Parents, teachers, and all who are charged with the duty of training the
young, may learn important lessons from the example of the late Mr.
Rarey. The principles on which the horse is rendered obedient and docile
do not differ essentially from those to be employed in the government of
children or of men.
Some of the accounts of Mr. Rarey's system, however, which have been
published, are liable to mislead, and to foster a mischievous error. His
procedure was eminently kind and gentle. The horse became fully assured
that no harm was intended towards him. This conviction is essential to
success in securing a perfect and willing obedience, whether from brute
or human. But the distinctness with which this feature of the treatment
was brought out in Mr. Rarey's exhibitions, led some apparently to think
that this was the main, if not the only feature. Kindness alone,
however, will not tame, and will not govern, brutes or men. There must
be power. There must be, in the mind of the party to be governed, a full
conviction that the power of the other party is superior to his
own--that there is, in the party claiming obedience, an ample reserve of
power fully adequate to enforce the claim. The more complete this
conviction is, the less occasion there will be for the exercise of the
power. The most headstrong horse, once convinced that he is helpless in
this contest of strength, and convinced at the same time that his master
is his friend, may be led by a straw.
Mr. Rarey went through various preliminary steps, the object of which
was to make the horse acquainted with him, and to prevent fright or
panic. But obedience was not claimed, and was not given, until there had
been a demonstration of power--until the horse was convinced that the
man was entirely too much for him. By a very simple adjustment of straps
to the forefeet of the animal, he became perfectly helpless in the hands
of his tamer. The struggle, indeed, was sometimes continued for a good
while. The horse put forth his prodigious strength to the utmost. He
became almost wild at the perfect ease and quietude with which all his
efforts were baffled, until at length, fully satisfied that further
struggles were useless, he made a complete surrender, and lay down as
peaceful and submissive as an infant.
This point is of some importance. I do not underrate the value of
kindness and love in any system of government, whether in the household,
the school, the stable, the menagerie, or in civil society. But love is
not the basis of government. Obedience is yielded to authority, and
authority is based on right and power. The child who complies with his
father's wishes, only because a different course would make his father
grieve, or give his mother a headache, or because his parents have
reasoned with him and shown him that compliance is for his good, or who
has been wheedled into compliance by petty bribes and promises, has not
learned that doctrine of obedience which lies at the foundation of all
government, human and divine. God has given to the parent the right to
the obedience of his children, and the power to enforce it. That parent
has failed in his duty who has not trained his child, not only to love
him, but to obey him, in the strict sense of the word, that is to yield
his will to the will of a superior, from a sense of appointed
subordination and rightful authority. This sense of subordination and of
obedience to appointed and rightful authority, is of the very essence of
civil government, and the place where it is to be first and chiefly
learned is in the household. To teach this is a main end of the parental
relation. The parent who fails to teach it, fails to give his child the
first element of good citizenship, and leaves him often to be in
after-years the victim of his own uncontrolled passions and tempers. The
want of a proper exercise of parental authority is, in this age of the
world, the most prolific source of those frightful disorders that
pervade society, and that threaten to upturn the very foundations of all
civil government. The feeling of reverence, the sense of a respect for
authority, the consciousness of being in a state of subordination, the
feeling of obligation to do a thing simply because it is commanded by
some one having a right to obedience--all these old-fashioned notions
seem to be dying out of the minds of men. The popular cry is, Don't make
your children fear you. Govern them by love. Conquer them by kindness.
Treat them as Mr. Rarey did his horses.
I protest against the notion. It is a mistake of Mr. Rarey's system,
and it is not the true basis for government, whether of brutes or men.
The doctrine may seem harsh in these dainty times. But, in my opinion, a
certain degree of wholesome fear in the mind of a child towards its
parent, is essential, and is perfectly compatible with the very highest
love. I have never known more confiding, affectionate, and loving
children, than those who not only regarded their parents as kind
benefactors and sympathizing friends, but who looked up to them with a
certain degree of reverence. The fear spoken of in the Bible, as being
cast out by perfect love, is quite a different emotion. It is rather a
slavish fear, a feeling of dread and terror. It sees in its object not
only power but hostility. It awakens not only dread but hate. The
child's fear, on the contrary, sees power united with kindness. It obeys
the one, it loves the other. It is the exact attitude of mind to which
Mr. Rarey brought the horse that was subjected to his management.