eness, amongst children, as amongst men, is the root of all evil,
and leads to no evil more certainly than to ill temper. It is
said,[40] that the late king of Spain was always so cross during
Passion week, when he was obliged to abstain from his favourite
amusement of hunting, that none of his courtiers liked to approach his
majesty. There is a great similarity between the condition of a prince
flattered by his courtiers, and a child humoured by his family; and we
may observe, that both the child and prince are most intolerable to
their dependants and friends, when any of their daily amusements are
interrupted. It is not that the amusements are in themselves
delightful, but the pains and penalties of idleness are insupportable.
We have endeavoured to provide a variety of occupations, as well as of
amusements, for our young pupils,[41] that they may never know the
misery of the Spanish monarch. When children are occupied, they are
independent of other people, they are not obliged to watch for casual
entertainment from those who happen to be unemployed, or who chance to
be in a humour to play with them; they have some agreeable object
continually in view, and they feel satisfied with themselves. They
will not torment every body in the house with incessant requests. "May
I have this? Will you give me that? May I go out to see such a thing?
When will it be dinner time? When will it be tea time? When will it be
time for me to go to supper?" are the impatient questions of a child
who is fretful from having nothing to do. Idle children are eternal
petitioners, and the refusals they meet with, perpetually irritate
their temper. With respect to requests in general, we should either
grant immediately what a child desires, or we should give a decided
refusal. The state of suspense is not easily borne; the propriety or
impropriety of the request should decide us either to grant, or to
refuse it; and we should not set the example of caprice, or teach our
pupils the arts of courtiers, who watch the humour of tyrants. If we
happen to be busy, and a child comes with an eager request about some
trifle, it is easy so far to command our temper as to answer, "I am
busy, don't talk to me now," instead of driving the petitioner away
with harsh looks, and a peremptory refusal, which make as great an
impression as harsh words. If we are reasonable, the child will soon
learn to apply to us at proper times. By the same steady, gentle
conduct, we