"But she went to the book-case, which was just as bad. Children must be in some mischief."
"Not so bad, Sarah; for she had been made to comprehend why it was wrong to go to your basket, but not so of the book-case."
"I'm sure I've scolded her about taking down the books fifty times, and still, every chance she can get, she's at them again."
"You may have scolded her; but scolding a child and making it comprehend its error are two things. Scolding darkens the mind by arousing evil passions, instead of enlightening it with clear perceptions of right and, wrong. No child is ever improved by scolding, but always injured."
"There are few children who are not injured, then. I should like to see a mother get along with a parcel of children without scolding them."
"It is a sad truth, as you say, that there are but few children who are not injured by scolding. No cause is so active for evil among children as their mother's impatience, which shows itself from the first, and acts upon them through the whole period in which their minds are taking impressions and hardening into permanent forms. Like you, Sarah, our own mother had but little patience among her children, and you can look back and remember, as well as I, many instances in which this impatience led her into hasty and ill-judged acts and expressions that did us harm rather than good."
"It's an easy thing to talk, William. An easy thing to say—Have patience."
"I know it is, Sarah; and a very hard thing to compel ourselves to have patience. But, if a mother's love for her children be not strong enough to induce her to govern herself for their sakes, who shall seek their good? Who will make any sacrifice for them?"
"Are you not afraid to trust Mary up in your room?" said Mrs. Elder, recollecting at the moment that Mary was alone there for a longer time than she felt to be prudent.
"No. She will not trouble any thing."