heart, is to be distorted and marred by memories of outbreaks, acts of
ungovernable impulse and insubordination, habitual disregard of all
authority, and disrespectful, if not contemptuous, treatment of his mother.

There is a sweetness as well as a bitterness of grief; and something like
a feeling of joy and gladness will spring up in the mother's heart, and
mingle with and soothe her sorrow, if she can think of her boy, when he
is gone, as always docile, tractable, submissive to her authority, and
obedient to her commands. Such recollections, it is true, can not avail to
remove her grief--perhaps not even to diminish its intensity; but they will
greatly assuage the bitterness of it, and wholly take away its _sting_.




CHAPTER IV.


GENTLE PUNISHMENT OF DISOBEDIENCE.

Children have no natural instinct of obedience to their parents, though
they have other instincts by means of which the habit of obedience, as an
acquisition, can easily be formed.

The true state of the case is well illustrated by what we observe among the
lower animals. The hen can call her chickens when she has food for them, or
when any danger threatens, and they come to her. They come, however, simply
under the impulse of a desire for food or fear of danger, not from any
instinctive desire to conform their action to their mother's will; or, in
other words, with no idea of submission to parental authority. It is so,