INFLUENCE AND RESPONSIBILITY OF MOTHERS
By L. D. Avery-Stuttle
IV. TRAINING TO TRUTHFULNESS.
FRIGHTENING the little ones into good behavior by telling them lies is the worst possible means of attaining the end sought. One day I looked out of my window and was quite surprised at seeing my neighbor's little child—a mere baby girl—lying flat on her face, and nervously wriggling her small body as far under the floor of the front piazza as possible. I wondered what the child was doing; evidently she was trying her best to hide from sight. She made no sound or outcry,—only shrunk her tiny body into as small a compass as possible, way back—back under the floor. When I found out what was the trouble, I was almost indignant; to say the least, I was sad. The child's mother told me when I asked about it. It was nothing whatever, she assured me. Baby had only seen old Uncle B— coming down the street, and she had taught her that the innocent old man would catch and carry her away, or cut her ears off. She did this to make baby quiet and good (?) and go to sleep. And that poor little deceived and frightened creature had bravely refrained from screaming, and only thinking of the horror of being dragged away from her home and her mama, had hidden herself as best she could, with wildly beating heart and bounding pulse. All this misery caused by a foolish lie told by an unwise mother! Now, how can she expect this child to be truthful in after years. O, I hope every mother will remember that it does not pay to attempt to frighten goodness into little children. "Johnnie, unless you mind me this minute, I'll shake the life out of you!" "That's what you said a little while ago, mama, but you didn't do it; and if you had, why, mama, you'd been a murderer!" O, what a senseless way of securing obedience! Threats of some unreasonable, horrible punishment,—which threats, of course, are never carried out, and never intended to be—telling lies and frightening into goodness? O, what a pity, what a pity that there are mothers who need to be warned against doing these things! I believe the great secret of teaching a child to be truthful is simply to educate his conscience. "I well remember the first and I trust the only lie I ever told," said a lady the other day. "I was but three years old, and had done some little mischief, which of course I denied. How was I punished?—My dear mother talked kindly to me, and carefully explained what it meant to tell a lie. She seemed so sad as we knelt down to ask the good Lord to forgive her little girl for telling a falsehood. The impression which this youthful experience made upon me will never fade away." Nor do I think children should be taught to discriminate between different kinds of lies, by calling this a "white lie," and that a "black lie." They are all black! a lie is a lie, and I care not how little or innocent appearing it may be, it is an offense unto God—the Author of truth. Indeed, a falsehood is especially aggravating to Him. And yet I fear that some of us who consider ourselves patterns of truthfulness could not stand before the all-seeing eye of Him "who desireth truth in the inward parts." O, ye mothers and fathers, would you ask, then, for a good recipe for teaching your boys and girls to be truthful? Here it is: Never tell a lie yourself. "Well, well!" protests Mrs. Sensitive, "don't talk like that to me; I never lie!" And yet to-day when Mrs. Sensitive's little boy came in from his play, and asked for a piece of ginger bread, instead of explaining to him that it was not good for his stomach to eat between meals, she only said, "It's all gone, Willie; there isn't any more," when she knew there was a large piece in the pantry; she knew it then, and Willie found it out at dinner-time. Well, if that's the way you are bringing up your boy, Mrs. Sensitive, I would not give much for his moral worth in a few years. Then there is another specious kind of lying; viz., telling part of the truth. A good many years ago there were a couple of very pious, worthy (?) church members. They were adepts at this particular kind of lying. They sold some property, and wanted to give just enough of it to the church, to insure a general belief that they were simply robbing themselves for the good of others. Adepts in deceit and cunning, they wanted to pose as patterns of godliness. But they didn't turn out very well, did they?—No; and all the Ananiases and Sapphiras in the world or in the church to-day, are not going to turn out any better in the end than they did. For in that day, when every maker and every lover of a lie shall perish, it will be said to them, "Thou hast not lied unto men, but unto God."
L. D. AVERY-STUTTLE.