week, or even day, in my whole life.  Yet I found time to talk with them, to walk, or ride, about with them; and when forced to go from home, always took one or more with me.  You must be good-tempered too with them; they must like your company better than any other person’s; they must not wish you away, not fear your coming back, not look upon your departure as a holiday.  When my business kept me away from the scrabbling-table, a petition often came, that I would go and talk with the group, and the bearer generally was the youngest, being the most likely to succeed.  When I went from home, all followed me to the outer-gate, and looked after me, till the carriage, or horse, was out of sight.  At the time appointed for my return, all were prepared to meet me; and if it were late at night, they sat up as long as they were able to keep their eyes open.  This love of parents, and this constant pleasure at home, made them not even think of seeking pleasure abroad; and they, thus, were kept from vicious playmates and early corruption.

294.  This is the age, too, to teach children to be trust-worthy, and to be merciful and humane.  We lived in a garden of about two acres, partly kitchen-garden with walls, partly shrubbery and trees, and partly grass.  There were the peaches, as tempting as any that ever grew, and yet as safe from fingers as if no child were ever in the garden.  It was not necessary to forbid.  The blackbirds, the thrushes, the whitethroats, and even that very shy bird the goldfinch, had their nests and bred up their young-ones, in great abundance, all about this little spot, constantly the play-place of six children; and one of the latter had its nest, and brought up its young-ones, in a raspberry-bush, within two yards of a walk, and at the time that we were gathering the ripe raspberries.  We give dogs, and justly, great credit for sagacity and memory; but the following two most curious instances, which I should not venture to state, if there were not so many witnesses to the facts, in my neighbours at Botley, as well as in my own family, will show, that birds are not, in this respect, inferior to the canine race.  All country people know that the skylark is a very shy bird; that its abode is the open fields:  that it settles on the ground only; that it seeks safety in the wideness of space; that it avoids enclosures, and is never seen in gardens.  A part of our ground was a grass-plat of about forty rods, or a quarter of an acre, which, one year, was left to be mowed for hay.  A pair of larks, coming out of the fields into the middle of a pretty populous village, chose to make their nest in the middle of this little spot, and at not more than about thirty-five yards from one of the doors of the house, in which there were about twelve persons living, and six of those children, who had constant access to all parts of the ground.