have proportion observed; if a child have a very small picture of an elephant, and a very large one of a mouse, it will make him think that a mouse is as large as an elephant.

Playthings that children make for themselves are a great deal better than those which are bought for them, and really please more. A little girl had better fashion her cups and saucers of acorns, than have a set of earthen ones supplied. A boy takes ten times more pleasure in a little wooden cart which he has pegged together, than he would in a painted and gilded carriage bought from a toyshop. There is a peculiar satisfaction in inventing things for oneself. No matter if the construction be clumsy and awkward, it employs time (which is a great object in childhood,) and the pleasure the invention gives is the first impulse to ingenuity and skill.

Cutting figures in paper is a harmless and useful amusement for those who are old enough to be trusted with scissors; which, by the way, should always be blunt pointed, when placed in the hands of a very young child. Any glaring disproportion in the figures should be explained to a child, and he should be encouraged to make his little imitations as much like nature as possible.

Drawing figures on a slate is a favourite amusement with children; and it may prove a useful one, if pains are taken to point out errors, and induce them to make correct imitations. Young people should be taught that it is not well to be careless in doing even the most trifling things.

Dolls afford a quiet amusement; they exercise ingenuity in cutting garments, and neatness in sewing; they can be played with in a variety of ways. No doubt dolls sometimes excite very strong affection. Miss Hamilton tells of a little girl, who had a limb amputated at an hospital. She bore the operation with great fortitude, hugging her doll in her arms all the time. When it was completed, the surgeon playfully said, "Now let me cut off your doll's leg." This speech produced a torrent of tears, and the little creature could hardly be pacified. She had borne her own sufferings patiently, but she could not endure that her doll should be hurt.

It is very important, and very difficult, to furnish young

children with sufficient employment. What we call a love of mischief, is in fact nothing but activity. Children are restless for employment; they must have something to do; and if they are not furnished with what is useful or innocent, they will do mischief. No one who has not lived with a family of children can conceive how very difficult it is to keep a child of five or six years old employed. It is a good plan to teach little girls to knit, weave bobbin, watchguards, &c. Making patchwork is likewise a quiet amusement; and if the child be taught to fit it herself, it may be made really useful. If the cor

ners are not fitted exactly, or the sewing done neatly, it should be taken to pieces and fitted again; for it is by inattention to these little things that habits of carelessness are formed. On no occasion whatever should a child be excused from finishing what she has begun. The custom of having half a dozen things on hand at once should not be tolerated. It ought to be considered a disgrace to give up any thing, after it is once undertaken. Habits of perseverance are of incalculable importance; and a parent should earnestly improve the most trifling opportunities of encouraging them. Even in so small a thing as untying a knot, a boy should be taught to think it unmanly to be either impatient or discouraged.

Always encourage a girl in fitting her own work, and arranging her own playthings. Few things are more valuable in this changing world, than the power of taking care of ourselves. It is a useful thing for children to make a little shirt exactly after the model of a large one, fitting all the parts themselves, after you have furnished them with a model of each part in paper. Knitting may be learned still earlier than sewing. It is a great resource to the aged; and women, in all situations of life have so many lonely hours, that they cannot provide themselves with too many resources in youth. For this reason I would indulge girls in learning any thing that did not interfere with their duties; such as ornamental work, boxes, baskets, purses, &c. Every new acquirement, however trifling, is an additional resource against poverty and depression of spirits.

My grand-mother used to say, "Lay by all scraps and fragments, and they will be sure to come into use in seven

years." I would make the same remark with regard to scraps and fragments of knowledge. It is impossible for us to foresee in youth, what will be the circumstances of our after-life: the kind of information, which at one period seems likely to be of very little use to us, may become very important. If I happened to be thrown into the society of those who excelled in any particular branch, I would gain all the information I could, without being obtrusive. No matter whether it be as to poetry or puddings, making shoes or learning music,-riding a horse or rearing a grape-vine; it is well to learn whatever comes in one's way, provided it does not interfere with the discharge of duty.-Mrs. Child.

ON EDUCATION.

MRS. S. In order to explain your method of education to me more clearly, may I ask you to send for one of your children? I shall then have a practical illustration of your mode of teaching.

Mrs. E. With pleasure; you shall see my youngest boy directly. I will bring him.

Mrs. E. soon returned, bringing little Edward, who was about three years old.

Now, Edward, said she, run and fetch mamma your stool. Show me what you can do with it?

ED. I can set it down, mamma, and lift it up.
Mrs. E. So you can! Do something more with it.
ED. Look, mamma, I can push it away, and then pull

it back again.

Mrs. E. And can you do any thing else with it?

ED. O yes, drag it after me, and turn it over.

Mrs. E. Well done, Edward; now think of something more to do with it.

ED. May I throw it, mamma?

Mrs. E. No, Edward, something more gentle than throwing.

ED. Oh! see how it goes along the floor.
Mrs. E. What do you call that?

ED. I don't know.

Mrs. E. Sliding it, my dear; what are you doing with it now?

ED. Carrying it in my right hand; I will carry it in my left, and then in both hands.

Mrs. E. Can you put it no where else but in your hands, Edward?

ED. Yes, I can carry it, like the milk-woman, on my head; and I can put it under my feet.

Mrs. E. Can you place it in any other way than it is now?

ED. I will try. I can turn it on its side, and on its end.

Mrs. E. How are you holding it now, my dear?

ED. Sloping. And now I am putting it against your chair, mamma.

Mrs. E. That is called leaning it.

Mrs. S. I admire this lesson exceedingly.

Mrs. E. You see that the child has comprehended the meaning of the terms, by his having performed the actions they express; and though he knows nothing of the name of " an active verb," yet he knows the thing, which is far more important.

Mrs. S. Would it not have been as well if you had told him to lift the stool, or do any thing else with it?

Mrs. E. By no means;-I should merely then have made him go through a set of exercises; but in asking him what can you do with it? I have called forth reflection. A child quickly acquires language for himself in the daily intercourse of life; but if, after he has performed an action, he wants words by which to express it, you may then give them to him.

Mrs. S. I understand the distinction, and feel the force of it. But how would you proceed in making him acquainted with the other parts of speech?

Mrs. E. Not very systematically, perhaps; but shall we try the prepositions, without telling him that long word, which has frightened so many children?

Mrs. S. Pray do.

Mrs. E. Now, Edward, jump up, and bring your stool Where are you holding it?

to me.

ED. Between my hands, mamma.

Mrs. E. Put your hands somewhere else, and tell me where they are.

ED. They are over it now.

Mrs. E. Change their place again, and tell me where

they are.

ED. Under it,' mamma.

Mrs. E. Can you put them in any other way, my dear?

ED. Yes, both behind it, and before it.

Mrs. E. And where are they now, Edward?

ED. Near it, mamma: and now they are far from it. Mrs. E. Right, my dear; that will do.

Mrs. S. Your plan of teaching grammar makes that an amusement which is generally the most irksome occupation.

Mrs. E. Yes, I find that it does so; I need scarcely point out to you how easily you may teach the adverbs in the same mode, by connecting them with an action done quickly, slowly, gently, suddenly, violently, and so on.-Aids to Development.

WHAT IS THAT, MOTHER?

WHAT is that, mother?

The lark, my child.-
The morn has but just looked out, and smiled,
When he starts from his humble, grassy nest,
And is up and away, with the dew on his breast,
And a hymn in his heart, to yon pure, bright sphere
To warble it out in his Maker's ear.

Ever, my child, be thy morn's first lays

Tuned, like the lark's, to thy Maker's praise.

What is that, mother?—

The dove, my son.

And that low, sweet voice, like a widow's moan,
Is flowing out from her gentle breast,
Constant and pure by that lonely nest,

As the wave is poured from some crystal urn,
For her distant dear one's quick return.

Ever, my son, be thou like the dove,-
In friendship as faithful, as constant in love,