ght will know to be imaginary, begin, as the dusk draws on, to
become appalling possibilities. They may be somewhere about, lurking in
cellars and cupboards and lofts and dark entries by day, and at night
they may slip out to do what harm they can. For children, not far from
the gates of birth, are still strongly the victims of primeval and
inherited fears, not corrected by the habitual current of life. It is
not a reason for depriving children of the joys of the old tales and
the exercise of the faculty of wonder; but the tendency should be very
carefully guarded and watched, because these sudden shocks may make
indelible marks, and leave a little weak spot in the mind which may
prove difficult to heal.
It is not only these spectral terrors against which children have to be
guarded. All severity and sharp indignity of punishment, all
intemperate anger, all roughness of treatment, should be kept in strict
restraint. There are noisy, boisterous, healthy children, of course,
who do not resent or even dread sharp usage. But it is not always easy
to discover the sensitive child, because fear of displeasure will
freeze him into a stupor of apparent dullness and stubbornness. I am
always infuriated by stupid people who regret the disappearance of
sharp, stern, peremptory punishments, and lament the softness of the
rising generation. If punishment must be inflicted, it should be done
good-naturedly and robustly as a natural tit-for-tat. Anger should be
reserved for things like spitefulness and dishonesty and cruelty. There
is nothing more utterly confusing to the childish mind than to have
trifling faults treated with wrath and indignation. It is true that, in
the world of nature, punishment seems often wholly disproportionate to
offences. Nature will penalise carelessness in a disastrous fashion,
and spare the cautious and prudent sinner. But there is no excuse for
us, if we have any sense of justice and patience at all, for not
setting a better example. We ought to show children that there is a
moral order which we are endeavouring to administer. If parents and
schoolmasters, who are both judges and executioners, allow their own
rule to be fortuitous, indulge their own irritable moods, punish
severely a trifling fault, and sentimentalise or condone a serious one,
a child is utterly confused. I know several people who have had their
lives blighted, have been made suspicious, cynical, crafty, and timid,
by severe usage and bu
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