utally
that he does not understand, does not know how, cannot do this or that, or
to laugh at his attempts. His educators must persuade him that he _can_
understand, and that he _can_ do this thing or that, and must be pleased
with his slightest effort.

It seems a trifle to let a child have the run of cake plate or sweet-tray,
or to stay up "just another five minutes, Mummy!" to avoid a howl, but
these are the trifles that sow acts to reap habits, habits to reap
character, and character to fulfil destiny. It is selfish of parents to
avoid trouble by not teaching their children habits of obedience,
self-restraint, order and unselfishness. Between five and ten is the age of
greatest imitation, when habits are most readily contracted.

Come to no decision until hearing the child's wishes or statements, and
thinking the matter out; having come to it, _be inexorable_ despite the
wiles, whines and wails of a subtle child. Reduce both promises and threats
to a minimum, but _rigidly_ fulfil them, for a threat which can be ignored,
and a promise unfulfilled, are awful errors in training a child.

Persuade, rather than prohibit or prevent, a child from doing harmful
actions. If it wants to touch a hot iron, say clearly it is hot, and will
burn, but _do not move it_. Then, if the child persists, it will touch the
iron tentatively, and the small discomfort will teach it that obedience
would have been better. Let it learn as far as possible by the hard, but
wholesome, road of experience.

Makeshift answers must never be given to a child. Awkward questions require
truthful answers, even though these only suggest more "Whys?"

Sentimentality must be nipped promptly in the bud, and an imaginative and
humorous view of things encouraged. The child must be taught to keep the
passions under control, and to face pain (that great educator which
neurotic natures feel with exaggerated keenness) with fortitude.

Fear must be excluded from a child's experience. "Bogies!" "Ghosts!"
"Robbers!" and "Black-men!" if unintroduced, will not naturally be feared.
The mental harm a highly strung child does by rearing most fearsome
imaginings on small foundations is incalculable, and has led more than one
to an asylum.

Try to train the child to go to sleep in the dark, but if it is frightened
give it a nightlight. As Guthrie says, the comfort derived from the
assurance that Unseen Powers are watching over it, is small compared to
that given by a n