this means any thing become a more honourable, pleasant, attractive idea than virtue and honesty. This is the sum of wisdom, and the sum of education.
STR. This lesson I shall never forget, nor the conversation that introduced it, and the friendly virtuous warmth with which it was pronounced. But pardon me, dear Damocles, we must not part yet. The substantial part of my question still remains to be considered. And that is, how virtuous habits may be early formed. It will but cost you a few words to satisfy me, if this be as easy to comprehend as the negative part (may I not call it so) we have gone through.
DAM. A hint of any thing is enough to you. And so it is indeed to all those who love truth and virtue. If we have but a heart good enough to desire to find wisdom we shall soon find her. Do you therefore ask me any question you please on the subject. Name me any virtue you would have early formed in your child, and I will tell you what I take to be the properest method of doing it: For it is but applying to a particular case the rule we have already fixed upon, which is, that it must be done by instruction, joined with discipline or practice, the latter of which is the chief part.
STR. I would rather have you to go on, and to choose any instances you think properest.
DAM. Let it be as you will. Only tell me what you take to be the cardinal virtue, the foundation, the mother of them all?
STR. I think it is the noble strength or fortitude of mind which the word itself originally signifies.
DAM. You are right. And that means a mind vigorous enough to make any appetite listen to reason, and take its directions from that faculty, which surely, has an original indefeasible right to govern all our motions and pursuits. This nursing mother of the virtues is called temperance, and she was properly painted like the parent of the Gods, old reverend Cybele, drawn by rein’d lions, patient of the bit, and on her head a turret-like attire, the image of defensive power and strength of mind.—But surely I need not tell you, that such a temper will never be acquired, if the child’s cravings, much less, if his wilful, peevish cravings are readily complied with on the one hand; nor if he is teazed and crossed on the other without reason, or in a capricious arbitrary manner.
STR. This I am convinced of. Temperance consists in bearing and forbearing in obedience to reason. Youth therefore must be taught to bear and forbear, but still for good or satisfying reasons. But what if they are stubborn, and will not be satisfied by good reasons?32
DAM. There is little occasion to apprehend that, if they are early taught and inured to know, that what is good for them, if it can be given them, will never be refused them, and that nothing is ever forbidden them that is not really unfit for them. Teach them to moderate their desires, and to suspend giving satisfaction to their fancies and appetites till the reasonableness of them hath been considered, and never cross them when they are modest and reasonable in their demands, and there will be very little, if any necessity for the rod, which most parents use so liberally, after their children are grown up to a certain age, to correct faults of their own production. The patience of thinking being once gained, it will be easy after that to teach children any lesson, or to form not merely the ideas, but the principles and habits of liberality, or any other virtue in their minds. But how is this habit to be engendered and settled in them, but by accustoming them to submit their desires from their very cradles, and never yielding to their impatience. If they were thus used from the beginning, children would no more cry for other things than they do for the moon. This may seem harsh doctrine to fond parents. But let them consider how this practice will prevent the necessity of punishment, when the conquest will be very difficult. For appetites become strong and restive, in proportion as they are humoured and indulged. And at whatever times we ourselves would attain to the mastery of our desires, the first step must be, to be able to stop them, and keep them in silence. How happy therefore must it be for children, during the whole course of their lives, to have early and insensibly, while their affections were young and pliable, acquired the habit of staying the impetuosity of their fancies, and of deliberating with themselves and advising with others about what is fit to be done or not done, before they take their resolution, and proceed to action! In fine, the great secret of education lies wholly in considering what influence any action of a child, or any indulgence to his desires, will have upon his mind: What habit it tends to produce, and how that habit will befit him, or whither it will lead him when he is grown up. For however small or trivial an action may appear in itself, yet custom is not a light thing, but of the last consequence. Strange! that the power of habit should be every day acknowledged by every one, and yet children should be treated as if there were no such principle in human nature; as if repeated exercises had no aptitude to settle habits, or as if habits could be as easily laid aside as one’s cloaths. These things, Strephon, are too plain to need any further confirmation to you. Have you any thing else to ask?
STR. Forgive the weakness of a father, who fears he shall hardly be able to keep your excellent lesson in his view when his child frets and cries, and shews great uneasiness. I must beg you to explain a little further upon this article, of not yielding easily to children’s demands or complainings. For methinks, you can’t mean that a child should not be allowed to express his wants and pains to his parents.
DAM. There is a great difference, Strephon, between the cravings of nature and those of fancy. And therefore parents ought to distinguish between them. There are natural wants, which reason alone, without some other help, is not able to keep from disturbing us. The pains excited in us by the necessary demands of nature, are designed to be monitors to us of the mischiefs of which they are fore-runners. And therefore they must not be totally neglected, or even suffered unnecessarily to give us too great uneasiness, or to put us in imminent peril. The pains of sickness, hunger, thirst, cold, heat, want of sleep or rest, are what all men feel. The best disposed minds must and ought to be sensible of these uneasinesses: nay, it is duty to seek their removal by proper methods. But how? Not with too great impatience or over great haste, but with deliberation, patience, and sedate thought about the fit means of redress or relief. A person who cannot bear up, even under these necessary uneasinesses, to a considerable degree of fortitude and constancy, is far from being so firm and hardy, as adherence to virtue, as regard to the public, as compassion, as friendship, as several good offices of life will often require at his hands. What therefore must be the consequence of this truth with respect to education? It is indeed fit that children should have liberty to declare their wants to their parents, and those who have the oversight of them, and that they should be tenderly hearkened to. Austerity in refusing to hearken to them, far from serving any good purpose, must have this very hurtful effect, that it will quickly cool the affection which should be between them. But are not those two very different things, to say, “I am hungry,” and to say, “I must have such a particular good thing, or I won’t eat.” Parents are bound to supply the necessary wants of their children, but children ought not to be allowed to choose for themselves, but should be inured to leave the choice and ordering of their food and cloaths, and every thing, to their parents or tutors. In truth, the more our children can be brought by mild discipline to endure pains, arising even from the necessities of nature, the better for them. Such endurance will make them stronger in body, and which is still better, stronger in mind. But whatever compliances the necessities of nature may require, the cravings of fancy ought never to be gratified; unless we would teach and encourage fancy to be ever inventing new wants. For in proportion as it is humoured and indulged, does it not become more impatient, more exorbitant and insatiable? Consider well, Strephon, how few the wants of nature are, in comparison of those of indulged, wanton, capricious fancy; and whence it is that virtue receives the fiercest assaults; nay, how far superior in number, as well as in force, imaginary evils in life are to real ones, and you will, by no means, think the discipline I have been recommending, cruel, tho’ it were to cost children a great deal more pain than it can possibly do, if early begun. Take care to prevent the false associations of ideas that inflame the desires from which virtue runs the greatest risk; and you will by this means reduce the wants of children into a very narrow compass; you will early lead them to place their chief happiness where it is only to be found, i.e. in things wholly within their own power, the eternal goods of the mind. Wisdom and virtue
