Punctual to his appointment, Lewis arrived, looking so handsome and animated that Laura felt doubly grieved at having to make a communication which she was persuaded would tend to renew the memory of a grief against which he appeared to have struggled with some degree of success. Her task was rendered the more difficult from the conviction that Lewis’s intercourse with her husband and herself had been of great service to him, by insensibly overcoming his misanthropic distaste to society. This intercourse, she feared, the tidings she was about to impart to him would effectually interrupt.
“Where is ‘Tarley’?” inquired Lewis, after exchanging salutations with “La Madre.”
“In the nursery, adorning for the sacrifice of his personal freedom during the period you may require him to remain en position.” answered Laura; “shall I ring for him?”
“May I fetch him myself? I promised him a ride on my back for good conduct at the last sitting, and he must not be disappointed,” urged Lewis in reply.
“Agreed—always promising that you take great care not to tumble the clean frock,” returned Laura with a gratified smile. “Who could believe that man was the same creature who used to look so stern, and cold, and proud?” she added mentally, as Lewis departed on his mission; “he has as much tenderness of nature as any woman. If he really does love Annie, and she can prefer Lord Bellefield, she deserves all the unhappiness such a choice will inevitably bring upon her; her greatest enemy can wish her nothing worse. Well, ‘Tarley,’ are you going to sit still and be good?” she continued, as that self-willed juvenile entered, seated in triumph upon Lewis’s shoulder, and grasping a lock of his horse’s ebon mane the better to preserve his balance.
“Tarley” having signified in the very smallest broken English his intention to keep the peace to the best of his little ability, the sitting began in good earnest, and terminated, as far as that young gentleman was concerned, in less than an hour, during which period, as he only tore his mamma’s gown once, made a hole in the sofa-cover, and had one violent fit of kicking, he may comparatively be considered (all things are comparative) to have kept his word. A few finishing touches still remained to complete Laura’s portrait, and these Lewis hastened to add. The conversation (originating in “Tarley’s” escapades) turned on education.
“The theory which I hold to be the true one is simple enough,” remarked Lewis; “the first thing to inculcate is—oblige me by turning a little more to the light—implicit obedience; that once acquired—rather more still—you may, as the mind develops, occasionally give a reason for your commands—you see my object is to get a clearer light on the left eye-brow—thank you; don’t move.”
“But that obedience, to be of much avail, should be founded on other feelings than mere fear of punishment,” returned Laura; “for that in sturdy minds produces obstinacy, in weak ones deceit and falsehood, and in both cases necessarily loses its effect as the pupil advances towards maturity. It always appears to me that in our conduct towards children we should strive to imitate (with reverence be it spoken) God’s dealings towards ourselves. We should teach them to love and trust us, and obedience based on affection and faith will surely never fail for time or for eternity. Then,” she continued, as Lewis, bending over his work, failed to reply, “I should endeavour to make their punishments appear as much as possible the natural consequences of their faults; for instance, I should allow them to experience to the uttermost the mental suffering caused by pride and anger, and in their cooler moments point out to them that it may be wise, as well as right, to suffer even injustice mildly, rather than bear the distress of mind a contrary line of conduct is sure to entail. I should impress upon them the evil of coveting by denying them the thing they so eagerly sought. In fact,” she added hastily, fancying from her companion’s silence that for some reason her conversation was distasteful to him, “I have a great many sapient, theoretical ideas in regard to education, but how they may turn out when I come to put them in practice remains to be proved.”
Lewis, who during the conclusion of this speech had been painting away as zealously as if his life depended upon his exertions, though a close observer might have remarked, by his downcast eye and quivering lip, the effect Laura’s words produced on him, replied earnestly—
“Would to Heaven all mothers felt as truly and wisely as you do about education; were children taught such principles of self-government as you propose, there would be fewer aching hearts among us.”