llying and open contempt in childhood. The thing
to avoid, for all who are responsible in the smallest degree for the
nurture of children, is to call in the influence of fear; one may speak
plainly of consequences, but even there one must not exaggerate, as
schoolmasters often do, for the best of motives, about moral faults;
one may punish deliberate and repeated disobedience, wanton cruelty,
persistent and selfish disregard of the rights of others, but one must
warn many times, and never try to triumph over a fault by the
infliction of a shock of any kind. The shock is the most cruel and
cowardly sort of punishment, and if we wilfully use it, then we are
perpetuating the sad tyranny of instinctive fear, and using the
strength of a great angel to do the work of a demon, such as I saw long
ago in the old magazine, and felt its tyranny for many days.

As a child the one thing I was afraid of was the possibility of my
father's displeasure. We did not see a great deal of him, because he
was a much occupied headmaster; and he was to me a stately and majestic
presence, before whom the whole created world seemed visibly to bow.
But he was deeply anxious about our upbringing, and had a very strong
sense of his responsibility; and he would sometimes reprove us rather
sternly for some extremely trifling thing, the way one ate one's food,
or spoke, or behaved. This descended upon me as a cloud of darkness; I
attempted no excuses, I did not explain or defend myself; I simply was
crushed and confounded. I do not think it was the right method. He
never punished us, but we were not at ease with him. I remember the
agony with which I heard a younger sister once repeat to him some silly
and profane little jokes which a good-natured and absurd old lady had
told us in the nursery. I felt sure he would disapprove, as he did. I
knew quite well in my childish mind that it was harmless nonsense, and
did not give us a taste for ungodly mirth. But I could not intervene or
expostulate. I am sure that my father had not the slightest idea how
weighty and dominant he was; but many of the things he rebuked would
have been better not noticed, or if noticed only made fun of, while I
feel that he ought to have given us more opportunity of stating our
case. He simply frightened me into having a different morality when I
was in his presence to what I had elsewhere. But he did not make me
love goodness thereby, and only gave me a sense that certain things,