
world, it is certainly a great gain.
On the other hand, there is, no doubt, a serious risk. If
novels are allowed too early, the taste may be so vitiated
that there may be no appetite for any food less stimulating.
This is the reason why such books are looked upon with sus
picion.
But the exaggeration of a truth does not neutralize the
truth itself. The danger here alluded to will be found to attend all works of fiction. If read constantly, to the exclusion
of every other kind of literature, they will all equally vitiate
the taste.  But it is not the admission of the element of love
which does the mischief. There is a fashion in all these matters. People adopt certain codes of laws,-without taking the
trouble to inquire why,-merely because others adopt them.
It is supposed that a book which treats of young people may
be safely read by young people, though there may be precisely
the same ingredients in it as those written expressly for their
elders. A book which describes little girls and boys as flirting is still a " young book," and therefore admitted into the
schoolroom; but a book which describes the devotion of the
heart, belonging to more advanced years, is not safe, and must
be excluded. So again, half the children in England would be
permitted to read such books as " The Wide, Wide World,"
and *' Queechy," in which fascinatingly simple little girls of
ten or twelve are petted and caressed by respectable gentlemen
of five-and-twenty or thirty, who afterwards take the form of
319 
lovers, and marry them. No one calls these books novels,
and yet they are novels, just as strictly as the most exciting
love story to be procured from a circulating library. And
what is more, they are much more likely to do injury to a
child's mind.   To suggest to a little girl that the kind friend
who is petting her, perhaps for her parents' sake, may some
day turn out a hero of romance, and ask her to be his wife, is
certainly more injurious to her simplicity than to put before
her a picture of what may occur at some far-off day between
herself and an individual absolutely unknown. And in like
manner, to interrupt the unconscious freedom of intercourse
between young boys and girls of fifteen and sixteen by thoughts
of incipient rivalry and jealousy, has a much worse effect upon
their minds than to let them know that such temptations may
meet them in after years:-to say nothing of the untruthfulness of these representations, since, as a general rule, girls of
sixteen cordially dislike boys of their own age; and boys of
sixteen, if they have any hearts to lose, part with them to
women of five-and-twenty.
It cannot then, strictly speaking, be the introduction of
love into works of fiction, which we dread, for, if so, we must
weed our schoolroom libraries of half their favourite authors.
Neither can it be fiction altogether; for then we must deny
the existence of the imaginative faculty, and the duty of providing food for it. The fact, perhaps, is, that we really do
not know what we dread, or why  we dread it.  We  have
bought our opinions ready made, and they serve our purpose,
we think, just as well as if we had formed them for ourselves.
But there is a curious tendency in society to work itself out
of these ready-made opinions; or, at least, to test them, and
throw aside those which are really valueless. It may be seen,
with regard to the present subject, in the common exception to
the ban placed upon novels, in the case of Sir Walter Scott's
writings. Almost all children are allowed to read the Wpverley novels, and it may perhaps safely be asserted that no child
was ever the worse for that reading.
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
320 
LOVE.
Why is this?  They are highly imaginative, intensely ex citing, not always refined in the language put into the mouths
of the different characters, and the plot of the story always
turns upon love. Nearly all the objections brought against
novels in general, might, in fact, be brought against Sir Wal ter Scott's. Nearly all-but' not all. There is one great ex ception.  They are true-true to nature.  They represent life
as it is, or as it has been, or may be. They place the interest
of life in those things which really do form its interest; love
being one ingredient, a very important one, but by no means
to the exclusion of others. What is commonly said of Sir
Walter Scott, that he always makes his heroes and heroines
secondary, constitutes in fact the great charm of his books, be cause, in it, is to be found their truth. And it is this element
of truth which renders them safe; it is this which we feel un consciously; and, as a general rule, it may be said that any
book in which the same element is found, may, without hesi tation, be placed in the hands of a child, whether the plot of
the story turns upon the little excitements of the schoolroom,
or the great excitements of love and marriage.
For where there is such a love of truth, such a perception
of it, there will also be a nobleness and purity in the mind of
the author, which must tell upon that of his readers. Vice is
only alluring when seen through a veil. No one who desires
to look at it as it is, can make it attractive in description.
Whatever Sir Walter Scott touches, into whatever scenes he
introduces his readers, the purity of the author's mind is felt
throughout.  It is with him, as with Shakespeare: the expressions which may be found fault with are merely characteristic
words-not vehicles for the writer's thoughts and feelings;
and it is these alone which have an influence for evil.
But Sir Walter Scott's tales are not the only books of the
kind which may be used with the view of accustoming children's minds to novels, without injuring their taste, or corrupting their principles. Historical stories, as a rule, are safer
than others, because the interest is divided between love, and
321 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
stirring events which have really taken place. But even
amongst regular novels, there are some-such for instance as
Mrs. Gaskell's " North and South," or " Sylvia's Lovers"which will be found to be equally innocuous. In the former,
the interest of the love is entirely subservient to the development of character, and to the marked peculiarities of the people of the manufacturing districts; and in the other, it' is carried on beyond marriage, and shown in its effects upon the
whole course of life. The mind and taste of a girl of thirteen
will be raised to a higher standard by reading books of this
stamp, when she does read fiction, than by spending her time
upon the first efforts at composition of girls but a few years
older than herself, although the incidents they relate may be
of the most perfectly harmless description.   And when the
mind has once learnt to appreciate a good novel, it will turn
with dislike from anything that is bad; not merely bad in the
sense of being wrong, but bad in style and taste; and this is a
great safeguard. So few novels are really worth anything,
that if a correct and pure taste has been early formed, it will
be impossible for the mind, when left to its own choice, to
find its whole satisfaction in the contents of a circulating
library.
But perhaps the greatest of all checks to the dangers of exciting fiction will be found in reading it aloud. An inferior
novel will not bear this test; but to read a good novel-" Ivanhoe," or " Kenilworth," for instance-to a party of children is
delightful. And there is no danger, then, of their becoming
engrossed by it to the exclusion of study; or being tempted to
deceit in the enjoyment of a forbidden pleasure. And, after
all, these are some of the greatest evils which an early acquaintance with novels is likely to bring with it. Everything done
or said against the warnings of conscience (supposing, of
course, that conscience is not morbid) becomes a sin, though
in itself the act or the word may be innocent. As St. Paul
tells us, " He that doubteth is condemned....  for whatsoever is not of faith is sin." 1
I Rom. xiv. 23.
322 
LOVE.
A story read aloud is also a test of the characters of those
who listen to it. More insight into children's dispositions may
be gained in seasons of recreation, by the knowledge of their
favourite heroes and heroines, and the criticisms passed upon
their conduct, than by the most careful observation made dur ing the hours of study.  And it is, besides-and this is very
important-a bond of sympathy between the reader and the
listeners. There are comparatively few pleasures in which the
old and young can fully sympathize; and it is most important,
therefore, to seize upon the enjoyment of reading, and to con nect with it all that pleasant interchange of thought, and unity
of feeling, which tends so strongly to bind human hearts to gether.
Reading aloud has another advantage. It gives the power
of weeding the book of passages which are objectionable-a
process of some difficulty, but which requires no concealment.
Children are quite prepared for it, and if they have the slightest sense of honour, they will never look into a book afterwards to see what has been omitted-so long, that is, as they
are plainly told that, as a general rule, there will be omissions.
It is only what they suspect that they are tempted to search
into. There are many portions of Dickens's works which may
be read in this way, and, indeed, this is probably the best opportunity for becoming acquainted with them. At the rate at
which the literature of the present day is proceeding, no writer
of fiction can expect his works to be universally read for more
than four or five years. At the expiration of that period his
first productions will be considered in a measure obsolete.
But even if good novels cannot be read aloud, they should
always be read openly, and discussed freely. There may be
portions, as in the case of the Waverley novels, which it may
be necessary to omit when reading aloud; but children, in reading to themselves, are so carried on by the interest of the tale
that they do not pause to dwell upon particular passages; and
even incidents which we should dislike to bring before them
ourselves, will be passed over with only a half-comprehension;
323 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
and if there is no mystery made about them in conversation,
they will cease to dwell upon their minds.
Mystery, hints, whispers-those are the things which mar
a child's simplicity; for mystery implies that what is attempted
to be hidden is, in fact, partially revealed; and when a part is
seen, the wish to discover the whole is awakened. Whatever
is read through, or spoken of without hesitation, does comparatively little mischief; and if, in reading aloud, awkward passages are stumbled upon unexpectedly, it is far better to go
through them boldly, than to show the least aversion to them.
What has now been said is, of course, open to much misconstruction. It may be interpreted to mean that novels are
recommended as desirable in general for children of thirteen
and fourteen; that they need not necessarily be unobjectionable; and that it is better to treat the evil contained in them
boldly, than to attempt to shun it. These assertions would
possess a fair semblance of truth, and, as a general rule, it is a
vain and hopeless task to attempt to guard against misconstruction. The most carefully guarded expressions-the most
exact words-will not save writers from it; and it is wise,
therefore, to be indifferent to it, or at least to accept it as part
of life's discipline. But the present subject is one of such importance, that, at the risk of tediousness, it may be well to repeat
more clearly, and condense into few words, the opinion which
has really here been expressed.
Novels are not recommended as general reading for very
young persons; but it is thought that a good novel-good in
style and pure in principle, and in which the interest is not
wholly concentrated on love-may occasionally be read aloud
to children quite safely, and with advantage, as accustoming
them to a class of books which would be injuriously exciting
if they were first given to them at the period of their introduction to the amusements and freedom of after-life. It is also
thought that children may safely be allowed, from time totime,
to read novels of this superior kind to themselves, so long as
they are encouraged to talk about them freely.
324 
LOVE.
It is a short conclusion, arrived at after many words. But
the theory and the practice of education are upon these points
so greatly at variance, that it has been necessary to enter fully
into the subject, in order to see how the difference has arisen;
and, if possible, to discover its cause, and the mode by which
such theory and practice may be made to agree. Parents and
governesses inveigh against novels, and yet children read them:
and in this there is a great evil; much greater to both parties
than would naturally result from the actual fact. If we believe that we are doing an injury to children by allowing them
to read a novel, then, at whatever cost, we are bound to forbid
the enjoyment. We can never justify ourselves to our consciences, or to God, by saying that " we do not know how to
prevent it; it is a kind of fashion, and the children would be
dissatisfied if they were forbidden to do what their companions
do."
There is in this case, as in so many others, a difficulty.
We slur it over, and think that by so doing we have escaped
it. But there is no way of escaping a difficulty except by facing it. If, in doing so, we are compelled to give up part or a
whole of some favourite and generally received theory, we
shall still be wiser, happier, and better, than by admitting it,
in order to agree in words with the serious, thinking portion
of our fellow-creatures; and acting against it, in order to
make ourselves friends with those who laugh all such caution
to scorn. It will be well for us, then, to ponder the question
carefiully, to make our rules with reference to the characters
of the children whom we have in charge, and to keep to them;
especially bearing in mind  that the selection of books  is
most important, and that it is essential to accustom children
early to restrictions with regard to them; whilst, in reference
to one style of literature-if it may be dignified by the namenewspapers, we are only safe by actually forbidding them.
Extracts may be read aloud often very usefully; but if the
paper itself is put into a girl's hands, she is almost certain to
325 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
stumble upon scenes and facts which taint the purity of the
mind, and excite a morbid and evil curiosity.
And now, it may be thought, having considered the preliminaries-the stepping stones-which lead to that point at
which a young girl may be likely to be thrown into general
society-to fall in love, and to marry-it may be thought that
the next subject would naturally be the circumstances and conditions under which an engagement may be formed. But the
idea of offering an opinion upon such a subject as this is really
absurd. The course of a comet may be predicted; but the
course of love can no more be foreseen, than its cause can be
assigned. If we are true, disinterested, and bent upon seeking
God's will, we shall act rightly in these matters; and if we
are not, no counsel will be of any use to us. And if children
have been brought up in habits of purity, simplicity, candour,
obedience, and reverence for all that is good and noble, they
will, as women, judge better for themselves, in all questions in
which their affections are concerned, than any one can judge
for them.
We may lay down the wisest, or apparently the wisest,
laws for ourselves, making the strongest resolutions against
some particular course of action which seems to us undesirable; but we shall almost certainly find that sooner or later
we are compelled to adopt it. It seems to be God's constant
lesson to us, not to attempt to be our own Providence, or take
the direction of our own lives, or the lives of others, into our
own hands; but simply to accept it. as it is marked out by
Him, and to do with it that which is most in accordance with
His law.
In France, parents arrange marriages for their children
themselves. We cry out against the custom, for we suppose
that a mariage de convenance can never be a marnage d'amour.
This, however, does not seem to be a necessary, though it may
be a frequent sequence; and if the results of the system appear to us unsatisfactory, yet the system itself has at least this
advantage, that it is a perfectly open and acknowledged mode
326 
LOVE.
of proceeding. The most honourable and conscientious per sons adopt it.
In England, the same thing is often done surreptitiously,
under false pretences, because it is supposed that marriage
ought always to be a question of free choice; and the effect is
degradation of character and principle to all concerned in it.
Here, again, we have a theory of one kind and a practice of
another, and in consequence deceit and unreality. Upon the
natural theory-that theory which supposes that children in a
nursery are angels of modesty, that little girls are models of
simplicity, and young ladies perfect in refinement and delicacy it is also presumed that no heart is ever won unsought; and that
no young girl ever thinks that an offer is going to be made her
until it is made. This is the easiest theory possible; it leaves
everything to take its course without any anxiety, any fore thought. Parents have nothing to do but to enjoy their children's society as long as they can, to invite to their house
whomsoever they like, to let young people be together just as
circumstances may point out. Everything is certain to go
right. A well brought up English girl can never oppose her
parents' wishes. If an offer should be made her by some one
considered ineligible, it will be sufficient to say that he is not
approved, and she will of course reject him. She cannot love
him-for upon the natural theory that is not proper!
And so it is that hearts are sacrificed-that the happiness
of life is wrecked.
French parents expect their daughter to marry a man
whom, perhaps, she does not actually love, but whose character, circumstances, and position are, they believe, likely eventually to ensure her happiness; English parents throw their
child into daily association with a man who, from poverty, or
ill-health, or from other causes, cannot give her the prospect of
a happy home; and then, when she has become attached to
him, and an offer of marriage is made, turn round and express
their extreme surprise, possibly their indignation, and'pronounce the sentence of separation for ever.
327
.1 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
Surely a theory which produces such results as these, must
be wrong! I  It may  beit is-utterly odious to plan and
manceuvre for a wealthy marriage, or one of rank, or, in fact,
for any marriage at all; but to say that we are therefore at
liberty to risk a young girl's happiness, by never taking
thought about marriage, is far worse than foolish-it is cruel.
If she is penniless, and we dread her marrying a poor man,
we are bound not to encourage the visits and the attentions of
those that are poor. If we know the secret history of any
individual, and feel sure that his character is objectionable, we
are bound to keep him at a distance. If we see symptoms of
an incipient attachment, we are bound at once to make inquiries, and to assure ourselves that should it come to a question of an offer of marriage, there would be no reason to withhold our consent.
These precautions are simply the dictates of kindness and
common sense. We may stop affection in the germ, and do no
harm; but in attempting to destroy it, when it has once taken
root in the heart, we risk the destruction of the hopes of a
life.
But if, negatively, we may so far interfere in questions of
marriage; positively, we must not. French customs in these
matters are sometimes adduced as in a measure sanctioning,
or at least affording a parallel to the manceuvring of fashionable mothers in England; but no one who has ever known
what the arrangements for a good French marriage really are,
would ever think of making such a comparison. It is one
thing for parents and friends to consult together beforehand,
and, with the gentleman's consent, to agree to give the parties
concerned an opportunity for knowing each other, and becoming really attached, which is the French custom; and quite
another to act without any such arrangement, and merely from
worldly ambition, to throw a young girl into a position in
which, it is true, she may attract the person it is wished she
should marry, but, on the other hand, in which she very probable may not. The one is a bond fide, open agreement, in
328 
LOVE.
which the wishes of the parties principally concerned are con sulted; the other is a mean, degrading speculation, involving
the almost certain loss of happiness-and on the lady's side,
the violation of every feeling of dignity and self-respect.
And even where there is no personal interest concerned, to
meddle in questions of marriage by bringing persons together,
and striving to give them favourable impressions of each other,
is a most dangerous playing with edged tools.
Supposing that by our efforts we can on one side awaken
affection, yet there is the risk that obstacles to marriage may
be interposed; and then the misery which will follow must be
laid at our door.  Marriages, the proverb says, are made in
Heaven.  People smile, and ask, whether this can be so, since
so many are unhappy? But that an event is ordered by God,
which is the graver meaning of the saying, does not necessarily imply that it is made for present happiness.
The events of life, among which marriage holds the foremost place, are not only sources of joy, but also of probation
and discipline. And when a young girl marries, God takes
her education out of our hands, and places it in those of
another. To Him we must leave the choice who that other
shall be. We have but a negative voice allowed us; and even
that only up to a certain point.
If we allow foolish intimacies which end in a foolish marriage, we are answerable for the misery of that marriage, because we could have foreseen, and ought to have prevented it.
If, on the other hand, we try to bring about a marriage, we
are equally answerable for its results, or for the unhappiness
which disappointment may cause.
All that we can do is to give young girls a high standard
for their judgment of men; to introduce them, as early as
possible, into the society of those who are really superior; to
guard them from constant intercourse with any whom we
know it would be unwise or impossible for them to marry;and then to leave the event to God.
329
'L 
CHAPTER XXIV.
FRIENDSHIP.
Bur suppose a young girl does not marry; suppose-which
is by no means so rare a case as some persons imagine-that
she does not make marriage her ideal of happiness; that she
is contented with a happy home, and useful occupations, and
is not always dreaming of her wedding day, or thinking that
every gentleman who speaks to her is going to fall in love
with her; is she, therefore, likely to escape the sorrows,
trials, and disappointments connected with the exercise of the
affections?  Is friendship perfectly safe, whilst love is proverbially unsafe? The home history of half the families in England would probably compel an answer ill the negative.
Who has not known more or less of the evils of an exaggerated or unwise friendship? evils which crept on so stealthily,
the germs of which were so slight, that it might have seemed
almost impossible to discover or check them. Jealousies, suspicions, unwarrantable influence, neglect of home duties, perhaps ultimate estrangement from home relations-all to be
traced to some unfortunate friendship!
And looking at these things, mothers dread their children's
friendships with cause; and yet, if young people have no friendships and do not marry, their lives will be desolate.
It is the mother's dream that she is to be sufficient for her
children's happiness. She forgets that they are not sufficient
for hers. What we all need is companionship of our own age,
whatever that age may be. The child, living amongst grown 
FRIENDSHIP.
up persons, pines for the society of children; the parent or the
governess, living amongst children, pines for the comprehen sion and sympathy of those of her own standing. And therefore the mother's dream, based upon an expectation contrary
to nature, is constantly doomed to disappointment; and, what
is far more important, it acts, as all unfounded expectations
must act, injuriously upon both the parties concerned. It
makes the mother unreasonable and exacting, and the child
ungrateful and irritable.
When a mother parts with her daughter in marriage, she
is, to a certain degree, prepared for and resigned to the knowledge that she must thenceforth hold but a secondary place in
her affections. It is the law of nature, and she receives somewhat of an equivalent for the sacrifice she makes, in the sense
of having secured a safe position and protection for her child
for life. But when she awakens to the fact that, without any
such claim from nature, and without having any such equivalent, her daughter's affections are withdrawn from her, and
that the confidence and sympathy, which have hitherto been
hers, are bestowed upon some female friend, perhaps a recent
acquaintance, perhaps personally distasteful, there does arise a
very strong sense of ingratitude-a very strong inclination to
look at the friendship in the worst light, and at once to interfere and put a stop to it.  She may try to conceal the feeling,
but it will show itself; and the moment it is discovered, the
daughter becomes restrained in manner, probably in words;
the mother is more annoyed, and shows her annoyance; the
daughter resents the irritation, and is irritable herself; and so,
by mutual reaction, the breach widens, until it can never be
healed. If the daughter gives up her friend, in her secret
heart she accuses the mother of having made her wretched;
and if she does not give her up, the jars, and jealousies, and
suspicions which are engendered, make life a torment.
Now, all this might often be avoided if mothers would only,
at the very outset, recognize the fact, which must sooner or
later be forced upon them, that there is a period in the lives of
331 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
all young people when their strongest affections will have a
tendency to centre themselves -on some one out of the family
circle.
The romance of almost every young girl's nature is first
drawn forth by some companion or friend; and in these cases
a little play of excitement and sorrow, jealousy and exactingness, often goes on, which is, for the time being, as absorbing
to the parties concerned, and as provoking to the bystanders,
as any of the true lovers' quarrels, which are commonly accepted as only making love more precious.
Some girls, who have no great depth of character, have a
succession of these romances: others are true to one. But
there are many of a graver character, who expend their feelings upon some persons older than themselves, whom they
invest with all imaginary virtues, and from whom they seek
advice upon subjects-especially those connected with religion
-which they have never had the courage to mention to any
one else. This latter phase of romantic friendship is often
more trying to a mother than any other, because it trenches
especially upon her own peculiar province. She considers herself, and very naturally, her child's best adviser; and it is extremely hard to see her counsel set aside for that of a new
friend, or followed only in compliance with this friend's request.
There is nothing to be said about all this, except that it is human nature; and as we cannot alter nature, we shall do wisely
in adapting ourselves to it.
The love of relations is one form of natural affection, the
love of friends another. The Bible recognizes both, and puts
each in its true place, so that they may not interfere with one
another. The tie of choice is the more exciting: the love of
Jonathan for David " was wonderful, passing the love of women;" 1 but the tie of nature is the more enduring.  Joseph's
love for Benjamin survived long years of separation and exile.
To say that a brother or a sister is a friend, is to state what is
considered a thing of course. To say that a friend is as a
1 2 Sam. i. 26.
332 
FRIENDSHIP.
brother or a sister, is to describe friendship of the most lasting
character. When our Blessed Redeemer called His disciples
His friends, He exalted them to the dignity and the privilege
of angels. When He said, " Go to My brethren, and say unto
them, I ascend unto My Father and your Father," 1 He raised
them above angels, for He acknowledged them as partakers of
His own Nature.
That the ties of relationship are very frequently severed,
and that when severed they are more difficult to reunite than
any others, does not, in the least, militate against their being
intended by nature to be the strongest of all. The tendency
of nature is never to be judged by its failures; and the very
fact that " a brother offended is harder to be won than a strong
city,"' shows how strong must have been that original principle of union which, when once lost, it is so almost impossible
to restore. And, if we would only have faith in the strength
of these natural ties, these bonds which God himself has formed, we should be less suspicious of those which seem the result
of choice. Being less suspicious, we should be more sympathizing, and with the presence of sympathy in relations, a large
portion of the dangers of friendship would be avoided.
Jealousy is the very cankerworm of love in every form, and
no mother need be jealous of her child's love, if she will only
act wisely. When a daughter can go to her mother, and speak
openly of the affection she feels for another person, be that
person young or old, there is little to be feared from  the
friendship.  And young girls will do this most willingly if
they are sure that their confidence will meet with encouragement. It is the perception of jealousy which causes reserve.
And though the excitement and romance of affection will go to
the friend for a time; yet in such a case, almost certainly it
will revert to the mother afterwards. The fact of finding in
her mother a person who can understand young feelings and
young pleasures touches a daughter's heart deeply; whilst good
sense and experience must ultimately teach her what the value
St. John xx. 17.         2 Prov. xviii. 19.
333
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
of that love is, which is independent of her own faults, or of
the accidents of life; and she will then look to her mother as
her friend all the more trustingly, because, under her sanction,
she has tried another friendship, and known its trials and its
precariousness.
And this necessity of sympathy with friendship as a safeguard against its risks, is applicable equally to those trying
cases in which young persons turn from their own natural advisers, and desire to be guided by some person out of their own
family. There is no question that such extraneous influence
may be injurious; but if, foreseeing the possibility of it, we
have allowed it to grow up without check, we are bound to be
merciful to it. Romantic and overweening friendships between
governesses and pupils are often found to be objectionable; but
instead of checking them at the outset, when the task would
be easy, they are frequently allowed to go on, because there
seems nothing tangible to complain of; and when the mischief
has reached its height, some sudden severance is effected. But
it is too late then to repair the evil. The influence has done its
work; and it may, perhaps, take years before it can be undone.
Undue influence and exaggerated friendship are things to be
watched and guarded against carefully, but they can only be
uprooted in their germ. When once they have been established, our wisest plan is to recognize them, and try to neutralize them by sympathy.
And if, as will frequently happen, the influence exerted
should be that of a really kind and wise friend-one who
sincerely wishes to give safe counsel-then, however greatly it
may jar upon our self-love, or disappoint our dreams of exclusive affection, we cannot do better than to suffer it to take its
course, and, even more, to encourage it. By encouraging, we
make the influence, as it were, our own. The daughter who
leans upon her mother's friend, does in fact lean upon the
mother herself, and by degrees she will see this; and then the
natural tie will be felt to strengthen and hallow the friendship,
and so by degrees influence will return to its natural channel.
334 
FRIENDSHIP.
Show anything like jealousy, and such a possibility is at an
end.
But it will perhaps be said, all these things are questions
of feeling. We cannot frame laws for affection. Persons will
love each other according to their own fancies, and not accord ing to relationship. And after all, what is the need of laying
so much stress upon natural ties? Why may not a friend be
dearer than a brother or a sister? Why may not a guide out
of one's own family be more reverenced than one in it?  Now,
this is misstating the case. We cannot frame laws for affec tion.  Nothing is more true.  We  may love a friend more
than a sister, and reverence some person out of our family
more than any one in it. And if friendship never went beyond
the expression of this feeling, we might have cause to lament
it, but no cause to blame. Even when young persons, or per sons of any age, belonging to different families, have formed so
devoted a friendship that they cannot be happy apart, it is still
only a misfortune. Circumstances do not generally allow of
individuals separating themselves from their relations, and
forming a home apart; and because of this, such exclusive affection awakens, in most cases, a tantalizing, dissatisfied feeling, and is likely to produce more unhappiness than happiness;
and therefore it is to be guarded against, though it may not be
condemned. But when romantic friendship puts itself forward
as having a claim above those ties which God has formed by
nature, it becomes the source of untold misery to all who are
connected with it.
And this is, of course, its tendency. Overpowering feeling
of any kind naturally claims to be its own law, in opposition to
the definite laws of God. It is the Dictator to which for the
time all must submit. And in the case of affection, this assumption cuts the Gordian knot of so many difficulties, that it
is not unfrequently adopted by friendship, as well as by love;
and persons will neglect the plainest, most paramount duties of
their homes, for the sake of some self-chosen friend, and think
themselves justified, because the feeling on both sides is so
335 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
strong that it would be cruel to expect a different course of
action. Now, such a delusion as this cannot, without great
difficulty, be mastered, when feeling has long been allowed to
hold dominion over reason and principle. And because, in
some form or other, more or less exaggerated, it is likely
to meet us continually in life, it may be well to inquire more
closely into the mental training which is required so to keep
affection in its proper place, that it may never claim an unlawful authority. For it is mental, quite as much as moral, training which is needed. The error alluded to is owing to a confusion of ideas as to the relative claims of natural and selfchosen relationship-taking that word in its extended sense, as
including the relations into which we enter with all persons in
the intercourse of life. These claims, like those of law, are
binding in different degrees; but the first paramount claim of
all is intended by God to be that of blood. In order to confirm this assertion, we need only remark the fact that civil
law, which is based upon natural law, is not at liberty to recognize any other claim. If two persons were to go into a
court of justice, and one were to rest his title to an estate upon
distant kinship, whilst the plea of the other was that of devoted friendship, the latter would be considered a madman.
And society recognizes the same imperative claim. The first
question which is asked when a man leaves his money to a
friend is: Had he any relations? And if it should be proved
that he had, although the relations may be distant and unknown, and the friend very dear, yet there will always arise a
certain sense of injustice; possibly not well founded, for the
claims of blood may be diminished till they become scarcely
recognizable; and the claims of friendship, on the other hand,
maybe of a very overwhelming character;-but the mere fact
that it is possible to argue upon the question, whether a man
who leaves his fortune to his dear friend, ought not rather to
have chosen as his heir his third or fourth cousin, whom he
has never seen, shows what the feeling of society, fouded
upon the laws of nature, is, as to the permanent claim of ties
of blood.
336 
FRIEND)SIHIP.
And if we look to the Bible, we shall find this claim
of blood everywhere clearly acknowledged and displayed.
Abram's appeal to Lot is, " Let there be no strife, I pray thee,
between me and thee, and between my herdmen and thy herd men; for we be brethren." 1 Joseph forgives his brethren
with a freedom from reproach which would have been almost
impossible if they had been only friends. Very grievous as
was the wrong which had been done to him, yet the yearning
for the restoration of the tie of blood was so great, that it
overcame the sense of injury; and every one in reading the
story accepts this feeling as natural.
The laws which Moses framed for the Jews under the
sanction of God, are all founded upon the recognition of the
same tie. The instances are too numerous to require quotation.
So also David, after the rebellion of Absalom, reproaches his
relations, his brethren of the house of Judah, that they had
overlooked this tie: " Ye are my brethren, ye are my bones
and my flesh: wherefore then are ye the last to bring back the
king?"2  And,  inspired by the Holy Spirit, he devotes a
special psalm to the description of the blessings which rest
upon brethren who observe it, and who "dwell together in
unity." 3
And when we turn to the New Testament, we shall find
that the family relationship is considered so sacred, that it is
adopted as the exclusive symbol of the more solemn and lasting
tie which exists between those who are admitted into the family of Christ.  "Brethren" is the one title applied to Christians
viewed in their relation to each other. " Brother goeth to law
with brother," 4 is the stern reproof of St. Paul. And the
duties of brethren include the exercise of a forbearance, courtesy, and sympathy, to be exhibited at all times, and under all
circumstances; and leaving no room for questions of choice or
varying feeling, such as might arise in the case of friends.
Brothers are brothers always, and so also are Christians.
Gen. xiii. 8.            2 2 Sam. xix. 12.
3 Psa. cxxxiii.           4 1 Cor. vi. 6.
15
33T 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
And why should all this be said? No one will dispute it.
Very true. But almost every one will, when the occasion
offers itself, act against it.
In fact, we make the very strength of the claim a plea for
disregarding it.  Because we know that the tie between brothers and sisters cannot, in one sense, be broken; too often we
venture to play with it and weaken it. Children are allowed
to do this in the nursery. They tease each other as they
would never tease their playfellows. They are rude to each
other when they would be ashamed of being so to strangers.
Boys tyrannize over girls, and girls are fretful and aggravating
with boys; and no one thinks it of much consequence. Brothcrs and sisters, it is said, always quarrel, and things will come
right by and by, when the children are older! Perhaps it may
be so.  There is a very wonderful tenacity of existence in
these family ties. It would seem sometimes as if no rough
usage could really destroy them; but the " threefold cord,"
which cannot be violently broken, may be untwisted; and the
hand which untwists will often unknowingly be that of a friend.
When the gentleness, consideration, and unselfishness, which
are rightfully the due of a brother or sister, are bestowed upon
a friend, there springs up a sense of injustice. Upon this will
follow unkind thoughts and reproachful words, and then will
come alienation of heart. And if children are not taught
from their infancy to recognize the fact that these family
ties have a paramount claim, they will almost necessarily
fail to perceive its truth; or if they do perceive it, they will
almost as certainly reason themselves out of it.  Personal
feeling, similarity of tastes, the mere romance of friendship, are all so many apparent counterbalancing claims to
those of family relationship. And the self-denial which is
required to act in opposition to them is great, and few will attempt to practise it.  Doubtless, it is the fact of the estrangement of the affections from home relations, which is th. real
grievance in the case of exaggerated friendship; but this estrangement is almost always accompanied by little neglects,
338 
FRIENDSHIP.
forgetfulnesses, want of accustomed sympathy, trifling acts of
selfishness, which awaken and aggravate the incipient jeal ousy; and which would have been guarded against if a due
consideration for home ties had been enforced from infancy.
People so little imagine the mischief they are doing-the
seeds of future discord which they are sowing-by allowing
their children to behave uncourteously to one another.   Fam ily life, in its great unreserve and familiarity, must always be
a trial to the infirmity of human nature.  Politeness, deference,
and mutual respect, which constitute the police of society, and,
upon the whole, manage to keep the peace well, are equally
required in private life. And the family, it must be remem bered, is the training school for the world.  The brother who
is taught to be courteous to his little sister in the nursery, will
be considerate to her when he is a man. The sister who
habitually regards her sister's feelings in childhood, will not
disregard them in later years.
Family feeling may, indeed, like everything else, be exaggerated. It may become prejudice and exclusiveness, but its fundamental principle is a right one; and as it is unquestionably one
of the great safeguards of social order, so it will always be
found to be the mainspring of right action in private life.
In many cases the claim of relationship is, indeed, the only
guide we have in the perplexity of conflicting duties. God has
stamped the seal of His approval ou it. He has made an of
fence against a brother far more deadly than an offence against
a friend.  Nature, society, declare it to be so; and the Bible
proclaims it in every page. The sin which may and must
separate friends, because it destroys the respect and affection
which formed the bond of friendship, may not separate the
members of a family. It must be acknowledged and lamented,
but it does not justify alienation. And the personal offence
which we should rightfully resent in the one case, must be
overlooked in the other. It is almost impossible to overstate
the importance of inculcating this primary principle upon children; for the events of life will try its strength to the very
339 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
utmost. The most fatal of all heirlooms is the inheritance of
a family quarrel; and yet no one can avoid the differences of
opinion which may lead to it; and nothing but the deepest
sense of the sacredness of the ties of blood will, in the hour of
trial, save us from becoming a party to it.
And, after all, watch as we will, warn as we will, friendship and family ties will continually come into collision, and
we cannot prevent it. It is an imperfection belonging to our
present state of being, and we have nothing to do but to accept
it. Yet we may, in some measure, guard against it. Even
when children are very little, we shall do well to watch their
companionships. When they are rather older, we shall be
wise in checking altogether anything approaching to extreme
and exclusive intimacy. Girls of twelve or thirteen are much
better without anything of the kind. The charm of such intimacy generally consists of secrets and confidences which are
exceedingly injurious; and as it is difficult to prevent these
without showing suspicion, it is safe to keep the children, if
possible, out of the way of temptation. But beyond this age,
when the mind and the deeper feelings of the heart begin to
develop, we shall probably do more harm than good by interfering with friendship. If we can share it, we may render it
safe. If we insist upon the observance of all family claims as
a first duty, we may lessen the risk of its interfering with family happiness, but we can do nothing more.
Human affections are in the hands of God.   He only can
direct them. And ignorant as we are of the events which lie
before us, it is not for us to say what will or will not be best
for our children's happiness.  We interfere roughly with a
girl's friendship, and we erect a barrier which prevents her
from ever again clinging to us in confidence.  We think that
we are saving her from undue influence, and we leave her to
desolateness of heart. Far rather may we trust these things
to God. Where there is no actual right or wrong in the ease,
where there is no moral reason for interfering to stop a friendship altogether, the question of its degree is one which it is
340 
FRIENDSHIP.
best to leave. We can never make young people care for each
other less by telling them that their love is foolish. If we will
but wait patiently, time and the changes of life will work for
us in many ways which we could little have anticipated. And
after all, friendship is part of the discipline of life. It is in tended to have a certain influence in the formation of charac ter, and God, through its means, is effecting that formation.
We are apt to think that we can do so much in developing
character. We talk as if human hearts were in our own hands
to mould just as we will; that we may make the young what
we choose by placing them in safe positions, giving them good
associations, surrounding them by wise friends. It is all a
mistake, founded upon the supposition that we know what is
safe, and good, and wise. We have only to watch the trees
and flowers: the children we love so anxiously are just like
them. What can we do for them? Plant, water, prune,
train-it sounds like positive work: but look into it narrowly,
and it is only negative. Rain and sunshine, dews and frosts,
must be sent in the proportion which God sees fit, or our plant
will not flourish; and if, attempting to take the work out of
His Hands, we remove it from its natural soil, and place
it under shelter, and watch over it exclusively ourselves, it
will die.
341 
CHIAPTER XXV.
THE PRINCIPLE OF RELIGION.
MANY subjects have now been discussed in connection with
Education-Law, and Obedience, Reverence, Truth, Justice,
Selfishness, Pride, Vanity, Purity, Love, Friendship; and the
principle which is the basis of all law, that without which
every other principle must fail of its completeness, has been
omitted. Nothing has been said definitely of education in
Religion.
The omission has, perhaps, appeared strange, but it has
had a purpose.  We are sometimes told that before receiving
any other instruction children should be instructed in religion.
Now, what do people mean when they say this?  What is the
popular idea of religion?
The answer will probably be, Christian doctrine-the Love
of God, founded upon the revelation which He  has made of
Himself, in Jesus Christ.
Undoubtedly, this is one phase of religion-its most important phase. But religion cannot mean only this, because,
if so, what do we understand by natural religion-that religion
of which Bishop Butler speaks, when he says, that "the general system of religion is, that the government of the world is
uniform, and one, and moral; that virtue and right shall finally
have the advantage, and prevail over fraud and lawless force,
over the deceits as well as the violence of wickedness, under
the conduct of one Supreme Governor"? 1 Surely this refers
to a religion distinct from Christian doctrine.
1 Butler's Analogy, Part I. chap. iii. 
THE PRINCIPLE OF RELIGION.
No, it may be replied, it does not refer to religion, but to
morality.  But what is morality?  How is it to be distinguish  ed from religion? If it implies obedience to the moral laws
of our nature, who impressed upon us those moral laws?
Was it not God? And must not everything which has ref erence to Him  be religious?   Can truth and justice exist
apart from Him? And when we educate children in truth
and justice, are we not, so far, educating them religiously?
It may appear an abstract question, of no very great mo ment, and yet upon the answer must depend the whole system
of religious education.
If religion and morality are entirely distinct, then certainly
we are required to explain clearly to a little child, from the
first dawn of reason, what religion means.  We must point out
wherein it differs from morality, and insist upon the superior ity of those duties which have reference immediately to God,
over those which are connected only with man.  But if, on the
other hand, morality is and always must be more or less relig ious, then we may be happy in the consciousness that every
time we instruct a child in its moral duties, and teach it to be
truthful, obedient, reverent, and unselfish, we are actually instructing it in religion; and we may choose that mode of inculcating religious duty which the child can most easily comprehend; taking the course which God appears to point out in
nature, and leading it upwards from the laws of its own moral
consciousness, which it perceives intuitively, to Him who is
the Author of those laws.
Under this view, we shall recognize, as a child's first religious act, the obedience which the little infant pays to its mother, before it can even comprehend the fact of the Being of a
God; and every successive act of obedience, or, indeed, any
exhibition of moral goodness, may then be regarded as an act
of religion.   It is not required that the child shall clearly
understand the obligation of these moral laws; it must obey
long before it can understand them; but the principle of subjection to them is the same principle which must afterwards be
343 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
more fully developed when it is capable of understanding the
moral obligations which are involved in man's relations to
God, not only as his Creator, but also as his Redeemer and
Sanctifier. 1
The man who can understand these relations, and fails in
the duties of gratitude, devotion, and obedience which are
rightly consequent upon them, is irreligious;  but the child
who cannot understand them, and therefore fails to fulfil them,
is not irreligious, so long as he does fulfil those obligations
which are open to his comprehension.
A mistake upon this point is the source of very fatal errors
in education. Earnestly religious parents, desiring above all
things that their children should grow up in the love of God, and
acknowledging nothing as worthy the name of a religious act,
but that which proceeds from the definite motive of devotion to
Him, strive to awaken in their children that same deep sense
of Christian doctrine which they find so infinitely influential
in themselves. They imagine that by constantly quoting the
Bible-especially those portions which refer to man's sinfulness and our Blessed Lord's Atonement-and by appealing to
the children's feelings of love and gratitude, they shall arouse
interest, and quicken affection. When they find that they fail
-that the children become cold and constrained, and shrink
from these subjects-they say that it is an evidence of the corruption of a fallen nature-the result of the natural alienation
of the human heart from God. Perhaps they redouble their
efforts-most certainly they pray for the children's conversion;
or, as they term it-with a singular disregard of the distinct
meaning of the two words-their regeneration.  But through
it all, they feel it is a case in which man is so entirely helpless,
that he can but bide God's time; submitting to His Will,
whilst mourning over the hardness of heart of the children in
every other respect so amiable.
But suppose the truth to be that the children are not really
averse from religion, but that they shrink from the peehliar
1 Butler's Analogy, Part II. chap. i.
344 
THE P?RINCIPLE OF RELIGION.
form in which it is presented to them; that they cannot under stand it, and that, from some cause or other, it jars upon them.
This is quite possible; in fact, if we examine the question
carefully, we shall find that it is very probable.
The foundation of Christian doctrine is the sense of sin,
the deep consciousness of the need of a Saviour. The man
who, after a life of alienation from God, wakes up to the per ception of God's just hatred of sin, and his own danger in con sequence, feels this need intensely. The Atonement of Christ,
and his own consequent pardon, are to him the very foundation
of peace and unutterable thankfulness. He rests upon that one
thought, and it becomes to him the mainspring of a new life.
So also the man whose heart is already devoted to God, who
strives to serve Him with a perfect service, feels more and
more, day by day, the infinite imperfection of his service, and
the absolute necessity of some other plea than his own righteousness, if he is ever to hope for acceptance with an AllHoly God. With him also the Atonement of Christ is the one
thought of rest, and the one influential motive of action.
But when we speak to a child of this deep sense of sin,
this overpowering need of atonement, we speak to it of what
it can only partially understand.
The conviction of sinfulness cannot possibly be overwhelming in the heart of a child, for it is only learning by degrees what sin is. It is in the effort to be obedient, truthful,
reverent, loving, that it perceives its own weakness. The
more a child longs to do right, the more it will grieve because
it does wrong. The " law is its schoolmaster to bring it unto
Christ."' If we expect to bring it to Christ without the law,
we shall fail. For this order of religious training is that
adopted by God in His dealings both with the world in
general, and with the Jews in particular. The history of the
heathen before the coming of our Lord, is the history of
fallen man's vain and fruitless efforts to find out God, and to
please Him. As St. Paul said to the Athenians, God "' hath
I Gal. iii. 24.
345 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the
face of the earth, and bath determined the times before appointed, and the bounds of their habitation; that they should
seek the Lord, if haply they might feel after Him, and find
Him." 1 Mankind failed in this search. Some few amongst
the heathens, indeed, recognized the law of God in their own
moral nature, and set themselves to obey it; but they were
powerless to convert their fellow-creatures; and when at length
this powerlessness had been fully shown, the great principle of
renewal-faith in Him who had atoned for sin-was revealed,
and the weary heart of man accepted it, and the world became
Christian.
So also it was, in a measure, with the Jews. They were
in the position of children, and the mode by which God taught
them to know Himself, is that which we must employ, if we
would teach our children to know Him. The Jews had a perfect law given them in the Decalogue, which was the republication of the natural law written upon their hearts. They
had also many positive laws, based upon this natural law. It
was said to them,'" Keep these laws and ye shall live." But
they did not keep them; and because God knew that they
could not, therefore He gave them also sacrificial rites,
shadowing forth the One Great Sacrifice which was eventually
to be made for the sins of the whole world. It was in the
midst of their shortcomings, and by the means of them, that
He led them to look to something out- of themselves, as the
plea for their acceptance with Him. The principle of obedience led them on to the principle of faith. When they knew
that they had disobeyed, they knew that a sacrifice must be
offered. They connected the idea of atonement with that of
sin.  They learnt the need of it through the obligation of law.
If the Jews had been left without definite laws, or without
having them enforced upon their observance, they would never
have appreciated the mercy which appointed the means of pardon; and if called upon to be thankful for those means, their
I Acts xvii. 26, 27.
346 
THE PRINCIPLE OF RELIGION.
hearts would have refused to respond to the appeal. And the
obligation of law, and the need of atonement, were, it must be
remembered, the lessons of every-day existence. The minute ness of the Jewish laws brought religion into the daily life of
the Jewish people. An undisciplined race, fresh from the
servitude and degradation of Egyptian bondage, they could
never have worked out for themselves the necessity of absolute
obedience to God in small things as well as great. The per fect law of the Decalogue, so broad and deep as to embrace
the whole compass of man's duty, would have failed to influ ence them, because, in its vastness, it would have been mis understood. It requires the thoughtful mind of the philosopher
to reason out the truth that negative commands imply positive
duties; and that the omission of the latter is a breach of the
law, as really as the neglect of the former. The Jews were
taught their own sinfulness and weakness by secondary rather
than by primary laws. And in this respect children are precisely like them. The very necessity we are under of bringing
them up upon rules-though rules based upon principlespoints out the mode by which insensibly and involuntarily we
educate them in the comprehension of the nature and the extent of sin. The first consciousness of evil in the mind of a
little child is not that of vanity or worldliness, or indifference
to God; but of some trifling act of disobedience towards its
parents; the infringement of some temporary law; and the
first sense of sin against God is awakened by the fact of having
sinned against man.
But we must observe further, that this sense of sinfulness,
developed by the transgression of laws which are not in themselves obligatory, but which derive their authority from the
person who enforces them, will never produce the same keen
sense of guilt, as the transgression of the eternal laws which
are part of man's moral nature.
The Jews must have felt this, and they were permitted to
feel it. It is true that all their laws came immediately ~rom
God, and were all therefore binding to an extent which can
347 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
belong to no law proceeding from human authority; but the
difference between the feeling of repentance for sins against
secondary laws, and that of repentance for sins against primary and eternal laws, is clearly shown in the one instance
in David's life, in which we are told of his especially offending God.
The Almighty had commanded sacrifices to be offered for
the sins of the Jewish people. He had given minute directions
concerning them, and David had been a devout observer of
these directions during the whole course of his life. But when
he sinned in the matter of Uriah the Hittite, we read nothing
of a desire for such ritual atonement. The offence was too
grievous, the conscience was too deeply wounded, to be soothed
by anything short of the direct pardon of God; and in the sorrow of his heart David exclaims, " Thou desirest not sacrifice; else would I give it: Thou delightest not in burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and
a contrite heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise." 1
This is the repentance of the man as distinct from the repentance of the child. The latter is the prelude to the former,
but it is not and cannot be the same; and therefore when we
appeal to a child's sense of guilt, speak to it of the wrath of
God, the necessity of punishment, the abounding mercy of our
Redeemer's Atonement, and the unutterable gratitude which
is due from us in consequence of it, we are appealing to a
sense which, though it exists in the germ, is not yet fully
developed; and as a necessary consequence the heart is cold.
Now, if we attribute this coldness to the natural alienation
of the child from God, we shall of course be unhappy, and
perplexed. The child will be to us a little heathen, and
we shall be inclined to treat it as a heathen, to lament,
and expostulate, and entreat, and argue; and-worst of
all-to exhibit our own feeling, to express ourselves enthusiastically; and the result of it all will probably be that the
child will become more and more cold, more and more averse
1 Psa. li. 16, 17.
348 
THE PRINCIPLE OF RELIGION.
from our society, and why? Simply because we are talking
to it of what it does not yet understand, and of feelings which
it cannot as yet recognize as real: and the mind of a child
shrinks, as instinctively, from the slightest touch of unreality, as the sensitive plant does from the touch of the human
hand.
But meet a child upon its own ground, speak to it of the
faults and feelings which it does comprehend, and all this
coldness and deadness will vanish.
It knows perfectly well what to be naughty or wrong
means; it has not yet learnt what being wicked means. Then
let us take the sense of naughtiness, and touch the feelings
through it. We may not complain of the child because it
cannot see that all faults are sins; though unquestionably they
are so. That knowledge will come by and by, and a very
bitter knowledge it will be; and when it does come, the heart
will open to God, and repentance, and confession, and prayer,
and the need of atonement will follow. But for the present
let us be contented with and thankful for what we have.
Better far is it that the child should say to its mother in simplicity and sincerity, "I am sorry I have been so naughty;
please forgive me;" than that it should adopt the language
which it does not feel, and say, "I am a grievous sinner,
and I cast myself upon God's mercy in Christ as my only
hope."
Cant is very easily learnt-cant of all kinds; whether it
takes the form of Scripture texts and peculiar phraseology, or
of a vain and morbid self-inspection and confession; and cant
is the mortal enemy of true religion.
There will, indeed, be occasions in which more than this
human sorrow, if it may be so called, will be felt, and more
expressed; when, as in the case of falsehood, the innate instincts of the moral sense have been wounded; and the little
heart awakens to the awful consciousness that it has sinned
against its Maker.   Such instances are, however, comparatively rare, and as a general rule, we must content ourselves
349
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
with a repentance which will fall far short of this, and which
yet does not in the least betoken hardness of heart, still less
indifference to religion itself, especially when it is exhibited in
a practical form. Any person who has ever had experience
in dealing with children will know that nothing is more easy
than to arouse their earnestness and interest upon subjects
connected with their moral improvement; so long as they are
spoken to simply and unaffectedly, with gentleness, sympathy,
and without any direct appeal to their devotional feelings.
That they cannot endure. If these feelings do not exist, it is
irritating to have it supposed that they do. If the contrary,
the natural reserve of youth, and the instinctive sense of the
sacredness and delicacy of such a subject, make it next to impossible to mention them; and should they be led to do so,
it must always be with the risk more or less of unreality,
since a child's religious experience is almost necessarily mixed
up with vanity and self-consciousness as soon as it is brought
to light.
And are we, then, to leave what is peculiarly called religion, entirely? to bring up a child upon the system of heathen
philosophy-trusting to time and thought to expand this moral
teaching into Christian doctrine?
God forbid! We will look again at the education of the
Jews. They were taught their sinfulness by the experience
of their inability to keep the laws which were given them;
but they were also taught God's willingness to forgive, by the
sacrifices which were coffered and accepted. These sacrifices
were of various kinds; but the morning and evening sacrifices
were of daily occurrence.  How much they understood of the
typical meaning of these rites is uncertain. The comprehension must have varied according to the thoughtfulness and intellect of different individuals; but the solemn mystery which
lay hidden under them must have become more clear to the
Jews as a nation as years went on, and the prophecies expanded the truths originally shadowed forth in symbols-and
ceremonies; since we find that when the great Antitype ap
350 
THE PRINCIPLE OF RELIGION.
peared there were those who were "looking for redemption in
Israel," and who anticipated the advent of the Messiah as the
fulfilment of all which the law had prefigured.
Now, what sacrifice was to the Jews, that the habit of
prayer, in the Redeemer's name, is to a child. The sacrifices
had a double meaning; they were acts of outward obedience,
and types of the Great Atonement. The Jew who looked
deeply into their meaning, and assisted in them with real faith,
was doubtless more acceptable to God than he who merely
participated in them as an act of obedience; but the outward
worship was required alike of all; to all it was the daily reminder of sinfulness and atonement. As the mind of the nation developed, the Jews were, indeed, taught more and more
clearly how valueless was the external act apart from the
inward spirit. The Prophets gave them striking and solemn
warnings upon this point: " To what purpose is the multitude
of your sacrifices unto Me? saith the Lord: I am full of'the
burnt offerings of rams, and the fat of fed beasts; and I delight not in the blood of bullocks, or of lambs, or of he goats.
... When ye spread forth your hands, I will hide Mine
Eyes from you: yea, when ye make many prayers, I will not
hear: your hands are full of blood." 1 But the laws of the
Pentateuch enforce sacrifices with a strictness which appears to
show that the act itself was important, apart from the comprehension of the worshipper. When the Jews as a nation were
able to feel the meaning of their, rites, then that feeling was required of them: but whilst they were in a state of infancy-only
learning to know God-the outward act of obedience, so long
as it was performed in the spirit of obedience, was accepted.
Somewhat of this same character may surely be remarked
in the mode by which nature and custom teach us to educate a
child in religion-by means of prayer. There may be some
who suppose that it is useless to teach a child to pray until it
can understand the meaning of the words it uses; but this is not
a very common belief. The generality of persons-if they
1 Isaiah i. 11, 15.
351 
PRINCIPLES OF EDIUCATION.
have any religious feeling at all-teach their little ones, as a
matter of course, to repeat prayers, morning and evening, as
soon as they can begin to lisp the words. They do it, they
know not why. They obey what may almost be called an instinct; even as the Jews acknowledged the necessity of the
morning and evening sacrifices, with only a distant understanding of what was implied by them. But if persons are very
earnest, they probably are not satisfied with this practice;
prayer is to them the expression of the inmost soul-they wish
it to be so with their child. The little voice utters those allpowerful words-" through Jesus Christ our Lord; " and the
mother longs to make the heart unite with it. And quite
rightly-quite naturally. But it will not be quite rightly and
naturally if she supposes that she can really carry out her wish.
She may explain, and the child may listen, and-what is infinitely wonderful-grasp the abstract idea presented to it. But
abstract ideas do not touch the heart; they are but the distant
glimmer of the Eternal Light which is to be our guide to glory;
and the mother will be greatly disappointed, if she imagines
that because her child from the very dawn of reason was led
to think and speak of God, and of salvation through Christ,
therefore it can be led to act from what are peculiarly termed
religious motives.
It may be well to look into this more narrowly.  That a
child's mind can take in the idea of God-comprehending in
that idea Infinity, Eternity, Omnipotence, and Omnipresence
-is a proof that it was originally made in the Image of Him
in whom these attributes centre.  That it can recognize moral
truths, is a proof that, in the Being from whom its nature is
derived, moral perfection is embodied: and so also, it would
seem, that the readiness with which the little child receives the
two ideas of Incarnation and Atonement is a witness to the abstract truth of these ideas.
But we must all know the difference between recognizing
great truths intellectually, and recognizing them morally and
practically. It is only when the abstract is presented to us in
352 
THE PRINCIPLE OF RELIGION.
the concrete, that the latter effect is produced. The God of
the Pantheist and the God of the Christian alike represent Om nipotence and Omnipresence, Eternity and Immutability; but
the one is an idea, the other a person, and it is only as a Per son that the perfections of the Deity can awaken personal feel ings. Love, gratitude, reverence, obedience, are aroused, not
by the abstract idea of God, but by the perception of His actual
being and His moral attributes.
Now, the abstract is grasped at once. It is felt before it is
understood; the idea of truth is grasped, by being felt, though
the child cannot explain what truth means.' The concrete, on
the contrary, is understood only by degrees. And from not
appreciating the distinction between these two forms of comprehension, parents are often startled and perplexed in dealing
with their children's minds. They find in their little ones most
marvellous powers of taking in the very deepest abstract ideas,
united with the most infantine absurdity in the mode of exhibiting them.  One moment, a child appears a prodigy of intellect and thought; the next, a prodigy of simple ignorance. It
will put together the most incongruous ideas, exciting the sense
of the ludicrous in connection with the most solemn subjects,
and all the while be perfectly insensible to the incongruity. In
these cases, it is trying to form a concrete representation of
the abstract idea which it has in its infant mind; and because
the true representation is not yet realized, it creates for itself
that which, it imagines, most nearly approaches it.
Not long ago a little child of two years old said to its mother,
" I shall go up to heaven quite alone, but I won't be shy.
Only I won't shake hands with God, but I will kiss Jesus
Christ, and play with the angels."
Every one will feel that although a smile may rise to the
lips when these words are repeated, yet there is no smile in the
heart, but rather a tear. For as the child spoke she recognized the spiritual under the material, and touched the fountain
springs of that poetry, which is far deeper than philosophy.
Unconsciously the little mind had grasped the abstract ideas of
353 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
the awful, incomprehensible Nature of God, the Father; the
human as well as the Divine Nature in God, the Son; and
the finite Nature of the angels. The wisest philosopher could
not know more than the child felt. When she wished to express these abstract ideas she seized upon the first concrete
ideas which presented themselves, and under these forms she
exhibited them.
The result might, to our blunted perceptions, be ludicrous;
but in the sight of God we may not doubt that it was sacred
and acceptable.
The working of the same incongruity with similar results
may be perceived in the infancy of poetry and art; in the latter especially.  The Pre-Raphaelite Madonnas, and Fra Angelico's Angels, at the first careless glance strike us as quaint if
not grotesque. Study them more closely, and the purity of the
abstract ideas embodied in them comes clearly into view; and
the very discrepancy between the majesty of the conception,
and the childish simplicity of the execution, touches our hearts
to the quick.
Wonderful as a child's unconscious grasp of abstract religious truth unquestionably is, it cannot, however, be depended
upon as a motive power, apart from its realization under a
true and definite form. Yet in most cases it is the utmost that
can be expected either in infancy or for several years afterwards.
Let us look back ourselves. What can we recall as our
understanding of the meaning of the Lord's Prayer when we
were very young? Or even yet more simple prayers, the first
we were ever taught, how vague were the ideas which the
words we uttered conveyed to us! To expect deep feeling in
connection with those half perceptions would be as unreasonable as to expect that the Jew, who assisted at the offering of
sacrifice in the wilderness, and understood that in some way,
he knew not how, it shadowed forth an awful sacrifice to come,
could feel what the disciples felt when they stood at the foot of
the Cross; or what we ourselves may sometimes have felt,
354 
THE PRINCIPLE OF RELIGIO0N.
when, burdened by the intolerable sense of sin, we have knelt
at our Redeemer's feet with the cry: " 0 Lamb of God, that
takest away the sins of the world, have mercy upon me!"
Pray, children must. It is their one recognition of their
immediate duty to God. And be taught the meaning of prayer
they must; for as their minds develop God will require the
worship of the whole being, and we must gradually prepare
them for it. And pray in the name of the Redeemer they
must; for however little they may realize what is involved in
that Name, it is, and can be, their only plea for acceptance;
and, by degrees, God will open the eyes of their mind, and
teach them how to rest upon it. But if we attempt to force
feeling, if we desire to draw it forth, and gaze upon it, in
order to satisfy ourselves of its presence, we shall infallibly
destroy it.
There is, indeed, a sorrow for faults committed against
man, which a child will express naturally and readily; and
very touching, and full of self-reproach it is to the proud spirit
of mature years, to hear the simple confession, " I am so very
sorry," come forth as it often does from the very depths of the
little heart, which is only just beginning to feel its capabilities
of sin. The natural impulse of an earnestly religious parent,
then, is to lead a child upwards from this feeling to the higher
sense of having sinned against God.  And it is, no doubt,
quite right to bring before it this deeper view of the fault that
has been committed. But when we have done this, we shall,
in almost all cases, be wise to pause.  A very few words said
,with real earnestness, and without any restrained solemnity of
manner, will be sufficient to show our meaning, and then the
child is much better left alone to the working of its own conscience, and the influence of God's Spirit. Feeling, if excited,
will rarely show itself in our presence. We may kneel down
and pray-some persons would think it wrong not to do soand the child may kneel by our side; but the act of kneeling
is not prayer. Left to itself, the young heart, if really moyed,
would pour itself forth without restraint, and would, perhaps,
355 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
learn, for the first time, what prayer really means; but the
feelings awakened towards God can at that age be expressed
only before God. The slightest shyness causes restraint and
coldness; and thus, instead of assisting, we only check the
devotional feeling, and the child leaves us, conscious of a jar,
and with a fresh sense of sin from finding in itself, as it supposes, a dislike to religion.
This observation is, indeed, open to correction. Children
vary, as grown-up people do, in sensitiveness and reserve.
The fact that some persons care only for extempore prayers,
whilst others find their devotion chilled by them, is a sufficient
proof that weve cannot lay down rigid laws upon this subject.
But it is certainly safe to calculate upon a child's reserve upon
sacred subjects; more especially as this will prevent us from
yielding to disappointment if we do not discover any indication
of religious feeling; or from pursuing that most unwise plan
of forcing its expression, in order to convince ourselves that it
exists.
But acquiescence in what is apparently a state of dormant
religion in children must, of course, be based upon the acknowledgment that they are members of Christ's family; and that
their inward development may be safely left to the working of
the Holy Spirit in their hearts.  If we do not accept this fundamental truth, we shall no doubt be miserable about them,
until we see some distinct evidences of their regeneration apart
from their obedience to the moral law.
What view those who do not look upon their children as
admitted at baptism into the family of Christ take of their con;
dition, it must be left to themselves to explain; but there is
probably no person who has accepted this truth as a starting
point, and patiently and conscientiously acted upon it, in a
course of Christian education, who will not bear witness to the
wonderful assistance which it gives in training and developing
Christian feeling and principle from the very dawn of reason.
It must do so necessarily.  The first idea of definite religion
which the child grasps is that of the Existence of God. But
356 
THE PRINCIPLE OF RELIGION.
this abstract idea requires to be presented in a certain form,
before it can influence conduct. Tell the child that God is its
Father, and you have the true form at once. The relation of
child to parent is the actual relation in which, according to the
acknowledgment of all Christians, the true follower of the Re deemer stands to his Almighty Creator. Half the difficulties
of our religious life, both in doctrine and in practice, would
vanish, if we would only reason upon the feelings and acts of
God, according to the analogy of this human relationship.
The little child, therefore, who is taught that God is actually
its Father, sets out on its Christian course with a clue by
which it may learn to disentangle almost all difficulties. From
the love of its earthly father, it learns to understand the love
of its Heavenly Father; from the sense of dependence in the
one relationship, it learns to realize what is meant by dependence in the other; from the tender sympathy of the elder
brother, it learns somewhat of the nearness and sympathy of
Christ; from the spirit which pervades the family, uniting
them in one body, it learns to realize the existence of the one
gracious Spirit dwelling alike in every Christian heart. All
these lessons depend upon the one primary truth that the child
is God's child. Take away this, and the truths derived from
it must of necessity be negatived. And in like manner, as it
has been before observed, recognize the fact that the child is
Christian by virtue of its baptism, and you can afford to wait
patiently for the evidence of definite Christian feeling. The
little one who is taught that God is its Father, learns to be
religious, as it learns to be obedient. Submission to a parent
is its first notion of duty, but the abstract idea of a parent is
blended in its mind with the abstract idea of God. The two
grow and expand together. Obedience to the earthly parent
becomes sacred, because the relationship is the same which exists between the child and its God, and thus the little daily acts
of submission become insensibly hallowed. The child does not
know, consciously, that it is acting from the wish to please
God, but it feels that thle parent embodies the idea of God; and,
357
I
L 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
blending the two, it increases, even as the infinite Redeemer
Himself, " in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and
manl." 1
For there is growth, though it may not be evidenced to us,
in the particular form in which we have been led to expect it.
The blossom is not the fruit; yet, without the blossom, there
would be no fruit; and the blossoms of religion are reverence, obedience, and truth, as its fruits are faith and love.
Watch over the former, cherish and nourish them, and, through
God's grace, in due time the fruits will appear. Attempt to
force the fruit, and we may, perhaps, obtain a few feeble
specimens, which we may regard, for the moment, as marvels, and call upon the world to admire; but the plant from
which they have been gathered is, in its constitution, sickly,
and when the time comes that it must be exposed to the bleak
winds of temptation, it will, in all probability, perish.
1 St. Luke ii. 52.
358 
CHAPTER XXVI.
DEFINITE RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION.
WE have spoken of what may be called the blossoms of religion, as distinct from its fruit. Of these, the one which peculiarly needs cultivation as a preparation for religious feeling
is reverence.   The moralist, the sceptic, or even the unbeliever, may strive to bring up a child in obedience and truth,
but to recognize the primary duty of reverence belongs exclusively to the Christian.  For by reverence, in its full sense, is
meant not only mental reverence, though based upon the full
acknowledgment of the power and goodness of the Almighty;
but outward, personal reverence, such as no one can mistake;-reverence evidenced by signs, as clearly as the respect
shown to the position of an earthly sovereign, or the dignity
of human authority.
To make a little child kneel down quietly, repeat its prayer
carefully,' rise from its knees slowly, and remain still for a
1 Prayer, though the most important of a child's religious duties, is that
over which we can exercise least direct influence, except with regard to outward reverence.
We may not interfere with it; we can, only in a general way, give hints
for its guidance. Forms of prayer are very necessary at first; but we dare
not insist upon their being always used. We may, however, as young
people begin to take an interest in religious subjects, suggest the desirableness of collecting and arranging prayers, psalms, and hymns for themselves;
and if they desire such aid, we may assist them in the work. We may also
point out strongly the necessity of constant prayer, and that not confined to
the morning and the evening. At special solemn seasons, we shall find that
even a very young and thoughtless child will be thankful to be given a short 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
few seconds before its mind rushes towards other subjects, may
seem mere formality to the mother, whose only thought is how
to make it feel the words it utters; but it is the only lesson of
religion which it is in her power to give, and, in all probability, it is the only one which the child, for some years, will be
capable of receiving. Words of repentance put into a little
child's mouth, or repeated for it, do not, necessarily, awaken the
feeling of repentance, because the child does not as yet understand the nature of sin. But a child's reverent action calls up
the spirit of reverence, because there is in the very nature and
position of childhood, that which answers to the appeal. Children are born reverent, because they are born to recognize and
submit to power. Many things-carelessness, temper, pride, the
difficulty of fixing attention-may give rise to irreverent actions,
but the spirit of irreverence is not inevitably connected with
them. And if we would only, from children's earliest infancy,
accustom them to be simply reverent in all things connected
with their religious duties, we should do more towards maturing the spirit of religion in their hearts than we could by
giving them the fullest doctrinal instruction, or accustoming
them to the freest expression of their needs in their daily
devotion.
" These ought ye to have done, and not to leave the other
undone."' Doctrinal instruction, prayer from the heart, are
excellent-most  excellent-but they belong to a more  advanced age. The child of two years old may be made reverent; and when it is old enough to receive instruction, it will
listen all the more humbly, and when it pours forth its first
conscious petitions, it will be all the more earnest, because,
prayer, to be used in the middle of the day; whilst, as time goes on, the
practice may be urged as most important always; for it will tend, more
perhaps than any other habit, to deepen and perpetuate religious feelings;
and the check upon self-indulgence which it necessitates, will, even apart
from the great spiritual blessings to be expected from it, help to keep the
young mind real in its religion.
1 Matthew xxiii. 23.
360 
I)EFINITE RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION.
before it could either understand or pray-in the true sense
of prayer-it was made to exhibit in action that first principle
of religion-which, as yet, was all it could comprehend-rev erence for the Almighty Being who created it.
And surely this is the teaching of the Bible. Reverence
was the one great lesson given, first to Moses, and then to the
people whom he was to rule-the nation of children.
" Draw not nigh hither: put off thy shoes from off thy feet,
for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground....
And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look upon
God."
" And Mount Sinai was altogether on a smoke, because
the Lord descended upon it in fire: and the smoke thereof ascended as the smoke of a furnace, and the whole mount quaked
greatly.... And the Lord said unto Moses, Go down,
charge the people, lest they break through unto the Lord to
gaze, and many of them perish." 2
And following out this principle, the whole of the Mosaic
law was an exemplification of the principle of reverence for
God's Name, His sanctuary, His ark, His priests, His worship;
a reverence shown in the most minute details, as if it was a
point so carefully to be guarded, that without it no other form
of obedience could be acceptable. It was the teaching needed
for the religious education of childhood.  With the deep devotion, the vivid realization of religious truth which belongs to a
more advanced period of life, reverence is joined of necessity;
it becomes a thing of course. And so it is that we find in the
New Testament the external forms of reverence left almost
entirely to man's choice, whilst the inward Spirit is insisted
upon as the one thing needful.
"God is a Spirit," were the words of our Blessed Lord to
the woman of Samaria, "and they that worship Him must
worship Him in spirit and in truth."'
But this outward reverence should, in the case of children,
I Exod. iii. 5, 6.                   2 Exod. xix. 18, 21.
16' St. John iv. 24.
16
361 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
be very simple. To kneel, or stand, or sit perfectly still, and
to repeat solemn words slowly, will be quite a sufficient effort
for a very little child. And as time goes on the lesson will be
more and more frequently inculcated. If the Bible is read
there will be a little preparation for it. It may seem a very
small thing to move all other books from the table when a
party of children gather together for Scripture reading; or to
insist that no other book shall be laid upon the Bible; and yet
this strictness will recall the attention of the most thoughtless.
A prayer, such as the Collect for the second Sunday in Advent,
said, as the children stand up before beginning to read, will
force upon them that the Bible cannot be studied like any other
volume, but that it requires the special aid of God's Spirit if
we are to profit by it.  And in reading, if, instead of having
the sacred words stumbled over by those who can scarcely pronounce them correctly, and certainly cannot appreciate their
meaning, the mother or the governess would read them herself,
a vast amount of unintentional irreverence might be saved;
whilst the risk of inattention may be prevented by careful
questioning, and explanation afterwards. This habit of reading the Bible to children, instead of making them read it aloud
themselves, is also an advantage, because it admits of a choice
of chapters and passages in the Old Testament, which, especially in a mixed company of boys and girls is both helpful
and desirable.1
The daily reading of the Bible is a duty which we are all ready to
own, but with regard to which we frequently find a difficulty in educating
children. Some persons suppose that this daily reading ought necessarily
to be always devotional. But this does not appear to be the intention of
God in giving us the Bible. The sacred volume is historical, geographical,
social, political, poetical, as well as devotional; and under these phases it
requires a careful study, without which the strictly devotional portions
cannot be perfectly understood.
Why this should be so, it would be presumption in us to attempt fully
to decide; but it is evident that if the Scriptures had been, as we are often
inclined to wish, thoroughly clear on all points, mankind would never, for
such a long series of years, have found in them an engrossing occupation
362 
DEFINITE RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION.
Reverence in learning and repeating sacred lessons, the
Psalms, Collects, Catechism, Hymns, &c., ought, also, to be
strictly.enforced. It may be permitted to give the sense instead of the words of a lesson in other cases; it cannot be so
where the words to be remembered are sacred. This necessity
of correctness in repetition will involve more time in learning
what is to be repeated; it will make the words seem more
important, and will impress that importance upon the young
mind. God's Words, or even those words which speak of
Him, will not be common, and, therefore, they will be more
fully valued.
And so, also, with regard to behaviour in Church.  Perfect reverence, involving an absence of all affectation and
singularity of gesture (which, indeed, awaken not reverence,
but self-consciousness), will be found absolutely essential if we
wish our children to grow up in that " fear of God" which will
lead them to depart from the "M ways of evil." But reverence
in Church, we must remember, demands restraint for a much
longer time than reverence in private prayer. And a little
child cannot bear this restraint, and we must, therefore, be
merciful to it.
for the intellect as well as the heart. Even as, in like manner, if the laws
of nature had been self-evident, science would never have busied itself to
discover them, and the mind of man would have been comparatively unemployed.
And looking at the Scriptures as intended to exercise the mental, as
well as to guide the moral, powers, we shall scarcely err in directing children's attention, cautiously and reverently, to all which may throw light on
what may be called the temporal aspect of the Bible; the connection of
sacred history with profane; the peculiarities of ancient customs, and the
difficulties of language. Young people will take a vivid interest in such
subjects; and when we have awakened thought in this way, it will not be
difficult in a few words, simply and earnestly, as occasion may suggest, to
bring forward the deeper and more hidden things of the Word of God.
We shall, probably, find this plan more successful than that of making
Scripture reading strictly devotional; for on the subject of personal. relig.
ion, children are apt to be very sensitive; their feelings shrink from human
touch, though they will expand freely undet the Eye of Heaven.
363 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
It is much to be questioned whether the custom, common
in our national schools, of collecting together in Church little
children of five or six years of age, and making them stand,
and kneel, and sit for two hours together, scarcely speaking or
moving, is really conducive to reverence. Possibly it might
be better if they were spared the ordeal of the sermon, which,
undoubtedly, they cannot profit by. But there are great difficulties in the way of such an arrangement, and all that is urged now is for the consideration of those who are at liberty to
carry out their own ideas. To them it may be said that
Church services will, probably, be more highly estimated if
they are regarded as a boon, than if they are insisted upon as
a duty.
A baptism is, perhaps, the best service to which a child of
three or four years old can first be taken; there is so much interest in it; and the impression left upon the mind is likely to
be lasting and very salutary. After this, a short afternoon
service-especially if there should be singing, and no sermon
-may be tried; then, as the child learns to repeat the Lord's
Prayer, a morning service may be chosen, care being taken
that the Prayer is repeated whenever it occurs, so that the
child may feel that it can bear a part in what is going on.
But it would seem better-not only in very early childhood,
but for some time afterwards-to hold back certain portions
of the Church services. For instance, to go to Church twice
in the day, when looked upon as the privilege of elder persons,
will be a coveted permission instead of an irksome burden.
A week-day service will be a treat, if it marks special fete
days. If we thus begin gradually teaching our little ones to
associate the idea of God's House with rewards and enjoyments, the feeling of liking for it will increase insensibly, and
we shall very soon find, if we are only consistent and reverent
ourselves, that our children are learning to consider it a hardship when they are debarred from it. 
And when this feeling has once been awakened, we may
rest satisfied at least for a time. A taste for going to Church
364 
DEFINITE RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION.
does not, indeed, necessarily imply the existence of religious
principle in the heart, but it prepares the way for it. In these
days, it must be owned young people often show great interest
in Church services, take a prominent part in choral music, and
are critical, and even learned, as to ritual observances, and yet
are not one whit the less conceited, presumptuous, self-willed,
and uncharitable. But the fault lies not in the Church, but
the home.  If these same young people had been brought up
reverently, they would handle sacred things reverently. If
they had been taught to watch their own hearts, they would
be on their guard against the temptations to which now they
yield.  No doubt it is worse to be vain and worldly at a daily
service than in a ball-room; but it does not, therefore, follow
that a ball is better for the mind than a religious service.
Outward forms, ceremonies, sacred music, are nothing in
themselves; they may be turned to great evil, all the more
because they profess to be, and indeed are, the instruments of
great good; but we may easily test both ourselves and our
children in all these matters. If we do not like to go to Church
unless we can worship in a beautiful buiiding, and listen to exquisite music, and hear an eloquent sermon, then we have no
real liking for religious services at all. What we do like is
merely the excitement-that very self-same kind of excitement
which meets us at the opera, and which is less dangerous because it is less self-deceiving. But if, on the contrary, we can
join heartily in the prayers of the Church, and find rest in
them under any circumstances, then the fact that our interest,
or our feelings, arc excited, or that our taste is gratified by the
adjuncts of music and architecture, is nothing to be alarmed
at; but rather an indulgence which God, we may believe, has
granted to us here, as a foretaste of the pleasures which we are
to enjoy hereafter.
Reverence for the Lord's Day is another very important
religious lesson to be early inculcated. The term " the Lord's
Day" is used advisedly, because it seems to embody the principle by which the occupations of the day should be regulated.
3 6,5 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
Sunday is a heathen, the Sabbath a Jewish term. We are
neither heathens, nor Jews, but Christians; and we desire to
keep sacred the first day of the week in a Christian spirit.
The first thing to be remembered, then, is that it is the Lord's
Day,-a day dedicated in an especial manner to the service of
our Redeemer. so that it permits no employment to be undertaken which has not, directly or indirectly, reference to Him.
And the second is, that it is a day of joy-a festival.  Bearig these two points in mind, we shall find little difficulty
in bringing up our children to regard and make use of it
rightly.
Now, very little children cannot be made to employ the
whole of the Sunday in a definitely religious manner, because
they are only learning, by very slow degrees, to comprehend
the meaning of religion.  But they can be taught, from their
earliest infancy, to look upon it as a festival, a pleasant day,
one on which they are to enjoy some special treat,-very trifling, perhaps,-merely being allowed to be more with their
parents, to join them at dessert, to take a little walk, to gather
flowers and make up nosegays,-it matters not what the pleasure is, so long as it is something, quiet and domestic, and reserved for Sunday. The first association with Sunday will
then be that of enjoyment.
With this sense of enjoyment the sense of sacredness must
undoubtedly be joined; but, still, the effort should be to make
sacredness pleasant. Children must have something to occupy
them.  If we take away their dolls and toys, and give them
nothing in return, they will be just as weary, restless, and
irritable, as grown-up people who have nothing to do. Neither
will they safely bear the excitement of play for a whole day on
Sunday, any more than they will on any other day. To begin
the day with a very little lesson, perhaps only a verse of a
hymn, will be a tonic for all the hours that are to follow; and
then there may be the pleasure of something especially-put
aside for Sunday,-a book of sacred prints, a Noah's ark,
which, quaint though it is, has from long association acquired
366 
DEFINITE RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION.
a quasi sacredness,-anything which deepens the idea that
Sunday is a peculiar day,-very happy,-but on which it is
not right to do precisely the same things that we do on other
days. As children grow older and are taken to Church, they
have necessarily less unoccupied time. They will be expected
to learn Collects and Psalms, and repeat their Catechism, and
have it explained; and this will employ a large portion of their
leisure.  Then there may be Sunday story books, and music,
and at a later period some time may be spent in teaching others. All these employments will differ in different families.
Some may have more leisure, some less; but the result will
be the same in all, if the two great principles of sacredness
and pleasantness are kept in view. It will not make children
careless if they know that punishments are, as a rule, never
carried on over Sunday; and if they are more readily excused
any little forgetfulness on that day than on any other. The
very fact of knowing that it is a day of jubilee will touch their
sense of honour; and they will try to do well on Sunday from
the highest of all principles-reverent love, which does not fear
punishment, or look for reward.
And there may and ought to be definite religious instruction on the Sunday, but then it should be given orally, more
in the form of conversation than as a lesson. Little children
will listen with delight to stories told them out of the Bible.
Those who are older will take great interest in explanations of
the Catechism, if they are given with illustrations, and brought
home to their own experience; and older girls will really enjoy discussing subjects connected with Church history and
Church government, and will enter into really deep moral
questions, if only the mother or the governess who is instructing them, will throw her own heart into the subjects brought
forward, and show that she is studying for herself as well as
for them.
Sunday lessons should never, strictly speaking, be lessons,
because the principle of the day is freedom and. enjoyment;
freedom in God's presence, enjoyment in the consciousness
361 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
that we are devoting our attention to things which, in a special
manner, relate to Him. If young people are idle and careless
when such subjects are brought before them, they may be
quietly sent away, because they are disturbing others; but
punishment will better be left for another occasion. That
which is a pleasure to their companions is not so to them,
therefore it will not be forced upon them; and neglect will, in
most cases, prove more efficacious than reproach.
And it is through the means of this general conversation
upon the externals of religion, that we shall at length succeed
in reaching that which constitutes its reality. It is so in
worldly matters. When two strangers are brought together,
they do not begin by talking of their private interests, their
feelings and affections. They keep upon the surface. They
test and try each other, as it were, and then, if they find that
they have any mutual subject of interest, they discuss it more
intimately, with a certain increasing sense of union and cordiality; and so, at length, they arrive at a knowledge of each
other's tastes-perhaps of difficulties, sorrows, and trials.
But such unreserve is a result reached only through time and
caution. If either of them had plunged at once into the secrets of his own life, and given an account of his feelings, the
probability is that he would have repelled his friend instead of
attracting him.
But all this is too often forgotten in religion. People suppose that they can awaken children's religious feelings by
preaching to them, quoting texts, urging the necessity of
spirituality. There is but one way which, through God's
grace, will ever naturally and almost necessarily make our
children religious, and that is, acting religion before them
earnestly, consistently, and, for the most part, with but few
words. The Spirit of God, working in the child's heart, makes
itself heard in silence, for its voice is " still and small;" and
though the religious feeling, when roused, will at certain times,
and under certain circumstances, find an utterance, we cannot
compel it to make itself known by speaking to it. And when
368 
DEFINITE RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION.
these moments of unreserve do arise, we shall be wise in still
retaining our caution.
The children need loving advice, and our object must be,
therefore, to draw them on to tell their difficulties-not, be it
remembered, their feelings; or, at least, these are better only
alluded to. We do not want to extract confessions of deep
sinfulness, or of longing for increased spirituality. These are
for the Ear of God, and when we find the young heart bur dened by such convictions of guilt and helplessness, which con stitute the essence of inward religion, we shall probably do
well to use but very few words, pointing to the mercy of the
Atonement, and the promised aid of the Holy Spirit, and then
leave the hidden mind to be influenced and moulded by Him
who made it.
But one most frequent confession of all children —may it
not be said of all persons?-is, that they cannot feel;-that
they can see the claims of religion, that they can even strive
to attend to them, but that their service is mechanical. Enthusiastic representations of God's Love, fervent appeals to the
sense of gratitude, will not, under such circumstances, awaken
the heart from its state of conscious deadness. But there is a
thought, which, when made practical, will seldom fail to touch
it. Any action, be it ever so trivial, which is done deliberately
wth a view to please God, does please Him.   Let the next
thing that presents itself in the way of duty-no matter whatit may be only writing a note, be performed with the thought
that God is looking on, seeing why and how it is done, and approving it, because it is an effort made definitely for Him, an
attempt to do His work.
That must be a very cold heart-much colder than a child's
heart generally is-which can be insensible to the consciousness of that approval-which does not thrill at the idea of the
Redeemer's loving smile. Deepen, enlarge, and perpetuate the
thought, and we arrive at the principle of Faith, " the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen;" 1
l Heb. xi. 1.
369
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
and then will come permanent feeling, rising by degrees, as
the religious principle intensifies, from the love of a child to its
parents, to the love of the redeemed sinner for Him who died
for him. A life thus based upon faith, cultivated by the constant recognition of God's presence, rests upon a foundation
which nothing can disturb. For with true faith there will ever
be joined that full dependence upon God's aid, that simple reliance upon the Gift of His Holy Spirit, which, after all, is the
one absolute essential for the formation and growth of the
religious spirit.
We have spoken of earthly means, earthly instruments,
words, and deeds; because God has pledged Himself to work
for us only if we work for ourselves.  "Work out your own
salvation with fear and trembling. For it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of His good pleasure." 1 We
must educate children wisely if we hope to reap thle fruits of
wisdom, but the greatest unwisdom of all is dependence on our
own strength.
This is a truth which must especially be insisted upon
when writing upon education, because the very necessity of
dwelling upon human means compels us at times to speak as
if human wisdom was everything.
Effort without prayer is simply useless. We have one
duty, above all others, connected with the religious education
of children; and that is, to put them into God's hands, and to
teach them that "' His strength is made perfect in their weakness." It is with us all, as many may have felt when a strong
hand has been placed behind them to help them up a steep ascent. If the aid is really to be used, they must lean upon it,
even whilst they move forwards. There must be the sense of
powerlessness accompanying the energy of exertion. Attempt
to move without leaning, and the natural weakness is felt painfully; for the aid which might have been so efficacious is of no
avail to those who cannot bring themselves to rest upon it.
1 Phil. ii. 12, 13.
370 
CHAPTER XXVII.
DEFINITE RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION-(continued).
HAVING given the caution contained in the last chapter, a
few more remarks may be made upon the right religious teach
ing which is needed for a child's education. The heart can, as
it has been acknowledged, only be touched by the Spirit of God,
and all the instruction we may give will by itself utterly fail of
attaining the end we have in view. Yet it is nevertheless most
necessary, and, without it, fervent devotion, and even sincerity
of heart, may ultimately lead only to fatal errors.
God gives the spirit of devotion; but in a certain sense it
may be said that it is left to man to determine into what kind
of mould that spirit shall be poured. Religious feeling, when
strongly excited, adapts itself to the form through the medium
of which it has been awakened. The man converted by a Baptist becomes a Baptist, or by a Quaker becomes a Quaker.
The emotional impulse is so much stronger than the intellectual, that it is next to impossible for any person who is, for the
first time, thoroughly roused to a perception of his immortal
interests by one peculiar exhibition of divine truth, to sit down
calmly and examine whether this is the most true and wellgrounded statement of it which he can hold. His feelings and
prejudices are all enlisted in its favour, and he seems to have
no alternative but that of accepting the inward witness, which
he thenceforward is led to assert to be the only and true wit- 
ness.
And though sudden conversions are the exceptions rather
than the rule in religious experience, yet conversion of some 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
kind every one who has attained to the conviction that religion
is the one, sole, infinitely important object of man's interest
upon earth, must have undergone; because this conviction
does not belong to the ignorance of a fallen nature. We
may have awakened by degrees-we may not be aware of
the precise moment at which our eyes were first opened; but
awakened we are; and because of this awakening we feel ourselves compelled to act; and action must always be carried on
according to some external law, either chosen for ourselves, or
presented for our acceptance by others. And therefore, before
the devotional spirit is stirred in the mind of a child, before we
can even expect to see its faintest movement, we must prepare
for it by forming the mould into which we desire it should be
cast.
Parents and teachers would do well to consider this. We
marvel at the eccentricities of the young in the present day.
We learn almost to dread the enthusiasm of devotional feeling.
We see that it leads to differences of opinion and of action;
that it breaks up the unity of families, and exhibits itself in
peculiarities which are offensive to our sober judgment. We
are almost inclined to think that the old ways of our forefathers were the best; that if the young in those bygone ages were
not so earnest as they are now, yet at least they were not so
troublesome.
But who is to blame? We let our children grow up in ignorance. We do not teach them (probably because we do not
know ourselves) what are the grounds of their faith; why
they believe the Bible; why they belong to one Church rather
than another. -We think that they will learn these things intuitively.  We have a vague idea that the knowledge of them is,
in some way, imbibed with the repetition of the Collects, and
Psalms, and Catechism. We are perhaps members of the
English Church ourselves; our ancestors were so, and we
have followed them, and our children, no doubt, will follow
us.  Or, it may be, we take delight in Church services, and
the children like to help us in Church decoration.  They under
372 
DEFINITE RELIGIOUS INSTERCTION.
stand all about Saints' Days and Festivals; perhaps even they
may be learned in Black Letter Saints, and chant the Gregorian tones wonderfully!  "Of course," we say to ourselves,
" these things will attach them to the Church."
Now, all this is a great folly. Collects and Psalms teach
us how to pray, but they do not tell us why we should pray.
The Catechism instructs us what we are to believe, but it does
not give the grounds of belief; and Church festivals and music
are very attractive, but the existence of the Church does not
rest upon them. This reckoning upon a foundation where none
had been provided is by no means unusual in other cases.
There is a peculiar kind of mud, common in some parts of
England, and known by the name of " blue slipper," which,
when it hardens, is supposed to be as substantial as solid rock.
And in consequence of this supposition houses are built upon
it, roads rest on it, and, in fact, it is made the foundation of
every kind of superstructure, few suspecting that it is not perfectly safe. But the rain moistens it; springs from the hills
work themselves into it; it becomes mud again; and, when
completely saturated, it begins to slide-at first slowly, with a
scarcely perceptible motion-but still it moves, and by its
movement the buildings erected upon it totter; and then the
mud slips faster, and the buildings totter more alarmingly;
until at length, by an accelarated impulse, the blue slipper not
only slides, but rushes downwards, and the superstructure becomes a mass of ruins.
There are characters which, in like manner, rest upon
moral blue slipper; there are families which are more or
less built upon it; more than all, there is a religious faith
-alas! is it not the faith of thousands in England at this moment?-which has no better foundation.
Devotional reverence for the Bible or the Church, merely
as a matter of feeling, will never save any one from the snares
of Rationalism, or the enticements of the varied forms of error.
That which we believe in and reverence to-day, we may-very
probably-such is the infirmity of human nature-disregard
373 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
to-morrow. What we have to learn ourselves, and to teach our
children, is to give a reason for the faith that is in us; to
know why we hold the Bible to be true; why we belong to tihe
Church of which we profess ourselves to be members; and
these reasons are to be found first in facts, chiefly historical,
and external to our consciousness. But in order to explain
this witness to young people, we must understand it ourselves;
we must read, and think, and not only feel.  Now, reading
and thinking are difficult to many persons, whilst feeling is
easy. To say, I believe the Bible to be true, because it speaks
to my heart, is a ready and all-sufficient argument for the individual who is conscious of the influence which the Bible exerts;
but it is not an argument which will stand against the scoff of
the unbeliever. Our Blessed Lord, when addressing the Jews,
rested the claims of His mission upon external evidence. He
appealed to His works, His miracles; and so also the truth of
the Bible, and the authority of the Church to which we belong
-let it be what Church it may-must be open to proof, drawn
from external testimony, of a like kind with that which, in
other cases, is constantly appealed to as the witness to fact.
The amount of evidence which we are at liberty to demand
is another and a most important consideration; and one which
ought specially to be brought before the minds of the young.
We may be beyond the reach of sceptical temptations ourselves (though who in these days can venture to make such an
assertion?), but they are not. They will, in all probability,
soon be induced to plunge into those mines of darkness, miscalled of wisdom, which are filled with the miasma of philosophic doubt. The torch of human reason, which they bear with
them as their guide, may, at any moment, enkindle the vapour,
and the flames which light up the obscurity will then but the
more rapidly hurry them to their destruction. We cannot hinder them from undertaking the venture, but we can provide
them with a safety-lamp.  We may so guard the torch that it
shall never become an incendiary match; whilst we show them
how to carry it, so that it may be a guide in the gloom; point
34 
DEFINITE RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION.
ing out where they may venture to go, and what they may accept as reality, and what reject as imagination. In other and
unmetaphorical words, we may prepare their minds with the
arguments of sound thinkers and cautious theologians; and
then when we send them forth into the world, instead of listening to every idle phantasy, they will calmly test the difficulties
brought before them, and discover their fallacy, though they
may not be always able to refute them.
An involuntary sigh arises as this thought is suggested.
Who will take the trouble to read and think? Who will
go back to the fountain head? Who will study Butler, and
Hooker, and Bull, and Nicholson, and Sanderson, mastering
intricate arguments, and translating obsolete expressions? Students of theology may, because they are obliged to do it-but
women? It is an absurdity to expect it of them. They will
read reviews, short essays; they will catch up what is said in
conversation, and believe it till they hear something which
sounds to them more plausible;-but study for themselves!
how is it possible? They cannot get at these books, and if
they could, they would not have the time to read them. As
children in the schoolroom they were too young to understand
them, and, indeed, they never heard their names.  As young
girls they were busy with music, drawing, history, and the
; ologies," French accent and the German declensions. As
young women they have balls and picnics, dinner and croquet
parties; as married women they have the cares of a household, the claims of society, and the education of their children
for this world;-for the same round of lessons and accomplishments, amusements and cares, through which they have
themselves passed!  How, in the midst of such pressing present pursuits, can leisure be found for laying the foundation of
faith?
And yet the task would not prove so difficult if we would
only attempt it.  We  are not called upon to make our children read all these books, or even to read them ourselves.
One or two, carefully studied and thought over, would furnish
375 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
us with invaluable assistance in conversing with young people,
and understanding the perplexities which, we may be morally
certain, will, sooner or later, arise in their minds. Butler's
Analogy, and-if we wish for condensed information in a modern form-Wordsworth's " Theophilus Anglicanus," would,
alone, do more to clear our own minds, and enable us to explain the grounds of our belief, than volumes of controversial
pamphlets and newspaper essays. It is the art of reasoning,
the power of perceiving fallacies, which young people want;
and if we can give them this, with a certain amount of definite historical knowledge, they will hold what they do hold so
firmly that we need have very little fear for them. And by
degrees, as their intellects strengthen, and their interest in
these subjects deepens, we may lead them to study such books
for themselves.  They will find it rather an effort, but if they
have been early accustomed to thought they will not shrink
from it. There is a satisfactory sense of security afforded by
sound reasoning and deep learning, which is appreciated even
by those who cannot thoroughly master the arguments brought
forward. Definiteness and authority have a vast power in this
uncertain world. In them lies the attraction which leads hundreds to the Church of Rome; and the young, especially, cannot rest without their support. If they are not provided for
them, they will seek for them; and in seeking in a wrong
direction, possibly in a wrong spirit, in dependence upon their
own understanding, and their own judgment, they must, almost necessarily, fall into error. But this support can only
be given by forming, early, a mould for the religious spirit,
and taking care that it shall be composed of historical facts,
and sound, yet humble reasoning; united with the principles
of reverence, obedience, and a sincere love of truth. If this
mould is provided, then, when, through God's mercy, the
feeling of religion shall spring up into consciousness-as assuredly under the light of a consistent example it will-'we
shall find that it will, naturally, and without effort, develop
itself in the form prepared for it, and in that form will deepen
36 
DEFINITE RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION.
and intensify;-silently, without doubt or controversy; and,
above all, without any of that bitterness which makes a self chosen creed, and an adopted Church, too often synonymous
with uncharitableness and narrowness.
And this must be the system of our religious education.
For it is a system, inasmuch as it deals with definite aims,
and works with definite instruments. Members of the English
Church will desire to see their children grow up in that Church.
It is to them that the advice, proffered by one who is blest in
belonging to the same Communion, must necessarily be addressed. But the principle put forward is universal. In order
to be firm in the faith ourselves, and to bring up our children
in a like stability of religious belief, we must understand the
ground upon which we stand; and determine the limits within
which human reason may safely be trusted, and an independent judgment be exercised.
It is more important than any knowledge connected with
this world. We may be content to leave our children ignorant
of geology, and botany, and chemistry; we may even give up
the cherished hope of hearing them speak French with a Parisian accent, and discuss the merits of Goethe in his own tongue;
but if we leave them ignorant and uncertain as regards the
foundation of their religious belief, there may come a day,possibly it may not be far distant,-when the cry of the human
soul as it stands upon the brink of Eternity, and demands why
it is to believe what it has heard concerning that Eternity, will
startle us with an appeal which will close our ears to the claims
of all other knowledge.
If it should ever be our lot to hear such a cry, and to feel
that it is too late to attempt to answer it, we shall then learn
to estimate the value of the inquiry. If we should ever know
what it is to watch a young mind,-strong in its natural powers, eager in its self-confidence, yet subject to the influence of
a weakened and agonized body,-looking forth from the bed
of death, longing for certainty, but owning no authority except
its own reason, no guide except its own feeling, we shall then
377 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
own how important,-how infinitely important,-it is, to clear
away the mists fromn the judgment, before that hour of trial shall
arrive;-before the evening shadows close around, and the night
cometh in which man cannot think, even as he cannot work.
Still more fully, perhaps, shall we comprehend it, if it has
been.our privilege to minister to the young and the dying who
have never known doubt, because they have always been
taught to recognize the true ground of certainty.
We may have been called upon to mark the sudden decay
of a young and beautiful life;-the rapid downward steps of
disease, the rush that it makes towards Death; and we may
have trembled in anticipation of the possible suggestions and
uncertainties as to Divine truth, which in some hour of weakness may shake the faith that would fain rest wholly on its
Saviour. But we have no cause to fear. The heart trusts
then, because it has always trusted. It believes, because it
knows that it has ground for belief. Its habit has been that of
quiet conviction; the grasp of certain truths to which it may
cling, even were the universe crumbling around it; and tihe
shock of Death cannot now disturb it. Though the bodily
frame may be daily weakened, and the affections may at times
be troubled, and the brain for a moment confused; the inward
abiding stay remains still untouched. And at the last, when
Death is very near, perhaps God will permit us to witness its
full power, in a sudden development of spiritual life,-of love,
and faith, and hope,-which would seem the foretaste of the
great change that shall convert the earthly into the Heavenly,
and clothe the mortal with Immortality.
Or again, there may be no sudden change,-only the gradual fading away, the dying out of the old life, and the gradual
dawning of the new.  There may be little pain, no fear,-but
rather, calm hope gradually brightening into joy; obedience,
which uses thankfully the aids offered it, because it has always
been taught to value them as means of grace and blessing an
untroubled imagination, which pictures death as " a sleep from
which it shall wake up dazzled;" and a faith which rests upon
378 
DEFINITE RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION.
the Redeemer, because the young heart, with all its consciousness of sinfulness, has no thought that it can go to any but
Him, and longs that "He, rather than the angels, should come
to bear the soul away, because with Him it would feel more
safe."
Very beautiful, unutterably comforting, is such a deathbed!
-even though there may be bodily suffering and weariness before the spirit is permitted to return to its God. The Lord has
been "the shepherd," feeding the soul with His truth, " so
that it should not want."  Ie has made the awakening intellect to lie down in "green pastures," even the rest of a firm
conviction; and now He calls the young spirit to Himself, that
He may "lead it beside the still waters "-the rivers that gladden the Paradise of His Redeemed.
These are no fictions. They are not ideal pictures. They
are facts, truths, Eternal Realities. The well-grounded faith
of life is the preparation for the calm trust in Death. There is
an abiding objective truth; and apart from it, truth which is
subjective can never expect to stand against the temptations of
a scoffing world. God has united them, and we may not dare
to separate them.
And the teaching of this objective truth is put in our
power; whilst the implanting and growth of subjective truth
is dependent upon the working of God's Spirit. We can instruct children in the evidence upon which faith in their Redeemer is built; but we cannot make them recognize its Divine
origin, from the effects which it produces in themselves, until,
through God's grace, the principle of faith is awakened in their
hearts.
Yet it is necessary to guard these statements from misapprehension. It is not for one moment meant that an acquaintance with the grounds of faith constitutes saving faith, or that
salvation depends upon such knowledge. Thousands, we may
fully believe, will hereafter enter Heaven who have never even
known what is meant by the grounds of faith; thousands who
have loved their Saviour, and worshipped in humility, accord
39 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
ing to the fashion of their forefathers, without being able to
give any answer to the question,-why they believe the Bible,
and why they submit themselves to the Church.
But it is equally true that such inquiries are rife in these
days; that they will, in all probability, meet our children in
their after life; and that the fact of being unable to answer
them may involve danger to the faith by which they are
to be saved.
And it is also true, that these subjects, when taken up
heartily and thoroughly understood, give a feeling of stability
to the whole system of religion which acts upon the moral
character; sobers and strengthens it in life; and is, through
God's mercy, the means of guarding it against the temptations
of Satan in the hour of death.
And for that higher, more spiritual teaching, for which we
so earnestly long, we must look to the working of God's Spirit,
and His blessing upon our fervent prayers and our consistent
example. Young people feel earnestness and sincerity more
quickly than they feel any other qualities; and they will respond to them involuntarily and unconsciously. People talk as
if the minds of children were naturally antagonistic to religion.
It is not so. None who have been conversant with the education of children, and have put their hearts into the teaching
they have given, will ever make such a statement. If children
dislike religion, it is because they are teased with it. It is
thrust upon them at unseasonable moments, or presented under
a form which strikes them as affected or unreal, or awakens
their sense of the ludicrous.
God made the child's heart for Himself, and He will win
it, if we will not mar His work by our impatient folly.
What is really wonderful to those who watch the development of a young mind under definite, consistent, religious
teaching and example, is not how great a dislike exists to
religion, but how readily the heart is awakened to it,-how instinctive the longing for it is,-how soon it acts as a powerful principle. The interest which a child takes in conversation
380 
DEFINTE RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION.
upon serious subjects-upon matters affecting the conscience
and practice, or even what may seem abstruse doctrines-is
the deepest reproach to the so-called intellectual man of the
world. He is spending his time in searching for pebbles,
whilst the littte one whom he despises is gathering diamonds.
It is the young in whose minds
those truths do rest,
Which we are toiling all our lives to find,
In darkness lost-the darkness of the grave." 1
The one thing which we have to guard against is the permitting shadows of religion to be mistaken for religion itself.
Feeling is very apt to deceive young people upon this point,
and there is a time when they are especially exposed to the
temptation-the time of their Confirmation and first Communion. A child brought up carefully and religiously in the English Church is taught, and very rightly, to look forward to this
period as a most important one; as giving a fresh starting
point; and when it arrives, there is a good deal of excitement
mixed up with the solemn duties of preparation. Peculiar
earnestness of feeling is likely to be aroused both in those who
instruct and those who are taught, and the result is the growth
of religious feeling. God forbid that any disparaging words
should be uttered of such influences-much more that the benefits of Christ's ordinances, and the vast efficacy of His sacramental grace, should be for an instant doubted. But we shall
be grievously disappointed if we suppose that any amount of
feeling, awakened under peculiar circumstances, is a sure indication that the heart has been touched abidingly. In conversing with young people at such times, it is necessary to prepare
them for the reaction which will almost inevitably follow the
luxury of devotional excitement. Steady, even hard reading,
and stern, practical tests of principle, require to be enforced at
these times more than at any other; and if we see that the
character does not stand this test, that there is a shrinking
I Wordsworth.
381 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
from little hardships and self-denial, though there may be very
real compunction for past offences, very true faith, and earnest
resolution, we may be perfectly sure that disappointment is in
store for us. The mind has not yet grasped the fact that the
full meaning of self-dedication is self-crucifixion.   The heart
has not yet given a whole will to God, and the course of the
Christian life will probably be, even for years, fluctuating,
feeble, uncertain.
We must be very patient, very gentle, with such weakness.
It will never do to interfere too much. We shall only give an
unreal stimulus by constant reminders, warnings, expostulations. The young soon learn to lean upon false supports. After
a grave conversation the heart is softened, and new resolutions
are made, and feeling is, as before, unconsciously mistaken for
duty. We are all more or less liable to this mistake. Grownup people are in the habit of bringing themselves up before the
tribunal of their own hearts, confessing and sorrowing, and
giving themselves absolution upon the strength of their penitence; and then going away and offending again; and when
this confession is made by a young person to a tender and sympathizing human friend, the feeling of sorrow is assisted and
encouraged, and the sense of the imaginary absolution is intensified; and so at length the mind learns to rest upon these
seasons of better feeling, and to make them, as it were, a balance against the faults committed through weakness at other
times.
In such cases, w-hat is needed is that the character should
be allowed to develop by itself; that the young heart should
be left, if it must be so., to err, and to suffer from the error for
a time, so that it may fully realize its own instability; and
then suddenly be roused by an expostulation which will show
plainly how far from the right path it has wandered.
So, again, fashions in religion are most delusive. Young
people think themselves religious because they like daily services, accompanied with beautiful music; or because they listen with pleasure to a stirring sermon, or take an interest in
382 
DEFINITE RELIGIOIUS INSTRUCTION.
Church matters, and are fond of the village school-children.
They do so just as their elders suppose that to enter eagerly
into controversy implies a liking for religion; and that to
criticize every service which does not come up to their own
standard implies reverence.   It does not do to be always
preaching either to old or young upon these subjects, still less
to cry them down, for they are no doubt important, and may
be made real tests of right feeling; but it is very needful to
show how entirely distinct and apart religion itself is from
these adventitious circumstances. And more especially is it
essential to watch against that form of feminine romance
which Sir James Stephen so happily characterizes as " hierop athy," and which, if allowed to get the upper hand, will con vert the solemnities of religion into the incentives to vanity and
self-deceit.
And perfect simplicity and earnestness are above all things
needful, as the basis of true charity. "Love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance," 1
these are the things against which "there is no law."  They
may be found amongst all those who profess and call themselves Christians, and where they exist we are bound to recognize and honour them. Once lay firmly this broad foundation,
and then we may, without danger, build upon it the edifice
which we believe ourselves to be truth. For to admit that
others think themselves to be right, and to honour them for
sincerely acting upon their convictions, does not in the least
imply that we do not consider them wrong, or that we are
willing to yield one iota of the truth which we ourselves hold.
We may be as steadfast as we will in supporting the purity of
the faith,-and the more  steadfast the more  acceptable in
God's  sight,-only, we  may not venture to speak harshly
of those who differ from us. We condemn their opinions,
but themselves we leave to the judgment of our common
Master.
This is the most difficult lesson of all to teach young
' Galatians v. 22, 23.
383
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
people. They cannot see the distinction between conscientious and wilful error, so they are intolerant; and when they
do see it, they are in danger of falling into the opposite mistake, and forgetting that we are all answerable for the right
regulation of conscience, and therefore if we fail to use all the
means in our power for enlightening it, we are guilty of a
moral offence, though conscience itself may never raise its
voice to warn us of it. Considerations like these are too abstruse for the young. They will never, or very rarely, work
them out for themselves. Their warm feelings make them
zealous, their ignorance makes them narrow-minded. If they
have any religion at all, it is almost always sure to take a sectarian form, meaning by sectarianism that circumscribed view
of Christianity which cannot separate truth from the error with
which it is mingled, or recognize it under any form but that
in which it has been presented to itself. The dogmatic liberality which makes a creed of scepticism, and would scornfully
persecute all who decline to accept it, belongs to a more advanced period of life.
But there is no way of enforcing this charitable judgment,
combined with the strict maintenance of truth,-there is no
way, indeed, of enforcing any Christian practice or virtue,except by exhibiting it in ourselves. Education is example.
It is so in religion even more than in anything else, for religious influence is the action of heart upon heart.  It is, indeed,
but another word for God's grace. That sacred motive power
which urges us forward will, sooner or later, through a blessing upon our instrumentality, urge forward others. All that
we have to do is to put no obstacles in the way.
We wonder that our children are not religious, but are we
so ourselves? Or if our hearts are really given to God, are
we consistent in our practice? Have we always been so?
May not the coldness we now deplore in these young creatures,
in whom our affections are centred, be the working out of some
of our own errors in former days?  Even if the latter should
be the case, there is no cause for despondency. God is pleased
384 
DEFINITE RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION.
to work in His Providence according to natural laws. As we
sow, so shall we reap; and we are gathering now the fruits
of our former folly. But there is no moment in this life in
which we may not sow the seed of salvation with one hand,
even whilst we are reaping the results of the seed of corruption
with the other.
What has been done or left undone is, indeed, beyond recall; but the prayers, the love, the patience, the consistent example of holiness, which are to-day in our power, may be committed to God's keeping, in the full confidence that even if not
permitted to gather their reward on earth, in the present conversion of the children we love, it will be ours in the great Tomorrow of Eternity, when we shall be permitted to recognize
the fulfilment of that enduring promise, " Cast thy bread upon
the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days."
17
385
I 
CHAPTER XXVIII.
SCHOOLS AND PRIVATE PUPILS.
AND now, alas!-may it not be said?-how unsatisfactory
is all this!  So many words used, but so little help given!
Principles! the world is weary of principles.  What it
wants is practice; rules, illustrations, definite landmarks. We
all know what right principles are. The necessity of speaking
truth and being obedient, is a necessity which dates from
the Creation. The difficulties connected with intellectual instruction are the real stumbling-blocks in the way of good
education. Who in these days cares for the fact that a little
girl has never been known to disobey, or to tell a lie, when she
is so dull that she cannot repeat the dates of the French kings,
or state when Newfoundland was discovered?
And besides, the advice which has been given has been
addressed to mothers; and the young girls of the present age
are placed under the care of governesses, at home, or at school,
as the case may be. Why is not some help given to these unfortunate foster-parents, who, without any of the happiness,
have all the labour, and a great share of the anxiety, of
mothers?
This latter complaint is natural, and in one sense just. A
great portion of what has previously been said has been uttered
under a supposition, which experience proves to be in England
untrue, namely, that daughters  are brought  up by their
mothers. But the advantage of principles, as opposed to systems and rules, is, that they are suited for all ages, seasons, 
SCHOOLS AND PRIVATE PUPILS.
and circumstances. They may be carried out by the governess
as well as by the parent; and as we have not yet arrived at
the acknowledgment that mothers can lawfully delegate their
whole responsibility to others, so we are compelled to address
them as if they were in all cases willing to undertake it.
Or, it may also be said, education is distinct from instruc tion.  The former-the training of the heart-belongs to the
parent; the latter-the training of the intellect-to the governess. A book which treats upon education must, therefore,
necessarily be written for mothers. But there is a fallacy in
this assertion.
It is quite true that education and instruction are distinct,
the one from the other. Education, is carried on by moral influence, exercised in the various modes which are furnished by
the events of life. Instruction, indefinite information or teaching, given upon particular subjects.  We do not always know
when we are educating, but we cannot be doubtful as to when
we are instructing. But when we say that education and instruction are so distinct, as to be capable of entire separation,
we fall into very serious error. We may, indeed, educate,
without attempting to instruct; but it is impossible to instruct,
without, at the same time, educating.
Every teacher, every master, admitted into a family, assists
in the education of the children. It is a consequence not to be
avoided. No lesson, however dry and commonplace, can be
given without the exertion of a moral influence. Much more
must this influence be exercised, when the lessons are given by
some one person daily; and when this same person must be
the constant companion, guide, and referee of the young mind
committed to her charge.
This is a very grave thought, especially when we consider
what, in so many cases, these teachers and governesses are;how young and inexperienced, even when they are most excellent in their efforts and intentions.
It might, however, be, in a degree, a help to themselves if
they would fully face the fact, and prepare themselves for it.
387 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
It would make their task much more arduous, but it would
also make it infinitely more noble.  They cannot be called
upon simply to impart so much knowledge of French and History, since they must, in the very act, impart principles of selfcommand, patience, sympathy, gentleness, or the reverse. For
these qualities are necessarily exhibited in the mode in which
instruction is carried on; and every exhibition of a moral
quality in ourselves, tends to impress it upon the mind with
which, at the moment, we are brought into connection. All
teachers-more especially those peculiarly termed governesses-have, therefore, very high influential positions in God's
world.
But, it is said, they are dependent. They are earning
their own bread, and are, in various ways, subject to human
caprice.
Very true. Acknowledge it. An unpleasant truth is always less disagreeable when we have grasped it. And when
it has been acknowledged, let it be held firmly, and let the
world be confronted with it. We need have no fear, the world
is a great coward. It will always run away from those who
look at it courageously.
' Yes, I am a governess; earning my own livelihood; dependent, in so far that I have certain duties to perform, for
which I am paid. But my work is not the less God's work,
because I receive payment from man. The Rector of a parish
is not the less Christ's Minister, because he receives tithes.
God appointed the circumstances of my lot. He ordained that
I should have no means of living, except by labour; and in
that very Providential arrangement of my life, He showed me
what I have to do for Him. It is a great work, and I thank
Him for it. EIly friends think I am lowered in social position,
and they are correct. According to the world's estimate, I
am lowered, and I am willing to be so. I should be admired if
I worked gratuitously. I should be thought a saint and a heroine. But work for God can only be undertakeri in the form
in which He sees fit to give it. He will not value me the less
388 
SCHOOLS AND PRIVATE PUPILS.
because I perform two tasks instead of one; because, whilst
working for His little ones, I also provide for my own main  tenance, and perhaps help a mother, or a sister who cannot
help herself. I accept, therefore, the world's commiseration,
with the amount of gratitude which is due to it. It is meant
kindly, but 1 do not need it. I take the materials of my life
as God has given them, and do with them the best I can for
His service. The prince upon his throne, the statesman in the
senate, the philosopher in his closet, can do no more. I am
conunt."
fThe world would smile were such a speech as this made to
it.  It would whisper of enthusiasm, romance-perhaps bring
forward an accusation of pride; and it would watch for a
while, suspiciously; and at last it would turn away in perplex ity-but with respect.
And when the world's respect has been won, we can well
afford to disregard its wondering smile! There is one pride,
and one pride only, which is justifiable, because it is consistent
with the deepest humility. To be God's special servant, His
instrument for any particular purpose, is the highest dignity to
which the human being can attain; and no one undertakes the
education of a child without being raised to it.
Only one condition is required. The task must be fulfilled
cheerfully, willingly;-not, indeed, always without a struggle,
because human nature soon becomes weary, and longs for rest;
and the heart is weak, and will at times sigh for the enjoyments
of freedom and luxury;-but, nevertheless, with an entire subjugation of these inferior desires, and with a thankful sense of
the infinite privilege of working in a definite manner for God.
And, now, what is the real state of the case as regards
governesses, whether in private families, or in schools? What
is the view which they themselves take of their own position,
and which, therefore, they assist to form in the minds of others? For it must be remembered, as a general rule, that the
world will place us on that level on which we place ourselves.
It will do so often very absurdly.  But the fact is true, and
389 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
those who watch the course of life cannot fail to remark it. If
governesses are looked down upon, it is because they look
down upon themselves; because they cannot, in the slightest
degree, grasp the greatness of their duties.
They deem themselves victims to misfortune, and regard
the world as their enemy. They think a great deal of social
position, and are always guarding their dignity.   So, they
meet the world upon its own ground, and are of course judged
by the world's judgment. Directly or indirectly, they are told
that the place they wish to take is not that to which they have
a right. They turn away offended, and show their annoyance
by moodiness and unhappiness. Of course their employment
becomes irksome to them; and-what is worse-the children
given to their charge are regarded as the instruments of their
suffering.  But for their pupils, the world would treat them
with respect; and the thought causes a fretting irritation,
which makes the presence of the pupils a trial, and the very
mention of them a source of annoyance.
Now, what is there noble in all this? What is there of the
spirit which works for God voluntarily, thankfully? Allowing
that it is natural, yet is it not petty and ungrateful? Can we
think that God will acknowledge as done for Him that work
which is only done because without it we must starve?  And
does not the world recognize the meanness of the spirit?  Do
not the children feel it? If the governess works only because
she is obliged to do so, and reckons the worth of her services
at so much per annum, will they not take her at her own estimation? will they not look upon her instruction merely as so
much teaching given in return for value received?
The question is one to be answered by all persons who undertake the duty of education as a profession.
According to the spirit in which we work, so will be the
value put upon that work. Labour for the world, and the
world will put its own price upon us-history so much, languages so much, accomplishments so much. An accurate
valuation to be made in gold-and in nothing more. Labour
390 
SCHOOLS AND PRIVATE PUPILS.
for God, and no matter what we receive-be it little or much,
according to the capabilities which God has given us for our
vocation-there is one talent the value of which is priceless;
the influence of a noble, disinterested, religious mind, which
accepts its place in the world with indifference because it has
a place in the vineyard of God. And we may be assured
that, let the world strive as it may to undervalue this tal ent, it will in the end be compelled to estimate it at its true
worth.
It is, indeed, vain to insist upon the necessity of right prin ciples of education-to explain and enforce them-so long as
the persons who are to carry them out are themselves devoid
of the very elementary principle which forms the foundation
of all lasting religious influences. Children are not educated
by the act of instruction, but by the spirit of instruction. If
we look upon them merely as so many instruments for gaining
money in an unpleasant way, we may talk to them like Angels,
and they will receive our lessons and repeat them, and then
turn away and do precisely contrary to them.
It is not, indeed, requisite that all persons who undertake
to be governesses should delight in the act of teaching, or rejoice in the anxiety inseparable from the charge of young
people. A clergyman does not necessarily like visiting the
poor, or superintending a Sunday School; but what he doesif he is really in earnest-is to put a noble spirit into his work;
to like it, not in itself, but because it is done for God.
And when once this spirit Wpssesses the heart, all worldly
considerations-even those which concern that most difficult
subject of pecuniary remuneration-will soon assume their
right proportion. It may be desirable to enter into this point
more particularly. The same Master who appoints the work
gives it to us also under certain conditions. In the case under
consideration it is to be work done for His glory, but also for
an earthly maintenance.  Prudence, forethought, a due selfestimation, are therefore as necessary as earnestness and industry.  If persons have pupils in their own house, they are
391 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
not at liberty to indulge in speculations, and experiments, and
lavishness. Supposing they had money at command and could
work-voluntarily, as it is called-such things might be allowable; but God has placed them under certain restraints, and
they must submit themselves to them. Every one understands
this. Children understand it. No child when sent away from
home for education expects to find the same luxuries which are
to be met with in her father's house; because, as society now
exists, the act of taking pupils is a confession of being, in a
certain sense, poor. But there are some things which children require, even if they do not expect them-liberality, refinement, propriety, and that amount of care for their physical
well-being which shall make them comfortable, and teach them
how to observe the niceties and decorums essential for their
after life. These things are just as much a part of good education as instruction in moral duties, and far more so than tho
teaching of languages and accomplishments. Are they cared
for as they ought to be by all who receive pupils into their own
houses?  If they are sot, what must be the result?
Whether the effect of crowding young girls together in one
bedroom, giving them no means of privacy, stinting them in
the time necessary for their toilette, summoning them to hasty
ill-appointed meals, and hiring inferior servants to wait upon
them-can be compensated for by any amount of first-rate
masters, or any quantity of "classes" for imbibing science
and history, may be proved by the tone and style usually
known as that of a school-girl. It is not the learning together
which makes girls school-girlish; it is the living together; the
being herded like animals in one fold;-the sense of sham and
pretence, the fact that the decencies of life are disregarded in
the bedroom, though there may be damask and ormolu in the
drawing-room. No child thinks the less of the governess who
says, " My dear, I cannot afford to give you such or such indulgences," but every child despises the effort to conceal esonomy by false appearances. And this disgust will develop
itself into secret contempt. The slightest taint of meanness
392 
SCHOOLS AND PRIVATE PUPILS.
or unreality will utterly destroy children's respect. They are
very severe judges, and they cannot make the allowances
which their elders can. They do not know the pressure of
poverty which lies behind the outward show of affluence.
They are aware that their parents give a certain sum for their
education, and they feel that for this sum they have a right
to expect certain comforts.  They can tell nothing of the out lay required before a school can be opened; or of the family
claims which carry away what might otherwise be profit.  If
they did, they might be more merciful to shabby economy;
or, in other words, economy which is ashamed to confess
itself what it is; but they would never respect it: it is not a
thing to be respected. Poverty may be honourable; truth
must always be so; but pretence is and ever must be despica ble.   And  unless a child respects her governess, she will
deceive her.   There lies the great evil of inferior schools.
Deceit is not taught, but it is imbibed: it exists in the atmos phere; and upon deceit will follow a train of unnumbered, un utterable evils.
School-girl tricks, a school-girl tone, are accepted by many
persons as belonging to a certain age, but as being sure to pass
away with that age. It is a great mistake. The school-girl
tone is low, untrue, irreverent: it is based upon the belief that
education is a mere matter of bargaining; and that as the governess desires to make the most for herself in money, so the
pupils may make the most for themselves in what they call
fun, or, more truly, deceit. And it will last long after the
period of school life is over. It will exhibit itself in an outward
polish of manner, but no ease; a flimsy show of accomplishments, and very little information; a flippant tone of conceit,
and a weak judgment; an intense secret worldliness, combined with the newest fashion in religion. It is not only essentially " of the earth, earthy;" but it implies the lowest
kind of earthliness. And let the instruction given in a school
be what it may-let the scriptural instruction be orthodox, the
precepts of morality pure, the French and German teachers
393
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
unwearied, the music master first-rate-this will be the result
of school education, so long as the pecuniary profit is the first
subject of consideration, and mean economies are practised in
order to save money.
And yet pecuniary profit must be a consideration; the very
existence of a school implies that it is.
Undoubtedly.-But let it be avowed to the parents, not
exhibited to the children.
If young people, not members of the family, are to be
brought up in the habits of cultivated society, they must be
accustomed to comforts and refinements. If they are to learn
what is meant by Christian liberality, thoughtfulness for their
equals, consideration for the needy, these virtues must be exhibited before them. And if the governess does not ask a sufficiently large sum to pay the expenses of her household, and
to leave a surplus for other claims, she cannot teach them these
important lessons; and she is almost inevitably induced to
make economy her first object, and the well-being of the children her second. She cannot give them separate rooms, because that involves taking a larger house, and house-rent is
ruinous. She cannot even fit up the rooms she has, comfortably, so as to ensure privacy, because this involves buying new
furniture, and making other arrangements which cost money.
She cannot give them a good dinner, because that necessitates
a good cook; and good cooks demand high wages. She cannot have a well-appointed table, with sufficient attendance;
because that again requires well-trained servants, who will
expect liberal remuneration. And with all her care, her own
future needs meet her at every turn. How is she to provide
for them?
Numbers.   That is the secret.   Boys are congregated
together by hundreds, and head masters are said to make
wonderful fortunes. Why may it not be the same with girls?
One thing is certain, that no one ever made money-according
to the usual acceptation of the phrase-by taking a few private
pupils. It is possible in this way to live, and to live in com
394 
SCHOOLS AND PRIVATE PuPILS.
fort; but to save largely is out of the question. So it is that
the cry for cheap schools is followed by the establishment of
large schools; and with a large school set up for the purpose
of making money, there must necessarily be associated the
hateful school-girl tone.
And the remedy?  It lies far back, and is very difficult of
attainment, for it rests with no less than three parties.  First,
and most obviously, with the governess.  A person who under takes to educate, cannot conscientiously make money a first
object, however much it may be needed. When we have to
deal with immortal souls, everything which exercises an influ ence upon those souls becomes of primary importance. If
therefore privacy, refinement, personal comfort-a thing per fectly distinct from luxury-and that general sense of ease and
liberality which cannot fail to be associated with a well-ordered
household, are means of influence-as undoubtedly they are then must these things be provided before any attempt is made
to save. To ask a small sum from the parents, and to make
it go as far as a large one, by stinting the children in regard to
those necessaries of life which must tend to form their characters, and give them the habits and tastes of ladies, is deceit of
the worst kind.
And still further, if the fact of herding young girls together
in numbers-even when liberality is practised-involves any
absence of provision for delicacy and modesty; if it renders it
impossible for the governess to give them individual attention;
and necessitates leaving them to inferior teachers, and indiscriminate companionship, and neglecting the personal superintendence, which is the only means of gaining a real influence
over them, then must the idea of making money by numbers
be relinquished. It is a question for each person's conscience.
The ill effects of congregating girls in numbers may not be
evident to all. There may be some who see, or think they see,
means by which it may be avoided. It is only the principle
which is here insisted upon. Education is a religious task.
It must be undertaken in a religious spirit. The fact of being
39,, —) 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
paid for it, and of needing that payment as a means of subsistence, does not, in the very slightest degree, lessen its responsibility, or release those who undertake it from the obligation
of consulting, first, before any private advantage, the moral
well-being of their pupils.
But does this mean that large private schools, low terms,
and good education for girls, are as a rule incompatible? Perhaps it does. Perhaps it would be better for the community
at large if the fact were acknowledged.
Certainly it would be much safer for parents. They would
not then be tempted by cheap schools, in which the deficiencies
of quality are to be made up by quantity. And it would certainly be happier for the governess, who must often be sorely
tried, whilst endeavouring to satisfy her conscience, without
giving up her object.
When we have no anticipations, we have no disappointments.  It is the "hope deferred" which " maketh the heart
sick." We shall do better without any hope, than with one
which is exaggerated. To limit the number of pupils, and to
give them all which is essential for their education in refined
habits, will probably leave only a small surplus for what may
be termed profits.  And personal claims may be many and
heavy; and sickness and age may be looming in the distance;
and when men can summon boys together by hundreds, and
after a few years' labour retire with a fortune, why-it may be
asked-should not women be permitted to do the same with
girls; instead of being called upon to labour for many years,
and retire with only a bare maintenance?
The answer may be very distasteful. But what are we to
do if nature and experience tell us that this gregarious education for girls is injurions?
The aim of education is to fit children for the position in
life which they are hereafter to occupy. Boys are to be sent
out into the world to buffet with its temptations, to mingle -ith
bad and good, to govern and direct.  The school is the type of
the life they are hereafter to lead. Girls are to dwell in
396 
SCHOOLS  ND PRIVATE PUPILS.
quiet homes, amongst a few friends; to exercise a noiseless
influence, to be submissive and retiring. There is no connec tion between the bustling mill-wheel life of a large school and
that for which they are supposed to be preparing. This alone
is a sufficient reason for supposing, even on a cursory glance,
that to educate girls in crowds is to educate them wrongly.
But there are other objections even more important, though
perhaps less obvious.
A boy's mind is not so easily sullied as a girl's. Indiscriminate companionship may with the former have an injurious
effect for the time, but it does not leave the same lasting stain
as with the latter. Undesirable knowledge is not an equal
shock to the moral nature. If a girl's natural delicacy and
modesty are wounded by intercourse with those who have
learnt evil, of which she has hitherto been ignorant, the scars
of the wound remain for years, and the conversation of one
hour will leave its stamp upon the memory for life. And so
also the spirit of independence and determination, the conflict
of opinion, the roughnesses even of a large school, are congenial to a boy's nature, they are utterly opposed to that of a
girl. There is an element of good in these things, but when
applied to girls the evil preponderates. Strong-minded, or, in
other words, masculine women, are no doubt useful in their
generation; but we may well desire to be delivered from them
as a race. And yet further-there is amongst boys, especially
at public schools, a recognition of the world's opinion, a traditionary honour which acts as a check to the pettiness, the deceit, and frivolity that too often characterize assemblies of girls.
Boys sin more openly, but less meanly than girls; and because
their offences are open, they are more easily known and punished, and have less enduring consequences. Girls in a large
school may for months carry on a course of deceit which may
injure them for life, and no one will be the wiser. These considerations alone may be sufficient to show that the objection
to crowding girls together in large schools is founded upon
common sense and experience. Many other evils might be
397 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
adduced, but public opinion, though in this case often exhibited
in the form of prejudice which can give no reason for its
decision, is for the most part enlisted on the same side; and
therefore the subject does not need to be enforced further.
The best that can be said for the opposite view of the question is, that large schools are generally cheaper than those with
limited numbers; and that it is hard that womnen, who have to
labour in the arduous vocation of teaching, should not make a
full profit by it.
Even so; it is hard, in the worldly sense: but it is not
hard in any other sense, because it is in accordance with the
dispensations of God. His Providence works by general laws,
and according to those laws women are not meant to stand
alone, but are made dependent upon men. Exceptions to a
law cannot be judged by the same reasoning which is applied
to the law itself. They must always press hardly, and therefore it is that women who undertake the task of education require above all things to put their work upon the very highest
religious grounds. If they undertake it in the hope of really
making money, they will in all probability either be tempted
to sacrifice the good of their pupils for the attainment of their
purpose, or they will labour in a liberal and conscientious spirit
for years, only to sink at last under the disappointment of unfounded expectations.
Surely it is better far to face the truth at once-to look
upon education as a profession in which persons are especially
appointed to labour for God's service, so long as He gives the
power; and by means of which He wills not that they should
make a fortune and then live at ease, but simply be provided
for when He takes away those powers.
To collect as many children as we can possibly crowd together,-to summon masters and mistresses around us, and
with their aid to carry on a whirling dance through the circle
of sciences and accomplishments supposed necessary for a
finishing education,-and at the end of a few years to pause
breathless, and exclaim, " Thank God, it is over; I have made
398 
SCHOOLS  ND PRIVATE PUPILS.
so many thousand pounds, and now I am free!" may be very
natural, but it is certainly not very elevated. And should the
dance be continued through many years, and no thousands be
forthcoming at the end, then must it be owned to be bitterly disappointing; whilst under any circumstances, if higher considerations are taken into account, the retrospect of such an earthly
aim can scarcely fail to produce keen self-reproach.
399 
CHAPTER XXIX.
SCHOOLS AND PRIVATE PUPILS-( continued).
WE have seen that it is incumbent upon those who receive
pupils to look at the facts of life bravely; to make pecuniary
advantage a thoroughly secondary object, and to put their
work before them in its highest point of view; but assuredly
if this be so, parents are no less called upon to regard education as a good for which they must be willing and prepared to
make sacrifices.
Many-all, indeed, who have their children's true interest
at heart-do so; but they would, perhaps, be more satisfied
if they would sometimes, in imagination, change places with
those who have the responsibility and expense of.education,
and ask how they could themselves have managed, if placed in
a similar position. Persons at whose call money has always
been ready, do not in the least understand what it is to set up
a house without mnoney-to begin life with a burden, and to
struggle for years, and still to be apparently no nearer the
moment of release.  It is not the yearly expenditure which
presses upon the majority of women who undertake a school,
but that which must be incurred before a single pupil can be
received. Education is and must be expensive so long as it is
carried on as a speculation, though one which is perfectly honourable. If, therefore, parents dread the unavoidable evils
which accompany crowding girls together in large numbers,
and inuring them to shabby economies; they must not be ourprised if they are told that smaller numbers, refinement, and
liberality, are incompatib]e with low terms. They may be
vexed to find it so, but they will do wisely to acknowledge it. 
SCHOOLS AND PRIVATE PUPILS.
As a general rule, no education at all at home is better than
that of a large boarding school, where money is a matter of
primary importance. And when parents become convinced
of this, and refuse to sacrifice their children's highest interests
by supporting them, some other means of cheap education
will, it cannot be doubted, be found.
We have learnt to despise day schools; they are looked
upon as plebeian, and, unquestionably, there are serious disadvantages connected with them. Yet, upon consideration, we
may, perhaps, come to the conclusion, that the bad effects of
promiscuous association for a few hours in the day, and for a
special purpose, are not likely to be as great as an almost
equally promiscuous companionship, not only at certain times,
for certain purposes, but throughout the whole day-during
seasons of recreation, and even by night. Children will not
learn good manners at a day school; but will they learn them
at a large boarding school? If a governess at home is, for
any reason, undesirable,-if careful education, with small
numbers, is found too expensive,-it mighlt, possibly, be worth
the trial whether a very superior day school, established in a
locality which provides good masters, might not be carried on
with sufficient pecuniary profit to the governess, and with
greater intellectual advantages, and much less risk to the
children, than that which attends the present system of herding them together in one house. There would be a good deal
of prejudice to contend against at first, and especially the fear
of indiscriminate companionship, which is so objectionable to
our English feeling.  But it must be remembered that we are
only considering a question of comparative evils. And such a
school as is here intended would not profess to be a cheap
school, so as to hold out attractions to persons of really inferior social position. Five-and-twenty pounds a year would be
considered very expensive for a day school; but for that sum
a thoroughly well educated, clever, and high-principled woman
might take the superintendence of twenty children, provide
most efficient assistance, live herself in comfort, and make a
401 " 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
yearly provision for the needs of illness and old age. If she
had to make a home for them, and were to ask forty instead
of five-and-twenty pounds, she would be compelled to take an
expensive house, and so to burden herself with debt at the
outset; to crowd the children in a way which would be utterly
demoralizing; to stint them of everything but bare necessaries; and to obtain the cheapest assistance of whatever kind
it might be; and at the end of the year she would, in all
probability, find herself not only as far off as ever from a provision for the future, but actually with an increase of debt upon
her shoulders.
Really superior women will not take these risks, much less
will they sacrifice the good of their pupils for their own profit.
Cheap schools, therefore, must fall into the hands of an inferior class. Now, it is for parents to consider which is the
best: to give their children the advantage of thoroughly good
teaching for a few hours in the day, undertaking themselves
the responsibility and expense of their home life; or to give
them very inferior teaching, lowering influences, and education
in unrefined habits;-only with the comfort of knowing that
the children will be entirely off their hands for a certain number of months in the year.   The idea here thrown out is
merely a suggestion. It may not be found to answer, but the
present state of female education in England certainly demands that some change should be made by which persons of
small incomes who, from any cause, find it undesirable to educate their daughters at home, may be enabled to give them
really good instruction, and not be compelled to have recourse
to cheap boarding schools.
Perhaps if some such school were once established and supported, it would draw around it persons with small incomes in
the same way as endowed grammar schools do. The daily instruction given at a grammar school will not compare with
the training which a boy receives at Eton, Winchester, or
Harrow, but it is unquestionably better than that of Detheboys Hall.
402 
SCHOOLS AND PRIVATE PUPILS.
Before, however, such a form of education can be adopted,
parents must be prepared to make considerable sacrifices of
time and personal comfort. A governess at home is a luxury,
because she is always ready to do what the mother does not
find it convenient to do. She may be young, inexperienced,
ignorant-still she is the governess, and the children can always be left with her. A child at a boarding school is still
less of a charge, in fact she is no charge at all; the responsibility has been yielded to another, and, except in the holidays,
there is no cause to be anxious about her.
But if young girls are to be absent only a few hours in the
day, they must be their mother's companions at other times, or
what is to be done with them? This is certainly a serious difficulty; but, upon consideration, it seems to have assumed its
present proportions very much in consequence of a huge evil
which has, almost unknown to ourselves, crept stealthily into
our households, until it is gradually moulding the whole
character and tone of the educated classes of the women of
England.
Mothers and daughters live still in the same home, but they
have ceased to live the same lives. The mother's home is the
drawing-room, the child's home is the schoolroom; and when
the mother goes into the schoolroom she is decidedly de trop,
and when the child goes into the drawing-room she puts on her
best frock, and assumes her company manners. Such an
assertion as this is, indeed, very broad-a vast number of exceptions to it may be brought forward-but, nevertheless, it is
most certainly the spirit of the English education of the present
day. Mothers do too often devolve their duties upon others,
and suffer a loss of affection and interest in consequence; and
any kind of education which throws back upon them the daily
charge of their young daughters will be likely to be felt as a
burden. So long as this is the case, a boarding school, though
inferior, will always carry away the palm from a day school,
though the instruction given in it may be of a first-rate character.
Parents therefore, as well as governesses, must be ready to
403 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
do their part in education, if the training of English girls is to
be improved. Those who can give but little for their children's instruction, must be willing to take a larger share of
trouble of a different kind. But, beyond and before all this,
there is a third mode by which the position of governesses of
all kinds would be improved, and the cause of education advanced. It is very obvious-so obvious that the mention of it
will, probably, provoke a smile-and yet it is often singularly
overlooked.
Why is it that, in England, so many fathers in the professional ranks-from which the majority of governesses  are
taken-give little or no thought' to their daughters' future
maintenance, except so far as it may be secured by marriage?
A man, we will suppose, proposes to marry upon a comfortable income, dependent upon his own exertions. He is
ready to make some small provision for his wife; perhaps sufficient for herself, but not in the least sufficient for the expenses of a family. The wife's relations are satisfied with this.
The wife herself has, probably, no fortune, and, therefore, her
prospects are for the present bettered by her marriage; and the
husband's good professional income will, it is thought, allow of
his saving enough for his children. So the marriage takes
place, and for some years all goes well; the household is kept
on a liberal scale; no comforts are denied to any one, and
social claims are well attended to. The boys are sent to a
public school, and from thence to college. The girls are educated at home by a succession of governesses, aided by expensive masters. The father feels that he labours to make money,
and thinks he is at liberty to enjoy it. His circumstances are
affluent, and he has a right to live with all the luxuries and
refinements of affluence. Suddenly he is taken ill; he is on
his deathbed; he thinks of the future for his wife and children,
and he is satisfied.  He made a provision for his wife when he
married, and women require but little; his boys are all plamed
in professions; his daughters will no doubt sooner or later
marry. So, in regard to this one point, he dies happy.
404 
SCHOOLS AND PRIVATE PUPILS.
But what is the true state of the case? There is a provision
for the wife-just enough for her to live upon; but what is
there for the daughters? The sum which was barely sufficient
for one, how can it meet the expenses of four, or perhaps five?
The daughters see this plainly. They cannot be dependent
on their mother. There is but one ithing to be done. They
will take pupils. But this involves a large house-furnishing;
the unnumbered expenses of a new establishment. Then
comes borrowing, then debts and anxiety, and bitter disappointment. They begin life penniless, and in all probability
they will end it penniless.
And this is taking a better case than usual. In very many
instances, women of the educated classes, who are forced to
labour for themselves, have nothing at all to fall back upon;
there is not even a provision for their mother. It is impossible
for them, if they receive pupils into their own homes, to make
education cheap; for to them it is very dear. They must
make the parents of their pupils pay for the claims which
burden them, as well as for the outlay demanded by their
occupation. If they did not, it would not be the part of prudence to labour in such a vocation at all. But now, suppose
the father had exercised a little forethought upon these matters
-suppose he had, during the whole course of his married life,
kept before him, as a subject of the first importance, the position of his daughters after his death, in case they remained unmarried. What difference would it have made in his actions?
First of all, he would certainly have done his utmost to lay by
something for them-even though it might have entailed the
giving up of all personal luxuries. But it is probable that in
many instances, even with the greatest self-denial, to lay by
anything would be found impossible. Saving is a very slow
process, and family and educational expenses are heavy; and
the profession of a gentleman requires, even for its own support, that a man should live as a gentleman. In that case,
surely, a man of sense and principle would put this fact before
his children, and prepare for it.
405 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
Which is the worse for a young girl-to enter upon life
perfectly acquainted with her true position, and ready to do a
definite work in the best way? or to wake up to the necessity
when her nerves are weakened and her heart is oppressed, and
both body and soul are bowed down by the weight of an overwhelming affliction?
It is cowardice and cruelty-the words may seem very
severe, but they are not the less true-to bring up girls with
false expectations; to accustom them to unnecessary luxuries,
and to waste the money which would be of inestimable value
in the future, in indulging all the useless fancies of the present.
True, a father may not be able to leave his daughters enough
for their comfortable maintenance after his death; but he may
save something which shall be an assistance to them when they
are thrown upon their own resources.
A thousand pounds will produce but a very small income;
yet it may make all the difference between beginning work with
a burden of debt, or in the comfort of independence. And if
young people are told what they are to have, and taught beforehand how they are to act, they will lose that sense of helplessness and isolation which crushes a woman's spirit even before
she begins to face the struggle of life.
For women are wholly unlike men in this respect. A young
man is stirred and stimulated by the consciousness of how much
depends upon his own exertions: a young girl is, speaking generally, oppressed by it. She may rise superior to it-hundreds
do,-and struggle nobly, and breast the waves which threaten
to overwhelm them, and at length reach a secure haven; but it
is with the continued sense of something unnatural in their position.   There is a strain upon the intellect, a tension of the
nerves, which blunts the capacity for enjoyment, and produces
premature old age; and this result is almost inevitable: yet it
may be infinitely lessened by care and forethought.
A father who loves his daughters, and takes pride in them,
cannot bear to think of the future in store for them; and because the subject is painful he puts it from him; but if he would
406 
SCHOOLS AND PRIVATE PUPILS.
make that futurepresent, he might often lessen its burden a
hundred-fold.
They must work eventually-why should they not work
now? He is at hand to give them advice and assistance. If
they must hereafter support themselves, either entirely or
mainly, it will surely be much happier for them to go forth to
their labor with a knowledge that they have a shelter to which
they may return, and parents who are watching their success,
than with the terrible sense of desolation which accompanies the
first break-up of a happy home.
The father may find it pleasant to himself to spend his full
income in giving his children indulgences; but it will in the end
be unspeakably pleasanter for them if he will appropriate his
surplus funds to setting them out in the world, through which
they will afterwards have to make their way alone.
It is indeed against our English prejudices for persons liv
ing in a certain circle of society to come forward and bravely
state that they have not the means of maintaining their families
in comfort at the present moment, and at the same time providing a sufficient income for the future. But there are a great
many English prejudices which are in the process of being
broken down; and there are none which may not be ultimately
conquered if only some determined minds will exert themselves
to combat them.  If but a few of the daughters of men living
in comfortable homes, and moving in cultivated society, yet
having no provision for the future, were bravely to come forward and undertake either to be private governesses, or to
receive pupils in their own homes, whilst their fathers are
living, they would set an example which would by degrees be
followed; the world would be compelled to accord to the profession a higher position, and the prejudice would at length be
conquered. With this the whole tone of education would be
raised. Children imbibe insensibly the opinions of their parents; and because, in a social point of view, their governesses
are considered their inferiors, therefore, without meaning it,
they learn to look down upon them; and the reaction upon
407 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
their own minds is most injurious. A boy does not feel this
towards his tutor. Society recognizes the clergyman who
takes pupils as being on a footing with any other gentleman; and even the young nobleman knows that his present
master may, at some future day, take his seat in the House of
Lords. But there is no such elevation in store for a lady.
Her profession is in most cases a descent in the social scale.
She cannot bear to acknowledge this in her own immediate
neighbourhood; and in consequence, when compelled to provide for herself, she seeks a situation where she is unknown,
and where that which she considers humiliation may be less
keenly felt.
Yet her work is directly appointed by God. She is employed to train souls for heaven! If the smile of derision
could ever cross the face of an angel, might it not be excited
by the pride which can think it noble to live at ease, and spend
the precious days of a life, on which Eternity depends, in croquet, light literature, and music;-and humiliating to labour
with the Lord of the Universe, to be a fellow-worker with the
Redeemer of mankind?
But that thought is one which it is in vain to bring before
the world. It may be a support to the governess, but it will
not act upon society at large. That can only be reached by
appeals to its own principles. When the sons of gentlemen
voluntarily enter any particular profession, that profession is
necessarily raised. When the daughters of gentlemen voluntarily do the same, we may expect similar results.
But how would this affect the principles on which school
education is carried on, and how would it act upon the question
of expense? Probably in this way.
If ladies, not absolutely at the moment obliged to educate,
would come forward to undertake the task, they would do so
under more favourable circumstances than can possibly be anticipated under the present system of extreme compulsion.
They would not have the same pressing family claims, or be
called upon to incur a great outlay without being certain of the
408 
SCHOOLS AN) PRIVATE PUPILS.
means of providing for it. Immediate pecuniary profits would
be a less indispensable condition of all these plans. They would
be able to make more careful domestic arrangements, and the
necessity of numbers would be less felt. And these things
would act upon the pupils. They would be a check upon the
school-girl spirit, and raise the whole tone of the household.
A good school in which there would be no overwhelming
numbers, and where the privacy and comfort of the children
were perfectly secured, might be carried on for much less if
there were not relations in the background to be provided for,
and borrowed moneys, demanding a high interest, to be paid
off. Still more would this be the case if the work could be
recognized as a pleasant and honourable profession, involving
no loss of social position; but which might be undertaken in
the vigour of life, and be a happy employment for years, in a
home neighbourhood, and amongst home friends. Highly
educated, superior women, who now undertake schools, begin
their task, for the most part, in middle life, when the spring of
their energy is destroyed, and they are broken down by sorrow.
They know that they have but a few years in which they can
work, and therefore they are compelled to set a high price
upon their labour. They feel that it has displaced them from
their original position, and they find it in consequence unutterably irksome, and their one desire is to shorten the term of
their trial. They cannot afford to wait in the hope of gaining
their end by slow degrees, for if they do they know that they
shall never attain it at all. High terms or none are their only
alternatives. If society complains of the expense, and the inferiority of female education, it must make the profession more
attractive; it must offer counterbalancing advantages for the
sacrifice which it requires. It will never do this of its own
accord, yet it may be compelled to do so by outward pressure;
and that pressure can be put upon it by persons already holding a position in cultivated society, who bravely and voluntarily enter it, working with the highest of all aims, and not
bowed down with the weight of immediate pecuniary need.
18
409 
CHAPTER XXX.
GOVERNESSES IN FAMILIES.
BUT all this time we have been speaking of that much to
be envied class of instructresses who are enabled to carry on
their work in their own houses, and who, whatever may be
their labour and their responsibility, have at least the luxury
of independence, and can make their own arrangements, and
dictate their own terms.
But governesses in private families, what is their position?
How can it in any way be improved?  According to general
report, the position of an                  uia n         -Jy
manage these things better abroad) is infinitely preferable to
that of a governess.   Andyet society, as it-no6wexists, cannot
get on without governesses.  It is, after all, the cheapest kind
of education for a family, and most in accordance with our
English habits. To send a girl away from home for education is almost always a pis aller. It is a plan adopted because
nothing better is practicable. How is it, then, that persons
so indispensably necessary, are looked down upon and made
miserable?
There would seem to be two reasons. First, the social
position in which the world places them. Secondly, that in
which they place themselves.
The first of these subjects has been partially discussed in
the observations already made. Whether a person is a,governess in a private family, or undertakes to receive pupils in
her own home, she must comne before the world with a claim
Z3-1 
GOVERNESSES IN FAMILIES.
for pity, when she begins her work, because she is driven to
it by great pecuniary necessity; and the world's pity is cer  tainly much more akin to contempt than love.
It is very sad, but we shall never make things better by
trying to hide from ourselves the truth. Lessen the compul  sion and the pecuniary need, and you lessen the contempt.
Parents only can do this. They only can sacrifice their own
present gratification for their children's future benefit; and
seeing what lies before their daughters, not only prepare them
for it, but send them out to their work with the shelter and
support of their own name and position. Parents in the lower
classes do so. They place their young daughters in situations
where they can earn their own livelihood; and the little girl
begins her work in the freshness of youth, and earns her small
independence; and, if any care is taken of her, is enabled to
put by trifling sums which, gradually accumulating, become
the nest egg that is to give her the means of marrying should
the opportunity offer. Amongst the lower orders, the woman
can contribute her share towards the commencement of house keeping, because she has been permitted to work for it.
Xmongst the educated classes she pines in silent dejection and
hopelessness, because society has thought fit to assert that the
woman who works for herself loses her social position; and
no one has the courage to brave the assertion, and the daugh ter is not permitted to labour for herself, whilst the father holds
his social rank as heretofore.
But even supposing a young girl to begin life as a gov erness under the most favourable circumstances-with a par ent's sanction and assistance, without any heavy pressure of
pecuniary need, and with all the hope and energy of youth still the position is one of dependence and inferiority.  Ser vants will be disrespectful, visitors will be wanting in cour tesy. There must be a sense of humiliation.
Must!  That is a word very commonly used, merely be- 
cause no one will take the trouble to inquire whether any other
is more fitting. Humiliation implies the loss of something to
411 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
which we have a right; but if we have no right there can be
no humiliation. The prince is humbled when he is treated as
a subject; but the subject accepts the same treatment with indifference.
And it is a question of serious moment whether the complaints of neglect made by governesses do not very frequently
arise more from the false view which they take of their own
position, than from any intentional absence of kindness and
attention from the persons with whom they live. As a general rule, foreign governesses are much more agreeable inmates
of a house than English ones. Something of this may be owing
to the interest excited by difference of manner, dress, and tone.
Something, also, to the imposing influence of a foreign tongue,
which takes no note of difficulties that to ourselves are insurmountable. A good Parisian accent will always command a
certain amount of respect.   But beyond all is the fact that
foreigners are less tenacious of their dignity-they are less
suspicious of insult, and therefore less apt to take offence. No
doubt this arises in a great measure from their ignorance of
English customs. They are ignorant of what ought to be, and
therefore they cannot criticize. The result of such happy ignorance is an ease of manner which produces similar ease in
the persons with whom they live.  They find each other mutually agreeable, kind, helpful; and so are ultimately placed
on a footing of cordiality, and often of real friendship.
Now, all this is quite apart from the question of sterling
worth. The English governess may be worth tenfold more
than the foreign one-looking to moral qualities and real
information; but if she is inferior in good-humour and
agreeability, she will never be placed on the same comfortable footing.
The real discomfort of a governess's position in a private
family arises from the fact that it is undefined. She is not
a relation, not a guest, not a mistress, not a servant-,but
something made up of all.  No  one knows exactly how to
treat her, and therefore she is subject to what appears to
I-" Iq C)
412 
GOYVERNESSES IN FAMILIES.
be caprice, though it is often merely awkwardness and igno rance.
This is very unpleasant; but so are a great many other
things in life. It rests with the governess to make it less so
by recognizing it. She enters the family as a stranger. For
the most part its members are quite as much afraid of her as
she is of them. If it is their duty to put her at ease with
them, it is equally her duty to put them at ease with her; and
this can only be done by showing that she knows the place she
is called upon to fill, and that she desires to fit herself into it,
and make herself comfortable in it.   Comfortable-not ne cessarily happy; for happiness must depend upon many cir cumstances over which strangers have no control. A young
girl, for instance, who, having lost her father, has just been
thrown penniless upon the world, and knows that those she
loves best are enduring heavy trials, cannot be happy; but the
persons with whom she is to live as governess are not responsible for her unhappiness, though they are for her comfort.
False dignity, however, never can make itself comfortable; it
is always on the gui vive to take offence, and as a natural consequence it is always giving offence.
A governess not being a relation cannot expect immediately to be treated as such. She cannot enter into all the little
family interests, and at first she will often feel herself in the
way. Then, surely, it is the part of wisdom to keep out of
the way. If a husband can only enjoy his wife's society for a
few hours in the evening, he can scarcely help feeling the constant presence of a third person an annoyance. The governess
may, as a general rule, expect always to join the family party
in the evening, but it may be more considerate at times to
keep away from it; or to go to her own room earlier, just to
show that she recognizes her position, and is not fretted by it.
So, again, she is not a guest. She cannot, therefore, expect
the privileges of a guest.  The mistress of the house will pay
attentions to her friends which she will not pay to her; yet
there may not be the slightest intentional neglect. If the gov
413 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
erness will fit herself into this state of things, and instead of
standing proudly aside, witing for notice which never comes,
will take advantage of being an inmate of the house, and unobtrusively do her best to make everything pass off pleasantly,
she will find both the visitors and the lady of the house much
more ready to meet her on a pleasant footing, because they
unconsciously feel at ease with her. Once more, she is not
the mistress of the house, therefore she must often obey, and
always show deference in manners and words, and this is a
severe trial to a proud, independent spirit. But the moment
a mother feels that the principle of recognition of her own
position and her supreme authority is owned, she will be contented; and in return for the acknowledgment on the part of
the governess that it is her part to yield, she will be ready to
allow that the governess is not a servant, and must, therefore,
in her own peculiar province, be permitted to rule.
The relation between a mother and a governess does, indeed, require tact, but it is a tact founded upon self-evident
truths. If a governess will not own these truths she must be
miserable, but she has only herself to blame. It is not, indeed,
for a moment asserted that the life of a governess is not one
of great trial, or that the sources of her wretchedness lie
wholly in herself; but there is a tendency in the present day
to attribute the trial entirely to the position without regard to
other circumstances, and thus to make it appear that it is
impossible for a person holding such a position ever to be
happy.
Now, putting aside the very low view of duty, which this
idea involves,-ignoring, as it does, that the consciousness of
working for God may be, in itself, a very deep and lasting
happiness,-there is little doubt that the view thus commonly
taken of a governess's life must act prejudicially on the minds
of those young persons who are called upon to enter it. It is
painted in such lugubrious colours that they shrink from it as
from some inevitable suffering. The energy and hope which
would brace them for their duties are taken away before they
414 
GOVERNESSES IN FAMILIES.
can enter upon them. The mother of the family is always to
be.stiff, the children are to be spoilt and obstinate, the visitors
are to be proud, and the poor governess herself is to be in tensely lonely.
Certainly these things are too often met with; but, on the
other hand, there are instances, not few, in which the govern ess, by high principle, refinement, tact, has made her way into
the hearts of those with whom she has lived, until she has be come their dearly valued friend, and has lived with them happily for years. There might be many more if, at the outset,
the life were not looked upon with a jaundiced eye. The effect
of that mutual ease which arises from a clear perception of
relative position, has already been spoken of, and, when once
this freedom of feeling has been attained, the situation of a
governess will no longer be irksome.
And for the other trials which in all probability will press
heavily upon her, it must be remembered that they are not
necessarily connected with her  office.  They belong to the
special kind of adversity with which it has pleased God to
afflict her.  She is poor-but it is not being a governess that
makes her so. She is compelled to live away from her relations-but so are a great many other persons in every rank of
life. Servants pass their lives amongst strangers, but we do
not find that they are always miserable in consequence. She
is obliged to work when she is weary and heart-sick.  Who
amongst the millions that earn their own livelihood is not compelled to do the same? She has no certain provision for sickness and age, but as a governess she has at least a chance of
securing something.
But she has lost her social position, she is treated with
neglect and disrespect. Yes. There is the trial. There lies
the obstacle to happiness, and in so far as it is not the result
of a morbid worldliness which would make its owner wretched
in any situation, it must be removed by the governess herself.
She must make her own position by defining it for herself
instead of leaving it for others to define it for her. What she
415 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
is, or may be, if she will-in the sight of God and His Angels
-has already been said. It would seem that no earthly honour could add to or take away from the dignity of a fellowworker with Christ.
What she is in the sight of man must depend upon her
own conduct.  No pride, however overbearing, can long withstand the quiet self-respect of thorough good breeding, which
will always accord to others the place that is their due, and
will never thrust itself into a position to which it is not entitled.
But if much of the happiness of a governess depends upon
herself, all her comfort rests with the mother or the mistress
of the family in which she resides. It would seem almost unnecessary to enter upon this subject. Every one knows and
talks about it. The very fact of the pity bestowed upon the
governesses in England shows how universal is the feeling
that in too many instances they are not properly cared for, and
that their services are not valued and recompensed aright.
The wages of a lady's-maid and of a nursery governess are
about equal. The footman may compare with the well-informed
governess who cannot undertake accomplishments; whilst the
coachman and butler may be placed side by side with the highly educated lady, who is to teach all accomplishments, to know
two or three modern languages, to be thoroughly well read, to
possess the highest principles, and to be blessed with perfect
wisdom and an angelic temper; and who, for a hundred a year,
is expected to dress well, to provide her own travelling and
holiday expenses, to pay her doctor, to assist her relations, and
to lay by enough to make herself comfortable in age.
It is not said that a governess with a hundred a year may
not do all this, but there is no doubt that it will be a matter of
difficulty, and that with a less sum the hope of providing for
the necessities of sickness and age is almost vain. There are
very charitable people who would willingly give their twenty
pounds a year to the support of charitable institutions which
are to assist governesses, and persons of a like class, who have
416 
GOVERNESSES I  FAMILIES.
fallen into, what is called, distressed circumstances; but who
would think themselves likely to be ruined if a lady, wishing
to be a governess, were to ask for an additional sum of ten
pounds, in order that she might never be reduced to such
aid.
Our lunatic asylums, our workhouses, and-alas for Eng land that it should be so!-even our penitentiaries, are too often
homes for decayed, distressed, destitute governesses. Are these
institutions no burden to us?  Might it not be wiser and better
if, when we are reckoning up our charities, we calculated so
much less for the unhappy persons who are already their inmates,
and so much more for those who may, sooner or later, be com pelled to take refuge in them, if we insist upon driving the
hard bargain which we call prudence? Every person must be
judge in his own case. There must be a vast number who really
have it not in their power to give a larger salary than they already offer; and there must be many governesses who are
thankful to take what they can get, and leave the future in
God's Hands; but it is, nevertheless, the bounden duty of every
one, who engages a governess, to consider what it is right to
offer; and to measure the question of right by what it is known
must be the governess's expenses and needs. If an additional
five pounds, denied to a mother's own expenditure (perhaps in
dress), would enable the governess to put five pounds into the
savings bank; whereas, without it, she would merely be able
to provide herself with respectable clothing, and pay her travelling and holiday expenses; then the self-denial ought to be
practised, and the governess's salary increased. And so in other
cases. MAloney expended upon luxuries and pleasures, and grudged
to the governess, is money denied to Lazurus, and spent by
Dives.
And, here again, an appeal may be made to fathers to consider betimes their daughters' future needs, and, so far as it is
in their power, to provide for them.
The hope of leaving them even five hundred pounds' may
be an impossibility; the idea of setting them out in life by
417 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
taking pupils in a house of their own may be impracticable;
but if they can save anything, if they can put by only a few
pounds in a savings bank, yet, in pity to their children, let them
do it. The difference between starting in life actually penniless,
or with only twenty pounds in reserve, is incalculable. So
very small a sum it appears to the father, accustomed to the
expenses of a household,-it seems scarcely worth while to go
through the little se]f-denials, by which such a trifle is to be
saved. And yet that twenty pounds may make all the difference between hope and despair; possibly between sin and salvation! It may bridge over the gulf, into which absolute destitution would have plunged, and give a breathing time, during
which rescue may be at hand. Or if no such time of trial
should in God's Providence be appointed, yet the possession of
even so small a sum will give a sense of support to the young
girl first setting out to earn her own independence. It willbe
something for her to fall back upon; it may be the nucleus to
which she will have a pleasure in adding, and assist in the formation of habits of care and economy, which will ultimately
place her in a position of independent ease.
How fathers who neglect to provide for their daughters,
when it is in their power-even as they enable their sons to
provide for themselves-justify to themselves their  singular
blindness, it is impossible to say. It is only to be hoped that
God sees more excuses for them than their fellow-creatures can.
Judging them by the standard of common sense, it would seem
that the man is worse than a fool who does not, at all periods
of his life, face the position in which his wife and daughters
must be left in the event of his death, and prepare for it
accordingly. He may have years of prosperity before him, in
which he may be able to secure a fortune for them. He may
be justified in calculating upon this probability, it may cheer
and inspirit him. But at the present moment if he were to die
-and what a tremendous "if" that is-they would nothave
enough to live upon.  Painful as the thought is, he may not
dare to put it aside. And surely it must compel him to be
418 
GOVERNESSES IN FAMILIES.
economical, to save the utmost he can; to put aside five
pounds, if he cannot spare a hundred; to store up shillings, if
he cannot lay by sovereigns. If this were done as it ought to
be, what a moral revolution it would create in England!
Many of the most crying evils of our luxurious age arise from
the pressure of poverty upon those who are unprepared to
meet it. The sins of the fathers are, by the working of natural
laws, visited on the children; and although there are unhappily many cases in which it is absolutely out of the father's
power to lay by anything, and in which he can but trust his
children to God's care in a spirit of faith, these instances are
by no means the majority; and He who has said, "Leave thy
fatherless children, I will preserve them alive; and let thy
widows trust in Me," I has also said, "If any provide not for
his own, and specially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel." 2
It is for the fathers of the present day to take warning;
and if they look with surprise and horror at the statistics of
our charitable institutions, to remember that, by indulging
their own selfish affection, and spending money upon their
daughters' amusements, instead of laying it by for their future
maintenance, they are doing their best to add to that sickening
catalogue of sin and misery which makes the heart of the
Christian grow faint, and tempts the blasphemer to ask, " Is
there a God in Heaven?"
But to return again to the duties involved in the relation
which subsists between the mother of a family and the governess.
The amount of salary is but one amongst many points
which the mistress of a household is, in this case, to consider.
It is scarcely possible that a governess's services should be
adequately remunerated, and therefore she is more entitled to
the privileges which are to make amends for the pecuniary disadvantage.
When complaints are made of the smallness of a clergy
419
' Jer. xlix, 1 1.
I I Tim.  8. 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
man's income, one of the plausible arguments brought forward
on the opposite side is, that the position which is ensured to
him makes up for the absence of money; the fact being overlooked that the necessity of keeping up such a position makes
the need of money greater, and thie want of it the more distressing. But, however unsound this argument may be, the
use of it is at least an acknowledgment that social position is
somewhat of an equivalent for poverty, and therefore the loss
of that position in the case of a governess must be considered
as so much additional poverty. We cannot change the state
of society at once. There is no magic wand by which we
may cause a certain class of persons to be recognized as equal,
when English pride and prejudice have decided that they are
not equal; but it is in the power of every mistress of a family to do something towards breaking down barriers which exclusiveness has erected; and to define in her own household
the position of friendliness and respect which the governess
ought to occupy.
As she treats the governess, so, as a rule, will the servants
and visitors treat her; and it is from them that the petty annoyances arise which make the posit-'on of a governess so trying. And the obligation lies equally upon the master of a
family. It is often to please him that the governess is put in
the background. He comes home from his day's employment
weary, and perhaps irritable, and he wishes to be with his
wife and children alone. The presence of a third person is
irksome; and, therefore, when the governess undertakes her
duties, she is made to understand that she will only be expected to spend the evening in the drawing-room when she is
invited. And on those special occasions she is still more of an
interruption, because the ordinary family habits are disturbed
by her presence. But if parents wish their children to be well
educated, they must make personal as well as pecuniary sacrifices. Money will not purchase what they want. They desire
a sensible, affectionate, sincere friend, who is to watch over
their children when they cannot do it themselves. Kindness
420 
GOVERNESSES IN FAMILIES.
and affection are to be won,-not bought. If they will make
the governess one of their family, she will share their interests,
and exert herself for them, at all hours, and on all occasions.
If they shut her out from it, she must almost inevitably be
thrown back upon what will seem to be her own interests.
She will feel that for so much money she is expected to under take so much work; and when she has completed this, she
will imagine herself at liberty to provide for her own gratification, leaving it to the mother to do whatever else the'children's well-being may require. Parents cannot enjoy the
pleasure connected with the companionship of children, unless
they undertake the corresponding duties. They may, if they
will, bear the whole responsibility of education themselves;
but, in that case, they must do the work. If in any degree
they devolve this responsibility upon another, then, according
to that degree, they must be prepared to yield a portion of
their parental privilege; that is to say, they must give up a
certain amount of authority, they must be contented to find
another sharing their children's respect and affection; and
they must be willing to admit the person on whom they depend
to fulfil the task which they are unable to undertake themselves, to that position in their family which her important
office demands.
Unless this is done, the children will suffer the inevitable
result of a false relation. Their governess is their superior,
yet not their superior. They are called upon to obey her, yet
they see her treated with disrespect. They are told that she
is clever and good, but they find that nevertheless she is always kept in the background. They are inclined to be fond
of her, but their mother is perhaps jealous of their affections,
and they dare not show it. Such an unsettled state of feeling
must produce unsettled conduct. Children can never be rightly
governed by any one whose right to authority and respect they
are at liberty to dispute. They will be disobedient and wilful.
The governess will punish them. The children will appeal to
their mother, who very probably will take their part. They
421 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
will then, of course, be more naughty, and the governess in
her turn will appeal. The mother will be fretted with both
parties, and lay the blame of the contest on the governess's
temper.
A change of dynasty will necessarily follow. But let the
new governess be an angel of sweetness and wisdom, still she
cannot make her way. The under-current of neglect and want
of respect is too strong for her. She will probably resign her
post long before her resignation is desired, and a successor will
be needful. So it will go on again and again; and at the end
the children will come forth from the hands of a series of governesses, critical instead of submissive; self-opinionated instead of humble-minded; having spent the most important
years of their young lives in unlearning under one plan of instrLuction what they had acquired under the preceding; and
finding themselves at last standing on the threshold of life, with
only one certain conviction, that they have never been taught
anything properly, and that governesses are simply a mistake
and an imposition. When in after years they have households
and families of their own, this early prejudice will almost certainly remain, and they will treat a governess as their parents
in former days treated her; and so the tradition of evil is 
handed down, and the customs of society, which depreciate the 
position of a governess, are strengthened.
422
I 
CHAPTER XXXI.
THE TRAINING OF GOVERNESSES.
WHAT has been said hitherto has been based upon the supposition that governesses are always persons who can be admitted to friendship, and are competent to exercise authority.
But it may be objected, and with great truth, that in this possibility the whole difficulty of the question lies. If these ideal
governesses existed, would society venture to look down upon
them?  If they do not exist, is society in fault?
The question as to what society would venture to do can
only be answered by experience. As a rule it now worships
rank, wealth, and talent. Whether it will ever be induced to
admit good sense, good breeding, and high principle into the
number of its idols remains to be proved. But supposing that
it would, it must candidly be acknowledged that English governesses cannot always establish a claim to such honour.
Perhaps it is the same with all professions. The number
of those who may be termed first-rate or superior will always
be few. And governesses come before the world at a great
disadvantage. -ery many are ladies who have never been
trained for their duties, and are sensitively alive to what they
consider the humiliation of their position. Many are persons
who have never mixed in good society; whilst a third class
will be found to consist of young persons, left orphans at an"
early age, who have been educated for their work at some
public institution, and are sent forth from it into private house 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
holds, with scarcely any experience of the world or the needs
of domestic life. It is not to be wondered at if, amongst persons so variously circumstanced, there should be found habits
and tempers which must render it extremely difficult to admit
them all to the intimacies of home life. Yet more-it must be
admitted, though with very great regret, that the persons most
calculated by their manners and general tone to be agreeable
friends and companions are by no means the most likely to
teach well.
A good governess, in the ordinary sense, is a quick, clever
woman, who is a first-rate musician, an excellent linguist and
historian, who can discourse upon any "ology" which happens to be a subject of interest for the moment, and, by dint
of indefatigable industry and energy, can enable her pupils to
shine somewhat as she shines herself.
Let English ladies answer for themselves, whether, speaking generally, they are at all able to compete with such a candidate. Where is the young lady of three or four and twenty
who would like to undergo a searching examination in history,
geography, and languages; or who would undertake to answer
the questions which are put to boys before they enter the army
or the Indian Civil Service? The very small amount of information which enables women to make a fair show in society
is really ludicrous. Any one who has had much to do with
girls who are supposed to have finished their education must
be aware of this. There is no time allowed for real study, at
the age when study becomes most important.   Our grandmothers thought eighteen quite young enough for an initiation
into the mysterious delights of "coming out;" but seventeen
is the age which is now more generally fixed upon; and as a
natural result, at sixteen the young ladies begin to dream of
balls, and to consider lessons a drudgery; and when once
fairly launched into the world, the idea of really cultivating
the mind is almost, if not altogether, laid aside.  If parents
are wealthy, the daughters have the claims of a large circle of
friends and constant engagements; if they are not, they have
424 
THE TRAINING OF GOVERNESSES.
to share household duties and home anxieties. The light literature of the day is all they have leisure to read; and the
history and geography which were learnt in the schoolroom
are remembered only in their vague outlines. A few prominent names and facts are retained-just sufficient to keep them
from committing any gross blunders in conversation, and to
enable them to show the requisite amount of interest in the
topics of the day; but beyond this all is chaos. Yet, it may
be said, they do very well. Women have such a natural
readiness, they so soon perceive quicksands in conversations,
and are so clever in avoiding them. It is very rarely that
even the most ignorant will venture out of her depth. And
then information in a woman is, it is supposed, not wanted.
It does not attract. Men are rather shy of it. It savours of
the pedantic. They like being listened to deferentially, and
think argument with a woman beneath them. The clever
woman, who has an opinion of her own, is alarming, more
especially if she ventures to strengthen her statement by facts.
The gentle young girl who looks up with timid admiration,
asks a few sensible questions, and says " Yes" and " No" at
the right moment, is delightful.
And if the voyage of life could always be made in smooth
water-if there were no " changes and chances," no death,
no poverty-these refined, timid, ignorant girls might pass
the time of their earthly sojourn in rest and happiness.
They know enough to please their parents-more than enough
to delight their husbands. They will make obedient wives
and careful mothers; and as they were instructed themselves,
so can their children be instructed. It is all simple, natural,
easy of attainment. But, suddenly it may be, storms gather
on the horizon, rumours of losses, symptoms of illness: the
dark cloud of poverty, though "small but as a man's hand,"
looms in the distance. Rapidly it widens and spreads, and in
a moment it bursts.   These pleasant-mannered, interesting
young girls are destitute. They have to maintain themselves,
and only one profession is open to them. They must be gov
425
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
ernesses. What can they teach? What do they know? They
themselves will answer-in all humility and truthfulness N'othing." But their friends will answer for them. They
have had a good education, they can play a little, and sing a
little, and speak a little French, and read a little German;
and of course they know something of geography and history.
And then they are so thoroughly refined and well-bred, there
can be no difficulty in procuring for them good situations.
The young ladies are told that they must profess to teach all
which they are supposed to know, and they obey. A situation
is offered them: a home, in which they are to be quite happy.
"They will be so well treated, and made entirely one of the
family!"
It is all bright, couleur de rose, so far as any such position,
under such circumstances, can be; and the young governess is
found to be really all that has been said of her, as regards
sweet temper, and amiability, and good principle. Only, unfortunately-it is very disappointing-she knows nothing. The
bubble of information which in the clear air and the sunshine
of prosperity shone so gaily, and floated so lightly, has burst.
She is perfectly incompetent for her task. She has but a
vague recollection of what she once knew. She feels no certainty about anything she attempts. She has not the slightest
idea how to teach so as to interest children. She can but go
through a dull routine which makes the daily lessons irksome
to herself and her pupils. She is herself wholly dissatisfied,
so are the parents. They feel a change must be made; and
at length they say so, " with great regret, but they must consider their children's good;" and the poor young girl leaves
her situation stamped with the brand of incapacity.
There is no need to follow the sad history of trial and discouragement further. All know what it must be. Refinement
of manner, good taste, and good breeding, like everything else,
have only a certain marketable value. They are inestimiable
treasures in themselves, but if the world needs something else
they will not find purchasers.
426 
CHAPTER XXXI.
THE TRAINING OF GOVERNESSES.
WHAT has been said hitherto has been based upon the supposition that governesses are always persons who can be admitted to friendship, and are competent to exercise authority.
But it may be objected, and with great truth, that in this possibility the whole difficulty of the question lies.  If these ideal
governesses existed, would society venture to look down upon
them?  If they do not exist, is society in fault?
The question as to what society would venture to do can
only be answered by experience. As a rule it now worships
rank, wealth, and talent. Whether it will ever be induced to
admit good sense, good breeding, and high principle into the
number of its idols remains to be proved. But supposing that
it would, it must candidly be acknowledged that English governesses cannot always establish a claim to such honour.
Perhaps it is the same with all professions. The number
of those who may be termed first-rate or superior will always
be few. And governesses come before the world at a great
disadvantage. -Very many are ladies who have never been
trained for their duties, and are sensitively alive to what they
consider the humiliation of their position. Many are persons
who have never mixed in good society; whilst a third class
will be found to consist of young persons, left orphans at anearly age, who have been educated for their work at some
public institution, and are sent forth from it into private house 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
seeking a remedy. We owe to this acknowledgment the foun  dation of a college in London, where men of distinguished
ability have given time and attention to lectures and classes
upon all subjects, which may be attended by young women de  sirous to qualify themselves for being governesses.  We hear
also of efforts made to extend the stimulus of examination by
university men, to young girls educated either at school or at
home. The need is pressing, and each person is tempted to
adopt the panacea nearest at hand. And no one can say that
such remedial measures have entirely failed, or are certain to
fail. There is no doubt that Queen's College is a great assistance
in enlarging the mninds of those who frequent it, with a real
desire to profit by its advantages. It may be expected also
that, should the idea of public examinations ever be adopted,
it would rouse to the utmost the mental energies of those who
have always been inclined to work; but putting aside all other
objections to such measures-to the latter especially-it may
be permitted to question whether the system pursued in either
of these cases can really prove a remedy adequate to the need,
because both deal with only one side of a great question.
"'They offer assistance to the mental deficiency, but they leave
the moral untouched.
And that for a very plain, almost a self-evident, reason.
They are both worked by men; and men, however earnest,
devoted, and intellectual, are not the persons whom nature
points out as fitted to be the educators of young girls.
It is indeed one of the good points of the schemes to which
reference has been made, that they do not profess to attempt
moral training.  Yet without it, how is the standard for Eng lish governesses to be raised?
But we may go still further, and assert that as English
society is at present constituted even the intellectual training of
girls by men is not without serious risks; that it works for
good only when counteracted by a very strong womanly mfiu ence which can guard and check it. Any one who has had
much to do with young girls of the educated classes will prob
428 
THE TRAINING OF GOVERNESSES.
ably own that in most instances there are but three points of
view in which they are likely to regard their gentlemen teach ers. Either they will be afraid of them-or they will quiz
them-or they will make romances about them. Fear, ridi cule, and romance are not very elevating influences. The
last indeed will often be hid under the veil of respect; but if
examined it will be seen that underneath lies a very large admixture of vanity and excitement, which cannot fail to do
grave injury.
Women can deal with women as men never can. They
know the material upon which they have to operate. They
are not kept back by any chivalrous feeling from plain statements of truth; and they can enter into innumerable little difficulties which to a man are simply incomprehensible. The
most sensible man will now and then give advice to a young
girl, at which a sensible woman will lift up her hands in astonishment. Above all, women can give girls sympathy with
safety, and sympathy is the great instrument of influence with
all young people.
If the standard of governesses in England is ever to be
raised, it must, so it would seem, be through the medium of
women; of persons gifted with that rare quality-common
sense-and who, being well educated, well informed, thoroughly refined, and accustomed to good society, will devote
themselves to the training of young governesses. under their
own eye; giving them all the sympathy and comfort of home
friendship, whilst showing them how they may cultivate whatever talents they possess, and make them most serviceable to
their pupils. The only way in which anything of this kind is
now attempted is in large schools, where the governess receives a pupil teacher, giving her the advantage of masters,
whilst making her useful in instructing the younger children.
But this, it will be seen at once, is only a question of mutual
convenience. The governess wants help, the pupil teacher
wants instruction. It is a case of barter. There is nothing
429
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
noble in it, nothing winning to the affections, or likely to exercise a permanent influence for good.
Is it a dream of Utopia that at some not distant day we
may find training homes for governesses established, as well as
training schools for National Schoolmistresses? Such an
undertaking would demand an outlay of money at first, but,
possibly, in the end it might be made self-supporting. The
young governesses would be expected to contribute something,
and if they could not do it themselves, they would almost certainly find friends who would be thankful, for a small sum, to
secure for them permanent advantages. And, perhaps, if the
plan were carried out in London, or some large town, by one
in whom the world had confidence, parents, with only moderate
incomes, might be induced to try the working of a thoroughly
superior day-school, attached to the home, in which their children might have the stimulus and interest of competition, and
the advantage of good masters, and still be kept under their
own eye.
If this plan could once be set on foot, the young governesses,
whilst studying themselves, might be practically taught how to
make children study. And they would have experience without risk. They would be tried indeed, and their faults would
be developed, but they would be made to see them, and be
shown how to guard against them. Intellectually, they would
have the great benefit of discovering their deficiencies, and
remedying them, so far as time and opportunity would allow;
and-what is infinitely more important-they would learn how
to employ their natural superiority in age and experience, so as
to make up for any want of actual information; and by continuing the task of self'teaching, and self-improvement, they
would learn how to keep themselves in advance of their pupils,
and ensure their respect, even though occasionally they might
be forced to own themselves ignorant.
The position of the head of such a home would, indeed, be
difficult and arduous. She would havetotake carethatthe school
was carefully and well worked, and to superintend and work in it
430 
THE TRAINING OF GOVERNESSES.
herself; and when the actual labour of tuition was over, she
would have to make herself the friend and guide, the comforter and confidante, of the young inmates of her house. It
would be the duty of the mother of a family, added to that of
the governess. And there could be no idea of pecuniary remuneration. If not called upon to sacrifice her own fortune,
the utmost she could expect would be to save herself from diminishing it. She might cover her expenses; it cannot be expected that she should do more.  She must, therefore, be found
in the upper classes of society, amongst those who have all that
this world can give in comfort and luxury, but are willing to
sacrifice that all, if need be-for Christ's sake.
Time was, when the expectation of meeting with such a
person would have been pronounced hopeless, but late experience
has shown that women are to be found capable of making any
sacrifice, and undertaking any amount of labour, if the object
can be proved to be worthy of the effort. In the present case,
all persons, probably, would agree in the importance of raising
the standard of governesses in England, and through these
means improving education throughout the whole country. The
only difference of opinion would be as to the means to be employed. With regard to governesses themselves, the advantages to be derived from such home training would seem too
obvious to be dwelt upon. There is, probably, no one who, on
looking round a circle of acquaintances, cannot instantly
fix upon some case in which the opportunity for study and experience which it would offer, would be felt to be invaluable as
a preparation for the work of tuition.
And it must be remembered that female superintendence and
guardianship need not necessarily interfere with the advantages to be derived fiom the partial instruction of men.  No
lady would compete, or wish to compete, with the able professors of Queen's College, for instance. She would only be
too glad that the young girls under her charge should take ad- 
vantage of their lectures. All that she could desire would be
to render them appreciated; to see that what was taught was
431
I 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
thoroughly worked into the mind; and to show, by practical
experience, how it might be made useful for the benefit of
younger children.
For the instruction of young children is a subject distinct
in itself. The neglect of the lesser regulations which enforce
discipline and order in a schoolroom will interfere with their
progress, even under a very clever governess; whilst the attempt to give them general information, if it is beyond their
power, or if they have no sufficient foundation of elementary
facts, will ultimately prove a failure. And a most essential
part of good education, also, which nothing but practical experience can teach, is the very small amount of privation
and punishment which, judiciously administered, will be perfectly efficacious in keeping any girls in order. Men, accustomed to deal with the more violent and headstrong nature of
boys, do not always comprehend this; and women, when they
are inclined to be strict disciplinarians, will scarcely believe
it. Three parts of the discipline of a schoolroom may be
maintained by the mere working of regular and well understood
laws, carefully enforced. And should any further interference
be required, once gain a young girl's thorough respect, and the
mere tone of the voice will be sufficient to touch the heart, and
lead it to repentance and amendment.
And though the young people who desire to be governesses
are often very unfit for their office, when their actual amount
of information is alone considered, yet, if they have anything
like common ability, they may, after the training, even of a
year, be raised to a much higher level. After all, it is the
mind itself, not the information which it has absorbed, that is
the efficient engine in instruction. Almost all women who, at
the present time, are undertaking to teach, have, probably, felt
this. Their task has, most likely, presented itself to them
unexpectedly. They were not trained for it. They have been
learning all their lives,just as their pupils have been learning;
and they have made their mistakes, and have to lament failures,
and to grieve over their own incompetency. It has, possibly,
432 
THIE TRAINING OF GOVERNESSES.
been a matter of surprise to themselves how, with their small
amount of actual information, they have been able to teach
anything.
It is the mind-the working of thought and experience which has placed them above their pupils. The children will,
probably, remember the dates of the English kings perfectly,
whilst the governess is by no means certain of them; but the
reason why the knowledge of those dates is an advantage-the
use of them as pegs on which to hang other contemporaneous
facts, so as to arrange the history of the world in order, and
from this history to deduce the great principles of God's Prov idential government of mankind, and to connect it with what
we are permitted to know of the vast scheme of the universe is quite beyond a child's natural power of thought to originate,
though it is not beyond its comprehension when once presented
to it. Children are not at all injured by finding their governess
ignorant of certain facts, so long as they feel the superiority
of her mind. They quite appreciate the distinction between
memory and thought; and thus, a comparatively small stock
of information, with a really working reflective mindand habits of industry, will enable a young person to teach both agreeably and well, if she can only acquire that preliminary experience which is needed to give her confidence, and with which
even a year's judicious training may supply her.
And so, also, the moral powers will be found to multiply
the intellectual to an extent which is almost incredible, until it
has been actually observed.
A young governess undertakes her first situation, probably,
in complete ignorance of her own qualifications for government. She does not even know what qualifications government requires. She has not the least idea that it must first of
all begin with self, and that unless it does so it must infallibly
fail. Her only idea is that of authority and obedience: the
former  exercised through the medium of words, the latter exhibited in action. She has no perception of the fact that if she
insists upon her pupils being attentive while she herself is list
19
433 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
less, she is counter-ordering by her behaviour what she is enforcing in her language; neither does she see, that if she is
obeyed simply because the children dread punishment, the obedience is not due to the power of a right authority, but to the
spirit of fear, and, therefore, is, in reality, no obedience at all.
These things and many more must be learnt before a young
governess can educate properly, and they can only be acquired
by training and experience. When they are acquired, however,
the task of educating ceases to be irksome. Persons always
like to do what they feel they can do well; and a great element of happiness in the life of one who has to teach others,
is the feeling that she can govern judiciously and instruct with
interest.
No wonder, then, that young governesses are unhappy,
since, too often, they can do neither. But a little preparatory guidance would go a great way towards remedying these
evils. And if a girl has really high religious principle, and
can rule and influence rightly, her instruction will, in the end,
be worth more than that of a cleverer person who is inferior
in moral power. It will make less show, but it will be more
durable. What is taught will be taught carefully, conscientiously, thoroughly. The children will feel the elevating influence of the mind to which they are called upon to submit.
They will exert themselves heartily; they will feel pleasure in
giving pleasure by their improvement; and when once this
feeling is introduced into a schoolroom, lessons are no longer a
drudgery. But high moral and religious principles will not
always work in the right way of themselves. The eccentricities of goodness are quite as remarkable as those of genius.
The best of us need common sense; and, perhaps, no advantage which a year or two of careful training would secure for
a young governess, would be greater than that which would
teach her to make a right use of her virtues, as well as to
watch against and check her faults.
Yet more, that which creates a difficulty in admitting gov ernesses to a perfect intimacy in a family, is the fact that they
434 
THE TRAINING OF GOVERNESSES.
do not all bear the stamp of perfect good breeding. Some
have been accustomed only to second-rate society.   Some
have been neglected at home; some educated at large schools,
where there has been no opportunity of acquiring the little re finements which make familiarity safe and pleasant. A young
girl, under these circumstances, does not perhaps understand
the difference between ease of manners and freedom.   She is
apt, unconsciously, to take liberties, and by little unintentional
awkwardnesses, or neglect of-the conventionalities of the world,
to give offence.   For it is not the question of birth which
makes a person lady-like, or renders it pleasant to live with
her. It is education in the little niceties of social life, joined
with a habit of thoughtfulness and self-control.   Both are
equally necessary.
How vulgar polished ladies and gentlemen can be, we have
all probably known by experience, when we have seen them
thrown off their guard, and giving way to intemperate passion.
But we do not always consider that neglect of the little etiquettes of social life will jar and fret every day, whilst the
storms of passion may never be heard. Very careful, anxious
mothers will let their little girls acquire habits which are inadmissible in society, and think they are doing them no injury,
so long as they instil good principles into their minds. But
when the little girls become the young governesses, and do
what they have been accustomed to do from childhood, they
are pronounced vulgar, and tabooed.
Now, the training under a thoroughly refined well-bred woman, accustomed to notice and check all these little neglects,
would be of untold value to a young girl before entering upon
the office of a governess. It would tend to give her the ease
and self-possession which will set the persons she is to live with
at ease also.   The stiff propriety, the crinoline of manner,
which destroys all grace, and inflicts a blow upon those who
come in contact with it, is, in nine cases out of ten, the result 
of a self-conscious shyness, based upon ignorance. Persons
who are afraid of doing or saying something which should not
435 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
be said or done, have no refuge but in stiffness; for if once
they leave this shelter, they feel that they are in danger of giving offence.   And unconscious offence is given perpetually.
The young governess perhaps appears late at the dinner-table,
and makes no apology; or she reads her letters without begging
to be excused for doing so; or she rings the bell because she feels
herself at home; or she whispers in company; or yields to some
feeling of curiosity; or thrusts herself uncalled for into conversation; and the fastidious lady of the house draws back, and
decides that she is ill-bred, and chills her with distant politeness, and so makes her wretched. Perhaps the lady is not to
be blamed, but the governess is certainly to be pitied. She
cannot know what she has never been taught.
These small matters, how great they are in their effect
upon life! and how essential would be the advantage which a
young girl would receive if she could be toned as well as
taught-fitted for the drawing-room as well as prepared for
the schoolroom, before she undertook to educate!
And if the happiness of the governess herself is to be considered, we can scarcely overestimate the support which many
an otherwise friendless girl would receive from the feeling that
her course was watched by friends of position and influence,
who were willing to advise her in a difficulty, to sympathize
with her in trouble, to restore to her, in fact, though necessarily in an inferior degree, the guardianship of the home which
she had lost. How many desolate hearts would be cheered,
how many saved from shipwreck on the rocks and quicksands
of a perilous life, if only they could feel that they belonged, as
it were, to those whom the world respected, and were responsible to them for their conduct!
And yet again the thought arises, is not the idea Utopian?
Even supposing that such a home as has been suggested
were to be set on foot, and to be found to work well. how very
little it could do! A dozen governesses might perhaps be sent
forth from it annually. That is reckoning upon rather a large
number, and a complete success. What can twelve good gov ernesses do towards raising the tone of education in England?
436 
THIE TRAINING OF GOVERNESSES.
The answer to this is-Try.
We are looking at the acorn, so little that it would seem
impossible it should ever become an oak. Yet if it is fashioned by God's Providence, in obedience to His law, it will
undoubtedly germinate and spread. And the moment it does
spread, even in a small circle, its influence must be felt in
those beyond.   Let one such home work well, and others
would follow; and though the number of persons so educated
and trained might always be few in comparison, yet we may
not therefore decide that their influence would be slight. Few
of us perhaps ever realize to ourselves how the existence of
a recognized upper class in any society affects the tone of the
whole. We see it in the working of social distinctions. The
manners of a colony are unlike those of England because,
where all believe that they stand on the same level, there is
no need for outward deference. That which tends more than
anything else to keep up the external refinement of the professional classes in England is the existence of a class above
them, with whom they are constantly mingling; and who,
from the fact of their position, are accustomed to dictate certain laws for the conduct of society, which all who desire to
be admitted to their circle on terms of equality are compelled
to observe.
An acknowledged standard of good breeding insensibly
affects the whole community. So again, and in a much more
important way, the influence of university education tells upon
the thousands who carry on their studies elsewhere. According as the standard of the university is high or low, so will be
that of public schools; and by the standard of public schools,
private schools are compelled to measure themselves.
And in these instances, as in many others of a like kind, it
will be found that influence, when directly exercised, is restricted to a few persons. We talk of the will of the people,
the power of the people; we say that numbers must alwaysgain the day. And we are right so far as this, that the will
of numbers will always be the most effective instrument which
437 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
can be used for the carrying out of any purpose. But we shall
find, upon inquiry, that the will of the many has in all cases
been first moved by that of the few, and that even when aroused,
it can never work until its force is concentrated in the hands of
a few.
The Reformation changed the current of religious thought
throughout all Christendom; it was essentially the will and the
mind of the many;-but we can count up the number of the
leading reformers on our fingers.
There is, therefore, no reason for distrusting the result of
any plan because it must begin upon a small scale, and act
only upon a few persons.  It is the spirit in which an undertaking is commenced that permeates society. The form under
which it may first develop itself may be imperfect, it may even
fade and die, and yet it may leave a seed which will eventually
spring up and bear fruit. If the educational movement for
the improvement of female education in England could be led
by a few persons of sufficient position, talent, high principle,
and good sense, to impress upon it their own stamp; if it
could be home training under their own eye, which should accustom the young girls placed under their charge to the refinements of really good society, whilst at the same time they enjoyed the advantages of good instruction; it would ensure to
the governesses who were sent forth a distinction which, it
would seem, could not fail to raise them in the social scale.
Supported by the friendship and guardianship of such persons,
a young girl could scarcely be open to the neglect which is met
with by the unknown penniless orphan. And when once this
rise was acknowledged, parents in the more polished ranks of
society would not be so unwilling to allow their daughters to
undertake educational duties, and the daughters would cease
to look upon it as a hardship. The few would then become
the standard for-the many, and ultimately, it might be hoped,
the leaven would make its way through all grades..
The work would, indeed, be very slow; for a long time it
would scarcely be recognized; but perhaps, in the end, it would
438 
THE TRAINING OF GOVERNESSES.
be surer than a more extensive movement which would meet
only the intellectual needs of the day, and must leave those belonging to the moral and social relations untouched.
Yet once more it may be objected;-this scheme for raising the standard of governesses can never really operate to any
extent, so long as crowds of ill-bred, half-educated young people are pressing into the service, whose only object is to raise
themselves from an inferior position, and who undertake to be
governesses merely because they think it more " genteel" than
to serve in a shop or become lady's maids.
This is very true. But there are two answers to be made
to this objection.
In the first place, the very fact of the crowds who seek to
be governesses must tend eventually, and is tending even now,
to diminish the number. People are opening their eyes to the
fact that the profession is overstocked and ill-paid; and the
movement made for the employment of women in other ways
-though there are enormous difficulties in its path-must
ultimately remove into other spheres those who, either from
incapacity or want of education, are not fitted to undertake
the task of instruction. In the second place, it must be remembered, that there will always be a large class who, from
not being refined and fastidious themselves, will be insensible
to the defects of others. A second-rate class of governesses
will always exist, because there will always be second-rate
persons to employ them. The efforts which are made to
improve the mental cultivation of the middle classes will, no
doubt, in a degree, render them more fit to be teachers; and
the fact that when they become governesses they are rising in
the world, instead of falling, creates an immense distinction
between them and the young girl born in a higher grade, and
suddenly compelled to take what is called a " situation." They
do not want sympathy and commiseration, however much
they may guidance. 
The need at present under consideration is, that' ladies"
should be educated by " ladies; " and the fact to which none
439 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATIO.
of us can shut our eyes is, that very few ladies are competent
to the task; and that if they are, they look upon it as a descent, just as much as the persons beneath them look upon it
as an advance in the social scale. Whilst this is the case, the
idea of raising the tone of English education in the upper ranks
of society is hopeless.
What should we think of the provision made for the education of English boys, hereafter to be English gentlemen, if the
only instructors that could be found for them in their youth were
either men who, without having had any previous training, were
compelled to enter the profession by the pressure of poverty;
or persons who undertook the task because they thought that a
tutor was a greater man than a clerk in a counting-house?
That which makes an English gentleman what he is, is the
respect accorded to those who devote themselves to his education. If we were to lower the social status of the men who
work in our public schools, or of the clergymen who take
private pupils, we should instantly find that an intellectually
inferior class would take their place; and the whole tone of
English society would be affected by the change.
But what is to be done with the refined, carefully nurtured,
but unintellectual " ladies," who are quite incompetent to teach,
and yet must labour for their livelihood?
That is a very large question. Society is working out the
answer; slowly, at the risk of much suffering from the delay,
and as yet without any prospect of meeting it satisfactorily.
Perhaps in this narrow, exclusive England, the slave of
fashion and conventionalities, we have yet to learn that work
under any form is noble. The time may come when we
shall admit to our social circle the friend who, being poor, undertakes to make our dresses, as we should, if, from the same
necessity, she professed to fulfil a duty which she could not
perform, and became a governess. So also the religious world
(taking the expression in its best sense) may by and by reognize that a woman is not always to be expected to give up
time and health, and the brightest years of life, to work in
440 
THE TRAINING OF GOVERNESSES.
penitentiaries, and reformatories, and schools, and amongst
the most degraded and repulsive of our overgrown population,
without some offer of remuneration.
Even an apostle could say, " Who goeth a warfare any
time at his own charges?.... who feedeth a flock, and eateth not of the milk of the flock?" 1
They who can give money as well as time to these duties are
the happy few. But must the work be necessarily less efficacious or acceptable when undertaken in a Christian spirit by
one who sees in it a profession by which she is to support herself? Then is the virtue of a clergyman's work negatived in
proportion to the temporal advantages he derives from it!
But if a bishop can be saintly with five thousand pounds a
year, and a rector with five hundred, would it be impossible
for a deaconess to be saintly with fifty? It is true that women
delight in self-sacrifice, and that the educated classes are so
little accustomed to the idea of remuneration for any duties
they undertake, that many would shrink from it as from insult.
But if God tells them, by the events of His Providence, that
they cannot live unless they will work for remuneration, then
to set themselves against such work is simply pride and rebellion; and the more Christian in spirit a woman is, the more
simply, humbly, and naturally will she accept the idea of working for money, where others work for love.
A lady, not in the least fitted to teach, might make an
admirable deaconess; but, in the present state of things, she is
compelled to undertake what she cannot do, and to give up
what she can, because in the one situation she can live, and in
the other she must starve.
The suggestions made in this chapter are merely theoretical, they can have no real value until tested, and they may be
found wholly unpractical. But when great and crying evils,
like those of the inefficiency of governesses, and the non-employment of women, are acknowledged to exist, the very.fact of
' 1 Cor. ix. 7.
441 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
being able to do nothing is a temptation to think the more.
And even when ideas are in themselves useless, the very arguments which are used to refute, often tend to lead other minds
in the same direction, so that ultimately, the solution of the
problem is worked out.
442 
CHAPTER XXXII.
INSTRUCTION.
TuHs then, it will perhaps be said, is all which can be suggested to assist governesses in fulfilling a task for which it is
asserted that the greater number are incompetent;-they are
told to look upon themselves as having a very important duty
to perform, and to content themselves with the dignity thus
conferred upon them of working directly for God! But if
they are unfitted for their task, there can be no great satisfaction in undertaking it. Can no practical advice be given
them? Can they not be instructed how they should teach;
what books they should use; how they may best arouse their
pupils' energies; under what form information may be given,
so as to be most permanently useful? Certainly, this kind of
advice would be most helpful, most valuable. Many persons
have already attempted it, and yet no one has really succeeded
in offering it in a satisfactory form. And, perhaps, for this
reason-that no person is thoroughly capable of doing it.
Principles are eternal, and therefore applicable to all ages,
and all circumstances. Rules vary according to every phase in
which the kaleidoscope of human society presents itself to us.
The kind of teaching which is very effective in one case, will
be the reverse in another. The books which are recommended
to us to-day, will be superseded by others to-morrow. The
system which is admirable on paper, when there are no obstacles to interfere with it, is found to be impracticable when an 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
attempt is made to carry it out amid the interruptions of domestic life.
And this, perhaps, is likely to be one of the great defects
of a regularly trained governess, who removes from the schoolroom in which she is a pupil, to that in which she is a mistress, without having had any intermediate experience. She
has a system, a bed of Procrustes, and she imagines that by
compelling children to fit themselves to it, they will necessarily
become all that she desires. Therefore she goes through a
certain course of study, makes them repeat certain lessons, and
read certain histories, and never suspects that whilst some will
come forth from her training well iniformed, others will remain,
as they originally were, buried in ignorance.
And besides this, it must be remembered that no one person can really be expected to give advice upon all subjects connected with instruction. Each individual has his or her own
province. If we wish to learn how we may the most easily
teach a child of four years old its letters, we shall probably do
well to apply to an infant schoolmistress. Arithmetic also is,
as a rule, better taught in a boys' national school than in any
private schoolroom.
French and German masters will know more about their
own languages, and the best method of imparting them, than
any English person can do. A professor of history will give
us a valuable list of historical books; a clergyman will tell us
about catechizing and scriptural instruction. But when any
single individual undertakes to teach all these things, or to
give advice about them, we may be quite sure that the teaching and the advice will be not the best we could receive; but
only that secondary guidance, the result of experience,-gained
as much through failure as success,-which, though it may be
very well when suggested in conversation between friends, is
not at all fitted to be put forth to the world  dogmatically.
Looking at governesses as they are now-for the most part untrained, unprepared for their work of instruction-that which
is most essential is that they should put their hearts into the
444 
INSTRUCTION.
duty committed to them, use their intellects to watch the effect
of their plans, and not change those plans suddenly, even if
they find that they fail to work quite successfully; for frequent
change is a confession of weakness, and unsettles a child's
mind.
And if, above and beyond the desire for their pupils' mental cultivation, there is a heartfelt desire for their moral and
religious improvement, many a question will be at once answered which, though it may appear only to concern instruction, is in reality connected with education.
There is no royal road to learning; because God has appointed that, through the medium of learning, children should
be trained in goodness, in obedience, energy, self-disciplinethe qualities which are to fit them to be the soldiers of Christ
in the great battle of the universe-the contest between good
and evil.
To attempt, therefore, to cheat children into learning is to
defeat the very purpose for which the task of ]earning is imposed upon them. It is of the sick child that the poet says
Cosi all' egro fanciul porgiamo aspersi
Di soave licor, gli orli del vaso;
Succhi amari inganniato, intanto ei beve,
E dall' inganno suo vita riceve.
The child in health, who is accustomed to accept the bitter
only under the form of the sweet, receives not benefit, but injury. Perhaps the safest of all maxims for the training of a
child of four years old is-that lessons should be lessons, and
play should be play.  The little creature who is sent to the
nursery to have her hair brushed and her hands washed, and is
then brought down to the schoolroom, and made to sit quite
still, and attend to her tiny lessons, if only for ten minutes, has,
through that rather troublesome process, learnt what  is as
much more important than reading and spelling, as moral
training is than mere information. If she could have learnt ten
times as much by scrambling on the floor, in a dirty pinafore,
445 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
and playing with pictures, she would still have been the loser.
What is the power of distinguishing A from B compared with
obedience, reverence, self-restraint, the habit of attention?-all
of which are enforced by the mere fact of being prepared each
day at a certain hour for a regular lesson, and being compelled
to go through it carefully.
So again, people ask, why be so particular in making little
children say their lessons perfectly? If they know what they
have learnt, if they give the sense in other words, why is not
that sufficient? The answer is as before, moral rather than
intellectual. Because the sense can be acquired easily, the
precise words only with difficulty; because exactness in repetition involves carefulness; because it is a check upon that
habit of hastily catching up words which is the bane of so
many through their whole lives; because, moreover, it counteracts the tendency to be contented with something short of perfection, which is a most common temptation with us all. Who
does not know what it is to strive to a certain point, and then
fall short, from the feeling that there is not strength for one
effort more? A lesson perfectly repeated must have required a
moral effort, and it is that which is the real benefit. Though
it may also be remarked that the moral powers are never
strengthened without a gain also on the part of the intellectual;
and that the lesson learnt according to the words of the book
will, from the very effort it has cost, be remembered, when
that which has been put into the child's own words will be forgotten. It is the fashion sometimes to depreciate the exercise
of memory as being merely mechanical; but any one who has
had to deal with young persons whose memory has been neglected will feel what an incalculable loss theirs is, and what
an obstacle to their improvement in higher ways. Memory is
indeed simply the act of heaping up treasures, not the power of
making use of them; but if there are no treasures to use, the
power becomes comparatively valueless. This does not, of
course, imply that the mere perfect repetition of. a forif of
words is sufficient, without any comprehension or explanation
446 
INSTRUCTION.
of the sense; but merely that it should be the groundwork for
explanation, and that the comprehension without it should not
be accepted as sufficient.
We may sometimes be inclined to wonder how it was that
in former days, when so much less pains were taken to open
children's minds and to make them understand what they
learnt, there should still have been such powerful and cultivated intellects in the world. The fact may probably be traced
to the moral force which, in curious contrast to the paucity of
the intellectual instruction, was in those days often exhibited,
even under the form of prejudice and severity. We may, perhaps, have known cases ourselves in which the actual amount
of information acquired under the strict discipline of an oldfashioned school, has been so small as to be almost absurd;
and yet, looking back, we may perceive that the energy and
self-discipline which were exerted to learn that little well, will
have been, even intellectually, of such vast use in life, that the
question of how much was actually learnt in childhood has become comparatively of no importance.
Repetition of some lessons, till they are known so that they
are never forgotten, is another old-fashioned custom which has
a moral benefit concealed beneath it. It creates a feeling of
stability and permanence, and gives a sense of possession which
is actual strength.
Any one fact which we know quite perfectly, and which
we feel that we cannot forget, is a mental possession, valuable
as the first treasure in the formation of a cabinet of curiosities.
It may be made the germ of a collection of facts.
A child who can repeat perfectly the dates of the English
kings is possessed of the nucleus of historical knowledge; and
children unconsciously feel this. The power of arranging and
comparing the historical events which they meet with in books
depends upon having some certain event to fall back upon.
When they find they have these facts thoroughly established il
their minds they take a pleasure in making use of them. In
this way an interest in history is awakened which might have
447 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
lain dormant for ever if the information acquired had been left
in the brain in a state of confusion. And an interest in history
is a moral as well as an intellectual benefit, because it widens
the sphere of sympathy, enlarges the mind, and is a safeguard
against the temptations of trashy literature. But apart from
this, to know or do anything well is an advantage, especially
for weak timid characters. If a little girl, for instance, develops no taste for accomplishments, and is so dull that she cannot be made to study, yet if she can work well with her needle,
and the talent is cultivated, so that she is aware she is worth
something, and has a power which others possess in a less degree, her whole moral being will be raised by the involuntary
self-respect thus engendered. What we thoroughly understand
we can speak of with decision and firmness; and the habit of
decision in one case accustoms us to it in others.
But all this exactness and mechanical labour in acquisition,
of which we have been speaking, must, if we are to make it endurable, begin early. The analogy between mental and moral
training is very close. Little children will bear routine lessons just as they will bear strictness in discipline. It can be
exercised on a small scale, and they will become accustomed
to it insensibly. But if carried on too long, it will stunt them
mentally, just as too rigid a restraint in conduct will stunt
them morally.
Let a foundation of obedience and self-discipline be laid in
early childhood, and freedom may be given in youth; and so
also, make a child exact and perfect in its lessons when instruction begins; and, as time goes on, the habit of exact repetition may be, in a great measure, laid aside. Yet not entirely,
even as obedience and external restraint may never wholly be
given up. The exercise of memory should always be continued in some form. For as years go on, and we find that
this faculty is weakened, we begin to appreciate its value, and
to wish that we had made more use of it. Poetry learnt-in
youth is an invaluable treasure for life. The Collects, and a
certain number of the Psalms, thoroughly acquired, will be a
448 
INSTRJUCTION.
comfort unspeakable in sickness and age. Texts of Scripture
are helps which we often actually long for, when ill or sorrowful ourselves, or when ministering to those who are suffering;
and if we have not learnt them quite perfectly when young, we
can never feel that they are ours, so as to make an easy use
of them afterwards.   Tell young people these things, give
them a reason for insisting upon the use of memory, and
being particular as to exactness, and they will acquiesce in the
tasks imposed upon them. What they do not acquiesce in, is
a routine of lessons to be repeated by rote, apparently for no
purpose. The memory cultivated systematically, and upon
principle, is one of the most important educational instruments we possess. It is a kind of mental savings bank, into
which we put our knowledge, with the certainty that, when
drawn out again in future years, we shall receive it with interest. For the events of life, and the growth of the moral
faculties, will increase, in some instances indefinitely, the
value of intellectual knowledge.   The twenty-third psalm
learnt as a Sunday lesson ini the schoolroom, and the same
psalm repeated in dying ears-how vast is the difference!
And yet but for the schoolroom lesson, the words might never
suggest themselves so readily and perfectly as to be a support
in such an hour of anguish and mental disturbance.
The whole value of early instruction, indeed, depends upon
the use which can be made of it in after years. An evident
truism, and yet singularly neglected, or misunderstood. For
if it were not, why should we perplex ourselves, as we do,
with discussions as to the comparative powers of boys and
girls? What does it signify whether or not a girl is capable
of the same mental work as her brothers? She is not meant
to be a man, but a woman, with a woman's duties; and the
best kind of education which can be given her, is that which
will most obviously fit her for those duties. Suppose that she
can understand political economy, and master the problems of,
Euclid; she will never sit in Parliament, or be a Cambridge
Professor. And she has lessons of her own to attend to, and
449 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
these things, except so far as they exercise the mental powers
(and in this respect they may, no doubt, be helpful), can, at
the best, only be adjuncts. She may learn them, they may be
useful to her, just as a boy may learn drawing or music, and
find such accomplisments profitable acquisitions; but even if
she had a decided talent for them, she could never devote sufficient time to them to enable her thoroughly to master them.
The very utmost that will ever be said of her is, " she is surprisingly learned for a woman."   The idea of making a boy's
attainments the standard by which to measure a girl's, is indeed
obviously unfair. To render the comparison equal, boys should
be required to play brilliantly on the piano, to sing well, to
dance gracefully, to draw cleverly and with facility, to be
skilled in every kind of needlework; for all these things are
more or less required of girls, in addition to their intellectual
acquirements; and they cannot be taught or learnt, unless time
is devoted to them; and time given to one branch of instruction is so much taken from another. Yet further, if there is
to be any fair competition between the two sexes, a girl must
have a boy's physical strength. It is very easy for studious
men, who have never had to deal with delicate girls, to suggest a course of instruction which shall bring them on a level
with their brothers. There is no doubt that girls can, up to a
certain point, be made to learn just as much, and as well, as
boys. Take a school of little boys and little girls, and compare
them, and the probability is that the latter will be found the
superior. There is a quickness, a kind of intuitive perception
about them, in which boys are wanting. They develop at an
earlier age, and more rapidly. But take those same boys and
girls at seventeen and eighteen, and the boy will have advanced far beyond the girl. Even in those things which he does
not know, he will show a power of ready acquirement, in
which she will be wanting. Not one girl in a hundred would
be able to work up the subjects required for an Indian Civil
Service Examination, in the way which boys do. And for
one very obvious reason, putting aside all others. Her health
450
I 
INSTRUCTION.
would break down under the effort. And health is the obstacle,
which, even under the most favourable circumstances, must
stand in the way of a girl's acquiring the intellectual strength,
which, at this age, is so invaluable to a boy. He has been
tossed about the world, left in a great measure to his own resources, and been inured to constant physical exertion. He
has been riding, and boating, and playing cricket, and both
body and mind have been roused to energy; and so, when he
comes to study, he has a sense of power, which acts mentally
as well as physically, and enables him to grasp difficulties, and
master them. The girl, on the contrary, has been guarded
from over fatigue, subject to restrictions with regard to cold,
and heat, and hours of study, seldom trusted away from home,
allowed only a small share of responsibility;-not willingly,
with any wish to thwart her inclinations-but simply because,
if she is not thus guarded, if she is allowed to run the risks,
which, to the boy, are a matter of indifference, she will probably
develop some disease, which, if not fatal, will, at any rate, be
an injury to her for life.
This question of health must be a primary consideration
with all persons who undertake to educate girls. It will be a
perpetual interruption to their plans for study and mental
improvement, but it is one which can never be put aside.
Parents in private, and the intellectual world in public, will
demand that girls should be brought forward, and taught all
that an age which makes intellect its idol thinks fit to require,
and the attempt to satisfy them must be met in one of two
ways. Either by the over mental exertion which ends in a
break-up of health, or by a superficial intellectual show which
resembles actual knowledge and moral power only as the
veneered table resembles solid wood.
Any strain upon a girl's intellect is to be dreaded, and any
attempt to bring women into competition with men can scarcely
escape failure. And if this be so, and if, as has before beensaid, the value of a girl's acquirements can best be measured
by a girl's necessities, by the needs of her after-life, then it is
451 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
probable that women will know better than men what those
needs are, and will therefore prove more suitable instructors.
And yet an exception must, under certain limitations, be made
to this assertion.
It will generally be found that a father's instruction, supposing him, of course, to be a man of intellect, is far more
advantageous to a girl mentally than that of the very best governess she could have. There will be a peculiarity about it, a
certain one-sidedness, some necessary things will be neglected,
which must be acquired in after years; but under such teaching the mind does gain a largeness and strength which are
too often wanting under that of a woman.
Does the fact bring us to a different general conclusion
from that which we arrived at before?
It would seem not.
In the case under consideration, the instructor is a father,
and a father is less liable to the temptation to overwork his
child, or to expect too much of her; so that under his care
health is not likely to be sacrificed.  By taking the education
of his daughter into his own hands, he gives up the peculiarly
feminine accomplishments. He makes her perhaps a firstrate historian, an excellent linguist, and a cautious thinker. But
music, drawing, needlework, are considered secondary. Experience shows him that young people cannot learn everything,
and he chooses the studies in which he desires his child to
excel, and is successful.   And  with good cause.   He  has
everything to aid him. Absolute authority, the reverence
which is naturally his due, the affection which makes it a
pleasure to work for him. And yet, after all, he feels that
there is something wanting, and after a time he sends his
daughter to school, to be under the influence of a person in
all probability greatly inferior to himself, because she needs a
woman's influence.
Well trained, well informed though she is, she is not feminine, and a woman who is not feminine is a monster in creation.
452 
INSTRUCTION.
Under the very best circumstances, therefore, the teaching of a man is not, as it would appear, all that a girl requires.
But if women could discover the secret of the power which,
in the case under consideration, is wielded by a father, they
might perhaps do something towards acquiring it themselves.
A clever man-one who has thought as well as studiedwill almost always make his knowledge tell more than a woman,
from the fact that he has mixed more in the world, and, therefore, knows better how to turn his information to account by
bringing it to bear upon the present day.  He  has seen more,
noted and compared more, and his interests are on a larger
scale. If he reads ancient history, for instance, it is not simply as a record of the past, but as an influence which has come
down to modern times. If he reads modern history, he connects it with the politics of his own period. Facts are to him
not mere facts, but the materias for thought. And thus it is,
that whilst he is instructing his child by reading with her, he
is educating her by talking with her; whereas, a governess will,
too often, be contented with the former, and quite put aside the
latter. The father is, himself, interested in the subject of study,
and he communicates his interest to his child; and the governess, if she is to compete with him, must do the same.
To teach well, we must be learning at the same time. There
must be a feeling of sympathy between the instructor and the
scholar, based upon the fact that both are travelling upon the
same road, only that one has advanced rather further than the
other. It is in this way that a young governess, though conscious
of her own deficiencies, may hopefully undertake the task of education. If she will only study with her pupil, as well as teach
her, she will, perhaps, in the end, do quite as much towards
forming the mind as a person of distinguished attainments
could.
Governesses are sometimes afraid of confessing themselves.
ignorant upon any point. They think that if they do they will
lose their pupils' respect; and so they have recourse to little
453
-1 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
subterfuges which a child's quick eye will almost invariably
discover. An exercise, for instance, will be corrected by the
aid of a key, only the key must not be seen.  Yet when such
assistance is openly acknowledged, it will be found that the
child receives it as a matter of course, without any surprise;
and the only thing the governess has then to guard against is
putting the book in her pupil's way, so as to be a temnptation.
This does not require any mystery or locking up, but merely
keeping it apart from other school books. The child's sense
of honour must be trusted for everything beyond this. There
are very few cases in which it will be found to fail; if it should,
it is far better that such a tendency should be discovered and
corrected, than left to work out its fatal course in after life.
Truth, sincerity! there is, in fact, no other foundation for
good education.
And even apart from this consideration, acknowledgment
of ignorance or doubt need not necessarily be injurious. To
say to a child, "I do not know such a thing, but I will find it
out;" and to set the example of searching, and not being contented until the point in dispute is discovered; is a lesson tenfold more important to a young girl's mind than any fact or
series of facts can possibly be. It is setting before her what
she must be resolved to do in after life, if she is ever to be
really well informed. For the truth, which all persons who are
interested in female education must, sooner or later, acknowledge, is, that at the age at which girls are taken from the
schoolroom, and introduced into the world, their education, instead of being completed, has only just, to any real purpose,
begun; and that if they have not the energy and good sense to
carry it on for themselves, in spite of all the interruptions which
throng them, they must eventually forget one-half of what they
have learnt, and be incapable of making any satisfactory use of
the other half.
Again, we must place the boy of eighteen and the girl of
the same age side by side, and inquire in what light society regards them.
454 
INSTRUCTION.
The boy of eighteen is only just beginning his college career. He is not yet fit for any profession; he has several
years of hard study to go through before he can be a clergyman,
a physician, a barrister, before, in fact, he can ordinarily undertake any independent responsible position. What he knows
now is the foundation for what he is to know and carry out
hereafter.
The girl of eighteen is ready to be married, to become the
mistress of a household, to control servants, to bring up children, to take a definite place in society. All that she has learnt
in the schoolroom, instead of being improved and made useful,
may now be put aside. She isfinished. So much history, so
much geography, so many dates, so much arithmetic acquired;
and to be laid by, like jewels in a box, to be taken out when
wanted. Being finished, of course she has enough. If she
should happen to have a taste for these things, she may collect
more at leisure; but there is no real necessity for it. When
married to the world (as how many young girls are married to
it-pledged to" love, honour, and obey" it!) she was provided
with her intellectual trousseau, and it will last her for some
years at least; and when it is worn out she will be able to replace it by that knowledge of life, that savoirfaire which covers
a mine o ignorance.
False! utterly false!  And yet, if a girl is taught to look
upon the day when she leaves the schoolroom as the day of
emancipation, how can she think otherwise? It is not she who
is to blame, but the parents and teachers-the former, perhaps,
more than the latter. For any governess who is worthy the
name, and really has her pupils' interests at heart, will sigh
over the shortcomings which she has no time to remedy; and
urge, with an earnestness which will probably meet with very
little sympathy, that education is a condition of life, and that the
years spent in the schoolroom have been but its first stage; that
information is nothing, and cultivation of the mind everything;
and that, next to religious principle, there is no moral safeguard equal to that of a steady determination, if possible, to
455 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUICATION.
let no day pass without having done something towards such
cultivation.
And the mother will agree to all this in theory. But how
is it too often in practice? The world's joys are dangled before the young daughter's imagination as the glittering bauble
is dangled before the eyes of an infant. To be introduced into
society-or, as it is called, to " come out; "-to be presented
at Court, perhaps, and enjoy the rush of a London season; and
eventually to be married to a man of rank, wealth, and-of
course, if possible!-of high character, these are the things 
hinted at-produced, as it were, like choice treasures, tempting morsels, to stimulate the worldly appetite.  In preparation
for these delights, there must necessarily be accomplishments,
music especially. It is the one grand desideratum, for music
is showy-every one talks of and notices a girl who plays and
sings beautifully; and therefore before everything else so
many hours a day must be devoted to music. French, too,
is quite necessary, though unfortunately it is very seldom
thoroughly acquired without a residence abroad; and as the
world is rather linguistic-mad at this time, German, too, must
be learnt. But thoroughness in German is not requisite. To
be able to ask for what is needed at a German table d'hdte is
sufficient to enable a girl to say she knows German, and the
saying is all which is required. Italian, too, is desirable-it is
such a graceful, sweet-sounding language; but here again it is
the appearance which is of importance. The world does not
exactly expect Italian, though it looks favourably upon it. If
the words of an Italian song can be pronounced it is satisfied,
whether they are understood or not. But the world is literary
and scientific, as well as accomplished; and therefore into the
interstices left by the accomplishme nts are to be inserted all
those duller, less showy acquirements, which, like the literary padding of a review, serve to fill out the educational
volume to its fitting size. Still, like the accomplishments, they
are not to be valued for themselves, but only for the effect they
may produce; and as they will be required for immediate use
456 
ISTRUCTIO        N4.
when the young lady is "introduced," they must be got up for
the occasion, at the shortest notice, and on the most approved
fashion.
Very hard work all this requires; but then it is only for a
short time. A year or two more, and then it will all be over!
The fortune will be made, and nothing more will be required
but to spend it-or rather to invest it to the greatest profit.
The dear children are urged to be diligent-to make the best
use of their time; they are assured they will have no more
such opportunities; and if dispirited by the strain put upon
them, they are sympathized with.  "Lessons are very trying
and discipline is detestable, and they must exert all their high
principle to bear with it." And so the children do bear with
it, as the ox submits to the yoke, and the horse to the halter;
but they never cease to feel that it is a yoke, and to sigh for
the day when they are to be freed from it. And the governesses feel the yoke too. Accomplishments and information
are expected to be ready by a certain hour, and if they cannot
produce the reality, they must at least be prepared with a well
got-up sham. They cannot consult the tastes or powers of
their pupils, because that hardest of all tyrants, the world, insists that young girls shall know certain things, or else they
shall not be accepted as well educated. Perhaps at the present
moment it is in vain to endeavour to stem the tide. It may be
better to sail with it. Parents will not be contented unless
there is something to show in their children's education; and
though they expect them to learn a great deal more than it is
possible to learn thoroughly in the time given, there is no alternative but to follow out their wishes. The various acquirements must be attempted, and the only thing to be done is to
point out to the children, and to urge upon them, with all possible earnestness, that school-time is only seed-time; and, as
has been said before, if they do not carry on their own education when they leave the schoolroom, the seed will never.
spring up and bear fruit.
If this idea can be thoroughly rooted in their minds, the
20
457 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
fact of beginning so many studies may even be turned to good.
For to know the first steps of any science or language will
often lead to its being pursued; whereas if those steps had
never been taken, the study would never have been attempted.
In like manner, a little music, and a little drawing, though
very unsatisfactory to persons who wish to make a show with
them, may be invaluable as resources to the individual. It is
not the small amount of any knowledge, or the absence of
facility in an accomplishment, which is to be lamented, but
the looking upon the labour of learning as completed when it
is only just begun.
And if governesses will only bear this in mind, and act
upon the idea that their business is less to educate their pupils,
than to lead them to educate themselves, they will be saved
much of the vexation which must arise from the sense of the
incompleteness of their work. In some few cases a governess
has the training of a child from infancy, and is able fully to
pursue her own plans, but this is very rarely the case. As a
general rule, a child has, from various circumstances, several
governesses, and each can only carry out her own ideas, whatever they may be, to a certain point. So it will happen continually that the actual amount of instruction which any one
individual is able to give, will be provokingly small; but if she
has been able to awaken interest in the subject taught, she has
conferred on her pupil a very great benefit, and the deficient
information will be supplied in after years. Conversation
upon the subjects of the lessons is one of the surest modes of
awakening interest, and it is in this way that much is lost by
the numbers who congregate at the dinner-table in a large
school, and are compelled when they speak to express themselves in a foreign tongue. The restriction may be a very
necessary safeguard against the tumult which would ensue if
twenty or thirty girls were allowed to chatter indiscriminately;
and it may teach them the French or German for mutton and
beef; but free discussion of some subject which has been suggested during the morning's study, when carried out by  a
458 
INSTRUOTION.
small party having the use of their mother-tongue, will do infinitely more for the improvement of the mind. It will show
to young people the use of their lessons, the value of conversation; it will make them appreciate the society of persons of
sense and information; and when they have once acquired a
taste for superior society, they will never sink down to the
level of the shallow, gossiping, slanderous world. Historical
questions are often quite exciting, when brought forward in
this way, and the foreign politics of the day may be a continual subject of interest.
Only one caution must be given. There must be no effort
in such conversation, no talking for effect. The young detest
this quite as much as their elders, perhaps more.
In order to make useful conversation agreeable, the person
who leads it must be really interested in it; and when this is
the case, a little ignorance on the part of the governess is often
no disadvantage, because it brings her down to a more sympathizing level, and enables her to show how knowledge may
be acquired.
Neither may it be forgotten that young persons-indeed all
persons-require complete definite relaxation just as much as
they do definite instruction; and the cultivation of a sense of
humour, and a refined perception of the ludicrous, can no
more be omitted as parts of good education than languages
and science. A sense of the ludicrous is in fact really necessary as a safeguard against unnumbered mistakes which persons fall into who have excellent intentions, but fail to perceive the fitness, and right proportion, and relation, of the
persons and things with which they are brought in contact.
To be able to take part in a light, merry, witty conversation,
and yet never to go beyond the bounds of reverence, kindness,
and propriety, is a gift which comparatively few persons possess, and it is certainly most heartily to be desired. If, making
no provision for this need, we think it necessary to be always
teaching, we shall end by dulling instead of sharpening our
pupils' intellects. And we can never remedy the deficiency
459 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
of real mirth and fun by dressing up information and calling it amusement. A very pleasant lesson is a very dreary
play.
With this view of arousing interest, and making lessons
pleasant, it may perhaps be advisable to take rather a less
rigid view of the course of study to be pursued, especially with
regard to history.  Certain main facts, and dates it has been
said, must be thoroughly impressed in the memory, as the
pegs on which to suspend others. If this is neglected, the
ground of the mind will be strewed with knowledge, important in itself, but, from the confusion in which it lies, almost
as useless as rubbish. These main facts ought to be acquired
in early childhood. But when this is past, it is often supposed
necessary to begin some standard work, consisting probably of
some four or five thick volumes.  Now any one who is at all
acquainted with the routine of a young girl's schoolroom life,
will know that months and months will be needed to go
through these volumes. So many other things are to be attended to, that it is quite impossible to give up more than a
small portion of the day, and that probably not every day, to
this special book. For there are other histories to be studiedGreece and Rome, Egypt and Assyria-the whole of modern
Europe in general, and the principal countries in detail. Few
girls of fourteen and fifteen know more than the merest shadowy outline of universal history; and if they are intelligent
and interested in their studies, they are eager to know more.
And thus the lengthy work, though it may be in itself clever
and interesting, becomes irksome. The thread of the history
is too often interrupted, and it is drawn out to too great a
length. The young people wish to finish the book, merely in
order that they may say they have read it. And if, as is very
often the case in schools, the whole period of a pupil's residence is but a year, or a year and a half, it is evident that in
this way nothing like a real interest in history generally is
likely to be awakened. The impression left upon the mind is
that of dulness; and when emancipated from the schoolroom,
460 
IN\STRUCTION.
history will very likely be put aside. But if the study of his tory could be brought before the mind in shorter portions,
and, with the help of extracts from standard writers, be made
to embrace larger interests, a different result might be ex pected. 1
Such discursive reading as this will not enable a young
girl to give a satisfactory answer to the question, What have
you read? or, what are you reading?  Should such an inquiry
be made, she would probably reply, " We read bits of different
books just as it happens," and the answer might sound unsat isfactory; but there is very little doubt that the interest in
these historical subjects, awakened by such varied and contemporary reading, would be tenfold greater than if the history of any one nation had been read for months, through
the medium of five or six thick octavo volumes; and by degrees, as the mind enlarged, those deeper and more philosophical writers would be read with an appreciation which would
be utterly impossible, if they had made part of the schoolroom
routine.
1 An illustration of what is meant may be given from books taken at
random. The History of England must, to an/Englishman, be the thread
on which he is to string the history of other countries. Some School Compendium may be taken, and the life of William the Conqueror read; this
will be an introduction to Lanfranc and his Life in Dr. Hook's " Lives of the
Archbishops;" and this again will lead to the eventful history of Gregory
the Seventh, which will be found in a most fascinating form in Sir James
Stephen's Essays. If Dean Milman's "Latin Christianity" should be at
hand, most valuable extracts may also be made from it, though it is a work
too voluminous for the generality of young people, and which from its details it is not desirable to put into their own hands. From this will arise
the question of the settlement of the Normans in'Italy, of which a short
graphic account will be found in a regular school-book, Miss Yonge's
"Landmarks of History " (the Middle Ages), whilst still further light may be
thrown upon the period by the very interesting and most useful papers by the
same author, called "Cameos of History," which are to be met with in
the well-known periodical called The Monthly Packet; to say nothing
of Miss Strickland's "Lives of the Queens of England," which tell almost all that can be told of the domestic life and habits of English
Royalty.
461 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
It may, probably, be urged as an obstacle to this suggestion, that many persons have not the books they need at command; but if the principle is acknowledged, there will always
be some means of carrying it out.  If one author is not at
hand, another is. Even regular school books may be made
use of, so as to give variety and interest by reading contemporary reigns; whilst the best magazines and reviews often
contain essays of the greatest value upon historical subjects.
If a governess has it really at heart to interest her pupils, she
will be constantly picking up, as it were, suggestions as to
books, and poetry, and tales, which may be made useful; and
the variety of the authors bringing out their various views of
the events and the persons they describe, will give rise to conversation, not only agreeable and exciting, but which will
throw a light upon the children's characters, and be a material
help in the formation of their principles.
And so with regard to geography. A discussion upon the
foreign political events of the day will necessarily lead to
geographical questions. When all Europe interests itself in
the affairs of Italy, the map of modern Italy, as compared with
the Italy of the middle ages, becomes an engrossing study.
Or, again, when the probable fate of Denmark and SchleswigHolstein is a subject introduced into every drawing-room, the
map of Denmark and Germany becomes an object of almost
personal importance. There must, of course, be regular lessons independent of these episodes. Young people must know
what they have to do, and be made to do it; but it is by seizing upon the events transacting at the present moment, and
connecting them with the past, that interest is awakened; and
this, it must be repeated, is the great object of female instruction.
A boy requires a definite amount of information to enable
him to pass a certain examination. He may or may not afterwards follow up the subjects proposed. His path in ljfe is
marked out, and probably he will devote himself only to those
studies which bear upon it. But a woman's mind needs a more
462 
INSTRUCTION.
general cultivation. She is to be her husband's companion and
friend, to entertain his guests, to be sensible and agreeable, to
raise the tone of conversation; and she can onlybe and do all
this, by having that general acquaintance with history, geography, and science, which will enable her to draw out the knowledge that men possess.  A  woman who declaims, instructs,
or preaches in society, has forgotten her vocation, and is utterly
out of place; but when she makes use of her own sense and
information to make others talk well, her influence is of inestimable use.
Public and private lectures will also aid greatly in the general cultivation of mind of which we have been speaking; but
they will lose nearly all their value, unless a groundwork of
information has been previously laid, and pains are taken to
imprint the facts of the lecture upon the memory after it has
been heard. Private lectures should always be accompanied
with examination questions upon the subject that has been
treated of. It is singular how very little definite information
may be derived from oral instruction, even when a clear impression of its general purpose may be retained. At first this
impression will be taken for knowledge; but it will be found to
vanish too speedily to be worthy of the name, unless it is imprinted upon the memory by some personal mental effort. These
general suggestions, with regard to instruction considered apart
from education, are all which it seems needfill to give. The
materials with which, and upon which, a governess (especially
in a private family) is required to work, must vary continually,
and if bound down to a certain system, she will be entirely
thrown out by the loss of the instruments with which she has
been accustomed to work, and the variety of minds which she
is expected to influence. Experience and observation, especially
if aided by suggestions from persons who are well practised in
some peculiar branch of study, will do far more for a governess than any system; for they will show not all that can be
done with the best helps-books of reference, intellectual society, first-rate masters and mistresses for accomplishments;
463 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
but the good that may be obtained by just taking what is placed
within reach, and by personal energy and earnestness rousing
the young intellect, and exciting the interest, so that when
greater advantages are bestowed, greater profit may be derived
from them.
464 
CONCLUSION.
ALL that has been said, both upon education and instruction, has been founded upon the idea that governesses are
really putting their hearts into their duty, and not merely
going through it as a drudgery from which they are longing
to escape.
Whether this is the case or not, each must answer for herself. But, supposing it to be so. supposing the work to be
thus undertaken for God, and carried on with all the ability
which He has bestowed, what is the reward to be expected?
In the great majority of instances, more or less, Disappointment. It is better to own it: better to read the word
wvhich God has inscribed upon all human efforts. So far as
they are human, so far as their object is to be fulfilled in this
world, we shall never thoroughly attain that for which we
labour.
We set an ideal before our eyes; we work for it by day
and night; we bend all the powers of our mind to its completion; and God, in the ordering of His Providence, is constantly permitting thwarting influences to cross our path:
influences which seem to us, perhaps, unmitigated evil; which
check and harass us, and undo our work, and cut it short; and
at length it may be He takes it finally out of our hands, so that
we are not able to perceive that it has in any true sense been
work at all.
And why?
Surely, because the truth which the parent has to own in 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
the nursery is one which the governess has to recognize in the
schoolroom. As we begin, so we must continue, and end, by
acknowledging that God has a scheme of education beyond
ours,-a purpose, vast, unfathomable, hidden in the Mysteries
of the Universe; that He commands us to work for Him with
the materials which He gives us-that He points out by the
instrumentality of nature, reason, and revelation, what this
work is to be; but that He does not tell us the end which is
ultimately to be reached; and, therefore, when He takes from
us the materials with which we desire to labour, or changes our
occupation, or puts a stop to it, or even suffers it to appear
null and void, He is not really thwarting us, but only carrying
out this great hidden scheme by the means which, in His
Almighty Wisdom, He sees will most surely conduce to its
accomplishment.
We can never remind ourselves of this truth too frequently
or too earnestly.
God's Will is one thing, God's Purpose is another. We
obey God's Will when, in simple faith, we set ourselves "to
do our duty in that state of life to which He has called us."
Having done this, we may commit our efforts to Him and rest
satisfied. Successful or unsuccessful, as regards ourselves, it
matters not. Or rather we can never be unsuccessful. We
may fail in influence, we may see our most cherished hopes
shipwrecked, but the work done for God is accepted and stored
up by God. It will, hereafter, be acknowledged before angels
and men, and through the ages of Eternity the echo of those
blessed words of approbation, " Well done, good and faithful
servant," will ring as sweetly in the ear of him who on earth
missed his object, as in the ear of him who attained it.
But we are human; we grow weak without encouragement;
we are chilled at heart by constant failure. Is there not some
way by which we may secure to ourselves an earthly as well
as a heavenly reward? Undoubtedly there is; but the-first
thing to be done with this view is to guard against expectitng
too much.
466 
CONCLUSION.
We must remember that we cannot demand of the young
a consistency and earnestness which we have failed to acquire
ourselves. If, as we must all know, life has been to us a
school of severe discipline, and nevertheless we are still miserably faulty, it is folly to suppose that those who are only at
the beginning of their course can possibly be perfect. And
yet this is really the kind of expectation which very good people sometimes seem to cherish. They fret, and fume, and vex
themselves because they are obliged to repeat the same warning again and again; because words seem to make no impression; because the simplest, easiest commands are disobeyed.
It is very vexatious, extremely trying; but how is it between
themselves and God? What careless habits, petty faultsnegligence, inattention-not to speak of sins of graver chlaracter-has not God been warning them against for years; and
still they give way to them; and still He is patient. Our
Blessed Lord taught His disciples during the whole of His
ministerial life that His Kingdom was not of this world; and
yet, after being spectators of His Death and witnesses to His
Resurrection, they asked, " Lord, wilt Thou at this time restore the kingdom again to Israel?" We do not hear that He
was impatient with them for their question. He reminded
them, as He had done before, that it was not for them " to
know the times or the seasons which God had put into His
own power;" and then He cheered them by encouragement.
Patience and Hope! Nothing can be done in education
without these virtues. Youth is the seed-time, not the harvest. If we expect to reap in the seed-time, we must be
disappointed.
But it is also very important to be prepared for the sources
from which disappointment will be derived, and these it may
be as well, before concluding, to consider.
And first we must, in some form or other, inevitably be
disappointed in ourselves. The assertion seems almost a tru-,
ism, so willing are we all to acknowledge that it is impossible
to come up to our own ideal standard. And yet, strange to
467 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
say, moral deficiencies are not those which press the most
heavily upon persons who attempt, in earnest dependence upon
God's help, to educate the young. Whatever our faults may
be, a constant check is kept upon them when we know that we
are called upon to set an example. They who are really striving to walk in God's ways must be able, to a great extent, to
control the outward exhibitions of temper, pride, vanity, and
selfishness before the young. Reverence for a child is a strong
instinct in the human breast, and it is peculiarly cultivated by
the spirit of Christianity. If the one object of our lives is to
do our Lord's work on earth, we can never forget His awful
warning, " Whoso shall offend one of these little ones which
believe in Me, it were better for him that a millstone were
hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth
of the sea." 1 No doubt the lesser faults of hastiness, procrastination, unpunctuality, indolence, forgetfulness, or even involuntary coldness or absence of manner, will ocasionally fret
ourselves, and work injuriously for our pupils; but the remedy
for these defects lies, to a certain extent, in our own power.
Leaning upon God, and exerting our own will, we may hope
eventually to neutralize their effects, even if we do not succeed
in entirely overcoming them. But mental deficiencies are not
equally within our grasp, and the moment we test our acquirements by teaching we find how shallow they are. Natural
incapacity for certain branches of knowledge, carelessness in
earlier years, want of a sure foundation, absence of opportunities for instruction, have, in all probability, each or all, left
their mark upon us. If we can do a few things well, we do a
great many other things badly; if we know a little, we are
ignorant of much; and in the act of blaming our pupils, we
shall often be much more inclined to blame ourselves.
Notwithstanding this self-dissatisfaction, we may, however, be by no means actually incompetent teachers. Power
of mind, energy, the love of knowledge, and a determination
to seek for it, are the really efficacious instruments of instruc
1 St. Matt. xviii. 6.
468 
CONCLUSION.
tion. If we possess these, we shall manage to make more
use of our small knowledge, than a much better informed
person would, without them, make of his or her large know-ledge.
But the secret consciousness of the deficiency will continually be present with us; all the more if we happen to be
placed in a position of responsibility, and are supposed to
know, and to be able to do everything.
And the remedy for this evil can scarcely be said to be
within our reach. In the middle of life, and in the full tide
of work and anxiety, there is neither the time nor the spirit
necessary for much effective study. And even supposing the
contrary, there will, most frequently, be something wanting in
the faculties which are our instruments for acquiring knowledge.
If we omitted to learn the dates of the English kings when
we were ten, we shall scarcely be able to acquire them when
we are forty.  And, though we may find our matured intellect
very helpful when we wish to grasp the meaning of a German
sentence, we shall long for the clearness and exactitude of a
youthful memory, when we are called upon to master the German declensions.
It is the foundation which is so needful-and it is this
which can only be laid in youth.
Unimportant as such mental deficiencies may seem to those
who look on, the perception of them is very harassing when
we are actually engaged in teaching; and a morbid yielding to
regret on account of them, may be really paralyzing to our intellectual vigour. In such cases, the only thing to be done is
to accept our ignorance even as we do our poverty, and since
God has pointed out that it is our business to teach, to do the
best we can, and trust to His blessing upon the result.
But next to our own deficiencies, a great source of disappointment will be those of the persons who work with us.  For
scarcely any governess undertakes to educate entirely alone.
If she is in a private family, indeed, she may do so for some
469 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
years; but after that time masters will generally be called in
to assist her. But in a school, or even with a few private
pupils, this assistance must almost always be required. And
it will never be quite what is needed; often it will be much
the reverse; and we shall find our best plans upset simply because we cannot prevail upon others to do as we wish. And
one requirement will continually be sacrificed to another. It
will often be necessary to put up with the absence of talent for
the sake of good principle; or again, we may be compelled to
accept something which, if not bad, is at any rate inferior in
principle, for the sake of some particular talent. These things
are most vexatious. They act positively as well as negatively.
As a bad nurse will do injury in the nursery which the wisest
of mothers cannot undo, so it will be in the schoolroom. And
this is the reason why the moral tone of large schools is often
so unsatisfactory, notwithstanding the possible superiority of
the lady at the head. She is obliged to delegate her authority
to subordinates who are inferior, and as they are more constantly with the children, their influence necessarily acts in the
end more powerfully. And again, there is health, a most frequent trial and source of disappointment. We could do so
much more if we had only physical strength! If we could
rise earlier, and sit up later, and work more continuously, and
did not need so much relaxation! Persons who are entering
with anything like enthusiasm upon a career of usefulness
never sit down to consider the obstacles likely to arise from
their not having herculean powers. Perhaps it is as well they
should not, or they would probably never attempt to be useful
at all; and God will help them, and enable them often to do
more than they could possibly have calculated upon beforehand. But it is, nevertheless, desirable to remember generally, that interruptions from want of health and strength
must be expected; because we shall then be less troubled
when they arise, but shall look upon them as Providential
arrangements, pointing out God's Will for us, and reminding
4O 
CONCLUSION.
us that active duties are not the only ones which I-He demands
of us, but that "they also serve who stand and wait."
Again-there must frequently be very great disappointment from the varieties of character and intellect which are
subject to our influence. We use the same efforts for all, and,
at first, are apt to expect the same results. But we shall soon
find out our mistake, especially when we desire to improve the
mind and excite a taste for study.
We may make young people learn, but strive as we will
we cannot make them like learning. There are, indeed, many
persons, both young and old, by no means dull in intellect, to
whom reading is such a task that they will never undertake it
except as a duty. They pick up information in some singular
way of their own, but a book is a thing scarcely ever seen in
their hands. It is very disappointing to find that this apparent indifference to study is the end of our labours. It seems,
at first, that they have been thrown away, but we must remember that, after all, reading is only a means to'an end. If
the mind is awake to what is passing around it, and if right
principles are rooted in it, information will be acquired, and
usefuil work will be done, though it may not be in the way of
study. Young people who can scarcely be induced to read,
will often be most sensible and useful in other ways. They
will be pleasant in their homes, and visit the poor, and tend
the sick; and in God's sight these labours are, doubtless, quite
as important as studying Schiller or Dante; though it must
not be forgotten, that mental work is necessary for the balance
of character, and, therefore, reading in some form, and to a
certain degree, ought always to be urged upon young people,
though we cannot really excite their interest in it. In this, as
in every case, our disappointment is the result of a mistaken
aim.  We put our own wishes in the place of God's manifest
intention, and so, instead of taking the materials He has given
us, and doing the best we can with them, in the mode which
nature points out; we decide for ourselves what children ought
to be, and then set to work to make them such; without troub
471 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION.
ling ourselves to ask whether God has placed the means of
doing so within our reach.
This must not be interpreted to imply that children should
never be made to learn anything for which they have not a decided bias, for there is a certain amount of general information
which is needful for all; and when once the first difficulties are
mastered, an interest will constantly be aroused in studies,
which at the beginning were almost disliked. But it does imply that it is no use to battle against decided tastes, or (after
a certain effort has been made to conquer them) against decided distastes.   Children often dislike the trouble of learning music; yet some knowledge of it is so useful that it is by
no means wise to give way at once to the fancy; but if there
is really no ear and no musical faculty, the time and money
bestowed upon the acquirement of music are absolutely lost.
These things are matters of observation.   In childhood, therefore, we have to watch, and examine, and find out what the
natural inclinations and powers are; but in youth we can only
accept them, and do our utmost to train them in a right direction, and make them useful in the way which God has appointed. When we have done this we have nothing to reproach
ourselves with; and there need be no disappointment, although
the character and pursuits may be wholly unlike what we had
pictured to ourselves as desirable.
And once more, as a source of disappointment, there are
too often home influences-influences which, whether good or
evil, are so strong, that after long experience most governesses
will probably arrive at the general conclusion that the pupils
who come from good homes would have been good without
their efforts; and those who come from unsatisfactory homes
will scarcely ever be anything but unsatisfactory, even with
them.
A private governess must indeed be so alive to the power
of this domestic influence that, supposing it to be injurious it
can scarcely be a matter of disappointment, though it may be
a great vexation to find that she is unable to make head
472 
CO)NCLUSION.
against it. But she has one advantage-she can throw herself
into it, and work in a measure with it. And she can understand her pupils' trials and temptations, and guard them
against them; whereas the governess who receives pupils in
her own house is comparatively ignorant of their difficulties.
She mknows only what she is told, and it is next to impossible
to give good advice upon one-sided information.
So it is that young people who are troublesome and wilful
at home, will often be amiable and agreeable away from it, and
will even develop really charming qualities, and appear to act
upon religious principles; and yet, when they return home, the
old faults will show themselves again as if they had never
been corrected. It must not be thought from this fact that no
good has been effected by the school training. The faults do
indeed exhibit themselves in a very disappointing way; but
they will not do so now, as they did probably heretofore, without a strong check from conscience. The child may do wrong,
but she is no longer ignorant of it; and there will be an inward struggle in consequence, which, though it may fail to result in any marked improvement at the time, is the beginning
of the effort which is to last through life, and, through God's
help, must be finally victorious.
But the disappointment is unquestionably great to the governess. To strive, and pray, and warn, and entreat, and to
believe that God's blessing has so rested upon our efforts that
the heart is really touched, and the work will be permanent;
and then to find that it is apparently nothing more than the effect of extraneous influences; is so disappointing that it almost
tempts us to distrust all outward appearances. Certainly, it
tends to make an earnest mind very cautious as to subjecting
the young for a continuance to what may be called the excitements and luxuries of religion, likely as they are to produce a
semblance of good, ending in self-deceit. Where there is actual unreality the heart is fatally injured, and it may requir
years of suffering and bitter experience to restore it to simplicity. But in very many cases there is no unreality, only
473 
PRINOIPLES OF EDUCATION.
the principle is young and weak, and requires support; and
when the scenes and circumstances in which it is to be exercised are untoward, it seems for a time to fail.
But it is only seeming —only for a time. We must ever
remember that the result of our labours can never be estimated
in this life, and therefore to judge of our work by its apparent
success is most surely to open the door to discouragement. In
the Day when all things are revealed, we shall see and know
better; and in that Day, as we shall have to bear the sight of
the consequences of our sins and neglect, so shall we also be
gladdened by seeing the consequences of our efforts for good.
The seed which is now buried in a hard dry soil will, when the
ground is harrowed by affliction, or by some other discipline
of God's Providential grace, spring up and bear fruit. We
may never know it in this life, but we shall know it after
death. And in the mean time we may safely trust our work
in God's Hands, with the certainty that if even the cup of cold
water, given in the name of Jesus, shall not lose its reward,
much less shall the "word spoken in season," or the watchful
care exercised when none was near to notice or to praise.
And assuredly there is, in many cases, a reward even on
earth. It may not come to us in the form which we have pictured to ourselves;-there, where our hearts were most centred,
the blight may fall witheringly;-but it will sometimes be given
in cases in which we could least have anticipated it.
In so far as we have in any way been permitted to
strengthen the young heart, and guide it on its Christian course,
it will look to us with a loving gratitude which will bind it to us to
its latest day. Earth's bereavements are many, but the gap which
death makes, life-the life of the young-can in a measure fill up.
If when that life is given into our hands to cherish and train for
Heaven, we carry on our work in dependence upon God's grace,
the tie is no longer natural, but spiritual. The life becomes one
with ours, to remain united with ours for ever. Though 4cattered over the face of the earth-perchance in other lands, perchance in scenes and circles removed from our own, yet those
474 
CONCLUSION.
whom we have tended for God and led to Him will still turn to
us as their best and truest friends; and whilst these interests are
secured to us there can be no lasting dreariness, no real lone liness. Travelling, as we trust we are ourselves, towards Heaven,
we shall watch with a satisfaction which no mere human bond can
inspire the course of the young who thus belong to us, and are
following us. Their joys will be in a measure our joys, their
sorrows our sorrows. The brief moments of meeting will from
time to time renew their eager sympathies, and recall the first
freshness of their young affections. Others may indeed be nearer
and dearer, but none can go back to the days "lang syne gone
by," and be to them what we have been. What the importance
of those memories may be, we may not venture to imagine.
Each separate soul has its own secret history, and God alone
can tell how far any single influence has been used as the means
through which His Grace has effected its conversion; but of
one fact we may be certain, that of all the influences which surround the young there is none so powerful, so abiding, as that
of thorough, devoted, Christian earnestness. Only give them
faith in this-only convince them that it exists; and we have
provided them with a shield for their future life, the value of
which will only be appreciated at its close.
The halfheartedness, the lukewarmness, the inconsistency
of the professing Christian world it is, which drives the young
to indifference, and too often to scepticism. There is a mournful, a most heart-sickening confession, which perhaps it may
have been ours to hear from the lips of one whom we have sent
forth to face the battle of life-" I have lost all confidence in
goodness. The people whom I meet are heartless; I see no
high principle. I can scarcely realize its existence. It is in
vain to struggle against the current, and therefore I go
with it."
One cure is to be found for that terrible distrust. A recall
to the scenes of former holy joys and the society of friends, the
evidence of whose sincerity cannot be doubted.
The sight or the memory of one holy life will then be a shield
475 
PRINCIPLES OF EDUOATION.
against unbelief, from which the darts of Satan will fall powerless.  To behold "how a Christian can die" is a great privilege; but to behold how a Christian can live is a yet greater
one. And it is this shield, this inestimable safeguard, which
it is in the power, as it is the paramount duty, of every one to
whose guardianship the Redeemer has confided the young, to
provide.
Once let us be told that our efforts have not been in vain;
-once let us hear it said, " But for you I should never have
known the reality of religion. The example of your life made
me feel what it is to give the heart to God;" and we may exclaim, "Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace,"
for on earth we shall have had our reward, and no purer joy
will here be awaiting us.
Yet more will that reward be intensified if it shall have
been secured to us by the irrevocable seal of death.
No risk of change! No dread of future temptations! No
fear of backsliding! But the soul-the spirit we loved so dearly
-the heart which responded to ours so tenderly-safe-safe
for ever!
To God be the glory, as to us will be the joy. Precious
beyond all other treasures are those which we have thus given
to His care, and loving is the watch which in Paradise He keeps
over them.
Their home is a home of waiting rest-of peace unutterable.  A time will soon come-God grant it!-when we shall
join them there; and when the long twilight day is ended, and
the Morning of the Resurrection breaks upon us, once more
we shall be permitted to claim them for our own; as in the
sight of angels and of saints we bow before the Throne of the
Redeemer, and in humblest thankfulness say, "Lord, here are
we, and the children whom Thou hast given us."
THE END.
4T6 
D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS.
Greek Ollendoriff;
Being a Progressive Exhibition of the Principles of the Greek Grammar.
By ASAHEL C. KENDRICK, Professor of the Greek Language and
Literature in the University of Rochester. 12mo, 371 pages.
The present work is what its title indicates, strictly an Ollendorf, and aims to
apply the methods which have proved so successful in the acquisition of the modern
languages to the study of Ancient Greek, with such differences as the different genius
of the Greek, and the different purposes for which it is studied, suggest. It differs
from the modern Ollendorffs in containing Exercises for reciprocal translation, in
confining them within a smaller compass, and in a more methodical exposition of the
principles of language.
The leading object of the author was to furnish a book which should serve as an
introduction to the study of Greek, and precede the use of any grammar.  It will
therefore be found, although not claiming to embrace all the principles of the Grammar, yet complete in itself. and will lead the pupil, by insensible gradations, from the
simpler constructions to those which are more complicated and difficult. The exceptions, and the more idiomatic forms, it studiously avoids, aiming only to exhibit the
regular and ordinary usages of the language as the proper starting-point for the student's
further researches.
In presenting these, the author has aimed to combine the strictest accuracy with
the utmost simplicity of statement. His work is therefore adapted to a younger class
of pupils than have usually engaged in the study of Greek, and will, it is hoped, win
to the acquisition of that noble tongue many in our academies and primary schools who
have been repelled by the less simple character of our ordinary text-books.
Exercises in Greek Composition.
Adapted to the First Book of Xenophon's Anabasis. By JAMES R.
BOISE, Professor of Greek in the University of Michigan. 12mo,
185 pages.
These Exercises consist of easy sentences, similar to those in the Anabasis, having
the same words and constructions, and are designed by frequent repitition to make the
learner familiar with the language of Xenophon. Accordingly, the chapters and sections in both are made to correspond. -No exercises can be more improving than those
(n this volume; obliging the student as they do, by analysis and synthesis, to master
die constructions employed by one of the purest of Greek writers, and imbuing hinm
wtth the spirit of one of the greatest historians of all antiquity 
D). APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS.
Xenophon's Anabasis:
With Explanatory Notes for the use of Schools and Colleges in the
United States. By JAMES R. BOISE, Professor of Greek in the
University of Michigan. 12mo, 393 pages.
A handsome and convenient edition of this great classic, really adapted to the wants
of schools, has long been needed; the want is here met by Professor Boise in a manner
that leaves nothing to be desired. Decidedly the best German editions, whether text
or commentary be considered, have appeared within the last few years; and of these
Mr. Boise has made free use; while, at the same time, he has not lost sight of the fact
that the classical schools of this country are behind those of Germany, and that simpler
and more elementary explanations are therefore often necessary in a work prepared for
American schools. Nothing has been put in the notes for the sake of a mere display
of learning-pedantry is out of place in a school-book; and nothing has been introduced
by way of comment except what can be turned to practical use by the reader.
An historical Introduction, which will enable the pupil to enter on his task intelligently, is prefixed. An abundance of geographical information, embodying the latest
discoveries of travellers, is supplied; and the whole is illustrated with Kiepert's excellent map, showing the entire route of the ten thousand on their retreat.
The First Three Books of Anabasis:
With Explanatory Notes and References to Hadley and Kiihner's Greek
Grammars, and to Goodwin's Greek Moods and Tenses. A copious
Greek-English Vocabulary, and Kiepert's Map of the Route of the
Ten Thousand. 12mo, 268 pages.
Xenophon's Memorabilia of Socrates:
With Notes and an Introduction. By R. D. C. ROBBINS, Professor
of Languages in Middlesex College, Vermont. 12mo, 421 pages.
This will be found an exceedingly useful book for College classes. The text is large
and distinct, the typography accurate, ani the notes judicious and scholarly. Instead
of referring the student to a variety of books, few of which are within his reach, the
editor has wisely supplied whatever is necessary. An admirably treatise on the Life
of Socrates introduces the work, and English and Greek Indexes render it easy No refer
to the text and notes. 
D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS.
PI'lato's Apology and Crito;
With Notes. By W. S. TYLER, Graves Professor of Greek in Amherst
College. 12mo, 180 pages.
This edition of the Apology and Crito has been prepared to meet the
largely felt want among students of the Dialogues of Plato, now mostly
superseded in Academic Courses. It is in the main an exact reprint of
Stallbaum's Third Edition-though the author has had before him, and
used, whenever it seemed best, the editions of Bekker, Forster, Ast, Schleiermacher, and others. The Notes are particularly full and clear; and errors
in the text have been guarded against with the very greatest care.
From J. B. GARRITT, Professor of Greek, Iranover (Ind.) College.
"I can most heartily say that I am much pleased with the book. Prof. Tyler seems
to have hit the happy medium between too profuse and too scanty notes; and also
to have known the kind of notes needed in our American institutions, better than the
great majority of those who have given us editions of the ancient classics. I have
adopted the work this year, in place of ths Georgias, and anticipate much pleasure in
reading it in connection with the class."
From JACOB COOPER, Pu.D., Professor of the Greek Lan?guage and Literature in
Centre College, Danville, Ky.
"I have examined Prof. Tyler's edition of the'Apology and Crito,' and am highly
pleased with its execution. It bears the marks of the editor's well-known scholarship;
and is an acceptable addition to our college text-books. The typography is also accurate and very beautiful. I purpose to introduce it into Centre College."
Fromn ALPHEUS S. PACKARD, Professor of the Greek Language, Bowdoin College.
"I received, a short time since, Plato's Apology and Crito, edited by Prof. Tyler.
I am much pleased with the edition, and shall introduce it into my classes as soon as I
have opportunity. I have no doubt it will prove a most acceptable addition to the
classics read in our colleges."
From W. H. YOUrNG. Dept. Asset. Languages, Ohio ITniversity, Athens.
"It will meet a pressing want with us, and shall be introduced at once. The type
is beautiful indeed, and the earnest teacher of the classics needs no better recommendation of a text-book than the name of Prof. Tyler."
From the -New York Observer.
"A valuable service to classical learning and letters in general has been rendered
by Prof. Tyler, in giving to the American student this edition of Plato's Apology and
Crito. Hitherto, the scholars of our country have had no access to this work of Plato,
except in foreign editions, or as in fragmentary form they found it in the old and now
obsolete Grsmca Majora. It is now placed within their reach, in a form both convenient
and beautiful, and accompanied by such notes and illustrations as to remove all serious
d'fficulties in ascertaining the meaning of the text.  One of the most valuable feature
of this edition is the introduction, which occupies some forty pages, and contains a
clear and scholarly analysis of the Defence of the great philosopher before his judges,
who had already determined on his death." 
D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS.
Selections from Herodotus;
Comprising mainly such portions as give a Connected History of the
East to the Fall of Babylon and the Death of Cyrus the Great.
By HERMAN M. JOHNSON, D.D., Professor of Philosophy and
English Literature in Dickinson College. 12mo, 185 pages.
The present selection embraces such parts of Herodotus as give a connected history of Asiatic nations. These portions are not only particularly interesting in themselves, but open to the student a new field, inasmuch as the other Greek and Roman
authors commonly put into his hands leave this period of history untouched.
Herodotus is peculiarly adapted to academical reading. It has charms for the
student which no other text-book possesses, on account of the simple elegance of the
style and the liveliness of the narrative. In preparing his notes, the editor has borne
in mind that they are intended for learners in the earlier part of their classical course;
he has therefore made the explanations in the former part of the work quite full, with
frequent references to such grammars as are in the hands of most students.
The notes proper are purely explanatory and grammatical. Other remarks, in the
way of criticism or investigation, are appended to the several chapters, for the sake of
awakening reflection and inciting to further inqliry.
A condensed treatise on the Ionic Dialect, and the peculiar forms of declension and
conjugation used by Herodotus, removes one of the most serious difficulties that has
heretofore embarrassed the student in reading this author. If this chapter is learned
in advance, the dialectic forms, otherwise so troublesome, will be recognized without
the slightest difficulty.
The text is printed in large, bold type, and accompanied with a Map of the regions
described.
Sophocles' (Edipus Tyrannus.
With English Notes, for the use of Students in Schools and Colleges.
By HOWARD CROSBY, A.M., Professor of the Greek Language
and Literature in the New York University. 12mo, 138 pages.
The object had in view in this publication is to furnish to college-students the
masterpiece of the greatest of Greek tragic poets in a convenient form. No learned
criticism on text was needed or has been attempted. The Tauchnitz edition has been
chiefly followed, and such aid is rendered, in the way of notes, as may assist, not
render needless, the efforts of the student. Too much help begets indolence; too little,
despaih, the author has striven to present the happy mean.
The inviting appearance of the text and the merit of the commentary hav, made
this volume a favorite wherever it has been used.