find himself under a necessity of setting such an example as might be of great benefit to his companion: who should be watched, as he grew up, that he did not (if his ample fortune became dangerous to his virtue) contribute, out of his affluence, to draw the other after him into extravagance. And to this end, as I humbly conceive, the noble doctrine of independence should be early instilled into both their minds, and upon all occasions inculcated and enforced; which would be an inducement for the one to endeavour to improve his fortune by his honest industry, lest he should never be enabled to rise out of a state of dependence; and to the other, to keep, if not to improve, his own, lest he should ever fall into such a servile state, and thereby lose the glorious power of conferring happiness on the deserving; which surely is one of the highest pleasures that a generous mind can know; a pleasure, sir, which you have oftener experienced than thousands of gentlemen and which, may you still continue to experience for a long, long, and happy succession of years to come, is the prayer of one, the most obliged of all others in her own person, as well as in the persons of her dearest relations; and who owes to this glorious beneficence the honour she boasts of being

Your ever affectionate and grateful

P. B--

LETTER XCV.

Mrs. B- -to Mr. B

Bur now, my dear Mr. B—, if you will indulge me in a letter or two more, preparative to my little book that I mentioned, I will take the liberty to touch upon one or two other places wherein I differ from this learned gentleman. But, first, permit me to observe that if parents are, above all things, to avoid giving bad examples to their children, they will be no less careful to shun the practice of such fond fathers and mothers as are wont to indulge their children in bad habits, and give them their head, at a time when, like wax, their tender minds may be moulded into what shape they please. This is a point that, if it please God, I will carefully attend to, because it is the foundation on which the superstructure of the whole future man is to be erected. For, according as he is indulged or checked in his childish follies, a ground is laid for his future happiness or misery; and if once they are suffered to become habitual to him, it cannot but be expected that they will grow up with him, and that they will hardly ever be eradicated. Try it,' says Mr. Locke, speaking to this very point, in a dog, or a horse, or any other creature, and see 'whether the ill and resty tricks they have learned when young, are easily to be mended when they are knit: 6 and yet none of these creatures are half so wilful and 'proud, or half so desirous to be masters of themselves, as

'men.'

And this brings me, dear sir, to the head of punishments, in which, as well as in the article of rewards, which I have touched upon, I have a little objection to what Mr. Locke advances.

But permit me, however, to premise that I am exceedingly pleased with the method laid down by this excellent writer, rather to shame the child out of his fault than beat

him; which latter serves generally for nothing but to harden his mind.

Obstinacy, and telling a lie, and committing a wilful fault, and then persisting in it, are, I agree with this gentleman, the only causes for which the child should be punished with stripes: and I admire the reasons he gives against a too rigorous and severe treatment of children.

But I will give Mr. Locke's words, to which I have some objection.

It may be doubted,' says he, concerning whipping, when, as the last remedy, it comes to be necessary, at 'what time, and by whom, it should be done; whether 'presently, upon the committing the fault, whilst it is yet 'fresh and hot-I think it should not be done presently,' adds he, lest passion mingle with it; and so, though it 'exceed the just proportion, yet it lose of its due weight: 'for even children discern whenever we do things in a 'passion.'

I must beg leave, dear sir, to differ from Mr. Locke in this point; for I think it ought rather to be a rule with parents, who shall chastise their children, to conquer what would be extreme in their own passion on this occasion (for those parents who cannot do it, are very unfit to be punishers of the wayward passions of their children) than to defer the punishment, especially if the child knows its fault has reached its parent's ear. It is otherwise, methinks, giving the child, if of an obstinate disposition, so much more time to harden its mind, and bid defiance to its punishment.

Just now, dear sir, your Billy is brought into my presence, all smiling, crowing to come to me, and full of heart-cheering promises; and the subject I am upon goes to my heart. Surely, surely, I can never beat your Billy! -Dear little life of my life! how can I think that thou canst ever deserve it, or that I can ever inflict it!No, my baby, that shall be thy papa's task, if ever thou art so heinously naughty; and whatever he does, must

be right.-Pardon my foolish fondness, dear sir!-I will proceed.

If, then, the fault be so atrocious as to deserve whipping, and the parent be resolved on this exemplary punishment, the child ought not, as I imagine, to come into one's presence without meeting with it: for else, a fondness too natural to be resisted, will probably get the upper-hand of one's resentment, and how shall one be able to whip the dear creature one had ceased to be angry with? Then, after he has once seen one without meeting his punishment, will he not be inclined to hope for connivance at his fault, unless it should be repeated? And may he not be apt (for children's resentments are strong) to impute to cruelty, a correction (when he thought the fault had been forgotten) that should always appear to be inflicted with reluctance, and through motives of love?

If, from anger at his fault, one should go above the due proportion (I am sure I might be trusted for this!) let it take its course!-How barbarously, methinks, I speak — He ought to feel the lash, first, because he deserves it, poor little soul! Next, because it is proposed to be exemplary. And, lastly, because it is not intended to be often used. And the very passion or displeasure one expresses (if it be not enormous), will show one is in earnest, and create in him a necessary awe, and make him be afraid to offend again. The end of the correction is to show him the difference between right and wrong. And as it is proper to take him at his first offer of a full submission and repentance (and not before), and instantly dispassionate one's self, and show him the difference by acts of pardon and kindness (which will let him see that one punishes him out of necessity rather than choice), so one would not be afraid to make him smart so sufficiently, that he should not soon forget the severity of the discipline, nor the disgrace of it. There's a cruel mamma for you, Mr. B—! What my practice may be, I can't tell; but this theory, I presume to think, is right.

As to the act itself, I much approve of Mr. Locke's

advice, to do it by pauses, mingling stripes and expostulations together, to shame and terrify the more; and the rather, as the parent, by this slow manner of inflicting the punishment, will less need to be afraid of giving too violent a correction; for those pauses will afford him, as well as the child, opportunities for consideration and reflection.

But as to the person by whom the discipline should be performed, I humbly conceive that this excellent author is here also to be objected to.

'If you have a discreet servant,' says he, capable of 'it, and has the place of governing your child (for if you 'have a tutor, there is no doubt), I think it is the best the smart should come immediately from another's hand, though by the parent's order, who should see it done, whereby the parent's authority will be preserved, and the 'child's aversion for the pain it suffers, rather be turned on the person that immediately inflicts it: for I would ' have a father seldom strike a child, but upon very urgent necessity, and as the last remedy.'

'Tis in such an urgent case, dear sir, that we are supposing it should be done at all. If there be not a reason strong enough for the father's whipping the child himself, there cannot be any sufficient for his ordering any other to do it, and standing by to see it done: but I humbly presume to think, that if there be a necessity for it, no one can be so fit as the father himself to do it. The child cannot dispute his authority to punish, from whom he receives and expects all the good things of this life. He cannot question his love to him; and after the smart is over, and his obedience secured, must believe that so tender, so indulgent a father, could have no other end in whipping him, but his good. Against him, he knows he has no remedy, but must passively submit; and when he is convinced he must, he will in time conclude that he ought.

But to have this severe office performed by a servant, though at the father's command; and that professedly, that the aversion of the child for the pain it suffers should be turned on the person who immediately inflicts it, is, I