It will be objected by parents who disagree with this theory that only authority can prevent license; that without command there will not be control.  No one has a right to condemn methods he has not tried.  I know, for I have seen, I know, for I have myself tested, that command and authority are short-lived; that they do not insure the results they aim at; that real and permanent control of a child’s behavior, even in little things, is gained only by influence, by a slow, sure educating, enlightening, and strengthening of a child’s will.  I know, for I have seen, that it is possible in this way to make a child only ten years old quite as intelligent and trustworthy a free agent as his mother; to make him so sensible, so gentle, so considerate that to say “must” or “must not” to him would be as unnecessary and absurd as to say it to her.

But, if it be wiser and better to surround even little children with this atmosphere of freedom, how much more essential is it for those who remain under the parental roof long after they have ceased to be children!  Just here seems to me to be the fatal rock upon which many households make utter shipwreck of their peace.  Fathers and mothers who have ruled by authority (let it be as loving as you please, it will still remain an arbitrary rule) in the beginning, never seem to know when their children are children no longer, but have become men and women.  In any average family, the position of an unmarried daughter after she is twenty years old becomes less and less what it should be.  In case of sons, the question is rarely a practical one; in those exceptional instances where invalidism or some other disability keeps a man helpless for years under his father’s roof, his very helplessness is at once his vindication and his shield, and also prevents his feeling manly revolt against the position of unnatural childhood.  But in the case of daughters it is very different.  Who does not number in his circle of acquaintance many unmarried women, between the ages of thirty and forty, perhaps even older, who have practically little more freedom in the ordering of their own lives than they had when they were eleven?  The mother or the father continues just as much the autocratic centre of the family now as of the nursery, thirty years before.  Taking into account the chance—­no, the certainty—­of great differences between parents and children in matters of temperament and taste, it is easy to see that great suffering must result from this; suffering, too, which involves real loss and hindrance to growth.  It is really a monstrous wrong; but it seems to be rarely observed by the world, and never suspected by those who are most responsible for it.  It is perhaps a question whether the real tyrannies in this life are those that are accredited as such.  There are certainly more than even tyrants know!