preceding chapter, the question of discipline is one which will demand the serious attention of the parent. Without this, the moral training cannot be efficiently carried on. One thing must be understood that discipline is not necessarily punishment, and that punishment is not always wise discipline. "Of all the blessings that may befall us in childhood," writes Dr. Vaughan, "there cannot be a greater than that of a home where there is discipline, but a discipline without fear. The family is the State in little. The effects of a reign of terror are the same in both. Deceit and falsehood seem to become legitimate weapons when left as the only means wherewith the weak can hope to oppose themselves successfully to the lawlessness of the strong.

A wise liberty must be allowed to children, in combination with the requirement of perfect submission and the exercise of self-restraint. Children are being trained to think and act for themselves in after-life; and in order to this, the golden mean must be found between a rule so strict as to destroy all independent action, and unchecked licence. Home-life ought not to be a state of slavery, but of freedom,-freedom regulated by wise laws, which children must early be taught that it is their duty, their interest, and their happiness to obey. No life is so wretched to a child as that in which its liberty is unrestrained; and the result will be as disastrous as the immediate effect is unhappy. A watchful but not a meddlesome supervision must be exercised over the whole life. To be constantly finding fault, and magnifying petty errors into great sins, will

1 Memoir of his Son,

I

be productive of harm to the child's temper, and will often lead him to think lightly of serious faults. Yet, on the other hand, the common phrase, a spoiled child, significantly shows the danger of too much letting alone. A child thus treated is spoiled indeed.

The wise and pious parent will, for this arduous task, seek the wisdom which cometh from above." The word of God teaches, with Divine authority, the true philosophy on this point.' Strict obedience must be enforced, and faults corrected, even by severe chastisement. On the other hand, we must not provoke our children to anger, "lest they be discouraged." "Mr. Richmond's method of discipline," writes Mr. Bickersteth, "was peculiar to himself, partly the effect of his own unbounded tenderness and affection, but, in a great measure, of his deep and extraordinary piety. He could never be accused of a weak connivance at evil, for here he was resolute, firm, and inflexible; yet he was never known to employ corporal chastisement. He was alive to all that was wrong in principle or conduct, and he never ceased to remonstrate or to employ means to reduce his child to obedience, and awaken in him a sense of error. But the chief way in which he marked his displeasure was by those signs of extreme distress which penetrated the heart of the delinquent, and softened rebellion into regret. Seeking for himself help and guidance from above, he showed his determination to punish the offender by excluding him for a time from the society of the family, as one unworthy to share in their privileges and affections." The result of this mode of treatment was,

'Prov. xxix. 15, 17; xix. 18.

3.66

2

* Col. iii. 21.

"Domestic Portraiture."

in his case, very happy.

"No one of his children could

long endure this exclusion, or bear, with sullen indifference, a countenance which silently expressed the deepest anguish. Perhaps there never was a family in which the reign of love suffered less interruption."

Children may very early be taught to exercise selfdiscipline, and thus materially assist the labours of the parent. A remarkable instance of this is given in the "Memoir of Francis Lewis Mackenzie," who at a very early age was taught to exercise self-control, and even take himself to task when he had been guilty of a fault. "I certainly never saw a child," said his mother, in a letter written at the time to an absent daughter, and when he was scarcely more than two years old, "with such a decided will of his own; so much ardour, energy, and intentness of purpose, who at that early age was so very easily managed and reasoned with. When he takes any little tantrum of impatience or self-will, if he is contended with, he gets worse; but the way I now always adopt is to take him aside for a moment, and in a kind, calm, but very firm manner, whisper in his ear, 'Was it right and good of Frank to do so-and-so?' He listens attentively to me, reflects for a minute, and then, with a solemnity and firmness that would make you laugh, pronounces 'No.' Having once condemned himself, he immediately, with the greatest sweetness and cheerfulness, yields the point entirely, whatever it may have been."

Consciences thus awakened, and judgments thus early brought into action, will to a great extent' prevent the necessity of severe discipline at a later period. That necessity too often tells of early neglect, of habits of self-will allowed to grow unchecked in the early

period of self-consciousness. In the formation of character, as well as in religious instruction, we cannot begin too soon. Happy those parents who, by a consistent and holy regard for the highest welfare of their children, not only occasionally instruct or correct them, but train them up in habits of virtue and godliness. Their labour "shall not be in vain in the Lord."

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CHAPTER VIII.

CHILD-PIETY.

THE possibility of early and even of infant piety has always been acknowledged, but, perhaps, its true nature has not always been well understood. The idea of piety in children has been too often associated with some diseased development of the faculties. The child has been unnaturally precocious, the mental powers have been too early developed, the moral nature has been morbidly sensitive, and the prematurely wise and pious infant has been supposed to be thereby marked out for an early death.

In many of the cases of very early piety which we have on record, this has undoubtedly been the case. The piety itself has been precocious, and, but that we can hardly doubt the sincerity of a child of three or four years old, it would seem artificial. It has been more like the adoption of a mature form of piety by a mind far older than its years, and tinged with the sadness of premature decay, than the healthy outgrowth of an infant mind under the gracious influences of the Holy Spirit, infantile in all its apprehensions, emotions, and sympathies.

It is an error to suppose that piety in children, and especially in very young children, should assume precisely the same form as the piety of grown-up people. Children do not cease to be children because their hearts are renewed by Divine grace. The profound philosopher and the illiterate peasant may both