reasoning. Nothing but the practical habit of vanished hours the power of his untamed heart; and he must, perhaps, transfuse also something of his maturer mind into those dreams of his former being, thus linking the past with the present by a continuous chain, which, though often invisible, is never broken. So is it too with the calmer affections that have grown within the shelter of a roof. We do not merely remember, we imagine, our father's house, the fireside, all his features then most living, now dead and buried; the very manner of his smile, every tone of his voice. We must combine with all the passionate and plastic power of imagination, the spirit of a thousand happy hours into one moment; and we must invest with all that we ever felt to be venerable, such an image as alone can fill our filial hearts. It is thus that imagination, which first aided the growth of all our holiest and happiest affecCHILDHOOD-Unconscious Education tions, can preserve them to us unimpaired— CHILDHOOD-Earnestness in. When I was yet a child, no childish play of. A great part of the education of every child consists of those impressions, visual and other, Thich the senses of the little being are taking in busily, though unconsciously, amid the scenes of their first exercise; and though all sorts of men are born in all sorts of placespoets in towns, and prosaic men amid fields and woody solitudes-yet, consistently with this, it is also true that much of the original capital on which all men trade intellectually through life, consists of that mass of miscellaneous fact and imagery which they have acquired imperceptibly by the observations of their early years. Professor Masson. CHILDHOOD-Innocence of. Happy those early days, when I Shined in mine angel infancy! Oh how I long to travel back, And tread again that ancient track, Before I taught my tongue to wound My conscience with a sinful sound, Or had the black art to dispense A several sin to every sense. Henry Vaughan. CHILDHOOD-Remembrances of. All minds, even the dullest, remember the days of their childhood; but all cannot bring back the indescribable brightness of that blessed season. They who would know what they once were, must not merely recollect, but they must imagine the hills and valleys-if any such there were-in which their childhood | played; the torrents, the waterfalls, the lakes, the heather, the rocks, the heavens' imperial dome, the raven floating only a little lower than the eagle in the sky. To imagine what he then heard and saw, he must imagine his own nature. He must collect from many "For she can bring us back the dead, CHILDHOOD-Reminiscences of. In my poor mind it is most sweet to muse To pluck gay flowers;- CHILDHOOD. As waving forth their gladsome wing; To breathe a second spring. CHILDHOOD-Thoughts of. There was a time when I was very small, When my whole frame was but an ell in height; Sweetly, as I recall it, tears do fall, And therefore I recall it with delight. CHILDREN. CHILDREN-Answering. If a question is asked on a subject beyond their comprehension, say at once, You could Gray. not understaud that, my dear, until you are older." If it is wrong, say that it is not a proper question. If your treatment of your children is reasonable, they will be perfectly satisfied with your word; and you must not allow them to tease you with more questions. If, on the other hand, you do not know the proper answer-for children's questions sometimes embrace a wide space-say so at once, though it may be painful to do so. Better anything than tell your child a falsehood. On the other hand, let your replies rather lead your child to further inquiry than make them satisfy it entirely. Your province is to elicit thought, gently, almost imperceptibly, yet surely. Nothing can be more foolish of a parent than to say, "Children should not ask questions. Mrs. Pullen. I sported in my tender mother's arms, Then seemed to me this world far less in size, Likewise it seemed to me less wicked far; Like points in heaven, I saw the stars arise, And longed for wings that I might catch a Wondering, I saw God's sun, through western skies, Sink in the ocean's golden lap at night, And yet, upon the morrow, early rise, And paint the eastern heaven with crimson And thought of God, the gracious, heavenly Who made me and that lovely sun on high, And all those pearls of heaven thick strung together, Dropped, clustering, from His hand o'er all With childish reverence my young lips did say So prayed I for my father and my mother, Warm and uncalculating, they're more wise- Than all that bards e'er feign'd, or tuneful Has e'er struck forth from artificial notes: CHILDREN-Care of. Women know The way to rear up children (to be just); They perished-the blithe days of boyhood Of tying sashes, fitting baby-shoes, And all the gladness, all the peace I knew! Now have I but their memory, fondly che rished God! may I never, never lose that too. Longfellow. And stringing pretty words that make no sense, And kissing full sense into empty words; And get not over-early solemnized; Become aware and unafraid of love. Such good do mothers. Eliz. Barrett Browning. CHILDREN-Comprehensions of. Grown persons are apt to put a lower estimate than is just on the understandings of children. They rate them by what they know, and children know very little; but their capacity of comprehension is great. Hence the continual wonder of those who are unaccustomed to them, at the old-fashioned wars" of some lone little one, who has no playfellows, and at the odd mixture of folly and wisdom in its sayings. A continual battle goes on in a child's mind between what it knows and what it comprehends. Its answers are foolish from partial ignorance, and wise from extreme quickness of apprehension. The great art of education is so to train this last faculty, as neither to depress nor over-exert it. The matured mediocrity of many an infant prodigy proves both the degree of expansion to which it is possible to force a child's intellect, and the boundary which nature has set to the success of such false culture. should get on very badly without them. Caly think, if there was never anything anywhere to be seen, but great grown-up men and women! How we should long for the sight of a little child! Every infant comes into the world like a delegated prophet, the harbinger and herald of good tidings, whose office it is 66 to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children," and to draw "the disobedient to the wisdom of the just." A child softens and purifies the heart, warming and melting it by its gentle presence; it enriches the soul by new feelings, and awakens within it what is favourable to virtue. It is a beam of light, a fountain of love, a teacher whose lessons few can resist. Infants recall us from much that engenders and encourages selfishness, that freezes the affections, roughens the manners, indurates the heart: they brighten the home, deepen love, invigorate exertion, infuse courage, and vivify and sustain the charities of life. It would be a terrible world, I do think, if it was not embellished by little children! Binney. Who can look at this exquisite little creature seated on its cushion, and not acknowledge its prerogative of life-that mysterious influence which in spite of the stubborn understanding masters the mind, sending it back to days long past, when care was but a dream, and its most serious business a childish frolic? But still less as an abstraction; we see it embodied we no longer think of childhood as the past, and the grave man becomes again a child, to before us, in all its mirth, and fun, and glee, feel as a child, and to follow the little enchanter through all its wiles and never-ending labyrinth of pranks. What can be real, if that is not which so takes us out of our present selves, that the weight of years falls from us as a garment; that the freshness of life seems to begin anew, and the heart and the fancy, resuming their first joyous consciousness, to launch again into this moving world, as on a sunny sea whose pliant waves yield to the touch, sparkling and buoyant, carry them onward in their merry gambols? Where all the purposes of reality are answered, if there be no philosophy in admitting, we see no wisdom in disputing it. Allston. CHILDREN-Educating themselves. There is a branch of useful training which cannot be heedfully regarded; I mean, the education that children give themselves. Their observation is ever alive and awake to the circumstances which pass around them; and, from the circumstances thus observed, they are continually drawing their own conclusions. CHILDREN. CHILDREN. by the reason and piety of its parents, till its Children generally hate to be idle; all the care then is, that their busy humour should be constantly employed in something of use to them. Locke. I CHILDREN-Gentleness with. These observations and conclusions have a CHILDREN-Education of. In order to form the minds of children, the first thing to be done is to conquer their will. To inform the understanding is a work of time, and must, with children, proceed by slow degrees, as they are able to bear it; but the subjecting the will must be done at once, and the sooner the better; for, by neglecting timely correction, they will contract a stubbornness and obstinacy which are hardly ever conquered, and not without using such severity as would be as painful to me as the child. In the esteem of the world they pass for kind and indulgent, whom I call cruel parents, who permit their children to get habits which they know must afterwards be broken. When the will of a child is subdued, and it is brought to revere and stand in awe of its parents, then a great many childish follies and inadvertencies may be passed by. Some should be overlooked, and others mildly reproved; but no wilful trangression ought to be forgiven without such chastisement, less or more, as the nature and circumstances of the offence may require. I insist upon conquering the will of children betimes, because this is the only strong and rational foundation of a religious education, without which both precept and example will be ineffectual. But when this is thoroughly done, then a child is capable of being governed In "Be not Be ever gentle with the children God has given you; watch over them constantly; reprove them earnestly, but not in anger. the forcible language of Scripture, bitter against them." "Yes, they are good boys," I once heard a kind father say; "I talk to them very much, but do not like to beat my children-the world will beat them." It was a beautiful thought, though not elegantly expressed. Yes, there is not one child in the circle round the table, healthful and happy as they look now, on whose head, if long enough spared, the storm will not beat. Adversity may wither them, sickness may fade, a cold world may frown on them, but amidst all let memory carry them back to a home where the law of kindness reigned, where the mother's reproving eye was moistened with a tear, and the father frowned "more in sorrow than in Elihu Burritt. anger." CHILDREN-Moral Growth of. Children will grow up substantially what they are by nature and only that. Mrs. Stowe. CHILDREN-Happiness of. A child is a man in a small letter, yet the best copy of Adam; and he is happy whose small practice in the world can only write his character. He is Nature's fresh picture newly drawn in oil, which time and much handling dims and defaces. His soul is yet a white paper, unscribbled with observations of the world, wherewith at length it becomes a blurred note-book. He is purely happy, because he knows no evil, nor hath made means by sin to be acquainted with misery. He arrives not at the mischief of being wise, nor endures evils to come by foreseeing them. He kisses and loves all, and when the smart of the rod is past, smiles on his beater. Nature and his parents alike dandle him, and entice him on with a bait of sugar to a draught of wormwood. He plays yet like a young prentice the first day, and is not come to his task of melancholy. All the language he speaks yet is tears, and they serve him well enough to ex press his necessity. His hardest labour is his tongue, as if he were loth to use so deceitful an organ; and he is best company with it when he can but prattle. We laugh at his foolish sports, but his game is our earnest; and his drums, rattles, and hobby-horses but the emblems and mockings of men's business. His father hath writ him as his own little story, wherein he reads those days of his life which he cannot remember, and sighs to see what innocence he has outlived. He is the Christian's example, and the old man's relapse; the one imitates his pureness, and the other falls into his simplicity. Could he put off his body with his little coat, he had got eternity without a burden, and exchanged but one heaven for another. Bishop Earle. CHILDREN-Happiness derived from. What is all tasteless luxury to this? Art the true judge of what can make us happy. CHILDREN-Importance of. Hon. Mrs. Norton. tender a caress will be felt by the mother, I love these little people; and it is not a Tell me not of the trim, precisely-arranged homes where there are no children; "where," as the good Germans have it, "the fly-traps always hang straight on the wall;" tell me not of the never-disturbed nights and days, of the tranquil, unanxious hearts where children are not! I care not for these things. God sends children for another purpose than merely to keep up the race-to enlarge our hearts, to make us unselfish, and full of kindly sympathies and affections; to give our souls higher aims, and to call out all our faculties to extended enterprise and exertion; to bring round our fireside bright faces and happy smiles, and loving, tender hearts. My soul blesses the Great Father every day, that He has gladdened the earth with little children. Mary Howitt. Nothing seems to weigh down their buoyant spirits long; misfortune may fall to their lot, but the shadows it casts upon their life-path are fleeting as the clouds that come and go in an April sky. Their future may, perchance, appear dark to others, but to their fearless gaze it looms up brilliant and beautiful as the walls of a fairy palace. There is no tear which a mother's gentle hand cannot wipe away, no wound that a mother's kiss cannot heal, no anguish which the sweet murmuring of her soft, low voice cannot soothe. The warm, generous impulses of their nature have not been fettered and cramped by the cold formalities CHILDREN-Loveliness of. of the world; they have not yet learned to veil a hollow heart with false smiles, or hide the basest purposes beneath honeyed words. Neither are they constantly on the alert to search out our faults and foibles with Argus eye; on the contrary, they exercise that blessed charity which "thinketh no evil.” CHILDREN-The Love of. Call not that man wretched, who, whatever ills he suffers, has a child to love. Southey. Tegner. Next to the Creator, the mother will have the child's warmest affections; and how warm, how tender, how true are those affections, none but a mother can know. How profound and complete may be the sympathy of a little child, no words can express. How loving and I look'd upon their loveliness, Gems leaping in the coronet of love. |
