"Because it would have been encouraging his touching or taking every thing he sees, whether proper for him or not."
"But he could not understand that."
"Not now, perhaps; but I wish him to know that when I speak, he must obey me. It is, I think, a mistaken doctrine, that we ought to give children a reason for all we desire them to do. Obedience can then never be prompt, as it ought to be. And, in fact, if we wait until they are old enough to understand the reasons for a command, the task will be much more difficult, from the ascendency which willfulness may already have obtained."
"But then why were you so cruel as to send the poor child up-stairs? Was it not enough to take the toy from him?"
"Not quite; for him to remember that he must not touch it again."
"And do you really think he will not?"
"I can only hope so, Eleanor; but I must not be disheartened if he do. He is an infant still, and I can not expect him to learn such a difficult lesson as obedience in one, two, or six lessons."
"And will he love you as much as if you had given it to him?"
"Not at the moment, perhaps, but when he is older he will love me more. And it is that hope which reconciles me to the pain which refusing to indulge him costs me now."
"And voluntarily you will bear the pain which had almost brought tears into the eyes of the severe and stoical Mrs. Hamilton!" exclaimed Eleanor.