A great drawback, not only to the children but to the parents, in what is called upper-class life, is that the duties of that life necessitate the consigning of their children for a great part of the day to the care of others. If there were no nurseries and no schoolrooms, there would be no necessity for a 'children's hour' at all, for the children would share life with their mother from the first, and she would derive her pleasure from taking care of them. A serious difficulty for the mother is that she has to compete with the devotion and constant attention of the nurses and governesses. It is this which often gives children the idea that it is only when with their mother that they are dull, neglected, and expected to occupy and amuse themselves; and this is certainly an undesirable impression to produce at an age when impressions are strong and likely to be lasting. Every case must be judged individually, and a woman must put to herself how far it is necessary that she should separate her life from the life of her children. As a matter of fact, it ought to depend on what is her husband's social position, or on what is his idea of her duties to him. In the cases where it is most difficult for a woman to see much of her children-let us say, in the large houses of the rich in town or country-it is better that children and governess should be turned into the hosts, and that the parents and guests should go to them for tea, rather than the usual arrangement of the children being brought into the drawing-room.

In speaking to young mothers who are inclined to be over-anxious, and who begin worrying themselves over details of their children's education, I always try and remind them that no education really affects the character very much before about twelve years old, so long as attention is paid in every way to their health and to the kind of nurses who are about them. As one gets old, one remembers the numbers of children that were brought up in totally different ways; and yet, roughly speaking, in spite of either spoiling or neglect, over- or under-educating, how few belonging to the same class are really much better or much worse than their fellows-in fact, what an ordinary level they attain! What marked differences do exist are due much more to individuality of character than to the various trainings they have undergone. Even the most earnest mothers have sometimes to own that the children of parents who took no pains at all turn out quite as well as their own. I refer, of course, to what is called intellectual education, and not to the physical. I once more come back to saying that neglect of health and over-stimulating of the brain before the age, say, of fifteen in excitable, clever children are the only two things that really might work for evil on the future. No true opinion about the character of a child can be arrived at till the age of sixteen or seventeen, though guesses more or less correct may be made much earlier. The education of children depends so immensely on the gradual growth and development of the mother herself, and on the influences through which she passes. Those mothers most admired in their devotion to their babies have generally turned out, according to my observation, the least satisfactory, and the least able to control and guide their children in later life. This is due, of course, to temperament and to the woman being one who is satisfied with the nursery, who never looks forward, who ceases to cultivate herself after marriage, and who, above all, does not keep pace with the generation which lies between herself and her children, this generation being the only one that will interpret her children to herself when they are grown up. A mother should be on her guard about changing her methods because some one else's children seem more or better instructed or prettier-mannered than her own. To be actively influenced as regards your children by the comments of others is, I think, a mistake. Take all the advice you can get all round, but never act upon it till you have thoroughly digested it and seriously considered whether it agrees with your general plan or not. Nothing is so easy as to train children like monkeys or dancing dogs; nothing so difficult as to make that sort of show-training of the smallest use in the far more important factor of character development. Children who are brought up naturally must often be naughty and disagreeable in family meetings, which mortifies the mother, but is only an experience gained to the child. What hurts us is not so much that those we love should say what they think, as that they think what they say.

I remember a boy who was once foolishly talked to by his mother for not being so clever or so industrious as the little A.'s, some neighbour's children. The boy instantly answered, 'But, mother, are you and father the least like Mr. and Mrs. A. ?'There is a good deal in the answer; the first essential is to be ourselves, our best selves certainly, but no imitation of others, and never wishing to be so as regards our children. Even when we strive to be original, we often only end in being affected. Mr. Buskin says: 'That virtue of originality that men strive after is not newness, as they vainly think (there is nothing new); it is only genuineness.'Every form of training has its merits and its defects, both in the present and the future.

On looking back myself, I can honestly say that what was least usual, least conventional, and most criticised by others is what I regret the least in the education of my own sons.

To continue what I have to say about little girls; the moment they are what doctors call delicate-that is to say, have any constitutional or hereditary weakness-still more, if there is any organic disease-no sacrifice on the part of parents is, to my mind, too great, and no neglect of education is to be thought of compared to improving the child's state of health. Nothing is so likely to do that as high country air or sea air for a great part of the year. Girls may grow up healthy and strong, though they live in London nearly all the year round, but it is undoubtedly a risk which should never slip out of the mother's mind, especially if the remaining in London is associated with any selfish purposes of her own, either as regards pleasure or expense. In France the teaching of Rousseau still unconsciously influences society, and fashionable doctors insist on delicate children being sent right away into the country, to lead almost peasants' lives. This plan I never can feel is kind or even wise, though it ensures the advantages of no excitement, country air, and liberty to run in and out-so necessary an element in child-life. But it rather resembles turning thin-skinned stable-horses, with their tails cut, into a green field full of sunshine and flies. Delicately born and nurtured children must suffer from the rough life.