But he was deeply anxious about our upbringing, and
had a very strong sense of his responsibility; and he would
sometimes reprove us rather sternly for some extremely trifling
thing, the way one ate one's food, or spoke, or behaved. This
descended upon me as a cloud of darkness; I attempted no excuses, I
did not explain or defend myself; I simply was crushed and
confounded. I do not think it was the right method. He never
punished us, but we were not at ease with him. I remember the agony
with which I heard a younger sister once repeat to him some silly
and profane little jokes which a good-natured and absurd old lady
had told us in the nursery. I felt sure he would disapprove, as he
did. I knew quite well in my childish mind that it was harmless
nonsense, and did not give us a taste for ungodly mirth. But I
could not intervene or expostulate. I am sure that my father had
not the slightest idea how weighty and dominant he was; but many of
the things he rebuked would have been better not noticed, or if
noticed only made fun of, while I feel that he ought to have given
us more opportunity of stating our case.
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