and distress in the mind of the child, as a means of promoting repentance and reformation.  These are not violent measures, it is true, so far as outward physical action is concerned; but the effects which they produce are sometimes of quite a violent nature, in their operation on the delicate nervous and mental susceptibilities which are excited and agitated by them.  If the mother is successful in making the impression which such a mode of treatment is designed to produce, the child, especially if a girl, is agitated and distressed.  Her nervous system is greatly disturbed.  If calmed for a time, the paroxysm is very liable to return.  She wakes in the night, perhaps, with an indefinable feeling of anxiety and terror, and comes to her mother’s bedside, to seek, in her presence, and in the sense of protection which it affords, a relief from her distress.

The conscientious mother, supremely anxious to secure the best interests of her child, may say that, after all, it is better that she should endure this temporary suffering than not be saved from the sin.  This is true.  But if she can be saved just as effectually without it, it is better still.

The Gentle Method of Treatment.

4.  We now come to the gentle measures which may be adopted in a case of discipline like this.  They are endlessly varied in form, but, to illustrate the nature and operation of them, and the spirit and temper of mind with which they should be enforced, with a view of communicating; to the mind of the reader some general idea of the characteristics of that gentleness of treatment which it is the object of this work to commend, we will describe an actual case, substantially as it really occurred, where a child, whom we will still call Louisa, told her mother a falsehood about the apple, as already related.

Choosing the Right Time.

Her mother—­though Louisa’s manner, at the time of giving her answer, led her to feel somewhat suspicious—­did not express her suspicions, but gave her the additional apple.  Nor did she afterwards, when she ascertained the facts, say any thing on the subject.  The day passed away as if nothing unusual had occurred.  When bed-time came she undressed the child and laid her in her bed, playing with her, and talking with her in an amusing manner all the time, so as to bring her into a contented and happy frame of mind, and to establish as close a connection as possible of affection and sympathy between them.  Then, finally, when the child’s prayer had been said, and she was about to be left for the night, her mother, sitting in a chair at the head of her little bed, and putting her hand lovingly upon her, said: 

The Story.

“But first I must tell you one more little story.

“Once there was a boy, and his name was Ernest.  He was a pretty large boy, for he was five years old.”

Louisa, it must be recollected, was only four.